Click on the artwork for the full scoop on each era...

I listen to Depeche Mode, and think of Sweden. Songs of Faith and Devotion was a CD I found while we were recording Water. The sound of it, especially "I Feel You" is very efficient at waking up all the memories of that tightly wrapped summer. The song's video was a fixture on Euro-MTV at the time, and was the first DM song that caught my attention.

It's lonely feel is a snapshot of that time, and calls up the emotions I was knee-deep in. All of these questions kept repeating:

The last one is the easiest to answer, because our "exotic excursions" were always fueled by SK's lack of spending conscience and a need to record in remote places to "experience the local color". It was designed to "give us a vibe". It also sounded cool when we explained our recording locale to the inquisitive press. Most journalists were more interested in the idiotic decision, as opposed to the romantic hideaway value of Sweden.

Our families were more interested in why we were a costly ten hour plane ride away from home, especially since we had been gone for the last nine months (never mind the fact that if we did record in our backyard, we'd get no work done). Nobody listening to any musical performance gives a rat’s ass where you put it to tape. Does it sound cool coming out of their speakers, where they are? The vibe is in the music and where it takes you, not the location of its origin.

Stockholm was stunningly beautiful, but the conflict in the air made a sunny day down by the rivers feel gloomy. Sunshine or not, it was about to storm. I got up every morning, went down to the vast breakfast buffet, and secretly wondered when it would be time to go home. Today? I never felt that way about playing music before.

What made those meals worse were our talks with Matt, and I later felt real empathy for his position. At some point during the last six months his mind had switched to "Need Something New" mode and he was trying to prepare himself (and us) for his exit.

They were very tense talks, since he'd already made his mind up to leave and others were attempting to talk him back. It's a horrible decision to make, having formed something, seen it grow, and then decide to leave it because it became something you didn't want it to. He was farther down Unhappiness Lane than I would ever be, and there was no calling him home. He was way out of earshot.

One day in May he said that's it, I am gone. The remaining three were hell bent on the CD's completion. It was a desert island mentality: We can't leave because this is all we have. So we pushed on, and debated name changes, approaches, extra personnel, etc... until the cows came home.

We started the CD with a "write it then record it" recipe. THAT was a blast. When Matt left, so did the risky spontaneity. Instead of playing, we started working. I never minded the discipline it took to learn my craft, but this had turned into clocking in and clocking out. It was focused routine with an emphasis on avoiding a blowup. Kevin Beamish had warned us about this when I was in COLD SWEAT. "We are not making Widgets" he used to remind us. Over and over. Luckily, CS wanted to play and keep the mood light, and that made it onto the performances. From my Solna perch, it sounded good, but there was little life in the Water CD.

I still have difficulty listening to Water; it was recorded live, but it felt dead. Instead of music, I hear all of the bickering and petty bullshit that never served a purpose for any of us. It might have been a function of our youth; not being able to see the big picture and just get on with it. Ignore the stupid minor turf wars, and move on to greener pastures. We didn’t make it, as you know by now.

Matt had left, but we managed to squeak a record out by going back home to Tampa and finishing up. It stiffed in the USA, but did well overseas. Specifically in a country in the Pacific Rim.