We arrived at The Fidelitorium at around noon carrying all of our pillows, duffel bags, about a weeks worth of groceries and various supplies for making a rock album. Basically resigned to move in to the place, we got situated and after some conversation began the process of choosing from all of the incredible gear that was available. When I said to Mitch, "Wow, you have an amazing amount of toys!" he responded, "This is serious business equipment," with a sideways smile. As the day rolled on he got the drums set up with about a dozen or so mics, which led to a truly great full kit chorus that was well defined and ready to have tracks laid upon it. By the end of the day we had a couple of takes of Capitol Steps and an almost complete Inkblot Candor. We broke at around 1 AM, found all of our sleeping spaces and crashed for the night. I fell asleep gazing at the shadowed frames of five gold records. What a great way to go to sleep.
-Misty Dawn

I want to look into whether there's some official means of seeking asylum at Fidelitorium. Seriously. I've been long overdue for a few days' off from my miserable fucking dayjob anyway, and to find myself spending said days off at this beautiful, magical place, in the company of my best pals and Mitch Easter and a shitload of the finest music equipment available to man is...well, serendipitous, to say the least.

The simple act of draping oneself upon one of the comfy couches in Fidelitorium's control room in order to listen to playbacks takes on a whole other set of meanings when the sounds that come blasting back from monitors are easily the best ever sonic representations of our music committed to tape. Or disc, or hard drive, or whatever. To say that Mitch's stellar, thirty-year reputation as one of the best producers on Earth is deserved is an understatement of vast proportion.

Rich slept on a sparkling vinyl couch in the lounge last night with his shoes on. Misty and Jason occupied an upstairs room in the studio, a room reached via spiral staircase, a room in which gold copies of "Murmur" and "Reckoning", among others, adorn the walls, a room which is home to an unspeakable number of classic guitars. Jason Hall and I occupied the aforementioned control room couches (he got red, I got blue, because that's how I roll) and slept bathed in the lights of the massive mixing board.

Then we woke up, breakfasted over laptop news, and got down to business.

So, the real question is, where do I fill out the asylum petition? Who has to approve it? Does Mitch Easter have to agree, or is he somehow honor-bound to recognize a legally-declared designation of my status as a refugee from stupid jobs, an infuriating political climate, and the student loan people?

I'd better start buttering up the State Department.
-Bryan Cabler

VIDEO BLOG (Misty)

Day - 3

Day - 4

Day - 5