They never seem to allow themselves to be happy with anything that they record. This is commonly known as “GRS” or “Guitarists Recording Syndrome”, which is not to be confused with “RLS” or “Red Light Syndrome”, which is where a musician, upon seeing the red “Recording in progress” light go on, on whatever recording device they are using, suddenly find that their fingers have suddenly been replaced with ones that have all the dexterity and grace of ten pork sausages and they just can’t seem to stop making mistakes. Mark unplugged his guitar and sat down. He relaxed as Neville readied himself for his turn. As he played, his guitar line seemed to weave in and out of Mark’s and then at certain points it would join up with it to double the impact, then it would go off again in its own direction. The effect was impressive, and Caveman, Nerves and Mark all listened with satisfied looks on their faces. When Neville had finished, Caveman pushed the stop button and slumped back in his chair. “Can I do that one again?” asked Neville. “I am sure I can do that better.” Caveman smirked and said “You suffering from GRS too?” “What? Oh…no, nothing like that, I just want to do it again because I can better it,” Neville replied, one end of his sentence contradicting the other. Caveman in his experience knew that when a take is good and has the right feel and dynamics, it is often better to leave it as is, warts, small errors and all rather than try again and risk ending up with something perfect yet flat sounding. “Neville, this is a good take. If you want I can drop you in and you can fix the mistakes if there even are any to fix, cos I didn’t hear ‘em, but I think that doing the whole thing again would be a real big mistake. Tell you what. Give it about ten minutes and we will listen to it again and see how you feel then,” responded Caveman wisely. He knew that the one way to beat GRS was simply to make the guitarist wait a few minutes, and very often when you play back the recording after a short break, they can’t remember what it was they had an issue with. Guitarists and goldfish have a lot in common in some ways. “Oh…okay. If you feel that is best,” smiled Neville, who then took off his guitar and sat down in the chair next to Mark, and as he did so he realised that Mark was reaching out towards his guitar and smiling. Neville smiled and handed his guitar to Mark who looked at it with glee. Neville stared for a few seconds at Mark, and then deliberately coughed. Mark, who was still intently looking at Neville’s guitar, picked up his own guitar without looking from the stand next to his chair and handed it to Neville who examined it with the same kind of glee that Mark had done with his. At this point, Nerves came back into the room with another tray of tea and biscuits. Caveman was somewhat surprised, as he hadn’t noticed when Nerves had left the room. “What is going on?” Nerves asked as he put down the tray. “Oh, the guitarist equivalent of I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours I think,” answered Caveman with a wicked grin. Mark looked up in mock contempt for the comment, and Neville said to him “Really…. you bassists are all the same. All got dirty minds. Having two strings less gives you too much time to think you see.” Nerves laughed at the comment, then said “Besides, it’s your turn to record now isn’t it?” directing the question at Caveman. “Uh-huh.” responded Caveman, and picked up his bass. He plugged into the amp and did a quick tuning check. All was fine, so after a few moments of psyching himself up, he hit the record button and started to play. When the track finished, he hit the stop button and relaxed. He was quite pleased with his performance, and everyone else seemed to be okay with it too, so he was quite content to leave it at that. Then he said, “Nerves, you’re up mate.” Nerves, who was still sipping his tea, said “Oh, okay,” while getting to his feet. He stuffed one more chocolate biscuit into his mouth before sitting behind his kit, and picked up his sticks. He tapped round the rubber pads with his drumsticks and got the sound of wood on rubber. These electronic pads don’t make any recognisable drum sound acoustically, just a sort of dull rubbery thud. He was doing a few rolls around the kit and suddenly, as Caveman rolled up the volume of the drums through the recording program, the dull rubbery thud was replaced by a huge, solid, very real sounding drum sound which seemed to fill the room. A few more rolls and Nerves announced that he was ready. Caveman hit record once more and Nerves started the track with a quiet part that built tension, and got louder as it went on. Then, to accentuate the beginning of the new part, he played a massive crash just at the point where the guitars got heavy. Just looking at Nerves playing, you could see that he meant every beat of what he was playing. He believed in this track and it showed. His movement was fluid and graceful, yet powerful, and every roll and fill was a blurred flurry of sticks and arms. Unlike a lot of drummers that Caveman had met and seen play, he knew that Nerves wasn’t playing to just keep time and do his own small, self-contained embellishments, he was making his drums an integral part of the track and accentuating the feel and urgency of parts, as well as holding back others when it was required. Every fill was just as important as any of the guitar parts, because Nerves was making it that way, and this was a good demonstration of how to play drums and be a musician, not just a drummer. Caveman smiled to himself as he watched. Mark and Neville had also stopped to watch, though still holding each other’s guitars. Nerves was very relaxed as he played