The goal was to sound like the end of the world. The aspiration was to create a sonic landscape so thick it would cover the world like snow. Some indiginous tribes attempt to ward off evil spirits using ceremonial whoops and howls. I think we had similar ideas.

Razor18 formed after my previous band Soft Pleasing Light ceased to exist. I guess that was sometime around 1994. Robb and I often joked that if we ever got to put out an album it would have to be called "the exact moment my entire life went to shit" because as long as Razor18 was in existence, it seemed like our lives were falling apart. We used to play a game where we'd sit around and try to backtrack through time to figure out just where it was that everything went wrong. This would lead to ridiculous circumstances, for example "Thursday night I was eating a sandwich and watching Star Trek and I remember I was feeling pretty good but then by Friday morning I didn't even want to get out of bed." I can't speak for anybody else, but this basic contrast was the prime motivator in my life at the time. There were days that I felt young and happy and in love and full of life, and then there were days that I'd just lie on the floor with my head in my hands. And then there were the days that I'd get to play with this band -- the days when I really felt like we were about to hit on that one random combination of notes and frequencies that would flip a switch inside my head and let me figure it all out. And fleeting as these moments were, they made everything worthwile.

Razor18 was a struggle. It was a struggle to make something beautiful even though your heart was punctured and your teeth were clenched.

Razor18 was a shelter. It was a shelter from a life that was gradually going under and pulling you down with it.

And Razor18 was a band. Just a band that tried to make some music.