OXYGEN LAW - Interviews

AL: Please unveil to us the important details of your band's history. I believe you didn't begin right away your musical quest as Oxygen Law.

VE: Oxygen Law (O2L) was launched in 1999 when my first two bands, Quietus and Oradour-sur-Glane broke up. Like Oxygen Law, Quietus and Oradour were influenced by the original, ground-breaking Goth bands like (Rozz's) Christian Death, Xymox, Sisters of Mercy, Dead Can Dance, and This Mortal Coil, to name a few. That music is timeless and will live forever. The Quietus lineup was Jennifer Boyd on keyboards, Walker on bass (and occasional guitar), and myself on voice, additional keyboards, and drum programming. Jennifer had been classically trained in piano, and Walker, although only 14(!) at the time, kicked ass on bass. We played a Goth venue behind the "Orange Curtain," and were well-received, but that didn't help keep us together. Quietus broke up because we fought more than we made music. We can laugh about it now, but at the time, it was appalling. There's an enormous amount of work that goes into being in a band, and Quietus wasn't ready for that. If you're in a band, the band comes first, period. The tension with Quietus helped in writing the music, though; we worked well that way. When Quietus disbanded, I went totally solo with a bridge project called Oradour-sur-Glane. I was determined to carry on with or without a band. Oradour was a performance art project that incorporated extreme war video footage, keyboards, drum programming and vox in live performance, the subject matter being Man's inhumanity to Man—a concept which carried over, in a way, to Oxygen Law with the "Arbeit" and "Silver Striking Glass" projects. Oradour played a benefit concert in West Hollywood's Studio One, but I dismantled Oradour soon afterward, feeling that I needed to push myself in different musical/ideological directions. The official birth of Oxygen Law occurred in 2000 upon the release of the Arbeit CD.

AL: How has your music moved on or away from the unfortunate demise of your former groups, Quietus and Oradour-sur-Glane? What soundscapes do you now create in comparison?

VE: Quietus and Oradour-sur-Glane were, for the most part and for lack of a better term, carbon copies of Goth bands I grew up with. You can imitate what you love at first, of course, as long as you develop your own sound in the process. Quietus' lineup was the standard guitar, bass, keyboards, drums, and lead singer arrangement. When I launched Oxygen Law, I threw everything I knew to the winds and started absolutely from scratch. While terrifying at first, this initial act of annihilation eventually developed into something that I could totally call my own. It was very refreshing to discard the expected (and boring) "band" construct and concentrate more on composition. EJ says I'm more of a composer, than a musician. I agree. As human beings, we are always in a state of becoming, and as art imitates life, art is no exception. Quietus and Oradour had a more commercial, expected sound which ultimately spells stagnation, where Oxygen Law stands on its own as whatever it wants to be for any given song, or any given moment. Oxygen Law can explore the Neo-Classical, avant-garde, it can flirt with Industrial concepts, it can be harsh, melodic, sympathetic or nihilistic. If I want to do an entire song with violins, celli and choruses, I can with Oxygen Law without having to worry about, "oh, I can't do that because what's our bass player supposed to do," or, "that won't fly with the lead guitarist." With Oxygen Law, I can make music for music's sake, and not the band's sake. The soundscape for Oxygen Law has developed into something starker, colder, richer, uncompromising. The art tells me what it wants, and not the other way around.

AL: Where are you located and how healthy is the dark music scene in your area and are you a regular part of it? Where do you usually perform live? Any venues there that you can recommend to foreigners?

VE: I am bi-locational, living and creating music in a studio/house in the Southern California mountains, and periodically commute to Los Angeles. The entire house is literally the studio, with very little "living space" at all. It wasn't difficult for me to move from Los Angeles as the clubs are still very much there, but the scene has declined a bit since the 80s. I haven't been to a Goth club in 6 years. Basically, I've graduated from listening to music to writing it. Going to a club cannot compare to creating the material, that's all there is to it. The last Goth clubs I went to were Helter Skelter (the quintessential Goth club at the Stardust Ballroom in old Hollywood), Stigmata and Obituary. The best Goth clubs were in the most decrepit, scariest, most degenerate industrial sections of old Los Angeles, which only added to the underground, haunted, melancholic atmosphere of the Goth experience. Today's clubs are held in upscale bars and discos with trendy under-bar lighting, and it's simply not the same. In the 80s, the Punks and Goths lived the scene 24/7, it was their life; they created their own communities (east Hollywood and the surrounding environs), they created their own clothes from scratch, they had their own culture and art scene. Every Goth dresses for their own reasons, but for me, the clothes were/are a reflection of my sense of isolation and self-imposed exile from the bone-crushing "normalcy" and complacency of the world. And the last time I went to a club, you had to know the bands and you had to know the music. Today, the scene seems to be more about, what a friend of mine affectionately calls, secretaries in their underwear. Goth clubs are thriving, which is wonderful, but Goth is a lifestyle, it's about the music—not your $700 bondage outfit. —Oxygen Law is a studio band and does not play live, which is not to say that a band won't be formed for just that purpose. I'd love to do a live show with Oxygen Law, but it would have to be done right, with the proper planning, staging, visuals and sound system.

