In contrast to her new solo album, the music of Screaming Females—especially live—brings the bristling energy and punk/riot grrrl roots of Paternoster to the fore.
The Screaming Females guitarist delves into haunting acoustic/electronic songwriting on her solo album Peace Meter, expanding her sonic palette and typically raging approach—but not without the help of her musical community.
Before she released seven full-length albums with her punk band Screaming Females, another four under her solo moniker Noun, and was listed as one of SPIN’s “100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time,” singer/songwriter Marissa Paternoster didn’t have much hope for musical success.
“I spent a lot, if not all, of my teenage years being very afraid,” she shares. “I thought because of my gender, and then knowing full well that I was gay, that those things were going to keep me from ever being in a band or just being happy. I felt trapped.”
But the all-consuming urge to play guitar and be in a band kept her going. She absorbed every Smashing Pumpkins riff possible at her childhood home in New Brunswick, New Jersey, and then discovered the anarchic punk women of the ’90s riot grrrl scene—which changed everything. She thought, “They exist, they’re out there. Maybe there is this little, tiny chance that I can find those people too.”
Marissa Paternoster - Peace Meter [FULL ALBUM STREAM]
Today, Paternoster has long since found her niche, her people, and her voice. This past December she released Peace Meter, her first album under her own name, co-produced by Andy Gibbs (of Thou) and featuring Shanna Polley (leader of Snakeskin) on background vocals and Kate Wakefield (of the duo Lung) on cello. She says it might as well be a continuation of Noun, and that the main reason that it’s under her name is because it’s more searchable, she laughs, but it does seem like a benchmark in her career. The concise, 31-minute, nine-track album is inexplicably new. It’s subtly supernatural, with Paternoster’s haunting vocals carrying through an acoustic/electronic folk realm, articulating an unfamiliar yet comforting sense of calm.
The project was conceived at the beginning of the pandemic when Paternoster found herself alone in her deceased grandmother’s home and began crafting and sharing her work with Gibbs remotely. In the beginning, she wasn’t sure it was going to become anything, but the more the two collaborated, the more she saw it going somewhere. Maybe it’s the quality of her voice, or maybe it’s the delay effects, or the ineffable chemistry between Paternoster, Gibbs, Polley, and Wakefield, but Peace Meter somehow fills a void none of us knew existed.
“I thought because of my gender, and then knowing full well that I was gay, that those things were going to keep me from ever being in a band or just being happy. I felt trapped.”
In March 2020, Screaming Females was nearly at the end of their tour with Canadian rock band PUP when the rise of the pandemic forced them to cancel their final dates in California. The group then drove their rental gear back to Los Angeles from Eugene, Oregon, and flew home—with Paternoster heading to her grandmother’s house in Union, New Jersey, to be close to her father.
She immediately set up her recording gear in the basement and began making music “like I had done for my whole life,” she says. All she had with her was her Screaming Females gear and a Taylor GS Mini that was at the house. This small-bodied acoustic can be heard on the album as part of the colorful mix of real and virtual instruments underpinning her chocolatey, melismatic voice.
Marissa Paternoster's Gear
Marissa Paternoster hovers over her pedalboard with her main axe: a G&L S-500 that’s her electric workhorse. It played counterpoint to her Taylor GS Mini on Peace Meter.
Guitars
- G&L S-500
- Taylor GS Mini
Strings & Picks
- GHS strings (.009–.042)
- Dunlop Heavy Sharps
Amps
- Sunn Concert Lead
Effects
- Fulltone OCD
- Earthbound Audio Supercollider
- Klon Centaur clone
- Boss DD-6 Digital Delay
- Boss Chromatic Tuner
- TC Electronic Flashback Delay
After putting some rough ideas together, Paternoster sent a draft of “Promises”—which ended up being the last track on the album—to Gibbs, a long-time friend, and asked if he could add some electronic drums to it. (Outside of Thou, Gibbs has a serious interest in electronic production.) “I didn’t have any expectations,” she says, “but what he sent back was really beautiful. I was like, ‘Should we do more? Was this fun for you?’ And he said, ‘Yeah, let’s do more.’”
