And I mean old. These sound like scratch demos. All ballads. I have a vague recollection of recording them in the basement of Mr. Brian Janes’ house, somewhere in the mostly-criminal Chicago area. I don’t recall the exact year, but it must’ve been during the last Ice Age (the one caused by dinosaurs and their evil addiction to fossil fuels). Anyway, it’s always interesting to see what the past-me was up to. At least, I find it interesting. If you don’t find it interesting, feel free to go bake a delicious cake and send it to me. I prefer the Gateaux Foret Noire.