Studio 606, LA
February 2011

In an unassuming neighbourhood somewhere just outside of downtown LA an ominous rumble has begun….

For the next 9 days that rumble is going to turn into one of the great rock albums of the 21st century… Karma To Burn are recording again.

For the last 3 hours the cascading riffs of 48 have poured from a pair of the nicest speakers these ears ever set, well, ears upon.

We’ve been listening to the same 5 minutes and 42 seconds of music the whole time and it’s never got tiresome… if anything it improves with every listen.

I’m sure that’s at least something to do with the engineering.. Lou seems to be some kind of button-pushing, nob-turning, slider-sliding genius.. Everything sounds unbelievable.

More likely though it’s the fact that like most every Karma To Burn tune you’ve heard before, there’s more riffs and great ideas in this one song that most bands will come up with in a career.

Sure, admin is biased, but even so… anyone who ever slipped on a K2B record and tapped their foot is in for a treat.

Bellies full, guns loaded… artwork done and (rapey smiles non-withstanding), so is the photography.

Time for some audiophonics…

We are writing…

Mwahahahaha!!!

.. this can possibly only mean one thing:

Karma to Burn are about to start recording again.

Fuck yeah!

100% K2B

All the travelling is starting to catch up with us!

In other news, we’ve signed up some backup-singers: “The Karmettes”:

They’re brilliant….

… except the one with no mouth

.. she’s rubbish

.

Silver ball comin’ at my head,
spikes emerge, sense of dread

Mausoleum, halls of white,
blood spatters in the night.

(chorus)
My life is a phantasm
My dreams are reality
Wake my brain so I can see
Immortality.

Truth calls, in my bed,
Don’t fear, is what she said

Red planet, slave to waste,
grilled turkey, I must baste…

(Ok, the grilled turkey part is a joke which I know won’t make it into the song)

The guitar goes like this: dun dun dun, dun dun dun, dun dun dun, dun dun dun…. and stuff. It’s in E, or G, or fucking F or some shit. Regardless of the key, there is obviously a capo involved. Duh. And no compression. This was written without compression.

Your welcome,

Matt

I’ll have them in a vice if there’s compression.

Philly we love you!

So I just ordered a suit made of cellophane for your wedding.

I hope my junk, which will be in clear view, won’t distract from your service. I often find that when I wear my cellophane biker shorts around town I get a lot of looks that I consider consequential at best.

I’m not proud of my 16 inch dong but I am fond of letting it get sunlight – it’s where my body absorbs the most vitamin D. And D is short for Dickamentphetothine.

Which is what the sun gives us.

I can now reveal that the man, the myth, the legend that is Ronnie G exists. Whether or not he will ever return from his reckless pursuit of hedonism to take his place at the forefront of the legendary riff machine that is KTB is another question.

Our research also revealed a basic truth of rock. This truth can be traced back through the mists of time, past jongleurs, wandering minstrels and bards and on into the primordial sludge out of which came Robert Johnson, Big Bill Broonzy, Blind Willie Nelson and through to the psychedelia, Led Zep, Sabbath and on, leaving its mark on Metallica and Kyuss, finally coming to rest in the home of instrumental that is KTB.

This truth has been constant since this time, there have been iconoclasts who have failed to recognise this basic tent of rock, but they have suffered for their oversight. What is this truth? It is simply this – at gigs you must discuss your cats.

I now add another truth – gardening is cool. Things are coming along apace in the garden, the green shoots stand as testament to our work and fill me with joy every time I see them. Our goat is happy, miffed that Basil has not returned her calls, but she’ll get over it. Long distance is always dodgy. We are getting a couple of sheep at the weekend to keep the grass down and they will be delicious I am sure.

I trust all is well with you and the tour is going down like the bomb or somesuch youth street lingo that I am too old for.”

A beautiful serenade from our friends in Greece on the last night of the 2010 European Tour.

Thank you to all our friends across Europe, it has been both an honour and a privilege!!!

See you again soon….

Look, I am a famous movie producer for television and I don’t need no oversized sunglass-clad wrong turn virginia kid telling me about stuff I need to know.  I will fly there on my fucking enterprise starship if I feel like it and beam down a shitload of man on the silver fucking mountain.  How is that for “giving back?”  And yes, Bloomberg – it was a fucking Muslim you idiot.

Sent From Outer Space

From: Some Guy

I am so into myself i sent this to myself.

Begin forwarded message:

From: Some Guy

sorry about that last email.  you know i am in love with all of you.  the other me took over briefly.

Sent From Outer Space

Click ME!!!!!!

The experience could be described rapidly as a heady mixture of bruising riffs, pot smoke and punishment candy, but would be to do the whole band a massive disservice. Something more explicit is required:

Karma To Burn are the best live band in the world

I speak from a position of authority; I have seen every band in the entire world, honestly!

An awful lot of live music (or simply music in and of itself) is wrapped up in personalities and performances… The Business of Show for want of a better phrase.

You go and see the Pixies, you go and see Frank Black and Kim Deal.. You go and see Gang of Four and you watch Jon King destroy a Microwave oven with a metal pipe… these are fine things if done well.. where might we be without Bowie?

Conversely to this exuberance there is The Riff. Music condensed to it’s most elemental form. The bare matter from which all other songs and symphonies are constructed…

When you go see K2B what you get is The Riff, and that is all… no distractions, no lectures, no posturing, no pouting and no lyrics… just The Riff.

When Plato suggested that all physical objects have a perfect form which they derive their nature, that there must be some perfect, abstract chair to which all mere physical chairs aspire in their way, he may just as well have been talking about K2B (who are, let’s not forget quite, quite popular in the Hellenic world)…

In their hands they hold the perfect abstraction of all music.

Make of that what you will…

I must regretfully inform you that I will not be making the gigs this weekend.  On my voyage across the Atlantic I secured an opening slot for Einsturzende Neubauten in Oslo, Norway where I performed as one man hip hop band M.C. Potato Pancake.  As I stood in line for the toilet at the after party, the monkey-faced guitarist from Iron Maiden spilled a glass of cocaine on my new throwback jordan’s.  A prompt haymaker to his throat has landed me in the local lockdown.  Interestingly, it is here I met Saul Rosensilvermann, casting director for the live action version of the Hobbit.  He was so impressed with the stability and prowess of my beard I have been cast as Bard the Bowmen, leader of the lakemen and slayer of Smaug “The Terrible”.  Shooting begins in Paw Paw West Virginia this Saturday.  Please tell Richard to send all my outstanding per diems to the Oslo District Attorneys office to post my bail.  After shooting raps I will be returning to my fortress of solitude in the north where I will await future contact or contact from the future (whichever comes first).

Fire musket but I’ll run you through……R.G.