Paternoster says that the album’s production was basically a 50/50 split between her and Gibbs. He took the originally morose, down-tempo “I Lost You” and infused it with a happier, up-tempo beat—it’s the track Paternoster says she’s most proud of from the collection. Throughout the project, “he would even manipulate the vocals. He used them as an instrument that he could add modulation to, which added texture to the songs.” The weird, Cocteau Twins kind of blurred line between analog and electronic instrumentation, she says, was mostly a product of Gibbs’ influence.
“I never felt confused about what I wanted to do with my life until I discovered punk. Then I wanted to be in a band so bad I thought that if I wasn’t in a band I would die.”
Paternoster enjoys effects—a lot of them—to the point where she’s had to limit her options just to prevent herself from going overboard. “If it were up to me, there’d be phaser on everything, and that’s not good,” she laughs. “As I’ve grown as a musician, I’ve removed a lot of flangers and phasers and octave pedals from my board. Now it’s just gain-staging and a delay pedal and that’s it.”
One piece of gear that ended up being central to the album’s guitar sounds was her TC Electronic Flashback Delay pedal. “I do really like this crystal delay function that it has,” she elaborates. “It has a nice little whistle tone as the delay trails off. It’s very dreamy. You can hear that a lot on the record.”
Marissa Paternoster: “My Secret Weapon Is My Unrelenting Anxiety!”
When asked if Peace Meter is a result of Paternoster’s personal evolution as a songwriter, she shares that the real change in her life has been that she now has access to a broad network of friends, contemporaries, and peers whom she admires, and who want to work with her. “I never had that before,” she comments. She hates having the album under her name, because she says she needs other people to make music—and the project gave her the opportunity to reach out to them.
Paternoster has always felt that art was her calling, even when she was just a child who loved to draw. “There was no question in my mind that someday I was going to be an artist,” she expresses. But that aspiration shifted when she entered her teenage years and found music. “I never felt confused about what I wanted to do with my life until I discovered punk. Then I wanted to be in a band so bad I thought that if I wasn’t in a band I would die.”
TIDBIT: Paternoster’s new album is a classic Covid project—recorded remotely and crafted via file sharing. However, thanks to her haunting vocals, a wide sonic palette, and her emotional songwriting, it’s far from standard fare.
While riot grrrl taught her that she was capable of being a punk rocker, she says that the biggest influence on her guitar playing was undoubtedly Billy Corgan. Smashing Pumpkins’ Siamese Dream is still her favorite album, and it was that type of music that she used to teach herself to play when she was in high school—alongside the songs of bands like Bratmobile and Bikini Kill. Though technically demanding guitar solos didn’t exactly fit her tastes, she did feel as though she needed to learn how to improvise, despite being a songwriter at heart.
“In the early ’00s, most of my peers who played music were men,” she shares. “And I thought that if I could rip a solo in a way that would impress these young boys, they might let me play in their band. But my focus has always been on songwriting, making interesting sounds, creating engaging art, and not really on shredding or whatever. I really don’t care about that at all.”
Rig Rundown - Screaming Females
When describing why she makes music, Paternoster delves into the topic of mental health. She lives with anxiety and depression, and, as she puts it, has had frank and open discussions about her mental well-being since she started going to therapy at age 14. “[For me, making art and music is mostly] born out of the compulsion to quell my anxiety in some way. And it’s been that way ever since I was very, very small. It was my coping mechanism for everything and anything.” She continues, “Your mental health affects your body, it affects you, and it affects absolutely everyone around you. It’s important to take care of yourself because in turn you take care of everyone around you.”
“My focus has always been on songwriting. Songwriting, making interesting sounds, creating engaging art, and not really on shredding or whatever. I really don’t care about that at all.”
Paternoster brings that self-awareness to all aspects of her life, including collaborating with fellow musicians. Working with others comes naturally to her, as she’s been doing it essentially from the beginning, but she does confess to having some shortcomings when it comes to bandleading. “I have a tendency to be a bit bossy when it comes to logistics,” she says. “I don’t want to let that intensity go, but I also don’t want to waste time worrying. You have to leave some things to the chaos that is our reality.
In her room: Paternoster created the bones of her new album alone, in the home of her late grandmother. Then she shared the files with co-producer Andy Gibbs and her other collaborators, vocalist and Snakeskin leader Shanna Polley and cellist Kate Wakefield.
