Asthmatic Kitty Records

Chris Schlarb

Making The Saint

Catalog: AKR115 • Cover Art: Jason Munn
Release date: May 27, 2014
  • LP Limited edition white vinyl
  • CD
  • MP3 Bandcamp Buy
  • iTunes Buy

CD and LP include immediate download of full album in 320kbps MP3.
LP also includes download coupon to MP3 and FLAC.

Making The Saint is my newest full-length record. I recorded it inside a cabin in the San Bernardino mountains of California. The owners told me to keep an eye out for ghosts. When I started driving up into the mountains, I didn’t have any new music prepared. I’d just finished an East Coast tour with my Psychic Temple band; six members strong on the road and twelve musicians back at home. A big band for sure. We’d already booked another tour with the guys, each of whom have their own bands. As I drove, I found myself yearning for an intimate, unpolished sound. Even though Psychic Temple is a big deal, I love small records. When I say “small record,” I think of Sandy Bull’s Fantasias for Guitar and Banjo, Bill Evans trio albums at the Village Vanguard, Fripp & Eno’s No Pussyfooting, or Thelonius Monk’s sublime Solo Monk. Each of these albums is simple and direct. Making The Saint is a small record too. I didn’t belabor it. Everything came together quickly. I followed my instincts. Making The Saint is also a spiritual retreat; a healthy and necessary separation after so many strong collaborations. If you’re Sufist, you’d call this khalwa. In Japanese Zen Buddhism, it’s known as sesshin. The Santerian process of Asiento requires the initiate to dress in white garments and avoid physical contact for one year. Like so many have done before me, I forced myself into solitude and found something new. I recommend listening to this album on a Sunday morning before the day makes an imposition. I hope you enjoy it. – Chris Schlarb

    Press Quotes

  • "Gorgeously meditative." SPIN
  • "It's people like Chris Schlarb that keep music interesting. " Exclaim
  • "A refined yet minor record that works as an intimate aperture into the subtle wonders of Schlarb’s catalog." Pitchfork