The record was done and I invited close friends to crowd into the control room of a hidden Venice Beach recording studio to read these stories out loud with me and to listen to the music, newly mastered. Maura read the introduction to her song and that was a highlight. After the last tune ended, we all moved into the tracking room to cut Nothing live. With no isolation, the players were set to bleed hopelessly into each other's microphones, while my friends hung around in the same room with us, drinking beer and talking, without realizing it, into those same mics. I didn’t try to stop them. The band hadn’t heard the song before we set up and AG was sure we wouldn’t get anything useable. It was just how I wanted the making of this record to end: in a moment, surrounded by love, playing out of my head, only for the joy of it, at last. There were some additions to the band for this track: Gabriel Mann jumped on piano, and my wife Dana is singing background vocals with Kyler England and Alfa Garcia. This song began when I misheard a lyric coming over ceiling speakers in a toy store. And what felt like an exercise in craft when I was writing it turned out to be a heavy song for me. Dewey, the engineer, emailed us the stems we recorded late the night of the session. Nothing’s journey onto this record began a few days later when AG texted me: "Dude that snare sounds so good. Let me see what's what."