This recording was a do-over with Jim, so it has a full sound with big drums and a touch of pathos to the vocals.  The Scott version, while I like my bass part better (but then I have a decided bias), sounded terrible, so this is a definite improvement.

We were pretty consistent about this being the first proper track on the album, after the intro.

The lyric “I woke up this morning feeling like Snakelips” is in reference to our friend John.  See, men tend to wake up in a certain condition, and John was said to be in possession of a … more serious condition.  We’ll leave it at that.

The Kids Love It sessions started in late spring, 1997, with Ingus, Louis, and myself.  In an effort to break from the sound of the previous album, we chose a different engineer – Scott Paul – at the same studio in downtown Flint.  We didn’t do any demoing before this set of recordings, as most of the songs had been hashed out in the two years since State of Bliss.

The album was more or less complete by the end of summer, and it was at this point that I parted ways with the band – not through any internal disagreements, or anything of that nature.  Jason Kotarski, a long-time friend of the band, was inducted as the latest bassist in a long line.  As the album stewed with the new lineup, they decided the quality was extremely poor (those recordings / mixes were affectionately known as Do Not Release).  Thus began the long and arduous task of re-mixing or re-recording many of the album’s tracks.  Some songs were removed and new ones took their place.  “As Warm” went through several iterations before the band arrived at the final album version.

Then, in spring of ‘98, I returned to the fold, while Jason was shifted to second guitarist.  This lineup was fated to only survive through to summer, when Louis was made to “fire” Jason.  We recorded a live show shortly afterward for inclusion on the album that had now been in the works for over a year (the live show excerpts should appear after these recordings are all posted).

Some tensions had begun to form in the band, and they built to a breaking point in October, when Ingus announced his departure.  Scrambling to keep the band operating, Louis and I brought Jason back, and we set about trying to salvage the album: we cut several tracks and added the songs with my lead vocals back in.  We decided in the end to shelf the album, and there it has stayed until now.

All of that was the most convoluted way of explaining how while I’m playing bass on this adaptation of some words by John Kricfalsui, Jason provides my traditional “vocal” element.

During the re-recording process (engineered by Jim Fourniadis, because while we may grumble, he is a good man), Jim poked fun at Louis’ pronunciation of “hurtle,” pointing out it sounded like Louis was from one of the buroughs, saying, “hoitzle.”

Thermos:
This accidental juxtaposition of two separate takes induced quite a fit of laughter from all of us back when we were recording TAGPFTC.  When I ran across it during the remixing process, I had another good laugh.  …As if the belch would be the sound effect of the previously stated action.

Yeah, remember, we’re all about 7 years old.

Ingus:
Upon moving back from college in Ann Arbor to attend UM Flint (shut up, I was 19.), I found that my sister had taken over my previous bedroom in my parents’ house.  Instead, for the next year and a half or so, I occupied a hollywood-frame and a twin mattress in my dad’s rarely used basement office / study / ham radio bunker dubbed “The Radio Room”.  Above my bed was a homemade shelf which held a number of old ham radio magazines, some chemistry books from my dad’s college years, and some playboys from the 1960s.  For some reason, stabbed into said bookshelf was a #11 X-acto knife.

As recalled earlier by Thermos, The Radio Room was also a great place to record vocals, as it was finished with drywall walls and a ceiling (the rest of the basement was bare joists), and had no windows and a thick door.  Louis’ comment on this recording must have preceded or followed a vocal track, and, listening back to it, we all thought it was hilarious.

I don’t remember who belched, but it was most likely me, as, after the departure of Ratza, I was the classy one in the band.

* * *

In the near future, we’ll kick off the unreleased album Kids Love It!!!, the end result of several studio sessions spanning 1997-1998.

Thermos:
It may seem that I gave Ingus’ songs short shrift in the re-working department, but in actuality the two I did extra production on were the most intensive of the lot.  “Rivendell” took the greatest amount of time, as I had to compose the string arrangements and then play them – likewise the piano – and everything had to work with the existing guitar and flute parts.

The idea for the string orchestra grew out of showing up, honestly, whoever thought that the strings on the ‘96 version of “As Warm” qualified as being “arranged.”  With this song, I wanted to make each verse subtly different.  The first verse has two string lines, the second has three; the third and fourth verses bring the piano in over the previous string setup; the fifth is a repetition of the fourth; the “chorus” has the pizzicato parts until the end, when I bring in a big, swelling finish.  Since I wanted that last string chord to ring out a bit longer, I had to chop off the very end of the acoustic guitar and past it back into the mix a few seconds after where it used to be.  All in all, I’m happy with how this song turned out.

It pleased me a great deal to receive this message from Ingus, when I originally sent him the mix: “this. is. f@#!ing. sweet.”

I wish I could spend more time working on more classical arrangements.  The orchestra samples with which I can now work make that idea all the more enticing….

