Some time ago we parted company with a record label. Signing a record deal is a gamble and our hearts (and pockets) were empty. I for one, was relieved to be free to go back home and make a new start.

Much earlier, we had elaborately drawn up various plans to make a record, all of which were postponed or abandoned for one reason or another.

Most all we had to show for the time which had lapsed was a backstreet bareboned mess of songs which had been outlined after dark in my third story bedroom. These snapshots of the very first time Karin actually sang these songs into a microphone were usually made a few days after a song was written.

It occurred to us that for better or worse these recordings told roughly the same story we had intended to tell on the record that never got made. Oh, we had plans alright, and this is a much simpler version of the story, but it’s still undeniably our story. And by telling it even in broken sentences, we feel the river begin to move again, making room for new stories.

Ric was able to take a real handful of the third story bedroom skeletons, flesh them out, and make them feel dangerously close to a record. And once again, we find ourselves with homespun pieces of reality. Memory markers in the meanwhile. The same story. Which, if you’ve read this far, obviously involves you. Enjoy.

P.S. Still waters run deep. Quiet music should be played Loud.