We were entering our fourth month in music city USA. Somewhere between being strung out from the road and dealing with growing angst in anticipation for our return to the studio, we snapped.
It was as though we finally realized we didn't have to fall into the bottomless pit of pseudo psychotic, self loathing musicians that call Nashville home. Rather, we sat down on December 17th, wrote End Of The World and came terms with our situation. We let go of the worries and stresses that accompany the life of an artists and accepted the fact that, however big the battle, it was a battle we chose to live. A bitter sweet love affair involving the ever growing sense of hopelessness, the passion for your art and love for life on the road. I walked in to our bass player's room and asked him if he wanted to go out for some drinks…
"naw man, I'ma lay down I think."
I was deflated, but expectant of the reply.
"Dude, they say it's the end of the world soon"
Staring at the wall he answered,
"I'm not so sure that I mind"
That was it. That was the first line of the song we'd been trying to figure out for weeks. In the next ten minutes we wrote it down, worked out the harmonies and called the other members. Some fourteen hours later we were in the studio recording our first single, End Of The World. As it turned out, the Mayans were wrong and the world did not end. Life went on as it had before. We showed up to work on December 22nd in the same manner we had the past 120 days; slightly hungover, void of enthusiasm and drunk with daydreams of a life spent touring. But we had all changed. We realized that no matter how bad things can get, we still have our music- and that's why we're here. No financial burden will weigh us down, no depression can outlast the beauty of playing live, no apocalypse can stop us.
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