Ingus:
This is just fantastic.  Really, Thom outdid himself on this.  Makes me want to redo the vocals.  Maybe if he still has the strings programmed we can re-do it someday.  Not that I feel I could have sung it better in 1996, but I think 14 years of maturing might lend itself better to Rush’s account of Bilbo Baggins’ musings, having given up the Ring, adventuring, and the Shire to relax and retire with the elves in the title forest city.  In other words, I’m older now, and I think I understand Bilbo’s sentiments (as imagined by Neil Peart) more than I did then.

Let me reiterate, though – Thom’s string arrangement, piano and 1996 flute are fantastic.  This deserves a listen even if you have no interest whatsoever in Rush or The Lord Of The Rings.  I particularly like the transition from the stacatto plucking on the chorus to the full, lush whole notes of the following verse.  Seriously, I’m impressed.

Oh, and I still love Rush.  Mowed the lawn listening to 2112 just yesterday.

Thermos:
More trashy-mix-sounds for Louis’ cover of a song from The Ramones.

Louis wanted to play bass on a song, and what better start than covering a tune by The Ramones?  If you can keep a steady rhythm and play the tonic, you’re all set.  For this being his first recorded outing on said instrument, I think he does a bang-up job.  He’s much better now.

Listening to the song and looking at the above credits, you may ask, “Where are these harmony vocals?”  They’re there (in their chair) at the end of the song.  Unfortunately, since they were recorded on the same track, at the same time, with the same mic as Louis’ lead vocal, there was nothing I could do to beef them up.  You just have to listen REALLY closely.

Ingus:
Well, we only had the 4 tracks to work with…

Thermos:
I think this has turned into one of my favorite re-done songs from this album.  I had a lot of fun recording the new parts (especially the bass).  And, so you all know, I am actually playing these drum parts.  True, they’re triggered from a keyboard, but without a click track I can’t program them – they have to be played in.

Back in ‘96, I wasn’t overly keen on The Beatles (yeah, I was one of those guys).  I think part of it was the inundation of their music, along with The Ramones and assorted other bands, by my fellow bandmates that kept me from being able to approach the music on my own.  After I parted ways with Burnt Toast, I developed a much more friendly attitude toward many of the bands I would grouse about the five years I had to listen to them.

I still find it strange that half of my songs were by bands I didn’t listen to much (or, in one case, care for to any great degree).  But there  you have it.

Thermos:
Remember that first track called “All!”?  Well, this is a longer version.

I don’t know why I chose that particular voice for the “intro” part, or why I say almost every word twice.

Ingus:
This… This is just silly.  So of course, we thought it was brilliant.

Thermos:
Louis and I recorded the vocal and rhythm guitar live in the “radio room” that Ingus’ father had set up in the family basement.  I added the two “lead” guitars, and we thus completed the song with the quickest tracking of all these.

Then came 2010, and I just had to mess with it.  Louis has always criticized his own singing on this track as being too “cheesy,” so I tried to suit all the additional production to match.  I think it works.

On the original J-card, we credit this song to: “um… Phil Collins?”  You can tell Louis listened to that version more than any other, because he unconsciously adopts the British accent (he “kahnt control the quivering inside…”).  And c’mon, we’re all guilty of that (at least those of us who listen to British music with regularity).  I followed suit with the harmonies, just so it all matched.

Louis:

the “ooh I start to shiver” makes me feel like a bad person.  I guess I’m trying to be sexy?

Thermos:
Not much for me to say here.  I’ll leave the analysis, background, etc., to Ingus….

Ingus:
I don’t think I ever would have picked up a guitar if not for Josh Abitz, a friend from jr. high and high school.  In 1989, when we were freshmen, he made a tape called “Me And My Guitar”, with two or three original songs and a bunch of covers.  It was mono, most likely recorded on an old reel-to-reel, had a black and white xeroxed cover, and the entire second side of the tape was a mix tape of original versions of the covers from the first side, plus some really long James Brown track that at the time I had no hope of appreciating or understanding.  After I listened to the tape for the first of more than likely over a couple hundred times, Josh went from friend to hero, and I wanted to make a tape too.

Three years later, we were seniors, I had learned to play guitar, Ratza, Louis and I had started Burnt Toast, and Josh was in a band called Baseless.  This song is from their 1992 cassette-only release Randomnity.  I’d steer you toward the original, but I’m sure it’s long lost to the ether of post-high-school growing up.  My version’s not even close to as good as theirs, but I still like it.

Thermos:
Coming from the same cassette as “Buy Me More,” this song had even more problems on the vocal track.  Some of the tape “strudeling” is evident on the acoustic track, as well.  But, for the sake of including all the originally intended songs, here it is.

Have I ever mentioned I don’t care much for The Smiths?  It’s mostly Morrissey’s fault, but there you have it.  I had their greatest hits compilation at the time, though (for whatever reason), and I decided to tackle this song for this particular album.  I’d not played it before, nor have I played it since.  Good choice on my part, right?