"My only concern as far as sales is, within the space of a year, I'd like it to pay for itself," Schmidt says. "I'd like to break even on it--not me personally, but for Sam [Paulos], because I asked him to do a lot of things differently this time. I'd like him to see that this all made sense somehow."
Even though recording Love or the Decimal Equivalent drained Schmidt's bank account, it hasn't exhausted his love of music. He's already begun testing out new material, and another record is being planned, whether anyone will release it or not. In a weird way, he seems rejuvenated by the whole experience, cleansed by fire.
"Despite having been through all the musical stuff that I've been through, I don't think I'm really cynical about it," he insists. "I still have a lot of the same goals. I still want the music to exist for the music's sake. A lot of times, you get guys my age that have been in bands for the last 10 or 15 years, and they're at the point where they just want to make money at it. I can't blame them, because, man, those thoughts have crossed my mind, and I don't know how you could do it without making money at it. But I know when that gets involved, that the music doesn't end up how I want it."
It's those kinds of sentiments that convince the listener that Peter Schmidt hasn't just grown older playing rock and roll--he's grown smarter too. He no longer wants, or needs, to be a rock star. He just wants to be a musician.