This album represents a full year (2012) of unsure foreboding: a sense of oncoming destruction, but also doubt toward that sense. The feeling that things all around us are falling to pieces, the stress of working full-time and then some while barely holding finances together and struggling to build something from scratch while, elsewhere, things erupt into chaos and yet... from our discrete vantage point -- sitting on our porch with a beer, eating strawberries grown from the planter on the overhang and listening to the playbacks of this very album as a work in progress, watching golden clouds on the wide horizon drift over the across-the-street neighbor slowly tending her lawn -- things seem peaceful.

We must be okay, for now, right? So are we crazy, paranoid? Or are we uncomfortably aware that this is just as good as it gets, living in a land of relative peace, but one who has pissed off just about everyone and fucked up the weather to get there, a land that praises and practically requires working overtime for someone whose goals you probably don't stand by, a land that heavily fantasizes about the End Times and, honestly, kinda has it coming, and the reward for all this is the ability to come home to your oil-burning air-conditioning and consume entertainment about political intrigue, people working, or the apocalypse. Hard earned peace. Privilege. The American Dream, really. But it can't stay that way forever.

So this is an album about both sides of that feeling. It's about accidentally finding a breach in the side of a wooded mountain which, upon retrospect, does not seem to exist, and appreciating the view with strangers you'll never see again; the inability to silence a dream despite its impracticality, and the fact that you won't be any better off if you do silence it; the mutually foreseeable end to a relationship; a deconstruction of the events of the recent past and the necessities of the near future, interspersed with wild fantasy; a bluesy, drug-addled soul wandering into a dance party so beautiful and overwhelming as to induce vomiting; a recognition of and caution against our collective death-wish; proudly going your own direction despite discomfort and disbelief in what it's doing to you; the swirling pre-forms of the creative process as seen by the light of the full moon, lakeside; traversing through natural beauty and technological cacophony and loving it both; and finding beauty and solace from within, safe at home in the quiet hours of the night. In that order.

In the end, that storm did come, though not in the form that we expected, and it's not over yet. The future lies widely ahead, and we must confront it individually. This album was too personal and immense for us, as a band, to contain, and bringing it to light tore us apart. What will it do to you?

There's certainly more where this came from, and supporting this album will support the future projects of both of us. But as far as Sensual Predator goes... That's all, folks!