The Light Chamber

Some music from the soon to be released "LORD of the GOLDEN TOWER" and random video from the world of BOK.

Good morning, April.

How about an update.

“A doorway is forcefully opened, scraping the soot and dirt that piled up at its base. As they push their way open, a pattern of angel wings in the dirt appears on the floor, and light floods the chamber as though it hasn’t seen light in years. Something happened.”

Breakers II is coming along nicely. I often remind myself that I’m actually in the throes of those magic moments as we speak—when creation is at its finest moments. I’m in the surf, and some days it’s very rough and others are still calm. At the moment today, it’s overcast with rain on the way, but I’m just about ready to release my little “Lord of the Golden Tower.”

I love ideas that happen without thinking. For instance, you play an improvised piano piece into a recorder—a one take—without caring if it’s on the grid… and the first thing you sing without words, without preconceived ideas of this or that, and boom, there’s something magic there. Those are such great, great moments. I try to focus on those things rather than cleaning the yard every two minutes. As artists, can you wish for anything more than to create spontaneously and then actually be happy with what you created? I have no interest in daily posts or becoming a social media personality slave. I want to sing and create art.

As I was driving through the canyon the other day listening to some new mixes, something dawned on me: I’m on a mission to create the world where I’ll go in death. I think that’s what I’m ultimately doing. Why? Who the fuck knows the why. And let’s not be too dramatic about it—I simply have a desire to tell a story and to create a world… an endless world and place of my dreams. I understand that art doesn’t save the world, but it does give me some meaning, and I suppose I’ll take all that I can get.

The canyon is beautiful this spring, as the marine layer ghosts are back. It reminds me of Breakers I and the many moments I had during the creation of that record. I can always smell when it’s spring in the canyon. Nothing like a full moon in a spring canyon along the Pacific, or in BOK for that matter. Each song on Breakers I, for me, is connected to memories and visuals of my routines while creating it.

When I did “Master of Illusion,” for example, the house was still there on my mountain, and I purchased a kicker for my car to help me adjust mixes during my ride into Los Angeles. I recall sitting in the driveway, which faced my little rustic A-frame dwelling and the Santa Monica Mountains, listening to early mixes and setting up the kicker. That song was a great example of simply recording and not writing, as it came together so quickly—other than the “I can’t sleep at night” bridge, which was the final puzzle piece to that song and didn’t really exist until the last few mixes. For me, that was the most important brush stroke to that piece of music.

So here I am today doing it all again. I made a trip up to my old place last week—that old lot which has seen a few springs now since I’ve been gone—which is something I don’t do, as it’s still a bit painful to see and think about. It’s true I do now live as a ghost to some degree, and that’s OK. That’s life. It still looks like my old home—well, the earth anyway. It’s like it never happened. Strange. I sat in a spot Bella and I would sit often, and maybe she was there with me for a moment listening to the wind like she used to. Enough of that.

Regarding the new music, I still frequent the Pacific when I need words and reflection for the canvases I’m working on, and magically things appear out there beyond the breakers still. It’s become a place that continues to give me inspiration even though memories have left a galaxy or two by now. I know they are still there. It can still bring a tear to my eye if I leave this place and venture to them, so I try to be present as much as I can.

What I’m building will take a while, and a while I have. I was never built for three posts a day, but I have been training for the kind of build it will take to create a world of my dreams, and so far I’ve mapped some of it, with more to come. Breakers II will be important for me, and it will take everything I have to see it through—especially in this day and age with AI robots on our heels.

Regarding “Lord of the Golden Tower.” During this next season of my life, I’ve also been redoing a version of this song. It’s a full redo based on the original demo that was originally done with Scott Ramsay. I’m not much for redoing things, as I love the original versions of everything, but all I really did on that demo was the keys and vocals and some arrangement chops, so I wanted a full musical composition and score, so to say. I normally wouldn’t do something like this, but this was an exception based on the lyrical content for this track and the fact that it’s kept knocking at my chamber door.

“Who are you?” it would say while I slept.

I consider it a little precursor to Breakers II, and I think this will be the final blog before I release it and the video that goes along with it. It should paint a nice picture of where I’m heading, and it will be fun to look at while I’m crafting, creating, failing, cheering, fighting, and hopefully living through the rest of the delightful experience that I call Breakers II. How exciting.

Regarding this video clip. This was some music I scored for the end of the song. It’s unclear if I’ll be using it in the final mix, as I often overwrite when I’m tracking, but time will tell me in a mix along the Pacific if it should stay. I will say it sounds nice on its own, with some flashes and characters from the world I’m creating, and it carries a common melody which you’ll often hear through the tower.