AL: Why did you choose "Oxygen Law" as your moniker? It sounds deceptively modern/futuristic. I really expected an up-to-date electronic outfit.

VE: The title "Oxygen Law" was taken from a Gary Numan lyric, which caught my attention. I also found "oxygen law" in a William S. Burroughs story. The sound of the two words together strikes a subliminal chord somewhere in the subconscious. "Oxygen Law" fit perfectly with what I had in mind for the look and sound of the project: sleek, black, shiny future-noir, like the film, Bladerunner.

AL: Let's expound more on the lyrical content. What are your songs mostly about? Don't forget to namedrop other lyricists as well that you admire.

VE: Most of my songs are about isolation. That pretty much sums it up. I grew up very alone. I don't say this for sympathy, it's just a fact. I was left pretty much to my own devices, which meant I had to grow up pretty fast or become a victim of life, which I almost did. As a child, I turned to books for knowledge and for companionship. Authors like Poe, Lovecraft, Baudelaire and the Brontës became my family. A friend once joked that it was funny how the only human beings I could relate to were dead people writing about death. It was as if these authors could see right into my soul and knew exactly what I was feeling. Then again, if you read their biographies, they were all profoundly acquainted with isolation. Being essentially alone forced me to be self-reliant. When you're on the outside looking in, you have more information. But the sense of isolation is sometimes overwhelming, and it comes out in the writing process. I have kind of a hard time relating to other people. I'm really only happy while creating. Lyricists I admire are Rozz Williams of Christian Death, (a modern day Baudelaire), Ronny Moorings of Xymox, Peter Murphy (Bauhaus), Gary Numan, Kate Bush and Laurie Anderson. —Although not at all Gothic, Laurie Anderson has influenced me musically in ways I cannot even begin to imagine. United States I-IV floored me; it should be required listening for music students. Numan's lyrics have always been deep and emotionally moving, poignant and immediate—he certainly is no stranger to isolation. All of the above-mentioned songwriters are underrated, but the true greats always are.

AL: What about the instruments that you use, have they changed radically?

VE: I started out on analog equipment, moved to digital keyboards, and then moved slowly to soft synths. I have a love/hate relationship with soft synths—they're wonderful, but you can't get your hands on them. I like to turn knobs and play with sliders. On the other hand, soft synths are great because they're 100% digital, you can save patches easily, and they can be called up in a split second. We also use a smattering of analog and hardware digital keyboards and drum machines. I have an original LinnDrum (Midi-ized in 2001). Alex Senicki, of course, brings in the classical acoustics with his violins, viola, and contra bass. We're also becoming very sample-driven. I have a love/hate relationship with samples, as well. Samples tend to be grainy and need tons of EQ; and worse, sometimes they're not looped properly. Nothing beats a real live musician playing the parts, anyway. EJ's grand piano is featured prominently on "Intermezzo" and "Song of Nations [2]." The equipment is merely a means to an end. Computers don't make music. People do.

AL: You have a knack for the classical masters and their antiquated works, and their collective influences on you seem to be very pronounced. How were you able to cultivate your ability to play symphonic pieces as in the case of your contributions to film soundtracks?