“To be honest, I never really wanted to have full control,” she admits. “There is a lot to be said about relinquishing some aspects of creative control to people that you trust and admire. When you trust people who you know already do good work, they’re probably going to show up and do good work.”
Aside from being motivated by anxiety and compulsion, Paternoster describes how she often finds inspiration in silly simplicity. “I’m a big fan of like, general tomfoolery,” she comments, telling a story about how she’d seen two separate giant carrots graffitied on buildings in Providence, Rhode Island, where she’s been staying. It gave rise to a lot of questions. “What happened that night? Why did they paint the carrots so big? Why have they never done it again? Who are they, where are they, can we hang out?” she says, laughing.
That playful spirit ties into a sense of humility both about herself and her musicianship. She reflects on the one music theory course she took in college, during which she “mostly took naps,” and the pros and cons of being self-taught. “I mean, at age 35 I still am often like, ‘Man, I wish I could take guitar lessons or singing lessons.’ I think that would be really fun, but I only have so many hours in the day.”In the meantime, she feels that sticking with music might be a good idea. “This is my comfort zone … and other people tell me that I do this well, so I think I ought to do it more.”
LAVA Broken Roof Sessions: Marissa Paternoster (Screaming Females/Noun)
Around the time she was working on Peace Meter, Marissa Paternoster climbed atop a West Philly roof to record this intimate acoustic performance featuring several of the album’s songs. Be sure to catch a glimpse of her DIY guitar strap.
- Rig Rundown: Screaming Females - Premier Guitar ›
- Marissa Paternoster: “My Secret Weapon Is My Unrelenting Anxiety ... ›
- Robot Killers: Screaming Females' Marissa Paternoster and “King ... ›
- Laura Jane Grace’s Folk-Punk Acoustic Journey ›
- Saying Goodbye to Los Angeles Punks X - Premier Guitar ›
With ultra-lightweight construction, slim neck profiles, and a quick-swap pickguard system, Venus Revolution guitars provide tonal versatility and personalized flair.
Venus Guitars, a bold new name in the music world, has officially launched with a mission to empower female musicians with thoughtfully crafted gear designed specifically for them. Driven by the belief that every player deserves an instrument that fits, inspires, and elevates them, Venus Guitars is setting a new standard for inclusivity and performance in the music community.
At the heart of the Venus Guitars launch are the three distinct Venus Revolution guitar models, each thoughtfully designed to cater to a range of players and budgets while maintaining the brand's core ethos of comfort, customization, and quality:
Venus Revolution: Perfect for players seeking an accessible yet high-performing instrument, this model sports the innovative Quick-swap pickguard system and ergonomic hourglass design that define the Venus Revolution series. Weighing just 5.5 pounds, Venus Revolution offers a lightweight white jabon body, slim roasted maple neck, and rosewood fingerboard, plus dual humbuckers with coil-splitting for tonal versatility. Priced at $899
Venus Revolution Elite – Blue Morpho: Expertly crafted in the USA, this high-end model boasts a roasted basswood body, a figured roasted maple neck, and a royal black fingerboard for enhanced resonance and stability, and weighs less than 6.5 lbs. Its shimmering color-shifting blue finish and Quick-swap customizable pickguards ensure it stands out on any stage. DiMarzio Air Classic pickups deliver a rich, dynamic tone, while the Sophia 2-22 Deluxe Trem ensures smooth, expressive playability, and the proprietary bolt-on mounting system enhances sustain. Priced starting at $2799
Venus Revolution Elite – Dark Roast: Another USA-crafted masterpiece, the Dark Roast model features a roasted basswood body, a figured roasted maple neck, and a royal black fingerboard, also weighing less than 6.5 lbs. DiMarzio PAF 36th Anniversary pickups provide vintage-inspired tones, while the the Hipshot US Contour Trem ensures smooth, precise vibrato control. Its rich woodgrain finish offers timeless elegance and dynamic tonal flexibility for players who value simplicity and sophistication. Priced starting at $2799
Venus Revolution guitars are designed with innovation and inclusivity at their core. Here’s what makes them unique:
- Ultra-Lightweight Construction: At around 6 pounds, these guitars are designed for maximum comfort without sacrificing tone or durability.
- Slim Neck Profile: Crafted with smaller hands in mind, the slim roasted 24" scale maple necks ensure smooth and effortless playability.
