unrecorded raze there are things you erase without thinking and live long enough to regret throwing away. and then there are the things you don't record at all that you later find yourself wishing you'd set down on digital tape. like the last night you spent as the frontman of a poorly named band. after lying his way out of your life, your drummer thought he could dart back into the frame without missing a beat. you sat with your back to him for the first and only time and coaxed single coil slurs from a red guitar. you should have captured the death rattle of what you built together. hammered all your hurt into one last song and called it goodbye. instead, you acted like you'd forgotten how to play the five-stringed friend half_asleep on your lap. you waited until he set down his sticks and stepped outside for a smoke before cranking the gain as loud as it would go and playing like your life was on the line to let him know what he was about to lose. 250520 what's it to you? who go blather from