Course of Ruin return with a record shaped by years that pushed its creator to the edge and then demanded he sing his way back. In this interview, circumstances that pulled old songs from a forgotten hard drive into the harsh light of a hospital room, where a guitar became both a distraction and a lifeline, are laid out. The artist speaks openly about writing through treatment, confronting the subjects he once avoided and reigniting a connection with the bandmates who still feel like brothers after twenty five years. The Stonington Project carries the weight of survival and unfinished business, and this conversation hints at the deeper emotional charge running through every track.
The Stonington Project feels charged with emotional voltage from the first few seconds of Beneath a Burning Sky. When you finally revisited those half-written songs from 2006, what shifted in you musically and personally that made finishing them feel non-negotiable this time?
The main thing would have to be the cancer diagnosis. I’ve been battling this since 2015 and this was the fourth time that it had come back and it came back with a vengeance. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left and since the majority of the cancer was in my lungs, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to sing so it was important for me to get these songs finished up quickly in case things went sideways.
You’ve spoken openly about writing much of the EP while undergoing TIL therapy in the hospital. When you were stuck in that room with a guitar and a pretty terrifying prognosis, what role did sound itself play for you? Was it distraction, defiance, or something far more visceral?
At first it was more about having a distraction and something to pass the time. The first week of treatment was 6 hours a day of chemotherapy, then a week of TIL therapy and 3 weeks of monitoring, so you’re kind of stuck in bed for 5 weeks and you start to go stir crazy. You can only watch so may episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm or Family Guy before even that gets boring. So I asked my sister-in-law Hannah if she could bring one of my guitars with her when she brought my kids to visit. This would at least give me something to noodle around on during the infusions.
I quickly started to realize that I needed an outlet to process what I was going through. It seemed like every time the doctor entered the room, it was to let us know that the situation was getting worse and they were finding more cancer with every scan. Because of that I started to go into a pretty deep depression at the time and for months afterward so this was sort of my “therapy” so to speak. It gave me something different to focus on and channel that energy into something that had been laying dormant for the past 17 years.
How did you navigate writing the lyrics on death, fear and letting go that you once avoided, especially when they came from such a vulnerable and physically brutal chapter of your life?
In the past, lyrics were always just thrown together at the last minute and not really given the focus and attention that they should have. It was more about the riffs and guitar solos, so that was something that I really wanted to avoid this time around.
The lyrics for these songs were definitely a lot more vulnerable. Throughout the years I’ve been pretty selective about who I would share information with on what I had been going through. My wife Jenni and I didn’t want to constantly be viewed with pity, so we didn’t want to make it too public.
The lyrics/vocals for this record really had me putting myself and my story “out there” so to speak and because of that, I was a little nervous about how they were going to be received. Some of the darker songs were actually pretty difficult to get through during the recording process. It was really hard to not get emotional when tracking them and I would have to stop, take a break and collect myself so I could get through the session and have a take that I was happy with. I think because of that, the raw emotion really came through.
After a twenty-five-year hiatus, stepping into a studio again must have been surreal. Did it feel like slipping back into old skin or more like meeting a new version of Course of Ruin that had been hibernating in the background all this time?
It kind of just clicked. I had been a producer and engineer for years after the band stopped playing so being in a studio was just kind of second nature for me. The great thing this time around is that the studio is in my guest bedroom (The Guest Room of Doom). I used to own a studio just outside of Las Vegas, NV and that’s where the drums were tracked back in 2006. Those tracks had just been sitting on a hard drive in a cardboard box down in my basement along with some scratch guitar tracks for the past 17 years.
I recently produced and engineered a record for my friends son’s band Corvus last year before I went into the hospital and because of that, I had converted the guest bedroom of my house into a control room. So everything just kind of fell into place for me to finally finish up this project.
Since this has been a passion project for me for so long, it was a little different doing everything by myself. Writing, performing, engineering, mixing/mastering. I had to wear a lot of hats but I think it was what was needed to pull me out of this downward spiral that I was in. It left very little room in my head to dwell on the uncertainty of my situation because I was so consumed with trying to get this project finished.
That’s the exciting part about everybody getting back involved and the ability to start collaborating and being able to share the load of the writing process. You don’t realize how difficult it is to write/perform everything on your own until you’re in the thick of it. Even though these songs were my own brainchild, I did still get help from the guys by sending them roughs and getting feedback. Chris even helped me come up with the vocal melody for the verses of “Landslides” since I was hitting a bit of a writers block and I think that’s really what stoked the fire in all of us to start writing again. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss doing something until you experience a small piece of it and then that tiny morsel creates a full blown hunger to get back at it.
The EP is absolutely possessed with purpose. How did it feel to hear the finished version?
Honestly, it felt great. I think this is the first project that I have been completely happy with. I’m typically pretty hard on myself and I’ll always find things that I wished I had done better. I’ve always hated the sound of my own voice but with this project I’m able to sit back, listen and say to myself, “ I guess it’s not THAT bad”.
Back in the late-90s you were sharing stages with acts who shaped entire pockets of punk history. How did those early years of chaotic Orange County nights and post-hardcore sweatboxes inform the energy you tapped into for this EP?
I think that the late-90s energy will always be a part of everything that we write. The Orange County scene is what shaped us and continues to shape us. When we weren’t playing shows, we were at shows supporting our friends or attending shows of bands that we looked up to/were fans of. Even with this record being a bit slower and more emotive, you’ll still hear references of our Orange County Punk early influences.
You’ve described the band’s return as unfinished business rather than nostalgia. What exactly feels unfinished to you, and how does that hunger shape the material you are already writing beyond The Stonington Project?
I think what we mean by that is that we still have more to give. Even since we stopped playing, Jacob, Dave and Chris are still my closest friends (more like brothers) and we kept in touch and talk all of the time. We’ve had conversations about looking back at what we did and how when you are young, you really take for granted the opportunities that you had and don’t take the time to step back and just really let it sink in that you are jamming, touring, and having fun with your 3 best friends.
The Stonington Project was a unique record because it was more about me getting to scratch my creative itch and to help me cope with everything that is/was going on. The new material that we are working on is kind of going back to our OC Punk roots but still having a more mature spin on it since we’re not 18 years old anymore. I think in the past 25 years, we’re learned more of what to do and more importantly what NOT to do in the song writing process. I’m really excited to see where the new material is headed.
You’ve been handed a second chance at life and, in a lot of ways, a second chance at the band. How does that renewed sense of urgency and gratitude filter into the way you approach rehearsals, writing sessions and even band relationships now?
It really sparked a fire in all of us to start writing and creating music again. The writing sessions are interesting since we all live in different parts of the country. Dave and Jacob are in the Dallas, TX area, Chis is still in Orange County, CA and I’m in Stonington, CT so we’ve been sending riffs back and forth to start writing some new material together. When you’re younger, you really try to write songs that sound like the bands that you love so for me it was all about trying to sound like Strung Out, Lagwagon, Good Riddance, etc. Now it’s just about writing songs that feel good to me and then collaborating with the other guys to refine them and get a unique finished product.
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Stream Course of Ruin’s latest release on Spotify.
Interview