- Quick-Swap Pickguard System: Customize your guitar’s look in seconds by changing the shape or color of the pickguard—no tools required.
- Tonal Versatility: High-quality pickups deliver a wide range of tones, from warm cleans to beefy, powerful overdrive.
- Personalized Flair: Optional medallions and unique finishes allow players to make their Venus Revolution truly their own.
"The Venus Revolution isn’t just a guitar—it’s a statement,” shares Christine Taunton, Product Specialist and spokesperson for Venus Guitars. “It’s an instrument that reflects who you are as an artist and a player. Venus isn’t just about filling a gap—it’s about creating instruments that make women feel powerful, seen, and unstoppable."
For more information, please visit venus-guitars.com.
Introducing the Venus Revolution Guitar - YouTube
Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.Our columnist takes a good look at his guitars—and a stroll down memory lane—via famed luthier Joe Glaser’s new, free Gearcheck service.
I started buying gear in junior high and I’m still using some of it. My organizational skills have not really improved since then, so the inventory looks like a stamped-on ant pile. The daily 6-strings are stuffed on racks in my room and in gig bags or cases near my door, good-to-go. The less-used guitars are hidden in closets, stashed under couches/beds, and loaned out to friends. Then there are six or seven old battle axes that I’ve played for years that have grown so valuable that they now spend most of their time locked in a huge gun safe in the guest room. I’ve tried several times to catalogue the tools using a notebook, and then a few different long-since-dead computers. I had no idea how many guitars I owned ... until now, thanks to my friend Joe Glaser’s Gearcheck.
Glaser, a famed luthier here in Nashville, started Gearcheck as a software platform for cataloging instruments. Gearcheck gives you a personal and private digital gear room where you can list instruments’ basic model details (year, wood, pickups, etc.), then document them with photos, receipts, Reverb listings, reputable repair records, appraisals, insurance details, as well as your setup specs, string gauge, action, and relief. I even track who I loaned them out to or where they are stored. This is not static information, and tracking the life of a guitar this way gives insight and builds the stories that we care about. All of this establishes provenance, which is a difference between just something and something collectible.
If you’re interested in how this works, go to gearcheck.com. The free membership gets you 1 GB of memory to list your instruments. You can subscribe to get more memory should you need it. To give you some idea of what 1 GB worth of gear looks like, I have 55 instruments listed (49 guitars, 2 mandolins, 3 pedal steels, 1 lap steel) with between three to 12 photos per instrument—some with short descriptions and some with long war stories of modifications, accidents and gig abuse, as well as high points of the instrument’s history. So far, I’ve used .93 of my free gigabyte. I’m setting a limit now: My gear gluttony ends at .999 GB of storage.
The listing process was good for me. I spent my free time over the past 10 days, working late into the night, tracking down all my guitars. I discovered a few I had not seen in years and thinned the herd a bit. I also found some guitars that were great but had some glitch that kept me from playing them, like this killer Kiesel Custom Shop T-build whose middle pickup was wired out of phase, so I finally got off my ass and rewired it, and while I was at it, I swapped the original pickups that were a bit too hot with some Pete A. Flynn ’buckers that I’d been holding.
“My favorite instruments have had a Red Violin-style odyssey.”
Once I decided who made the cut, I started taking photos and uploading guitars starting with my favs. At first, I just listed the main details and basic photos, but then I thought, “Why not make it more about the stories?” Stories are always more interesting than things.
My favorite instruments have had a Red Violin-style odyssey. Their pasts before I got them are mostly guesswork and imagination, but I can document the highlights of my short time in their history. For instance, my 1954 Les Paul has a second jack input in the body that was later refilled. No idea what that was about, but Michael Wilton of Queensrÿche, who sold me the guitar, documented what happened during his time with it. Wilton played it on Queensrÿche’s albums Promised Land and Hear in the Now Frontier. Wilton replaced the bridge pickup wire in the cavity (because the original disintegrated) and replaced a dead potentiometer. Since I’ve had it, Glaser refretted and Plek’d the neck, and added his Stud Finder bridge. I’ve also played it on a ton of gigs. Now I’ve got all these details safely documented on Gearcheck, along with some photos of me playing that goldtop with Lainey Wilson on her first awards show.
