Last night, in the process of unpacking from Westercon/Conchord, I had cause to return some unsold CDs to the CD storage shelf. I've been shuffling things around recently, preparing for the arrival of Wicked Girls, which means that my stock is about as consolidated as it's ever been. Everything is, within a variance margin of maybe twenty disks, in the same place. Bearing this in mind...
...I now have sixty-seven copies remaining of Stars Fall Home.
Stars Fall Home was my first studio project. I joke that the theme of the album was "holy crap, I'm making an album," but that's not too far from the truth. Songs were being added and dropped right up until the last minute; tracks were recorded everywhere from the United States and Canada to the United Kingdom; for a while there, I really seemed to be doing my best to get everyone I'd ever met onto a single disk. I learned a lot about the recording process from this album. And I learned that I am incredibly blessed in the people who share my life.
Anyway, this is all sort of by way of saying that if you want to own the studio version of "Pretty Little Dead Girl" or "This Is My Town," my cover of "Still Catch the Tide," or any version of "Evil Laugh" or "Earthquake Weather," now is the time on Sprockets when you should probably consider ordering an album. I'm not planning to re-print for some time, if ever, so when they're gone, they're gone. And their shelf space will be given over to other albums, while the remaining copies of Pretty Little Dead Girl mutter about their neighbor who moved away.
It is so weird to realize that I'm almost out of an album. So weird.
...I now have sixty-seven copies remaining of Stars Fall Home.
Stars Fall Home was my first studio project. I joke that the theme of the album was "holy crap, I'm making an album," but that's not too far from the truth. Songs were being added and dropped right up until the last minute; tracks were recorded everywhere from the United States and Canada to the United Kingdom; for a while there, I really seemed to be doing my best to get everyone I'd ever met onto a single disk. I learned a lot about the recording process from this album. And I learned that I am incredibly blessed in the people who share my life.
Anyway, this is all sort of by way of saying that if you want to own the studio version of "Pretty Little Dead Girl" or "This Is My Town," my cover of "Still Catch the Tide," or any version of "Evil Laugh" or "Earthquake Weather," now is the time on Sprockets when you should probably consider ordering an album. I'm not planning to re-print for some time, if ever, so when they're gone, they're gone. And their shelf space will be given over to other albums, while the remaining copies of Pretty Little Dead Girl mutter about their neighbor who moved away.
It is so weird to realize that I'm almost out of an album. So weird.