Anyway, for those who still dream… let the water take you where it takes you… keep your feet up from hidden rock crevasses, and I hope you enjoy the scenery as you drift. Today is all that really matters.

Farewell out there—j

Almost forgot, you may notice I brought back the “Field Notes:” page as I’ve been building a lot of new “Old” things related to the original “Hadders” notes he took along the red river. I think you may also notice a paged called “BOK” appearing soon which will be somewhat of a video page dedicated to random graphics that I’m continually building for the “Diamonds Hadder” story. Think of it as a moving story book page. A reel from BOK. Eventually I see it being somewhat of a map with places and characters broken into subcategories based on the various chapters of the novel I'm working on.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/77466a_8f9a64cacd38482b89fc44cedc0cf417/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

Nine Canvases Beneath the Oaks

"Some things from my dreams."

I suppose it’s time for a little update at the start of 2026.

I’m in the process of recording the next Diamonds Hadder record, which means a lot of work, a lot of loud mixes, and frequent trips to the Pacific to ponder the meaning of life beyond the breakers. When it’s quiet, you can be sure I’m in the tower, candlelight flickering across my crazed look and wild eyes as I scream and wail something into the world that wasn’t there before—literally pouring the last blood from my veins into something that can live long after I’m dead and gone.

A twist here. A curve mid-band. A fader pull and a whisper pan. Sub or no sub. Or that thing that sang. Muted here but not there and… I do so love the little things.

I don’t know where to start, as my mind has been racing for weeks.

Breakers II and The Golden Tower:

As I begin this process of hanging eight new canvases around the yard here under the oaks, I also hung one canvas of the Golden Tower. It’s a song that was started in the middle of the first Breakers record. This canvas is deep and dark at times. I’m not sure if the track will be on Breakers II, but it will be a beautiful canvas when it’s done.

I only have some details left to paint and a few puzzle pieces that are bothering me, but I’m close to signing the tower. I actually finished an “unreleased” video on the demo version of this song, which is quite the visual. As soon as I have that special final mix day with all the puzzle pieces in place, I’ll release it on YouTube as a music video. Maybe it will find its way onto a B-side vinyl for the second Hadder record—we’ll see.

I miss the blank canvas of a fresh new song. So far, I have a few backgrounds on a few boards, but I’m leaving three of them completely blank for now because I love those first few brush strokes. I’m balancing my time between several pieces.

The Tower piece is in the key of C, which is a bit of a stretch for me. I love the sound of old music and standard tunings to some degree, as it sits with my tenor quite eloquently. But every canvas tells a story, I suppose, and this one is colored in dark and somber tones.

How about a little story?

My Lord:

I was auditioning guitarists for the first Breakers record while I was in the middle of tracking “Rivers End” in a rehearsal building in Vernon, CA, when I received an email with a few original tracks attached. As I often do, I answered the email while driving to the studio and started singing to the songs as they blasted in my truck on the 101 freeway.

One of the songs suddenly became “Lord of the Golden Tower,” as those were the first words that came out of me on that ride. I liked it so much that I decided to take a break from “Rivers End” and track the vocals that day.

And so, that’s how things like that happen.

Suddenly there was a song called “Lord of the Golden Tower,” partially written around the turmoil of my life and my search for who I was—or what I was supposed to do with this life. The only weapon I ever wanted to wield was my voice, and by now, on this long journey I’ve had, I suppose I can hold my own with any sword-wielding foe.

The music was only a demo at the time, and although I liked the vocals and the beginnings of the track, I knew it was really just the start. I finished it quickly for closure and moved on to completing the Breakers record. In the distance, it sat there… haunting me occasionally, asking, “What will you do with me? Who are you?”

Fast forward to late 2025, after the “Long Road” music video was behind me and I began the real process of the next chapter of Diamonds Hadder. The Tower track finally had a place to come through.

“I sailed away into the black, with open eyes to find… a reason worth the rhyme.”

I decided to redo all the music under my demo vocals and keys and revisit the arrangement, which meant seven-string guitars and a five-string bass. It’s been about two or three months now on this canvas, off and on, and it’s so close. Occasionally I take a break and stare at one of the other canvases for perspective.

Like everything I do, soon I’ll sign it and set it adrift in this vast ocean of noise we’re all swimming—or sinking—in.

“No distress was sent, no letter left, no somewhere end… no Jack or Jill, just a whisper that said…”

You know.

