Welcome to the world of Surface Wound. We’re so sick of saying how close our new album is to being finished. Suffice it to say, if it were any closer, we’d be working on the follow-up already. I mean, it’s really close.
Being a band member and a wage slave and a husband and a father (for two of us, well three since Steve feels very fatherly towards his cats) is intense. And trying to create art on your own terms, work with people who are great at what they do but who also have their own career/salary needs…well, it’s a hustle.
When my old band, Too Much Joy, set out in our singer’s mom’s minivan for our first-ever rock tour, the four of us just out of college and pinching ourselves at our good fortune to have released this weird little record and get it played enough on a few college stations so that we could book our own tour (long distance lines courtesy of various temp/day jobs — thanks Steve Gottlieb!), I remember having the strangest feeling as we pulled out of town; I saw a bunch of middle-aged businessmen waiting patiently on the train platform and I said to myself, “God, I wish that were me.”
Crazy, right? Here we were footloose and fancy free, not a care in the world and embarking on this incredible adventure, and I was jonesing to become one of the Jones’s. I think I was just craving the routine — and possibly the income.
Twenty-something years later and the shoe is firmly on the other foot. Although my tolerance for sharing beds/floors with my bandmates is probably not as high as it once was.
Which is a long way of saying — we’re really eager for you to hear what we’ve been cookin’ up…