Elliot Coleman

Fuck it. I’m reviewing the new Good Tiger album.

We’re months away from releasing this thing, but that doesn’t mean ‘The Elliot Times’ can’t review it now! So here is an unapologetic, unbiased review from its singer (me).

I’m not going to be giving away any album or song titles yet, but let me say, the packaging is amazing. Each copy is encased in 24k gold, justifying its $999.95 price tag.

Let’s get this started

Track 1: when Mick Jagger asked if he could do a feature, we all got together and asked “how much is he going to to pay us? We should have him do it quick to get it over with”. So, yes, the English accent you hear does not belong to any of Good Tiger’s British members. Side note: Buckethead’s outro solo really holds the song together. I can’t think of a better way to start an album.

Track 2: This one is ok. A few too many other instruments (as in, all of them) get in the way of my voice. It’s like covering up a beautiful steak in a blanket of racism. Sure, the steak still tastes ok, but now it’s not as fun.

Track 3: I told my girlfriend I was going out to pick up some beer, but really I went to a strip club in lower Manhattan. This isn’t really a song, it’s just what I was recording on my phone that night. It’s, like, 4 hours long.

Track 4: This is actually just 'Where Are The Birds’ played backwards. Morgan had an app on his phone that reversed it.

Track 5: For this one, we all wanted to see what would happen if we switched instruments. So we have Morgan on vocals, Dez on bass, Joa on left handed bass, Rudy on guitar, and me on drums. The label threatened to drop us if we didn’t rewrite this one. So we told them we did (even though we didn’t).

Track 6: Legend has it Norma Jean recorded all of the vocals on their debut with a Radio Shack microphone. It has a lasting appeal/charm about it. We decided to follow in their footsteps, while going a step further. We picked up a couple of Barbie ukuleles, and a Fisher-Price 'Baby’s first drum kit" from Goodwill. Morgan used an old NIKE shoebox with some rubber bands. Yours truly got two Campbell Soup cans with a piece of string between them. It’s…. yeah…. it’s a classic for sure.

Track 7: ah yes, the song that probably bares the most “soul”. I had always heard the Beatles wrote their best stuff on LSD. I couldn’t find any, so I downed a bunch of Flintstones chewable vitamins. My pee turned real yellow. I hope you recognize the struggle within this performance.

Track 8: eggs, milk, laundry detergent, Brooklyn lager, bagels, deodorant

All right guys, I’m going to stop here because I don’t want to give away how many songs are actually on the album. I hope you’ve enjoyed this in depth and thorough preview/review. Remember, if you want an autographed copy, it’s going to cost you a lot of fucking money.

Giles came back today. Oh wait, you don’t know who Giles is, do you? Giles is the man we hired to take photo and video content during our recording session here at Middle Farm Studios. He stands 6ft 7in and runs a 6min mile with ease. I’ve only ran the 3 mile farm course twice, and both times with him. It’s the hardest course I’ve ever ran in my life. Before I get into that though, let me tell you how I became a runner, and why it’s important to me.

My dad was always in fairly good shape, but when I got to around 13 years old, he told himself “If I have any chance of still being able compete against him in basketball when he’s a teenager, I better start training now”. Right there and then he started running. Buying running books, subscribing to running magazines, buying running watches, all of it. He was obsessed. 5k races soon turned to 10k, which soon turned to half marathons, which soon turned to marathons. Hell he even did a triathlon and nearly drowned in the Chesapeake bay. When I turned 15, my dad forced me to run cross country at my High School. I wasn’t exactly thrilled. Actually, I was pretty fucking annoyed. At 15, my hobbies were basketball (poorly), playing guitar (poorly), playing video games (successfully), and, er, doing other things a young teenager does when his parents are at work (successfully). The thought of having to interact with classmates, and spend my Saturdays traveling to races that I would always finish in last, was not appealing. And thats exactly what happened. I finished last every. single. race. ‘Cause I didn’t try. Had no interest. My dad would take off from work early to watch me not try. He wasn’t too happy about that. I don’t blame him. Anyways, that would be the first and only school activity I would ever be eligible for as I continued to fail my classes. Sorry pop. I worked a near full time job all though my senior year of high school, so while he wasn’t exactly thrilled that I was on course to NOT graduating, he saw I wasn’t just sitting around doing nothing.

