My friend Sean Flora is finishing mixes on the next mini-album, "Nudes" and should be ready in two-three weeks, depending on how badly he needs the money.
I'm sitting on an embarrassing number of albums and as I'm single and everyone close to me is dead, I guess I've got the luxury of putting out stuff at some sort of pace. I figure a 20-minute "album" every 4 months shouldn't look too pathetically desperate, but I could be wrong. Hey, Beatles used to do that.
"Nudes" sort of fits nicely against "Obsessives" and "Insomnia", my last two releases as the albums are a bit more intimate and diy compared to the others I'm preparing. Short of another quickie, I've got lots with so many gobs of overdubs by very high-level folks that they threaten to bury me in my own songs.
It's an interesting experience to approach/pay people you grew up listening to to work on your stuff. "What do these people think when approached by hobbyists like yourself?" She asked me, assuring me that any self-respecting woman who wanted a family would order an immediate cease and desist.
As I struggled to not be triggered by the same sort of question that was lobbed at me by most of my immediate family, I quickly fell back into the "everyone's suffering through the same paradigm" response, and reminded her that most of the greats had day jobs.
But I should have mentioned that there's quite a thrill getting keyboards from Barry Andrews, guitars from Ivan Julian, saz from Lu Edmonds, or basslines from Paulo LePetit; people I've listened to for years. It turns on my middle-aged mind.