and that showed in his facial expression. When the track was over, he put down his sticks and was surprised to get a round of appreciative applause from the two guitarists. He smiled and said “Thanks.” Then Caveman started playback. They all seemed pleased with the result and were talking about solos, but before the conversation could get too far, Caveman said “Hey! Where’s Lungs? Has she gone home?” Nerves leapt to his feet and disappeared out of the room. He sprinted up the stairs in the direction of the bathroom and when he got there he stopped and listened at the door. He heard nothing, no sound at all. “Lungs? Are you in there? Are you okay?” Still there was no answer. He tried the handle, but the door was locked from the inside, but now he heard some rustling and a voice, were those moans? He banged on the door with his hand and spoke more forcefully. “Lungs! Are you okay?” He was just debating whether to break the door down or call the emergency services when the door suddenly opened and a smiling Lungs peered round. “What? Where’s the fire?” she asked, headphones still in her ears. “I was getting worried there! You have been gone for ages. What have you been doing in there if you don’t mind me asking?” Nerves said, feeling that this normally invasive line of questioning was justified under the circumstances. “I haven’t been gone that long have I?” she responded. “Yes actually. Most of the track is done!” he said. “Sorry, I’ll come down and make some tea and give the track a listen,” and with that, she left the bathroom and walked down the stairs in front of Nerves, who was actually feeling quite relieved that he didn’t have to break the door down after all. Lungs entered the front room to questions regarding where she had been, and comments that let her know she had been missed, as if she had been away for weeks. She just smiled and avoided having to answer any of them by saying, “Okay, who wants tea?” Immediately everybody’s attention shifted to thoughts of tea and biscuits, and Lungs obligingly made her way to the kitchen to make tea. She hummed away as she did so and continued as the tea brewed. In the front room, Caveman was sat in front of the computer, Nerves was once more sat behind his kit, not that he was going to play, he just found it comfortable, and Neville and Mark were still sat in the chairs, still holding each others guitars. They were all busy… taking a break, and talking quietly. They could hear Lungs in the kitchen humming away, and the sound of cups and spoons occasionally darting into the melody. Then something suddenly changed. Her humming was sharply and suddenly curtailed. “Eeuuugghhh!!! Oh my God!!” Lungs exclaimed from the kitchen. Instead of trying to find out what had happened, Nerves who was still in the front room, simply looked at Caveman with a knowing look and said “Fridge…” Caveman just nodded in response. “Caveman! What on earth have you got in the fridge? It smells awful! I feel sick!” Caveman thought this was hysterical and was laughing hard though he was trying to do it quietly so Lungs wouldn’t hear. They could hear the sound of things being moved in the kitchen and then Lungs exclaimed “Urghhhh Yuk!!” The sound of the back door suddenly opening was heard, followed by the sound of footsteps, a rustling sound, and a thud. Then there was what sounded like a coughing fit, after which the footsteps worked their way back into the kitchen. The back door made a solid clunk as it was firmly shut. “There! Got rid of it. That cheese, well I think it was cheese…. anyway…it was totally green! I have never seen anything like it! It stunk!!” Lungs berated Caveman as she entered the front room with the tray of tea and biscuits. “Thanks for getting rid of it for me. I would have done it myself but I was too afraid to go near it to be honest,” he said. Lungs scolded him with her best how-could-you look. Caveman put on his best angelic smile and tried to placate her. “So do you want to hear what has been done?” “Oh yes please!” she said and sat down in a chair. Caveman started the playback and Lungs listened intently. As the track played, she nodded her head in time to the music and smiled as certain things about it caught her attention as they went by. When the track was over, she said “Oh yes! That sounds really good! We need the vocals on it now I guess.” “Yeah. Let me know what day is good for you and you can come over to record them, okay?” Caveman said casually. “How about today? Now in fact,” Lungs responded. “What? You have lyrics for this already? How did you manage that?” a shocked and rather bemused Caveman replied. “That’s why I went to the bathroom earlier. I wrote the lyrics and the vocal melody along to the mp3 recording you made for me. Very rock ‘n’ roll huh?” she laughed. Caveman, not totally convinced that this wasn’t a wind up, plugged in a mic, and put it on a stand in the middle of the room for Lungs. He sat at the computer and clicked on a few things with the mouse, and then he tapped the mic with a finger to check that he could hear sound from it, and plugged a pair of headphones into the PC for Lungs to hear herself as she sang. He put them on, and played the track back, and once he was satisfied with the balance of the instruments, he indicated to Lungs that she should sing something into the mic. “One two! One two! Yeaaaaaah!” she let go with a massive sustained note. Caveman winced, and quickly lowered the volume on the mic. When he was happy that all was set, he handed the headphones to Lungs who promptly put them on. Caveman then dug out a second pair of headphones, for himself this time, and put them on. Lungs positioned herself in front of the mic, making sure that she was