Fact Follows Fiction was an unending musical rant that we both couldn't seem to control. We kept adding parts and never editing behind one another until it blossomed into a sonifucicus gargantua, as it is known in scientific circles.
I think the last two rounds, we spent far too much time - hours on end for each of us - trying to make sense of what we'd piled up by piling more on top. It was a brilliant strategy, indeed. We had so much bunk in there that GarageBand wasn't even going to play it for us.
After a long discussion last week, we decided it was best to put her down, like the arthritic beast she was. But what do you do with your pet when you don't want to see her go just yet? have it stuffed, natch.
The last edit was mixed down and dropped into a new file with some of the original tracks - easier on Garageband, for sure. And instead of just a stuffed beast, we could add some bionics and watch it grow
again. Well, that didn't last long. I archived that mess so i would feel better about cutting my losses; and then i chopped it all off at the 5 minute mark to start there with a nice 4 minute song. That's right. It was 9 minutes. I wasted at least a half hour listening to it only three times to try and decide if it was worth it. I finally got so tired of waiting for the good part that i ordered it up express.
here she is, in all of her original-coat-metal-bones-and-working-
In our younger pictures we are dreamers and replicas of what we are today.
Now we wait for visions because our heroes, when we were growing up, all went away
and left no point of reference; so, our lines trail and leave a whole in our peculiar shape.
The missing piece is fiction on the next page, whose energy keeps us both awake.
Promises are approximations
But what I need is your inspiration.
We're gonna get there.