It's 8:03 on a Sunday morning in Silver Lake, a mile below the hillside house that Winter and his band, Geese, have been living in for the past week. They’d cut six songs in six days and, as I left the studio, were starting the seventh. Getting Killed rips open the carcasses of Radiohead, Pavement, and Swans and feasts there, looking up with a big, bloody grin. Meanwhile, back home in New York, the sessions for Heavy Metal’s successor are also well underway. Winter has Dropbox folders, a few people tell me, stuffed with a thousand unused songs.