standing in just the right position and posture to do what was required of her. Caveman, who was twiddling virtual knobs on the virtual mixer on the very real screen in front of him, spoke without averting his gaze. “Is that enough reverb for you?” “Yes, that’s great, thanks,” said Lungs. “Okay then, here we go.” Caveman hit the record button and sat back. Lungs suddenly felt quite self-conscious, after all, the others could all hide behind their instruments, but she felt bare and exposed all of a sudden, probably because she was now aware that all the guys in the room were focused on her. She took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself. The tracks intro rolled around and then she started to sing, gently with an ‘Ooooooh’ intro, then as she approached the section of the song where it became heavy, the ‘Ooooooh’ increased in volume, power and ferocity ending in a note that nearly burned the paint off the walls of the room they were in. As she sang her way through the song, she kept occasional eye contact with the rest of the guys to see if she could gauge how they liked…or not…what she was singing. Neville, who was watching her intently, liked the conviction that she sang with and the way she approached the mic. She would seem to sing a line and then back off from it, and just before the next line she would dart in again. If the mic were a person she would be nose to nose with them staring them down eye to eye, it was that kind of attitude and Neville liked that committed, unafraid, you-will-bend-to-my-will kind of action. When she had finished, she looked around nervously, and Caveman said, “Okay, we’re clear,” indicating that the recording had stopped and that it was okay to make noise. On that cue, Lungs was suddenly presented with a round of applause. She beamed, more with relief than anything else. “That was great!!” offered Nerves “Thanks. You don’t think that I went over the top on the intro do you?” she asked. Before Nerves could answer Caveman interjected, “You leave the intro alone! It was great! In fact, leave it all alone. I thought it was a great take and first time too. Amazing!” “What about you guys?” she asked Neville and Mark. “Them? Leave them alone they are married now! When they leave here they are going on their honeymoon,” Caveman said with a wicked grin. Nerves exploded with laughter, obviously getting the joke, but Lungs didn’t and half smiled looking for explanation from Nerves, who, once he had composed himself enough said, “They swapped guitars more than an hour ago and haven’t moved from each others side since. Couples getting married swap vows, and guitarists getting married swap guitars!” “Oi, less of that from you two you cheeky buggers!” said Neville, and was just about to respond with a humorous jibe of his own, when Mark tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You can wear the dress tonight if you like, I really don’t mind,” obviously playing up to the comment. That was the point at which Neville knew that he was on his own here and would have to defend himself against these mock attacks, he thought for a second, and then started a killer verbal assault of his own, “Well…um…. you…ummm…doh….” was the best he could seem to come out with when it came to it. “Oh I am going to make some tea!” he said in mock annoyance, and putting down Marks guitar, stomped off to the kitchen, leaving everybody laughing at the way he had hammed it up so beautifully. After a few hours more work, the guitar solos had been recorded and the track had been mixed. ‘Mixing’ is the process by which all the instruments are balanced so the recording sounds good…which is easier said than done sometimes. In most cases its like trying to put toothpaste back into the tube, because there can be so many options with all the knobs, faders and effects, though the most puzzling situation can be when there are so many options and they all sound rubbish, though this, when analysed, is most often attributed to the imbecile at the controls. Caveman was reasonable at mixing; he had enough practice and was now busily rattling off CD copies of the track that they had recorded that day. As he popped another CD into a paper sleeve, he said, “Guys, I have some more ideas and I am sure that you all will too. I think that we should have a get-together and listen through some of them with a view to doing a demo.” He handed the CD to Lungs who took it, smiled and softly said “Thanks.” Everyone agreed that the ideas session was a good one and the date was set for the following weekend. It was getting pretty late in the evening by now and Mark, looking at his watch said, “Hey, I think I better get going. I have work in the morning and it’s an early start.” He put his CD in his guitar case, closed it and did up all the latches. The day had been a success, not just in the recording department, but also in bonding them as friends. They didn’t notice, but the people they were when they had arrived at the house for the recording session, were not quite the same people they were now, in the sense that each of them had walked away with something that they had got from the others. They had slotted together so easily as people and this time, this band would be something that they would always remember, no matter where their futures took them. Mark said his goodbyes and left, followed by Neville a few minutes later. Lungs who stayed to have one last cup of tea, was chatting with Nerves while Caveman was making the tea in the kitchen. Eventually, Caveman appeared with the tea. “Bloody cat!” he spat. “What’s happened?” asked Nerves. “Oh nextdoor’s cat. I know I don’t have a huge garden here, but it was bad enough when he would come in and use it