In less than three weeks, my band Burnt by the Sun will go into the studio to record our third and final record. Titled Heart of Darkness, this record is based upon the classic Joseph Conrad novella of the same title. For anyone who’s ever read it, or watched Apocalypse Now (which is loosely based on the book), you know that the themes that are explored in the book are very dark. They deal on one hand with colonialism and racism and the cruelties they brought about in the late 1800s; on the other they deal with the nature of mankind in a way that is both timeless and utterly disturbing.

I don’t want to come off as being another pretentious artist trying to make the most out of this record. But I do feel compelled to share some of the story behind the making of Heart of Darkness. For some time now, I’ve been driven to write a record like this. The themes of that story struck a nerve in me long ago and it has never left me. I suppose it is natural to want to understand human nature more, in particular the dark, scary side. Most of us don’t think deeply of these things, but we all know they exist. People go insane everyday. You see them on the street, surrounded by people but far removed. You hear about them in prison, sentenced to weeks in solitary confinement, a condition which breaks down the body, the spirit and then the mind itself. Others are born with chemical imbalances that render their minds in ways that don’t fit well within our civilization. And other people are haunted by their thoughts, or by the spiritual world, and it leads them, too, to live a life that most of us would consider unconventional.

But there is another type of insanity – if you can even call it that – that does not come about through birth or an abuse of some sort. Some people enter into that world on their own and adopt a new way of seeing things. They see the normal as abnormal. They see right as wrong, and vice-versa. They deny a distinction between good and evil, and build a code that reflects that belief. There is a logic to what they do that justifies their actions to themselves, and recognizing that logic is the most terrifying part of it. That is why stories like Heart of Darkness and Apocalypse Now are so effective. Those stories are not about bad people per sé; there are a million stories of bad people and bad things that we’ve all heard throughout our lives. No, they are effective at scaring the hell out of you because they give you the opportunity to explore the logic of evil. Reading those stories, at some point you find yourself understanding the psyche of these dark characters, and begin to understand and even sympathize with human nature in a way that you did formally wrote off as “insane.” Dig deeper and you begin to give a lot more thought to the story of Adam and Eve, and the questions about original sin and the existence of evil lead you far and deep down a path that grows more and more intimidating as you travel along.

It is in this sense that BBTS: Heart of Darkness is being written.

What has been difficult about writing this record is letting my mind tip into directions which bring me great discomfort. Getting into that mindset is a very dangerous undertaking – as any of you more spiritual types can understand and appreciate. It is like standing on the wrong side of a railing around a cliff, and you’re holding on by the fingers of one hand. You let your body slowly fall backward until you pull yourself back an inch or two, changing hands mid-air. Your faith in God (or whatever you choose to call that mighty positive force in the universe) is what keeps you sharp enough to prevent your fingers from slipping off the railing. And hopping back over that proverbial rail is just like the same thing: you suddenly realize how dangerous your position is and your heart starts to race, your body is almost paralyzed with fear until you are safely on the other side.

What has made things more interesting is that I do not have the answers to the questions that I am asking. The deeper I would dig, the more questions would pop up, and the more I realize that to not answer those questions would not only make for a horribly pretentious and confusing record, but also frustrate me. To do something and not quite know why, and then to explore the questions and come out the other side with no answers was a horribly depressing thought. For a while I was torn about whether or not to continue. But fortunately, some weeks ago we decided what the final track of the record would be, and I had the opportunity to decide the note on which the record will end. By making the decision to change the last line of the record end on the particular note, I chose to bring everything full circle for me, almost in a way that I did not control. It was as if I was being led there. Now, as I continue to write the last few tracks that will compose the lower-numbered tracks on the record, I do not know at this point where I will be taken, but that uneasiness has let up a bit. I don’t know the answers to the questions I’ve been digging into but I do know where the questions end. It is an odd thought.

I have no idea if the lyrics I’m writing for this record will convey any of this, and I’m sure that this blog entry has likely come off as shitty, pretentious self-importance. Oddly enough, for perhaps the first time in my life, I don’t give a shit how I am coming off. Maybe, in the end, that’s what I’m supposed to get out of all of this. I hope some day I can understand why, after so many records that expressed conventional social commentary and concern, I chose to make this my last statement with a hardcore band.

One week and counting. Actually less. After two long years, its almost over. 

Even for political junkies like me, this has been too long of a process. Working in the field has been taxing. Several times I’ve had to take a hiatus from regular consumption of news and commentary. I’ve had times where I’ve passed on the opportunity to engage in political chatter (barstooling, if you will) because I was just simply too burnt out. As we’ve gotten closer to E-day though, its been impossible to ignore the coverage. I start every morning getting my political fix before my coffee fix, even if it is just to review what I read the night before on Politico or RealPolitics.  And as we approach the final stretch, I find myself wondering how I will entertain myself when this is all over. An addict I am; even an addict that can stop every now and then. But there has been a subtle but very real sense of despair that comes with the realization that the horserace is coming to a close. Some equate it to what some in prison experience- institutionalization. Others say it is like a substance addiction. I think it is a bit of both.  

In prison, a lifer accepts his fate to the point that he adapts to the environment and develops new systems of support and familiarity. In the political world, it starts out much like that.  The energy of operating in campaign mode is at first a shock, as anyone who has every worked on a political campaign or issue camaign knows. You’re always working – even when you’re not. There is so much that needs to be done each day that you cannot afford to let your mind slow down. Before long though, you adapt to it. Your body and spirit accept it and, before you know it, it is a part of you. You want to keep going at it. You want to indulge. You want to keep feeding it and perfect your work. When the end of the tunnel comes into view, it is disconcerting. You start to realize just how accustomed to operating on full cylinders you’ve become and, though you’re dying for a vacation, you don’t want to shut it off.

Case in point: I recently organized a pretty large operation around the presidential debate on Long Island. I spent months working towards it. As the date got closer, the tension was almost unbearable. When the day came, I had more energy than I had in years, despite having started at 4 a.m. and skipped out on eating the whole day. When the day ended, I was so amped that I opted for more work after midnight just to be a part of the energy on campus. The next day my body was completely wiped out and my spirit became depressed. Two weeks later and I still feel it. Though I am still working on an issue campaign through Election Day, the big even of the year is over. The success has come and gone, saddly. Once you get used to the energy, you realize it  is addictive, even in short bursts. 

I cannot fathom how the Obama campaign staff are holding up. I know some of them and they aren’t even thinking of the end yet – or so they say. I imagine they’re in denial. Living off of that high level of energy for 20 months is incomprehensible to me, let alone when you factor in the signficance of being an active part of electing the prospective first black president. It is common knowledge that the end of campaigns are very difficult to handle for most staffers, win or lose. But the Obama folks will have it harder than anyone in recent memory.  If Obama is elected, I wonder how long it will take for the reality to “hit them”. If Obama loses, I can’t imagine how long it will take for them to recover.