The writing process for 'Golden'

Golden is the title of my newest song, and the writing process for this track was a little different from the other songs I've penned. Whereas most of the time I will write out all of the music and lyrics in real time with a guitar in my hands, this time I pieced everything together while recording. The timeline for Golden is like this:

Two nights ago: Play around with my delay pedal. Stumble across a neat riff.

Last night: Drink a beer while programming a simple drum beat. Drink another beer before recording drum beat and guitar simultaneously. Hook up delay pedal and lo-fi pedal to keyboard. Smoke a cigarette. Select Harpsichord setting, record bassline this way, while drinking more beer. Play back music while smoking a cigarette and writing lyrics on the fly. Drink another beer. Maybe two. Things are getting a little hazy. Record one vocal take, realize that I am too drunk to be singing, put on a Bill Hicks stand up special, finish my last beer and pass out.

Today: Wake up at noon. My face is stuck to the pillow with crusted drool. Eat a terrible Subway meatball sub for breakfast. Don't shower. Listen to the vocal take from last night. Cringe. Record a new vocal take. Smoke a cigarette. Listen. Cringe again. Drink a beer. Write a blog post about the song I am recording while drinking said beer. Go outside and smoke another cigarette. Notice a storm is brewing. Come back inside and start typing again, waiting for the alcohol to set in and loosen up the throat muscles. Hear a distant rumble of thunder. Decide to try another take.

Nailed it. Smoke a cigarette while listening to the finally completed track Now comes mixing, then jumping the file between computers so I can post it on the internet.

And that's how I wrote my latest song.

Lyrics:

We dance like ghouls with our arms cut off,
Our songs are interrupted by a mighty cough
But we keep on singin' like we need our throats to bleed.
Our passions are beats thumping 6/4 time,
Synthesizers take the place of clever rhymes
And we hold our breath til what's left is nothing but golden.

And all the time we spend in dimly lit clubs,
Losing our hearing for what we love.
That's the stuff our best nights are made of.

Oh the bass will pound til it shakes our spines,
But no one in the audience seems to mind.
We keep on pumping our fists into the air.

We came here to let the sound clear out our minds.
This is our idea of a great time.
And it's this mutual love that binds.

By the time we leave our clothes are soaked
With overpriced alcohol and scents of smoke.
Yet our hearts are gleaming oh-so-clean.

The party might be over but our ears still ring,
A parting gift from a wonderful evening.
The songs will swirl around inside our heads,
Playing over and over and over again.
At 120 decibels we forget our lives,
It was too loud to think, but that suits us fine.
At 120 decibels we forget our lives,
At least until it's time to say goodbye.