Greetings dear blog followers! Please pardon the lengthy delay between posts. It’s not that I haven’t been writing- I have been writing my proverbial behind off for a project you’ll see the results of next year (if not sooner). In fact, the last post “He Dropped His Body” was a direct result of these autobiographical memoirs which I’ve been hammering away at almost daily. I’ve also been busy wrapping up mixes on the new trio album (due in October) and getting ready for a six week tour supporting a couple easy listening groups- (Slayer and Megadeth) ; ).
I write you from a place called Moncton. It’s way up in New Brunswick and no one seems to have heard of it, not even Canadians. There is nothing to distinguish Moncton from anywhere else- it has a gas station, a liquor store and houses. It’s a bit like the Twilight Zone, a place that doesn’t really exist- in fact, I feel like I’m communicating to you from some mythical netherworld. In fairness, we’re not in the ‘downtown’ area. Today’s venue is, like many concert arenas, out in the boondocks. I guess even the boondocks have boondocks…
That said- I did manage to squeeze out one special blog post just before I left for tour. This post addresses something which I’ve been meaning to get off my chest for a long time. Some may be surprised by it and some may not agree, but no matter how you feel about it, it just might make you hungry… (I know that sounds weird, you just have to read it). This post appears courtesy of the great publication Guitar Player Magazine, to whom I’m thankful for sharing this series on their blog. (And apologies to the guy in the photo, Michael Angelo Batio. We’ve met, he’s a really, really nice guy! Sorry, Mike, that image is too perfect for this piece). So without further ado, please click here, kick back and get set for… THE SHRED EPIDEMIC!
