Golden Age – A Healing Project

23 Ever Changing Covers:

If you’re looking for something that was here check All Covers –

The majority of these covers were recorded live with my iPhone 13 Pro in our dining room in Detroit. The kids can often be heard in the background. Many songs are filled with flaws, fumbles and misremembered lyrics. I typically use too much reverb on the vocal mic and record hot due to my hearing issues. These are intentionally extremely unpolished sketches. Some of my rearrangements are intentional, some of them due to the limits of my own ability. I don’t own the rights to lyrics or music.

These sketches are part of an ongoing healing process. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, but I kicked alcohol in the spring of 2017. A great deal of my life has been metal and emotional detox since then. Removing alcohol from my daily routine has brought an understanding of how booze was intertwined in all my relationships. Drinking had also become integral to my connection to music as it was key to the connection with and adoration of my muse(s).  Suffice to say, creativity without alcohol has been fleeting at best. I’ve struggled with the transformation and with attempts to write new material without reaching toward inebriation.

These tracks are part of a healing process and an attempt to rewire some of my internal connections; to establish relationships, sometimes for the first time, that are not fueled by or based upon alcohol.

  • Some of these songs are from my childhood and somehow connected to my interest in altered states.
  • Some of these songs, and the challenges and emotions they extoll, have transfixed me since I first heard them.
  • Some of these songs have perplexed me. All of them have challenged my technical ability, coordination and focus. 

For the past five years, being unable to write anything new without unleashing demons, I have turned to these songs as gestures toward laying a foundation. To connect my fingers to the strings without lubrication, to find my way back to worship at the temple of my muse(s) without wine.