Recording is interesting. We're working on a low budget, since none of us are doing this as a full-time job, and none of us are rich. Luckily, we live in an age where basic, decent recording equipment and software are easily accessible for a low entry price. That price keeps growing, though. It's very easy to feed a desire for newness and excitement by purchasing new gizmos rather than do the hard grind of actually doing takes and editing what's recorded.

We started on the idea of an Ash Wednesday/Valentine's Day EP joking around during band practice. It's an interesting coincidence that happens once every other decade or so - the feast of an ancient Catholic martyr/matchmaker falling on the same day as the beginning of Lent, with fasting, ashes on one's forehead, and the reminder that we're going to die. Although a modern date nite and the ancient practice of self-denial while remembering mortality might seem contrary, the roots of both are remarkably consonant. So, a joke became a reality. Austin and I both wrote songs.

The two songs are complementary, as well. They both combine a tongue-in-cheek levity with a stark reminder of reality. It's funny to note, in a light-hearted quip, that your beloved is going to die, while at the same time it's scary. Austin's is a request for a date tinged with the realization that love can't last forever: “For the moment, would you be my valentine? … I can't promise you eternity, but I can promise me.” Mine grapples with the painful longing for love that can't be fully satiated in this life: “There's no length of days broad enough to span our love, and time can't enclose all your sweetness. The infinite longing that burns within our hearts cannot drink it's fill of earth's goodness.”

Just due to time constraints, we can't do a full recording process. From when we started, we have two weeks to go from freshly written songs to released music. This necessitates a stripped back, acoustic/folk sound, while keeping our emo/punk DNA intact. This is our first release, too, so I need to figure out the terms of service of several streaming apps. Facing an imminent release, the band also has to have some tough conversations about what we're doing with our music. Are we trying to make revenue? Or are we just trying to get people to listen, and so we're giving it out for free? Those aren't simple questions. The modest recording environment has an impact on sound, and I really want what we do to sound good. But good sound takes time and money. On the other hand, this is a passion project for all of us. The more time and money get poured into something like this, the more it starts to take on the character of a commercial enterprise. And the more we want to procure an audience, the more our music suffers in its artistic integrity. I don't want our sound to be commodified, but we have to afford recording it somehow.

I'll continue to post updates as the recording process goes on, and especially once we have music available. I want to dive into a question that I'm sure will be asked - how can a celibate priest write a love song? But for now, this is enough. Thanks for reading, and stay tuned for some cheeky reflections on death and romance.