VE: EJ asked that very question. I don't know where I get the ability to write neo-classical music. I am not classically trained—I don't know how to read or write music notation. I wish I did. As a child, I was acutely aware of movie and television scores. I was 7 years old when I first heard the soundtrack to 2001: A Space Odyssey, and I totally freaked. Up until that point, commercial radio had been my only exposure to music, and the 2001 soundtrack (especially Strauss' Thus Spake Zarathustra), absolutely blew my mind. I had no idea music could be so powerful or so valid. I listened to the 2001 soundtrack over and over again, and even brought it to school for show and tell in the 3rd grade(!). The other kids in class hated it. I was appalled that they couldn't see past what the system shoved down their throats. Then as a teen, sprinkled among the Punk and New Wave, I started listening to Classical radio. Then I discovered Gothic music where the spectrum spans from Punk (Sex Gang Children, Christian Death) to Neo-Classical (Dead Can Dance, Xymox, This Mortal Coil), and I was right at home. The main thing reviewers say about Oxygen Law is that the music sounds "filmic"—that it belongs in film. While that's awesome to hear, writing "filmic" music was never my intention, it just happens to come out that way. EJ says my music tells a story and evokes a mental picture—and that is exactly what I am trying to do when writing music, to take the listeners to a place they've never been before. The director for The Boles Murders film heard my two discs (Arbeit and Le Vestibule) and asked me to do the score for his film.

AL: The aural identity of your music is conceived from a gothic-industrial marriage tinged with neutral-tempo ambient electronic layers all working as one to highlight voice work that's rather delicate and mysterious. Do you plan to explore other arenas and flirt with lighter and more upbeat Electro for example?

VE: It seems lately that any time I look toward Oxygen Law, I get pulled away to do a different project. Immediately following Le Vestibule, I was going to do another orchestral-based Oxygen Law project called Blitzkreig-Londontown, a non-stop 30+ minute suite that just keeps developing and moving. I wrote some extensive roughs for it, but got called off to do The Boles Murders soundtrack. Then the plan was to do Blitz immediately after The Boles Murders, but Biomechanic, an Electro Dance project I'd been working on concurrent to O2L, reared its ugly head. Dana Sol has signed on to do the lead vocals for Biomechanic. Biomechanic is now taking up 100% of my time.

AL: You seem to really acknowledge EJ Emmons' achievements as your producer/recording engineer. How has he changed your musicality and your outlook on the music industry as an artist?

VE: In 1998, I was recording some material for Oradour-sur-Glane at Paramount Recording Studios in Hollywood, when EJ walked in on the session. We started talking, and he asked for a demo tape. The demo was coated with layers of grime and had been recorded on an old Tascam PortaStudio with broken meters. I was very embarrassed about the tape, but he didn't care; it was the music he wanted to hear. The first song that caught EJ's attention was a very rudimentary version of "Arbeit Macht Frei." EJ said that my main strengths in music lie in melody and the creation of mood and atmosphere—that atmosphere is everything—and that my stuff tends to tell a story. He chose "Arbeit Macht Frei" to produce, to test the waters as it were, and wanted me to expand the song. "Arbeit" initially had lyrics, but that idea was scratched, as the piece really wants to be an instrumental. EJ prompted me to develop the more neo-classical side of my sound and to not pander to any particular "scene." EJ was spot-on. Reviewers uniformly agree that Oxygen Law has a very filmic sound. So now, I go into each project conceptually blind and let the project tell me what it wants musically. It's terrifying going into the studio with a blank slate, but that's where and how the ideas develop. The Boles Murders was done exactly like that—I went in totally blank and let the project tell me what it wanted. EJ taught me that the music business is just that—a business. It's all fine and good to throw on the black patent leather pants, the makeup, etcetera, but being in the business is not about playing dress up. The final analysis is, can you sell this product or not, can you write music, that's what the industry is mainly interested in. No matter how uncommercial a band claims to be, they're still interested in selling CDs, or they're not going to be able to make a living. I was raised in the Underground and on the avant-garde, but I've still got to pay attention to the business side of things and the money issue. Being in a band is hard work—it's work that we love—but it is work—and for money. Additionally, if you have a music project that's on a strict deadline, you better get the job done or you're going to lose the gig. The Boles Murders soundtrack was done under a wicked deadline.

AL: It would be unfair not to mention Alex Senicki, tell us about him and his contributions to O2L.

VE: Alex Senicki, aside from being one of the nicest and coolest people I've ever known, is Oxygen Law's electric and acoustic violinist, cellist and contra bassist. He was in a band called Yes No Maybe, which garnered a lot of media attention when they played out the back of a moving van in the middle of an intersection in San Francisco, totally blocking traffic. They even rigged up a makeshift radio transmitter and transmitted the music on an obscure channel that went out about 2 or 3 miles. Yes No Maybe's sound was very Bryan Ferry, Eno-esque, very nice. Anyway, the police arrested them on the spot which only served to get them tons of publicity, which was of course exactly their plan. I love that kind of guerrilla tactic, the complete circumventing of the system's bureaucracy in order to get exposure. Alex's work transforms every Oxygen Law song he plays on. He is concurrently working on a solo album and EJ is mixing the tracks. There's some great stuff there, and I wish him the best.

