And what rough beast

Lack of Talent, its hour come round at last, slouches towards podcastdom to be born.

It’s late and I’m tired, so here’s the skinny: at the beginning of the year I ambitiously¹ resolved to record one song per month. Instead I’ve serendipitously turned up the LOT recording sessions from July 2005, which we call the Burlap Overseas, and which I never really went through. Now that stuff is backed up six ways from Sunday² and I owe it to my fellow Lack of Talenteers to go through all these hours of raw audio and pick out some interesting bits so we have something to build on the next time we get together³.

If you’re interested, feel free to subscribe to the podcast and listen along. Updates will be sporadic, perhaps even spasmodic or spastic. Now the disclaimers: you should know that LOT was never about songs or practice or technique or order or music, really; we are true to our name⁴; it’s about some friends gathering in my grandparents’ basement with lots of music gear⁵, even more alcohol, a box fan to keep us cool, a washing machine to clean Gramma’s clothes, and a microphone that runs the whole darned time. This is booze-soaked sonic experimentation among close friends and even if you hear nothing else, you should hear hints (or squeals, or yawps) of joy amidst the cacophony.

1. Read: foolishly ↩

2. Phew. I am a paranoid backup freak. ↩

3. Est. 2013 ↩

4. At least I am ↩

5. We switched instruments often, sometimes even playing the ones we could “play.” ↩