Let's start with Vazquez, the bassist. He died. Sort of. "The thing about recording is that it seems like a walk in the park," says the bassist. "But for our new record, I got lost in the process. I wasn't sleeping or anything. So one day, I call up [vocalist] Noelle, and I say, 'Why don't we go to the gym and get fired up?' So I get off the treadmill, and all of the sudden I feel this weird sensation going up my head."

Moments later, Vazquez is passed out and being rushed into an ambulance. "We didn't have insurance or money at this point, so when I woke up, all I could think about was how much it was going to cost. But then I noticed a priest was over me reading my last rites."

Fortunately, the bassist recovered from his brain hemorrhage with only a two-day coma and a maddening stutter to show for it ("It's cool, man, I can still play spin the bottle and sh-t"). But for Damone, this is just one of a hundred obstacles they faced while making their latest record.

The problems started two years ago, after the Boston, Massachusetts band was finishing up a year and a half of touring behind their debut record, From The Attic, a solid piece of punk-metal that was most notable for its lead singer, then 18-year old Noelle. It was good stuff, but also a little hard for the general masses to swallow--after all, it's not every group that can take their musical cues from Rick Springfield, Dinosaur Jr., Def Leppard, and Joan Jett, and then top it all off with a kick-ass girl singer.

"All we wanted to do was bring back the spirit of good rock music," says drummer Dustin Hengst. "We love stuff like the Crue, Queen, and Andrew WK. Sh-t like that. What we do is a celebration of what we like about big rock 'n' roll. Even the hair-metal bands of the '80s--we love 'em. Sure, they copped everything from Aerosmith and Zeppelin, but man, they were slaves to songwriting. They made some of the coolest songs ever. I think today everything's become really formulaic, or it's that irritating, miserable wallowing."