Anyways, years go by, I’m living on my own, blah blah blah blah blah. He’s still running, and still trying to get me into it. I still have no real interest of doing anything but going to work, coming home, drinking beer, and playing guitar. But he still tells me how great it is. I mean, he REALLY loves the sport. By the time I’m 25, I join my first band, ‘Sky Eats Airplane’. Going from working at Guitar Center, having never played in a serious band before, to suddenly touring the country and playing shows every single night, was pretty nuts. I appreciated the opportunity and experience, but I always kept the mindset of “this could literally end tomorrow”. I was sorta right. Sky Eats eventually fell apart, but as soon as it did, Of Legends was right there behind it, keeping the dream alive. After that, TesseracT was there. The TesseracT situation was a bit different though. I knew that wasn’t going to last long right after my first tour with them. When we agreed to an amicable split, I figured, “hey, I’m sure there’s probably another band right around the corner”. At this point I was 28 and felt too old to just start something new. Plus, I didn’t know the first thing about starting a new band. My buddy Zack and I had ‘Zelliack’, but him and I had no real idea how to bring our bedroom project onto an actual stage. A month after TesseracT and I split, I took a job tour managing a band over in Europe. By the time I got back to the states, I felt lost. I took a job working overnights in a warehouse because I figured I could work on music during the day while working all though the night. I never really minded the hours. 9PM to 6AM. Full time. I could dig it. It’ was supposed to be temporary, but soon the days turned to weeks, turned to months, till I was there for an entire year. Slowly withdrawing from my normal social groups.

When you work the night shift, even on your days off you still keep that schedule. So on days off during the weekday I’d be awake at 3am with nothing to do. Now THATS boring. At first I thought it was kinda nice that I could watch ’The Larry Sanders Show’ uninterrupted, but by the time winter came around I decided I needed to do something other than drink myself to sleep at 11am (Side note, when you’re buying beer at 9am, the person selling you beer has no idea that you just worked a nine hour shift. When you do this three/four times a week, they look at you like you have a serious problem. Hey man, I just want to get a little buzz while Jake and I play Grand Theft Auto, buzz off). There was a gym downstairs in my building, that had a treadmill. “Sure, why not, I’m out of beer, so I need something to do till the store opens up”. I got into full Rocky mode and put on sweats (I’m a dumb-ass) and went downstairs. My first run in close to a decade was by myself, at 3am. I ran a slow mile. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. Actually, I kind of enjoyed it. “Alright, I’ll try it again tomorrow.”. I did it the next day and went a little further. Honestly, I was hooked by my third run. I decided to run every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Each time going a little further till I was doing 4 miles regularly. It was still very wintery outside, and I had NO interest in freezing my balls off, but I figured if I could get to 4 miles at a decent pace on the treadmill I’d be good to go by spring. Once spring came around and I started going outside I realized this was something I wanted to do forever. There was a park/trail right next to my house that I had basically been ignoring the previous 7 years. I realized that at 5am, I would be the only person out there. Imagine having your very own park to run in. Thats what it felt like. As the running days turned to weeks, turned to months, I would ask myself, “Why do I run? For my sanity?”. Yes, that was a big part of it. But, always in the back of my mind, I kept telling myself, “If at any chance I’m going to someday get back onstage, I need to be ready. I need to be in shape”. I was turning into my dad. I was running with purpose, with a goal. Once I felt ready enough, I told him I wanted to run together. He was floored. Excited that there was a new father-son activity in his life. He’s passed on all his running knowledge to me. Thank’s pop. Last winter when Periphery were recording their new album, Jake came and stayed with me for two months. He’d been out of exercise for awhile, and told me he wanted to give running a try. I took him to a track right down the road and watched the man take 15 minutes to run 1 mile. There was a look of intense pain on his face. I figured there was no way in hell he was gonna want to do that again. Later on, over a couple of beers, he told me how he couldn’t wait to get back out there to do it again. So I put him through the ringer. We’d be out in the park and I’d say “don’t worry, the next hill is just a little one”, when really we were going over something that even I would struggle with. By the end of his two months, he was able to do 2 ½ miles without stopping. I figured he’d lose interest in it once he went back home, but he didn’t. He kept up with it, and when he came back to visit that summer we would do four and five milers side by side. Proud of you, bud. When Dez contacted me about wanting to start a new band and asked how would I feel about playing shows again, I didn’t hesitate. I felt ready to get back out there, mentally and physically.