Noises in the dark.

Some thoughts.

This winter I upgraded the studio here under the oaks, doing my best to create a room where I could work faster. Lots of small upgrades aimed at shortening the distance between the start and end of the Breakers II creation. It’s working nicely so far.

It’s dark in me when I’m making a record. A lot of the things I struggle with show up in the Hadder songs. Somehow the characters of my never-ending novel—Hadder and his companions—trample through my day-to-day life.

My biggest adversary to date is time. I simply lack the time it takes to get it all out of me, and that’s disappointing to some degree. I watch ideas drift out my window, and although I try my best to catch them all, some great ones are gone—never to return, for whatever reason.

Life can be as beautiful as it is miserable. I like to focus on the front half, although I’m painfully aware of the other side.

I could go on and on, but let’s end it here. I have so much work to do.

Soon there will be a new Hadder song and video filled with love, passion, and color. I hope you like it. But more important than that, I hope that while you’re walking along a river one day—listening to her ripples and rocks, the wind blowing your hair across your face, all alone—gazing at the leaves as they flutter in the watery reflection… that in that moment, you’re reminded of who you are and what you are. That it gives you the strength to fight for something when all hope feels lost.

And if it inspires you to dream a little about places and things beyond the horizon we see… well, I suppose that would be nice too.

God bless, friends. Stay your own course.

—j

Three Batteries and some Skeletons Above the Seeds

"To the place, this coin delivered be just, where the sleepy narrows run, by a diamond prince and a dream master must. To the deep, returned, below the hidden fall, That giver be, forever granted, his evermore.”

“BEEP BEEP BEEP”… I awoke Saturday night at 2:00 a.m. to the sound of my CO₂ alarm going off as the house filled with carbon monoxide while I slept. Turns out, a cracked vent on the furnace under my house was the problem. I had just started using the furnace again after a long, hot summer. 185 ppm — for those who don’t know about CO₂ readings — is not exactly a cozy sleep, unless you’re not planning to wake up.

Once I cleared the house and checked on Lord Giggles and Lady Bug, I sat down to ponder the moment and check the batteries on the CO₂ alarm — three little AA batteries that I imagine were put in the unit just before I arrived back in the canyon. The year on the device said 2023. Around the time I was releasing the Breakers record, someone was putting these three batteries in this device — not knowing me, and not knowing that on some fateful night in 2025, they might save a life, and who knows, save the idea of a Breakers II record. Funny how life works… you just never really know when it’s all going to stop. I suppose that’s all the more reason to stop fucking around and do whatever the hell you want in this life — without apology.

While we’re on the topic of batteries — I have a thing for them. When I was living at 200 North, working on the Breakers record, I used 9-volt batteries in an iRig preamp that lived in my car. I’d use it to vocalize while driving an hour into L.A. every day for years. Those dead batteries accumulated into a pile, which I painted chrome and kept stacking in the loft above my studio on the east side of Los Angeles. I used that stack as motivation — I knew each battery represented about fifteen hours of vocalizing. I’ve always been this way… looking at the little things as they stack up, keeping quiet, and doing the work over long periods of time.

The morning after that carbon monoxide “almost-dead” adventure, I started to think about how things break down — my car driving into the city, the pavement, our relationships, my furnace, my voice. Half of everything is in a constant state of decay. Yet there’s another half of life that’s growing and expanding to some degree: a seed to a flower, a child to an adult. Even a dream grows if you decide to nurture it.

This is a pattern I see a lot here under the oaks. Just three weeks ago, my hillside was tall dead grass as autumn and winter had their way with my spring bloom. Then, about a week into winter, when all the spiders were done webbing my yard, the first big rains came — and two days later, my hill was a carpet of green. What might have looked dead was really just the skeletons above the seeds.

My mind wants to go to that dark place a lot — as though everything is in a state of decay, filled with loss and sadness. But it simply isn’t true. There’s always something hidden underneath what you see.

Anyway, just some deep thoughts today as I’m working on the next Hadder record. Breakers II will be something special — I know it. Before I release the next record, I’ll be putting out a new song with a music video attached.

Enjoy a little visual from what I’ve been working on.

BREAKERS II: The recording studio for breakers II, much like a painters studio, is littered with some new beautiful colors and tools for me to work with and I’ve been dreaming up something very special for the next chapter of this Hadder adventure. Three new batteries in the CO2 alarm and a few new lower strings, Oh my, what a life we live.

God bless you all.

– J