On Saturday night, packing my bags and drinking the last of Tex Houston’s home brewed Pale Ale (with the label - ‘Honest honky juice - cleaner than Kilgour’), it seemed fitting that the snow was coming in. I felt like it was snowing in my head, and I’d have to sleep for a very long time.

We’d had nine straight days of blue sky and dry, cold sun, and on almost all of those days Tex and I had worked close to 12 hours. Tex even more so, as I always turned up half an hour late.

The recording part of the album is done, and it’s now in Tex’s hands.

There were overwhelming moments during that time - moments when I really felt we were creating something huge. On those nights I couldn’t sleep with excitement.

I slept best after the couple of days when nothing seemed to work, and I thought I would have to re-write all my parts.

Nothing went the way I imagined it would, but my expectations became irrelevant. I couldn’t have imagined how good it actually went.

In saying that, I’m still too afraid to listen back to the raw bounces. There’s is nothing safe on the record. There are pitchy vocal takes, improvised guitar parts, nasty synth sounds, and a whole heap of things are just really weird. But it all made total sense while we were in there.

Logan said to me the other night that when we recorded Marion Bates Realty, there was a tension, because we were reaching for something that we couldn’t quite get to. We both think we got to it on this one.

Thanks to Tex, Bugs, Stu, Jonathan, Logan, Paul, Michael, and Rainy for an insane fortnight’s work. Thanks to Jess, Bugs, Prue, and Cat for their hospitality, and to Rob, DJ, Thom, Aidan, Adrian, and Mike for lending out such great gear.