Why Yes, I Do Accept Bribes... I Mean "Donations"

In early September I had an opportunity to do something I had never considered when I started playing drums.  I was asked if I might be interested in being one of three judges at Guitar Center's annual Drum Off at their Raleigh store.  I was honored to be considered but I wanted them to know what they were getting, or maybe it would be more appropriate to say, what they were not getting with me.  After clarifying that not knowing a damned thing about music theory or having even a remedial understanding of drumming concepts would not be deal breakers, I told them they could count me in.  I was happy to feel as though I was contributing to the local music scene in a different capacity.  And who hasn't wondered what it might be like to have on nothing more than a long, black robe and tennis shoes?  Plus, I get to be called "Judge Shelton" and "your Honor" now.  I can work with titles like that!

A Diamond in the Rough Mix, Part Deux

As the first day of recording Loincloth's second album drew to a close I felt as though things had gone quite well at Pershing Hill Sound.  Thankfully, I don't get anxious before going into the studio anymore.  I have accepted the fact that there will always be a part of me that feels ill prepared, and that things beyond my control might, and probably will happen.  All you can do in those situations is to roll with the changes.  I was bolstered by Tannon's excitement as he heard many of my ideas for the very first time while "tape" was rolling.  For him, Loincloth has been nothing more than endless guitar files since we finished writing everything in Richmond last year.  He needed to have his pilot flame reignited.  I was confident that would happen, and when it did I appreciated his enthusiasm.  Since he and I have ended up having the greatest veto power it was nice to see him smiling like a kid in a candy store.  It was too late to make any significant changes, so seeing his approval turn into giddy excitement was a relief.  When I was a kid I never had a cheering section to push me along. That is one thing he and Monica are both great at, and it makes a difference.  I hope all of you have cheerleaders among your friends and family.  Not the ones who throw a beer bong in your face and yell "Chug! Chug!", but the ones who really hope you do well in life.  Maybe being the beer bong champion means a lot to you.  We don't judge around here.  Not unless you suck.

A Diamond in the Rough Mix

The dust has finally settled at Pershing Hill Sound after three intense days of recording drums for the next Loincloth album in our endless pursuit of sublimely twisted metal.  My monster drum kit and I set up camp in Master Greg Elkins' studio to lay down the beats that could potentially lead the world to a better place for all humanity.  A place where drummers are the ones who get the lead roles in movies talking about snares that go "up to eleven" and singers are those who spontaneously combust onstage. A world where gingers like myself have songs sung about them instead of being ridiculed for their superior intelligence and intimidating good looks.  A world where percussive brilliance buys access to the highest levels of power.  A Stevetopia where tolerance for all is based upon one hundred percent acceptance of my ideas and only those fools who disagree are led to reeducation camps, or shamed into silence.  That is the scale of Loincloth's dream, and as of two weeks ago the world is one step closer to its realization.