The NBT Music Columns: Cold Iron Goes Adventuring

coldironBy Jobi Mihajlovich from the unique and exciting
Americana/experimental band Cold Iron
 

A couple weeks before the scheduled release of our album, Sean and I had to go out to
Vancouver, the city it was named after, to take the tracks to my brother for mastering and also start rehearsing the set as he is flying in to play in our stage band at the CD release party. We also had to meet up with our friend, producer Ian Wetlands, to iron (haha) out the final details of the track we collaborated on. So after being awake for two days straight, mixing the tracks and going to our day jobs and so on, we met up at my apartment, took stock of our provisions, and set out on the 14 hour journey with our trusty friend Vance (a.k.a. The Vanceporter, mostly because he’s the only one with a car) in the middle of the night. After the first few hours of the trip, chainsmoking to stay awake, all the events became a bit hazy. However, I distinctly remember driving through the Rocky Mountains in that sickly grey just before dawn, surrounded by fog, listening to black metal at almost intolerably quiet volumes, and all nodding in agreement that there were going to be zombies coming out of the mist after us…. Any second now….
 

The time spent in Vancouver was admittedly a little dazed and confused (and to my recollection, involved a good deal of rum and Jagermeister), but we accomplished what we had set out to, and headed back home, even wearier than before. We took a wrong exit out of the city, and of course boys like Vance never drive with maps, so before long we found ourselves lost in the South Cariboo Mountains, driving through creepy boarded up town after creepy boarded up town. Not entirely sure why our great adventure was so continuously fraught with teen-horror-movie-esque circumstances, it ended up taking us an extra 5 or 6 hours (and 9 or 10 mild heartattacks) to make it back home, at which point none of us were in the state to do anything, and all of us had to go to work. 

The moral of the story is that making an album is a labour of love. And sometimes it will involve bizarre sleepless roadtrips to the coast and back, in constant imaginary danger.  Our only hope is that perhaps when you listen to the songs, that you can share in even a few of the hysterical laughs, bitter tears, and moments of sheer terror that we had while creating them. 

 

Yrs.,Jobi Mihajlovich

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