Everything we've recorded fits on one shelf. Pull a tape out to listen, then dig into it: who's playing, where it came from, how it sounded on other nights.
Small rooms are harder than big ones. You can see every face, and every face can see your left hand. Some notes after the October gig.
Half of the band's lyrics started in the margin of a meeting. The other half started on the bus.
Shaky phone footage from the third row, with the bar chatter left in. I've stopped wanting anything cleaner.
Short version: record yourself, listen once, never again.