An open love letter to my addiction

I can't describe it. Really.

A few years ago I recorded a cover of the Beatles' "Let It Be," using a digital eight-track recorder, an electronic drum kit, and my (then) brand new Gibson SG guitar. I just wanted to practice guitar soloing and had an idea for something for that song. I also liked the idea of attempting the vocal.

When I finally finished mixing it and listened to the finished product, I was stunned at how I felt. No, I wouldn't say it's better than the original. But I thought--and still think--that it was pretty good, especially since it was the first time I'd ever done anything like that. No, you won't find it online anywhere because of copyright issues--there's only a couple of people besides me who have ever heard it--but I listen to it now and then.

But I was astonished at the rush I got, listening to it. Burning it to CD, listening to myself through a stereo. Hearing it in my car. Me. That's me, singing that song, playing that guitar, that piano, nailing that guitar solo. Maybe it's not great, but it's me. Silly? Probably. But I don't care.

The feeling was intensifyed when I recorded this little instrumental I made up myself--"Hail, Anubis," using my (then) brand new Ibanez Iceman guitar, which I named Anubis, natch. It came out sounding exactly like it did in my head. There is no way on earth I can describe the feeling I got, listening to that thing.

Since then I've written and recorded a lot more stuff. Some of it I'm really happy with and hope you'll indulge if you haven't. In fact, some of it I'm extremely happy with (check out "Necrotopia", "Beast of Love", "On The Slab" just for starters). I listen to my own stuff all the time and I still get that feeling, every time. It still gets me off when I listen to my solo on "Ready" or "On The Slab" or the dark humor of "Beast of Love" or the power of my Gibson SG on the rhythm track of "Contact." I always relive the sweet sorrow I was feeling when I recorded the solo for "Contagion." It doesn't lessen. I don't need higher dosages as time goes by.

Which makes music a much better drug of choice than . . . well, anything. Don't you agree?