From the desk of: Stephen "Scuba" LaCour
RE: Outcome of recording session
As the eternally transient member of TT, 2010 was an odd year for me. I spent a majority of my time in Brooklyn, which had been my home in what seems like a lifetime ago. Not being on tour and having to readjusted to being in the same place night after night was not easy. Of course it's great to hang with the same friends, make friends with my bodega guy who in my absence has been selling a lot less beer, and working a regular 9-5 was like spinning my wheels. "Is this what I missed?" We passed on tours to focus on writing, which turned out to be one of the best decisions we could have made. It's intimidating to think about what we're going to write after this monster. After being out of New England for a couple days, I can listen to it with fresh ears and say that this is exactly the record we wanted to make and something that we're infinitely proud of. Now is the time to do what we as people, as compulsive neurotics, as maladjusted lunatics what we feel best about. To take these bleak hymns of anger, depression, vehemence, and rage and force them on unwitting and some willing strangers. To break our instruments and bodies for the live interpretation of what may be our magnum opus. We may not be too easy on the eyes, but we're ready to bring blood every night. Things will get broken. Feelings will be hurt.
I've watched my friends change beyond recognition while I was gone. I've felt personal and family relationships wither and deteriorate. I traded in any normal semblance of life to get in the van and I wouldn't have it any other way. When it's all over and I'm just another fresh grave in potters field, a broken guitar, a burned out amp, a young corpse covered in scars, the mortician won't be able to wipe the smile off my fucking face. Now we do what we do best. Wreak havoc, wreck lives, and bleed for everything that world doesn't think we're worth. It's war and no one gets out.