Well, I’ve probably bored you enough. But quickly, let me tell you about this fucking farm course I’ve been running at the recording studio. It sucks. Shit, a goddamn marine would complain about this. The first thing that happens is you run straight up a hill for about half a mile. And it’s steep. Remember when Rocky ran up the mountain in Rocky VI? Well…. it’s not that bad. But to me it feels like I’m preparing to fight Ivan Drago. Around mile 2 you start having to suck in air that is 90% cow manure. So now you’re gagging when you’re already out of breath. Mile 2 ½ is down hill. You’d think that’d be easier. NOPE. It’s just at irritating as running UP hill, just not as tiring. Also, the road is AS wide as a single car. If a car needs to pass by, you have to stop running, and sink yourself into the stalk. Nice, just what I wanted. An itchy ass back. Mile 3 is the real “fuck you”. You’re completely exhausted at this point, all you want is a little straight road to run. Not gonna happen. Have fun running your ass up one more hill. Finally once you reach the end, you’re so cold and caked in mud that all you want to do is take a hot shower. Gotta be honest, I don’t think I’m gonna be missing this run too much once I get back to New York City. The first time we went out, it was me, Giles, and Joa. I came in dead last. I didn’t even know Joa fucking ran. Bah, whatever, now I’m droning. Thanks for listening!

I Think if you’re going to take vitamins and fish oil capsules daily, you should never do it with coffee. It couldn’t be further from Certs. Prepare to offend everybody you talk to with dragon breath. Avoid using words that are heavy on the “H” and “S” sounds. It’s hell on the stomach also. 10x times worse if you don’t eat anything. It’s a shame I don’t have any lyrics that have the vibe and viewpoint of a tortured soul, because I imagine I could deliver a real convincing performance, with my nauseated stomach being the catalyst. Is there such a thing as method singing? There has to be, right? No way you’re going to convince me that there wasn’t SOME acting involved when Jonathan Davis was singing “Twist”. I guess I COULD stick my finger down my throat and fix the problem myself, but I’m out of toothpaste, and I don’t think gargling with plain water is going to give me a clean, just brushed feeling. Oh well, I’ll stuff some bread and hope it helps (it won’t).

It’s a beautiful “musician’s morning”. For those who don’t know what a “musician’s morning” is, let me explain. “Musician’s Morning” is when your day starts at 12PM. Also known as, “jobless morning”, “deadbeat dad morning”, “still living at home with no prospects morning”. These are all interchangeable, depending on your situation. You can even do combinations. “Jobless musician with no prospects morning”; Has a nice ring to it. Anyways, as I mentioned in my last chapter, I always start my day off with toast and coffee. Consistency is key, especially when it comes to food. The nausea from the vitamins and fish oil is in full effect, but I can deal with it for now. Morgan, having finished up his bass tracking last night , is going back to London for a few days. Joaquin finished up his section of guitar tracking and had to return a few days ago to finish up a tattoo for a client. That leaves just Forrester, Nolly, me, and Dez. With only one more songs to track on vocals, I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with the remaining 7 days I have left with, once I finish. I’ve been thinking of going on a hike across the farm , but I have ONE pair on shoes with me. If I step in, what I like to call, a “land-mine of cow shit”, I’m screwed. Maybe it’s a risk worth taking though. I’m not suffering from cabin fever, but I’m sure it would be good for my sanity to get out of the compound and get some fresh air. Probably would do me some good to get some sunlight as well. Last thing I want is to have to get a vitamin D shot. Maybe I could bring a book, sit against a tree, set the self timer on my phone, and get some great “deep thinker” selfies. Naa, I don’t really want to lug a book around.

I love singing. I love doing it all day, everyday. Right now though, I hate singing. It’s because I have to do it all day, everyday. Beats stocking shelves I suppose. I’ve been putting off this song I have to do till the very end. I’m not thaaaat bad at tracking. I can get though parts pretty quickly, but I just know this one is going to take longer than normal. It’s probably the hardest song I’ll ever have to sing, and it’s all because of how softly I have to sing it. It’s closer to a whisper than it is singing. It wears your voice out like you wouldn’t believe. Maybe I’ll try to convince Forrester that I need to drink whiskey to achieve a specific tone I’m aiming for. Lyrically, the song has absolutely no connection to alcohol though, so if he calls my bluff I’m screwed. Worth a shot though.