AL: Who is Su Tissue by the way? Is she a member of O2L or an artist of her own that you happen to adore or appreciate?

VE: Su Tissue was the lead singer for the Suburban Lawns, a very influential New Wave/Punk band that EJ produced and recorded in the 80s. (Actually, she wasn't the lead singer, but should have been). Su also did a solo album of piano works which EJ mixed and mastered, called Salon de Musique. Su's voice was hauntingly rich, eerie, scathingly hot and freezing cold, all at the same time; there will never be another like her. Su is very shy and soft-spoken, which is in complete contrast to her high-energy onstage persona. She is not a member of O2L. She's a major influence. I asked her if she would be interested in collaborating on some projects when she vacationed with EJ in 1999, but she politely declined. She's very happy raising her child and living her life. (Su appears as Peggy Dillman in Jonathan Demme's film, Something Wild. Demme also shot the Suburban Lawns video for Gidget Goes to Hell, which aired on Saturday Night Live).

AL: "Le Vestibule" is a dark and brooding collection of songs that doesn't quite follow the norms of music-making. It's a hybrid of artistic instrumentals, rich sonic textures and emotional vocals wrapped in a single package. The most interesting aspect of this release is your complete disregard for time. "Le Vestibule" (7:25), "Eleventh Hour" (8:09) and "Lamentations in a Churchyard" (9.34) are all over six minutes.

VE: Thanks so much, those are really cool comments. The average song length for Oxygen Law is 7+ minutes. A lot of my music is neo-classically-oriented, and in such a format the song can't really say everything it needs to in 3 minutes. It takes time to develop atmosphere and to sustain it. "Lamentations" takes 2 1/2 minutes to develop, but the intro sets the stage and mood for the song. I believe that music should be experienced, rather than listened to.

AL: "Shuttered Room" reeks of sheer talent. I appreciate the blending and mixing of the vocals. How did you fuse all the auditory elements to perfect this body of work?

VE: Thanks so much for those wonderful comments. Conceptually, I visualized "Shuttered Room" as an audio representation of someone or some thing that has spent its entire existence locked up in an attic, with only the smallest, dirt-encrusted dormer windows from which to gaze out upon the world. Lacking any way of expressing itself in any language, this being, in its relentless isolation, sits for hours muttering, whining and shrieking, just to hear something—anything—in order to dispel the unutterable darkness in which it exists. —I knew exactly what I wanted, mix-wise, with "Shuttered Room," (something along the lines of the sound effects in The Exorcist) but it was such an amorphous concept that it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to accurately convey all the essential ideas to EJ. The sound effects for The Exorcist are some of the best ever created in the industry. It really sounds like multi-lingual, unisex spirits are raging inside of this little girl, and that's kind of what "SR" wanted, that kind of otherworldly, extra-dimensional feel. There were 7 tracks in the project, all setup, treated and mixed in Cool Edit Pro (now Adobe Audition). Some tracks were cut up, reversed and flanged, with some reverb, and played along with the normal tracks. Each track was basically an individual 6 minute performance, so I tried to keep that performance feel intact in the final mix. "SR" took 3 days to record (I was hoarse for a while afterwards) and 5 days to mix. Diamanda Galás' work was also very much an inspiration for "SR." I don't have anywhere near the vocal range or the control of my voice that she has, so it was an experiment in sound and performance all the way around. Most everything I'd done up to "SR" had been music, so I wanted to do a piece that was 100% voice. "SR" was another limit to push against, another boundary to break through.

AL: "Eleventh Hour" has a club atmosphere, perfect for those sensitive listeners just surrendering to its cold comfort. It even lulls the mind, but what impresses me is how your voice shifts from low to high, which gives that melodic character. How do you come up with a melody when you're composing songs?

