It was bone-chilling cold. We looked like a couple of arctic, nomadic, gypsies heading off to a sub-zero hootenanny. It was all quite mad. We are searching for "the sound," that we hear in our heads, trying to get it all down in little recorded tracks.
It was just me, in a little padded room, with my guitars. The Madness of Jimmy Jammer. I blasted through the tracks, adding guitar flourishes and embellishments. Plus I did one long ripping solo, a blast of total, in the moment passion.
Afterwards I was totally drained. We're getting closer, still lots of work to do.
