Frankenstein Wasn’t Built In A Day

So how long did it take? Especially considering good refrigeration was still a few good decades away? And what did it take to work in the medium of corpse?

Yes, today’s theme is creation. And time is right as I look out the shop window and see….well not trees budding and grasses growing green….but its not snowing. Presently. It appears the winter of my malcontent status is reaching quitting time. And Im prepared to bloom too.

How does one make a record anyway? Blood, sweat, tears, money, friends, frustration, alcohol, rationalizations, ego, crippling esteem issues and the ever-opening maw of critical listening to tracks.

Why does one make a record anyway? News on the street is that music is dying medium and in time we will all only listen to recorded conversations about music. You cant make a living. You cant expect the Zeppelin tour bus to pull up at the door. We’re all screwed, right?

Well, yes, surely we are. But we make records cause the only thing to fight off the destroying pace of this modern world is to use your voice, use your instrument, use your own blood and tears to crate something that lasts beyond death.

Yes. We are making monsters. Supernatural things which we cant know the devastating details of. We add our voice to the clamor and hope sense shines through.

Because we have no choice.

Don’t you think Victor Frankenstein wished he was obsessed with podiatry? Do you think he took lightly the playing God stuff?

Do you?

And surrounded by artists bringing there own corpse king delicacies for review and appreciation.

And all in time for the Christian calendars dedicated date to such stunning resurrections.

Say it with me, Artists Freaks and Monster Makers: We Belong Dead.


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