VE: Again, thank you for the cool comments. Melody is everything. Earlier, I said that atmosphere is everything, but the atmosphere is derived from the melody—no melody, no song; no song, no music. When I sit down to write a song, I go through the synths and pick sounds that strike me in a certain way, and once that's done, the writing process has automatically begun. The sound evokes an emotional response, the emotional response evokes a melodic suggestion, that suggestion induces improvisation, improv creates a mental/visual landscape, and out of hours of improv and visual imagery comes a song—or the rudimentary beginnings of a song. Vocal melody is different than song melody. I listen to a song over and over again, and then (hopefully) a counter vocal melody develops. In "Eleventh Hour," the vocal melody carries the entire song (rare for me), while the music serves as a solid backdrop for the vocals. In "Lamentations," the music very much carries the song. There are 3 distinct parts and the vocals directly follow and writhe around the 3rd section's dark Middle Eastern riffs. EJ layered my voice 35 times (it took 3 days to record the tracks) in order to create the monastery-like chorus for "Lamentations."

AL: Tell us about your recent inclusion in the motion picture, "The Boles Murders".

VE: The producer and director of The Boles Murders heard my two previous Oxygen Law discs, "Arbeit" and "Le Vestibule," and hired me to do the music for the movie. He and EJ knew each other from a theatre project they worked on together a couple of years previously. The irony is, all throughout O2L, I kept getting the message, subversive as it was, that I should perhaps do something more commercial, more radio-playable. The fact of the matter is, if I'd followed that line of thinking and watered my stuff down, or did Pop, I wouldn't have gotten a film score. —Moral of the story: do what you love, what you know, and don't let anyone deflect you from your path.

AL: Are you satisfied with Oxygen Law alone or you're eyeing a few side projects at this very moment? If by chance you are, don't hesitate to give us an insight.

VE: Doing only one kind of music (or one kind of anything) equals stagnation. For example, The Rolling Stones have gone 30+ years doing the exact same kind of music—which is unimaginable to me. In a way, their extreme commercial success has been a kind of failure. Oxygen Law covers the dark, brooding, Gothic side of my nature, but there are infinitely more facets to my psychological/creative framework. Another project I'm currently working on is an Electro Dance project called, Biomechanic, with Dana Sol on lead vocals. Biomechanic combines elements of Electro, Jazz and Dark Cabaret. Biomechanic is currently taking up 100% of my time. There are 2 other musique noir projects of mine seething in the wings—Rotwang (musique concrete) and Isotta-Fraschini (music from 1899-1949 for tomorrow)—but we'll leave them to the future.

AL: I'm afraid you have outdone yourself, after mentioning those numerous unique projects. Do you totally devote and live off your life to music? What do you do outside of O2L?

VE: There are a lot of projects, but that's the way it should be. I can't just do one kind of anything. What I make off of Oxygen Law is basically enough to pay the utility bills but The Boles Murders film score will bring in substantially more. Outside of O2L, I do 3ds max, video editing and effects for money, at this time. Film score is definitely an area I would like to explore more fully. Tom O'Neil, the storyboarder for Alias (TV), is considering me to do the score for a film of his which he is now in the process of editing. It's a horror film, which is perfect.

AL: You founded QUIETUS, a gothic literary magazine. Is it still in production? What about the areas of distribution?

VE: Initially, I started out as a writer, and that had been my main focus through life until around 1997 when I decided to dedicate all of my time to music. I was an English Major in college. I had been published in science fiction, fantasy and horror magazines, and had even written a children's picture book, but it was taking too long to get established in that arena, so I turned to music. I'd been playing the piano since the age of 4. Music has always been a major part of my life, concurrent to writing. Music is far more "immediate," for lack of a better term. My thinking was that it's far easier to give someone a CD of my music and to get a yes or no on the content than it is to send off a short story and wait sometimes up to a year for a response. Well, that reasoning turned out to be true—to an extent, at least. I switched to doing music full time, met EJ, who liked my work, and the rest is history.

As time went on, though, I got the itch to do something in the literary field again, so I started Quietus Magazine (named after my first band). The first issue of Quietus was dedicated to Rozz Williams, and was launched on April 1 in honor of the anniversary of his suicide. Quietus published Gothic Horror stories and poetry written in the manner and tradition of the Masters of Gothic Literature: H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, The Brontës, Baudelaire and so on—the real stuff. I wanted to create a venue for serious writers of Gothic horror in which they could see their stories in print. There's plenty of crap out there, especially in the Gothic/Horror genre. I loved doing Quietus, and would still be doing it, but the music took over. Two contributing Quietus writers offered to give us money in order to keep Quietus going—they believed in the magazine that much—but we had to respectfully decline. I would like them to know that we are eternally grateful for their kind offer, they cannot know what that meant to us. Closing down Quietus was like cutting off one of my arms; it was not a frivolous or casual decision. We just didn't have the time to continue the project. Quietus saw 3 successful issues and we remain very proud of them. Quietus Magazine is no longer accepting submissions, but all three issues are still available. Quietus Gothic Literary Magazine.