Similarly, my 1969 Fender Thinline had some mysteries when I bought it from Chicago Music Exchange. I’ll never know why somebody added a second input jack, but I did document my adding a Glaser B-bender and a 22-fret sweet, flat neck that Fender’s Chip Ellis built to replace the original neck that never really fit in the neck pocket.
Antonio Stradivari made 960 violins between 1666 and 1737. At least 282 still exist and are potentially being played. I imagine, with some basic care, that at least several guitars I live with today will still be rocking 350 years from now. I’m glad I can document our brief time together. You don’t really own legacy instruments, you just keep them for the next player, all the while adding to their legacy.
Featuring studio-grade Class A circuit and versatile resonance switch, this pedal is designed to deliver the perfect boost and multiple tonal options.
Introducing the Pickup Booster Mini – our classic boost now in a space-saving package! Featuring the same studio-grade Class A circuit and versatile resonance switch that guitarists have trusted for over two decades, this compact pedal provides the perfect boost, while the resonance switch can access multiple tonal characteristics when you want it.
Meet the Pickup Booster Mini, our classic Pickup Booster in a pedalboard space-saving size. It delivers that extra push when you need it, along with our unique resonance switch that adds extra versatility! Think of it as your tone's best friend, now in a compact package that won't hog precious board space. Inside this mini powerhouse, you'll find our studio-grade class A circuit and true-bypass switching, ready to boost your signal while keeping your guitar's personality intact. Whether you're after a subtle boost or need to really push your amp, the discrete push-pull design has you covered. And here's a bonus: even at zero gain, it'll clean up your signal chain and make those tone-degrading long cable runs behave.
Need to pull a humbucker sound from your Strat®? The resonance switch makes the pedal interact directly with your pickups, letting your single coils emulate either a chunky humbucker sound perfect for classic rock and blues, or a high-output tone for soaring leads. Running humbuckers? Position 1 adds some teeth to your sound, while Position 2 can give you a hint of that 'cocked-wah' filter sound that'll make your solos cut. Bring one guitar to the gig and cover all that tonal territory with one simple switch!
This mini pedal delivers the exact same boosting and tone-shaping power of the iconic Pickup Booster that players have sworn by for two decades – we just made it easier to find room for it on your board.
For more information, please visit seymourduncan.com.
Pickup Booster Mini | Classic Boost Plus a Secret Weapon w/ Ryan Plewacki from Demos in the Dark - YouTube
After eight years, New Orleans artist Benjamin Booker returns with a new album and a redefined relationship to the guitar.
It’s been eight years since the New Orleans-based artist released his last album. He’s back with a record that redefines his relationship to the guitar.
It is January 24, and Benjamin Booker’s third full-length album, LOWER, has just been released to the world. It’s been nearly eight years since his last record, 2017’s Witness, but Booker is unmoved by the new milestone. “I don’t really feel anything, I guess,” he says. “Maybe I’m in shock.”
That evening, Booker played a release celebration show at Euclid Records in New Orleans, which has become the musician’s adopted hometown. He spent a few years in Los Angeles, and then in Australia, where his partner gave birth to their child, but when he moved back to the U.S. in December 2023, it was the only place he could imagine coming back to. “I just like that the city has kind of a magic quality to it,” he says. “It just feels kind of like you’re walking around a movie set all the time.”
Witness was a ruminative, lonesome record, an interpretation of the writer James Baldwin’s concept of bearing witness to atrocity and injustice in the United States. Mavis Staples sang on the title track, which addressed the centuries-old crisis of police killings and brutality carried out against black Americans. It was a significant change from the twitchy, bluesy garage-rock of Booker’s self-titled 2014 debut, the sort of tunes that put him on the map as a scrappy guitar-slinging hero. But Booker never planned on heroism; he had no interest in becoming some neatly packaged industry archetype. After Witness, and years of touring, including supporting the likes of Jack White and Neil Young, Booker withdrew.
He was searching for a sound. “I was just trying to find the things that I liked,” he explains. L.A. was a good place for his hunt. He went cratedigging at Stellaremnant for electronic records, and at Artform Studio in Highland Park for obscure jazz releases. It took a long time to put together the music he was chasing. “For a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do,” says Booker. “I just wasn’t interested in it anymore. I hadn’t heard really that much guitar stuff that had really spoke to me.”
“For a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do. I just wasn’t interested in it anymore.”
LOWER is Booker’s most sensitive and challenging record yet.
