Paul Megna has crafted the hangover record of the year with the Oxygen Ponies eponymous debut. Like the best Afghan Whigs records, I can’t get enough of it, but I hope Megna never has to live through these stories again. Thankfully, he seems well, setting his sites on more topical songwriting for future projects. But about that debut…

The characters in your songs can barely get off the couch. You were able to get off the couch long enough to produce a really great record. What’s your secret?

I did get off the couch, didn't I? But it took a long time. I loved writing songs but I was terrified to go out and play them in front of people. I was terrified to commit to actually making a record. I figured I'd be dead before I got to finish it. That's the one thing that's stuck with me after being shot, aside from the bullet. That sense of impending doom.

But with the record I felt like I didn't have a choice. After the wedding got cancelled and she moved out and took the cat, I was just sitting in my empty apartment staring at the walls and I realized it was either get off my ass and do something or fall back into old patterns. It's kind of embarrassing when you're girlfriend has to force you into the bathtub because you haven't showered in three weeks. So I decided to throw myself into something. It ended up being the record.

When is your favorite time to cross the Brooklyn Bridge?

Sunrise... slightly drunk, on my way home after 12 hours of recording.

The record is incredibly sedate and even the louder sections have an exhausted feel. How did you capture this in the studio? Did it come naturally for you?

I think it did come naturally. My background has always been film and theater. So I always thought of the record in a visual way. Like the album as a whole should be like a movie and should have an arc. And each song should be a scene supporting the big picture. In the studio, I was very conscious of what song would or should come next and where certain instruments would come into play. I tried to record every song with that in mind. If something didn't further the 'story' we got rid of it and replaced it with something that did. With this record exhaustion was a major layer but I think it's more about the will to survive once reaching the state of exhaustion. I think there's a layer of hopefulness.

Your record reminds me of "There’s a Riot Going On" by Sly and the Family Stone in that it can be seen as a warning for self-destructive souls or (on the other end of the spectrum) as the perfect "me and the bottle" record. What do you *hope* the listener gets out of the record?

Damn, I wish I had Sly Stone's rhythm section. It's easy to point the finger at everyone else, but real growth comes when you take responsibility for your actions and who you are. At least that's what I hope people take from the record. If you want to wallow, be my guest - but make a conscious choice. Don't blame your girlfriend/boyfriend or your parents or the government - get over yourself.

Tell me a bit about your band and the role they had in shaping this record.

This record really is a testament to the artistic community Don and Steve Salett have put together at the Saltmines in Dumbo. That's where Don's studio is and there's also a bunch of rehearsal rooms where bands like King of France, Earl Greyhound, Sam Champion, French Kicks, Less, The Silos and A Don Piper Situation kick around. Just being a part of that is like going to rock school. It was paramount. And it gave us the freedom to walk out into the hallway and see who was around and pull them into the studio to try things.