“How great the cloud of witnesses, how great the One who watches them,” is the final lyric of the final song of our record. This final piece of audio was recorded at 7:30pm, September 8th, 2006.
What is Is, by The Dailies, is now complete.
We just thought you’d like to know that.
P.S. It’s Copland’s 5th birthday. In lieu of your presence at his birthday party, please send cash to his parents. Copland is a dog, FYI.
Congrats!
How timely that the door handles for the studio arrived today.
Not that they will be actually attached to the doors when you get here, but you can at least gaze upon their custom-tooled, stainless steel glory…in their packing box. The lights however, are, as of today, turn-onable…so at least you won’t be mixing ’round a campfire. Thankfully, none of these creature comforts (electricity, plumbing…that’s not done either) have much effect on B’s mixing skills. Did you happen to see the very last “studio” space he was in before we got outta Dodge?
Avoid the onion trucks in the central valley. They’ll make you cry. (Mostly because they go 45mph.)
Gotta go shoot somethin’ for dinner.
Oh, that dog…
June, June, June. You forgot to mention if the straps were in place (not to mention the zero-G generators) for putting the boyz up astronaut-style - sleeping standing up against the wall. Don’t tell me you’ve weenied out and are now sleeping them on air mattresses under the mixing board. You have, haven’t you?
[sigh]
Many warm congratulations, Dear Dailies, from your soggy, black-clad Seattle supporters.
Cerise
He’s very sensitive. He smells your disapproval. He pees on your disapproval.
are we still talking about Stick or did we switch back to Copland?
MY wife is the funnies person in all the land.
funnies, indee.
I’m guessing it’s due mainly to construction weariness, but all this has me laughing so hard I’m crying (or am I peeing?) a little. Did anyone else flinch a bit when Grammy said “Oh, that dog…” right after I said “I gotta go shoot somethin’ for dinner?” And then the “soggy, black-clad Seattle supporters” and then the funnies person in all the land…I’m canceling the comedy channel. I don’t need it when I have all of you.
(And just for the record, we had salad and pizza for dinner last night. And Chad will be sleeping horizontally. In a bed. Alone. Indoors.)
Careful, June, you’re de-Rock-n’-Roll’-ing it. Chad needs to NOT sleep, but instead be kept awake by the rawk in his coconut. …and his soiled pants.
Eww.
Compound rules restrict soiling of many kinds.
I guess I better book one of the Lord-Alge brothers then… they actually force their clients to poop their pants at the end of every completed track. It’s kind of their thing.
Their ethos, if you will. I’m all for it.
You know the saddest thing… is that the Lord-Alge boys are in such demand that I think major artists might just poop their pants for them.