The Making Of “IT IS IMPOSSIBLE”

Back in 2005, I woke from a fearsome slumber and summoned The Eggs to my side with the traditional bugle fanfare that has announced my intentions since the late 17th Century. “We shall record again” was my declaration. And we did. Hiring an entire recording studio for our needs, I sent each band member into their own room to begin. Traditionally, it is said, musicians will write songs before heading into the studio to “lay them down”, but playing by the rules has never been my game. We would record the album first – with each band member working independently – and then write the songs afterwards.

The line-up of The Eggs has received much scrutiny over the years, and while the late-90s personnel are considered “classic”, I personally believe that any musician is a qualified Egg-in-training. They just need to open their mind’s eye and let me inside. On this occasion, everybody had those additional eyes open so widely that light streamed forth from their foreheads. Baron Von Sneer (drums) flailed his limbs like a robot warrior; Sandhor Vermiliad (keyboards) put aside his contempt for being indoors to gently caress the oscillators of my rare synthesizer collection; Mioceles Tuberforce (bass) was at his perfunctory best. The list of musicians that took part is lost, and my memory fails me (the above names are made up, and have no basis in reality), but I do remember that everybody who took part in the “It Is Impossible” sessions outdid themselves entirely.

It Is Impossible will be available to download from this website soon. In the meantime, you can hear it over at the primary fansite. A track-by-track synopsis follows…

Track 1: Maudlin Nonsense

Tweaked out by Sandhor (I shall stick to the names above for consistency, though they are inaccurate) during an afternoon session, the melancholy tones of this song drifted along the corridor to the rest of the group, who had left their chambers to pick at a hog roast. Delighted, we clustered at the studio door to listen; this was the first fruit of our sessions. Sadly, for six months, this was the only song we had.

Track 2: I Went To The Leper Hospital It Was Built In 800AD And Now It Is Mostly Ruins

Following that half-year of hesitation (during which I wrote three solo albums which are yet to see release), things began to run more smoothly. Mioceles came across a formula of pointing and shouting that seemed to get the best out of us. This track was his brainchild, though Von Sneer contributed greatly; during the mixing phase a stray dog ran into the studio and barked once, sharply. It was at that exact point that we knew we had something special. And I don’t mean the complimentary dog! Although I do love him earnestly.

Track 3: What This Means Only The Gods Can Know

A spiritual lament that emerged from a contributing violinist, who – I think – was Von Sneer’s ex- or future- wife. Either way, he demanded that her credit be stripped from the album due to her past or future indiscretions. The whole business made me feel a little queasy, which I think shows up on the finished track.

Track 4: Even This Is Not The Same

I don’t remember this one. I’m listening to it now but I can’t hear it. I think Ted Vaaak had a hand in this one, he kept gatecrashing the recording sessions under the guise of a “gonzo” journalist, dishing out wine gums to the band members and studio staff and passing out under the mixing desk. His involvement would certainly explain why my ears can’t pick this up, he was the one person ever to discover my “unavailable frequencies”. Curse that man.

Track 5: I Fear Nothing Except The Infinite

I still fear the infinite. I guess it’s something you can’t really get “over”.

Track 6: I Fell Through Time Today, It Was Beautiful

Ah, yes. This was a hit in Latvia, and actually briefly considered for the Eurovision Song Contest until somebody pointed out that it would be deeply offensive and incomprehensible to the European countries that, at that time, had no concept of “time”. I tried to alter the lyrics to make it about food, or gardening, but nothing felt right. Another chance at global fame spurned, I suppose, although the actual song chosen for the competition that year was almost certainly ignored in favour of political voting for Hungary, who had threatened nuclear war unless their song topped the chart.

Track 7: It Is Impossible

The title-track. This tells the tale of the first man on the Sun, because somebody had to – the history books have excised him, calling the story “boring, and probably made up”. Every song on this album tells a true historical story, especially the ones without words. I consider myself an encyclopedia.

Track 8: It Is Time

Time, again. Always time! Ironically, there wasn’t time to listen to this one – I used the “skip” button on my remote-control.

Track 9: It Is The End

Indecipherable nonsense from one of the guitarists we brought in. None of them lasted more than a day, for some reason. No constitution. I remember most of the reviews for the album getting confused at this point, because the title of the song (“It Is The End”) implies the end of the album, which – of course – is still two tracks away! We really riled up the squares with that little trick.

Track 10: Actually It Isn’t At All

How we laughed! As we were blacklisted by the “Melody Maker” for being unreliable tricksters. This “song”, if I can call it that, is my personal favourite, due to the middle – and parts of the end. Sandhor wrote it, I think, although I took credit. They wouldn’t have been there if not for me, after all. If you can organise a gang of miscreants into a cohesive whole for the recording purposes of recording then you deserve everything you get, although in truth I received almost nothing.

Track 11: But This Is

This sounds like a guitar-based song but was actually performed entirely a capella. If you listen very closely then you can tell.