I bet out of the last 18 days here, 12 of them have me going to bed at 3am, waking up at 6am, tossing and turning till I fall back asleep at 10am, and then finally waking up for good at 1pm. No bags or crows feet around my eyes, so I’m not too worried about appearance. In all honestly, should a man whose daily studio outfit is a pair of unwashed H&M joggers, and the same Banana Republic hooded sweatshirt (shirt optional) be concerned about appearance anyways? It’s not like I’m trying to impress anyone. I might as well be Robinson Crusoe, except my island is surrounded by musicians and farm life. 

I (sort of) have a morning routine. I stumble out of my bunk, consider sticking to my promise I made the night before of running 3 miles, deciding “fuck that”, walking to the bathroom to wash up, and then going to the house next door for toast and coffee. My hands and feet are constantly cold from what I presume is bad circulation from lack of daily exercise. What can I say, running sucks. I do know that if there was a basketball court here I’d be crossing up Joa’s fragile ass. Does billiards count as exercise? Speaking of billiards, that is really the only form of entertainment when it comes to downtime. Sure I could go watch Dez and Morgan play DOOM on the PS4 Morgan brought, but they only brought one controller. Who the fuck brings a multiplayer shooting game and only one controller. They’ve basically took away any chance of harassing, annoying, and shit talking. No thanks. Ok, it’s actually just come to my attention that DOOM is a 1 Player game, so I guess I can’t really complain, can I? Wait, yes I can. Should have brought Super Smash Brothers and a Gamecube.

I hear the rumblings of bass guitar as I make my way towards the main studio. It’s actually just playback at the moment. Looks like they’ve just finished another song. Morgan is off to the side fiddling around on a guitar (very well, might I add). I think they’re having issues with one of the amps in the live room and trying to diagnose the problem. Despite being a touring bass player once upon a time, I’m completely out of my element when it comes to the technical side of the instrument. I’ve no real valuable opinion to offer Morgan or Nolly, I just nod along with whatever the group says and repeat key phrase while scratching my chin. “It COULD be the capacitors” I chime in. Now’s my chance to sneak away. I’ll meet up with Forrester to see what vocal stuff we have to work on today AFTER lunch. Yes I know I just ate toast, but lunch is just an hour away. I’d go into how amazing the meals are here, but I don’t feel like writing for the next hour. Let’s just say, we ain’t eating cold sandwiches here. Seeing how I pretty much start tracking right after lunch, you’d think I be smart enough to eat a modest portion. Nope. I’ve eaten too much, and now have to make sure no burps slip though while tracking. I don’t think I’ve ever taken worse care of myself during a session, but the lack of sleep, dairy heavy diet, and beer don’t seem to carry over day to day. Perhaps this is an excuse to drink more. What, you don’t think James Hetfield had a beer before he went into the booth? I’m joking of course, I’ll wait till after my session to knock back a few cold ones with Dez. Maybe I’ll develop a drinking problem and bring it on the road with me. I sometime romanticize the idea of being a touring drunk. Then I snap out of it and realize I’m 32 and get sleepy after about four beers. I guess the ‘Motley Crue’ lifestyle isn’t for me.

Lunch is over, time to start another day on vocals! The fun begins. I start with warming up while browsing Reddit. I find r/nba to be the best warm up companion. Did you know that The Warriors have defeated the Cavs, Thunder, and Rockets by an average of 24.3 points this week? Well, now you do, and you have either r/nba, or my warmups to thank for that information. Working with Forrester has been a great experience. It’s fast and fun. We seem to have a pretty good of workflow going. I wanted to make the whole process of working with a new producer as easy as possible, so I went into this album ready to take on any suggestions he had. I think all of us as musicians always want to believe that whatever they’ve written is the best possible thing for the song. Most of us are reluctant to want to waiver from our original ideas. I wanted to try something different this time around and be open to any and all suggestions. Really makes the job go a lot faster, with results better than I anticipated.