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Recover
RECOVER – Challenger – The Story:
You hold in your hands a small piece of a bigger picture, which faded as if it were a reverse Polaroid. Not to say that this picture was never fully realized later on, but this particular segment almost disappeared like that of its namesake, CHALLENGER. Don’t worry, like The Boss said, “Everything dies, baby, that’s a fact. But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.” Well, here we are.
Originally, we thought it would be a great idea to include what we called “The Story of Challenger” or something along those lines – a summary, if you will, of how Challenger came to be, went away and has now come crawling back. Rather, an explanation of how a collection of songs from so long ago never saw the light of day after so much hard work and so many good times were had in the process of making them come to fruition. However, that full story is far too long and precious to be put into words. Too many finite details and delicate intricacies to print and still serve it justice. There are short stories within the tale that we’d hate to forget or leave an important player out of. It’s almost like what they say about the 1960’s - If you remember ‘em, you weren’t really there. Or the mafia – Those who know don’t tell and those who tell don’t know. Something like that. What we can do is give the best summary of the facts that we can recall…
Challenger was written and recorded in the summer of 2003 as we were doing pre-production for our album that would later be entitled This May Be The Year I Disappear. The recordings found here on Challenger are what became known as the B-Sides of the sessions or the songs that were canned in place of the tracks that made the cut. During this time we were set up in a lovely home on the East side of Austin on Trafalgar Drive that was soon dubbed, “The Gar.” This is where we were to do the writing and cultivating of influence and motivation to make a record. It was a legendary pad. We say it was a lovely home, which it was, but in actuality it was a wild, debaucherous, loud yet intensely inspired household. Pairedwith a cast of characters too long to list who left the front door as quickly as they came in through the back door. There were tons of ‘em. Some helped clean up the mess and some just helped make it. A few may have gone completely unnoticed like a fly on the wall while others will leave a permanent imprint on the memories of everyone involved. We were friends and we were family. Most of us still are. I wish I could get into the icky details and tell some crazy tale of this alleged “wild” place we lived in – maybe some truly shocking story that seems unbelievable or like something from a grand fantasy, but that would take all night and you’ve got a record to listen to.
Turn it up.
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