Behind The Tracks: Art Of Dying / Adelitas Way - Step Up (Single) (2026)

It’s 7:10 in the morning. I step onto the stair climber at the public gym in Vancouver. Not an elliptical, but an actual rotating stairs machine.

I stare out at the trees of Queen Elizabeth Park, which have started to show tiny dots of spring green through the brown. I love this time of year. I feel that familiar buzz of adrenaline and dopamine as my heart rate approaches 150 bpms mid workout. Hope dries up the winter rain. It’s this time of year that I start to believe that anything is possible. Like clockwork, I start to feel invincible.

I get out my phone and begin typing in my notes app. The words come fast. Looking down at my gym shoes, I have to laugh as I’ve written the words ‘Step Up' with my feet doing exactly that in my peripheral. After believing I have a title, I revert to writing the verses. “What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger” seems a little stock for an opening line, but I forge on. The words fit well with the melody I am humming. I have also learned that opening the mental floodgates when writing is important. Self-editing and overthinking things in the moment usually hurts a song. I forge on. “Grind against the grain”.

Now time to slay the naysayers. “I won’t bite, what you’re selling, I just don’t need”. The second verse comes quick as well. I’ve got the chorus locked in, ending with my personal creed: “I’ll never know if I don’t try”. That line appears in many songs throughout my career. It just happens to be the email signature of my first manager in the business. RIP Ffroe. He passed away years ago in Texas, but will always be remembered for many endearing qualities. But the one I think of the most is that email signature and the “can-do” attitude he brought to everything. He believed in me. And that was a special feeling.

I know I need a bridge, so I continue writing. This section is inspired by Adam Gontier and Three Days Grace, a band that I have looked up to for decades. “It’s a slow death to stay where you are”.

The melody starts to weasel its way into my poetry writing session, but the gym is packed. Workout done.

I jump off the step machine, grab my bag and sweatshirt, and head home.

My daughter’s guitar is waiting for me. I take it into the bathroom and work through the words as the melody comes. I deliberately choose to keep the tempo down. I want this to sound like Def Leppard or something. I want the words to be heard. After singing the idea into my voice recorder i ship it off to Tavis as a text. He loves it.

Later that day, he gets to work on the ghost track and sends it back to me.

I set up my home studio in the closet and scream into the mic for three hours.

I sent Tavis the vocals in a folder to his studio in Vegas.

He lays down all of the instrumentation and programs the drums. Takes him a couple of days.

When he sends me the first raw recording, I instantly think of Rick DeJesus and our buddies in Adelitas Way. This song would be perfect to have them involved, kinda seems perfect for Rick’s voice.

We propose the idea, and Rick loves the tune.

He spends some time with the second verse, and we go back and forth via text, honing the words to fit his style.

I remember being on the streets of Victoria on an unusually sunny spring day, coming up with the “predator, never the prey” line. I’ve fully welcomed songwriting into my regular daily activities. There is no ‘songwriting’ time. Every hour of the day, in the elevator, mid lunch, driving the Jeep through the city… It’s all ‘songwriting time.’ Weeks later, Rick lays down his vocal and switches up a couple of lyrics like “feel revived” and “no one left but you and me”. I love the result.

It’s all come together very magically. Very little struggle or friction, if any. This song was created through the fluidity of openness and collaboration.

In the modern era of collaborating on music, ideas can come on a step machine in Vancouver and be honed on apps and FaceTime chats from Las Vegas. We no longer need to be in the same room to write or record. I do miss the old days of flying to one location and meeting in a jam space or a writing room, but there’s also something to be said of embracing what’s available to us now.

Support independent metal journalism — Visit the official BTC store