Among the few exceptions were Tortoise’s Jeff Parker and Dave Harrington from Darkside, players who moved Booker to focus more on creating ambient and abstract textures instead of riffs. Other sources of inspiration came from Nicolas Jaar, Loveliescrushing, Kevin Shields, Sophie, and JPEGMAFIA. When it came to make LOWER (which released on Booker’s own Fire Next Time Records, another nod to Baldwin), he took the influences that he picked up and put them onto guitar—more atmosphere, less “noodly stuff”: “This album, I was working a lot more with images, trying to get images that could get to the emotion that I was trying to get to.”
The result is a scraping, aching, exploratory album that demonstrates that Booker’s creative analysis of the world is sharper and more potent than ever. Opener “Black Opps” is a throbbing, metallic, garage-electronic thrill, running back decades of state surveillance, murder, and sabotage against Black community organizing. “LWA in the Trailer Park” is brighter by a slim margin, but just as simultaneously discordant and groovy. The looped fingerpicking of “Pompeii Statues” sets a grounding for Booker to narrate scenes of the homelessness crisis in Los Angeles. Even the acoustic strums of “Heavy on the Mind” are warped and stretched into something deeply affecting; ditto the sunny, garbage-smeared ’60s pop of “Show and Tell.” But LOWER is also breathtakingly beautiful and moving. “Slow Dance in a Gay Bar” and “Hope for the Night Time” intermingle moments of joy and lightness amid desperation and loneliness.
Booker worked with L.A.-based hip-hop and electronic producer Kenny Segal, trading stems endlessly over email to build the record. While he was surrounded by vintage guitars and amps to create Witness, Booker didn’t use a single amplifier in the process of making LOWER: He recorded all his guitars direct through an interface to his DAW. “It’s just me plugging my old Epiphone Olympic into the computer and then using software plugins to manipulate the sounds,” says Booker. For him, working digitally and “in the box” is the new frontier of guitar music, no different than how Hendrix and Clapton used never-heard-before fuzz pedals to blow people’s minds. “When I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time,” he adds.
“When I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time.”
Benjamin Booker's Gear
Booker didn’t use any amps on LOWER. He recorded his old Epiphone Olympic direct into his DAW.
Photo by Trenity Thomas
Guitars
- 1960s Epiphone Olympic
Effects
- Soundtoys Little AlterBoy
- Soundtoys Decapitator
- Soundtoys Devil-Loc Deluxe
- Soundtoys Little Plate
“I guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary. I wanted a little bit of ugliness.”
Inspired by a black metal documentary in which an artist asks for the cheapest mic possible, Booker used only basic plugins by Soundtoys, like the Decapitator, Little AlterBoy, and Little Plate, but the Devil-Loc Deluxe was the key for he and Segal to unlock the distorted, “three-dimensional world” they were seeking. “Because I was listening to more electronic music where there’s more of a focus on mixing than I would say in rock music, I think that I felt more inspired to go in and be surgical about it,” says Booker.
Part of that precision meant capturing the chaos of our world in all its terror and splendor. When he was younger, Booker spent a lot of time going to the Library of Congress and listening to archival interviews. On LOWER, he carries out his own archival sound research. “I like the idea of being able to put things like that in the music, for people to just hear it,” says Booker. “Even if they don’t know what it is, they’re catching a glimpse of life that happened at that time.”
On “Slow Dance in a Gay Bar,” there are birds chirping that he captured while living in Australia. Closer “Hope for the Night Time” features sounds from Los Angeles’ Grand Central Market. “Same Kind of Lonely” features audio of Booker’s baby laughing just after a clip from a school shooting. “I guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary,” says Booker. “I wanted a little bit of ugliness. We all have our regular lives that are just kind of interrupted constantly by insane acts of violence.”
That dichotomy is often difficult to compute, but Booker has made peace with it. “You hear people talking about, ‘I don’t want to have kids because the world is falling apart,’” he says. “But I mean, I feel like it’s always falling apart and building itself back up. Nothing lasts forever, even bad times.”
YouTube It
To go along with the record, Booker produced a string of music videos influenced by the work of director Paul Schrader and his fascination with “a troubled character on the edge, reaching for transcendence.” That vision is present in the video for lead single “LWA in the Trailer Park.”