At the last minute, I decided to drive home to Salt Lake from Cascadia this holiday. It felt like my dog was depressed after losing her lifetime buddy and she would benefit from seeing people and dogs of her youth.
The drive was a bit uncertain at times, heading over Snoqualime pass right before it was to be closed and another similar pass in Oregon. I've done this drive a few times now but never in the middle of winter and the enormous beauty along with the potential brutality of nature was a memorable companion to my thoughts for the 850 mile journey.
Near the the end of which is a barren wasteland between Idaho Falls and Logan. It's always really dark because there are fewer cars in that stretch and the elevation provides a great view of the stars. Along with that comes this unsettling vibe that's a mixture of fatigue, dread and mystery that gives my overactive imagination the strong impression that Mother Nature simply does not want us there.
It was an incredible, cold, ominous, omnipresent darkness that was unlike I've seen it before. It wasn't cold enough to snow so the precipitation would come and go with intense walls of rain and blasts of winds. With my dog in the backseat, I felt like I had to be on-guard and at attention to protect us from the spirit of the mountains and massive trucks hurtling through the night with seemingly even more hostility than the cold.
After returning home, I was sitting down to arrange and mix this record and that unending darkness, and the imaginations and reflections it catalyzed, was a powerful influence on the final direction of the sound.
exclusive behind the scenes photo of the tone generators (Oberheim SEM PRO, MakeNoise DPO and Qu-Bit Electronix — Nebulae) and my awesome production assistant.
released January 11, 2015
Steve Duncan - Original Photo (www.undercity.org
Brian Bourassa - Image Edits & Cover Graphics