AL: You are among a few people out there whose lives are always somehow fixed on the dark side. Enumerate your favorite horror movies, and did your fondness for soundtracks emanate from them?

VE: Some of my favorite horror movies are The Exorcist, Silence of the Lambs, Night of the Living Dead (and all sequels), Alien, Poltergeist, Halloween (the first 3 only), The Thing (Carpenter's), The Fog (Carpenter's), Hellraiser (I and II only), Nosferatu (Max Schreck rules), Dracula (Lugosi is perfection), Phantom of the Opera (Chaney is beyond real), The Shining (there is only Kubrick's), Children of the Damned (the original and Carpenter's), Psycho (there is only Hitchcock's), and although it's a TV series, the original Outer Limits (1960s).

My fondness for movie soundtracks stems from many different kinds of films, not just horror: Bladerunner (Vangelis), 2001: A Space Odyssey (especially Thus Spake Zarathustra, Richard Strauss), Close Encounters of the Third Kind (John Williams), Jerry Goldsmith, in general, James Bond films circa 1960s-1970s (John Barry), Silence of the Lambs (Howard Shore), Halloween (John Carpenter), The Thing (John Carpenter), Prophecy (Leonard Rosenman—one of the finest, and underrated, film scores ever written), The Outer Limits TV series, 1960s (Dominic Frontiere—gorgeous in every respect, and is probably the first time I noticed music in film/tv). There are many more film music influences, too many to list here. My favorite horror movie of all time would have to be The Exorcist—the original version, not the so-called director's cut. "Tubular Bells" (Mike Oldfield) took me out the first time I heard it, and has become synonymous with The Exorcist. There's a nod or two on The Boles soundtrack to "Tubular Bells" in tracks like "August Rain" and "Hour of Long Shadows."

AL: You have a yearning to return to the nostalgic route of Goth music at its purest form, after doing other experimental works for a period of time. What inspires you to do just that?

VE: My roots are in Goth; that's where I come from, that's where I am, that's where I'll always be. Ever since I was a child, I've always been attracted to the darker, more mysterious side of art, music, film, and life in general. While it's good to experiment and "come out of one's self" every once in a while, it's always good to return to what one knows best and what one feels most comfortable with. As stated above, I would love to do Blitzkreig-Londontown with Oxygen Law, but Biomechanic is the main project at this time.

AL: What's your typical day in the studio? How long do you work on the O2L albums?

VE: A typical day in the studio is about 4-5 hours; anything over and above that exhausts my batteries. The consumption of mass quantities of coffee usually accompanies time in the studio as well. "Arbeit" and "Le Vestibule" took 2 years to complete, respectively. At the time we did those two CDs, the 100% digital systems were still pretty cutting edge. EJ's studio has been 100% digital since 1997. Most of "Arbeit" and "Le Vestibule" were written late at night, like around 11PM-3AM; that was kind of the mind state I was in at that time. In contrast, The Boles Murders soundtrack was done collectively in about 1 1/2 months, but there was a major deadline. TBM was mostly written in the daytime. I kind of "found" myself musically with The Boles soundtrack. I had all the time in the world to do the first two O2L CDs, but the Boles schedule was so rigorous, it allowed no time for the luxury of writer's block. It was very much a trial-by-fire situation. I found out I work best under pressure; I actually prefer to work under pressure. There was very little remixing and remastering of TBM soundtrack—comparatively, at any rate. Only a few Boles songs gave trouble. "Arbeit" and "Le Vestibule" took forever to mix and master, and that was mostly due to my naiveté and indecision. I don't know how EJ put up with me. I was such a novice pain in the ass. I had no idea how much work goes into making an album; watching EJ in his natural environment in the studio completely changed my view on what a true engineer's responsibilities are. I've learned so much working with him. The record-making process is infinitely intricate, infinitely demanding, extremely time consuming and detail-oriented, and as equally rewarding. It takes 10 years to make a true audio engineer, no exaggeration.

AL: What is your final message? Thank you and more power to O2L!

VE: I would just like to thank you very much for the opportunity to do this interview. It was an awesome experience, and I enjoyed it very much. It's dedicated people like you with a genuine love for genuine music that keeps the music alive. Thanks again, Gerard, and more power to AbortedLife. All the best. Stay Dark.