as his own personal toilet. Now he has taken to being sick in it. I just found it when I went out to empty the kitchen bin into the dustbin outside,” Caveman explained angrily. “Where was he sick?,” Nerves inquired. “On the grass near the dustbin.” responded Caveman. Lungs blushed, cringing inside, suddenly remembering the encounter with Caveman’s block of green cheese, and what had happened when she had gone outside to throw it away. She said nothing, and was quite happy to let nextdoor’s cat take the blame for it. Over the next few months the band had written, rehearsed and recorded some great songs and... err some embarrassing ones too. Those embarrassing ones are those you’re never sure of until you take a week or two and come back to listen to them and think... ‘naaaahhhh!!!, what a load of shite’ and end up putting them on the shelf just so dust has somewhere to live. During this time they had all become closer and closer as a bunch of friends, musicians and a band. It was agreed by everyone involved that this was the best band any of them had ever been in. Not just because of the professionalism but because of the friendship and respect between them. What became of those songs that were liked by everyone were chosen for a CD 10 songs out of 25, and those songs sent from Caveman’s home to a CD recording company who charges an extortionate amount of money to make 500 copies or 1000 copies depending on how many you think you might sell, or send off to managers hoping you could get that call of your life saying ”I am a record company and we like your music.” But the band knows - it’s not how good you are it’s who you know. And in this case, Caveman and Nerves knew the right people from 10 years ago, but it’s still hard to convince them you’re a good investment. But die hard musicians was what Caveman and Nerves were. ‘Never Give Up!’ was their motto. With the CD had to come a band name and so everyone came up with a list of suggestions and it had taken a few weeks for them to decide on something they all liked - StageGhost Within another two months two CD’s were made because the music was so strong that no-one could decide which would be better. They both got sent out to promoters and agencies in hope of getting gigs. It wasn’t too long until the phone calls started to come in. Gig offers from all over London and home counties. The first offer was a church fete and it was decided that a gig was a gig even if playing to a carpet or grass as an audience was not expected. Two weeks notice was given to the band for them to play once they had responded to the invitation, and so three full days of rehearsing was booked at Decrepid Studios prior to the fete. StageGhost had arrived at the church fete two hours early to find that there were actually five other bands playing during the afternoon and were each given forty-five minute slots. This excited everyone as it was not going to be an empty gig and there were other bands to watch. During the sound checks the headline band were playing through a song and the sound through the P A was appalling. When Caveman turned to see what the sound engineer was doing he seemed quite happy and just stood there watching the band. Caveman approached the mixing desk and asked if he could help. Expecting a negative response he was greatly accepted and was given plenty of room. Caveman with years of experience of doing this turned a few knobs, adjusted sliders and added a slight reverb for the vocal microphones. This made the band sound so much more professional and the rest of the bands were happy that someone at the controls was not a moron after all. The guy at the controls initially, turned out to be the vicar, “Thankyou so much for your help” he said smiling and shaking Cavman’s hand, “I called you two weeks ago and asked you to play because you’re a local band and I liked your CD.” Caveman smiled back “Where did you get our CD from?” he asked knowing full well that no-one in the band would have sent it to a vicar. “I was looking through some pop records at the local shop when they had it playing, I liked it and when I asked who it was, the chap behind the desk said it was a friend of his and his new band, so I bought one, I do like the heavy stuff too you know,” the vicar replied smiling. Caveman asked, “Who is the engineer for the bands?” “Sadly I hadn’t thought of that until I was faced with it myself and I am so thankfull you’re here to help,” replied the vicar. “and if you would excuse me I have to check on the tombola and the hotdog stand.” With that the vicar stepped down and left the mixing desk to Caveman. After all the sound checks the first band went on to play and were a pop act called ‘Boyz ‘n’ Dolls’, They were not really a band as they have never touched instruments in their lives. They could only hold a microphone and try to dance. They consisted of two boys and two girls who try to sing and dance to music written and recorded by someone else, and by hearing it you would have thought that they couldn’t play their instruments either. They were a bunch of sixteen year old ‘wanna-be’s’ who wouldn’t pass the first round of Talentless Factor on T.V. The second band were a bit better, they were called Sky Blue, They played pop music covers from the 90’s, and had cheap instruments. Although the sound was weak and they could only play basic chords, they had timing and held it together. Caveman and Mark agreed that the guitarist had never heard of muting. Muting is quite tricky when you first try to do it... by resting the ball part of your strumming hand half way between the bridge and the string or strings that you are strumming you get control over the strength of the notes. By doing this you can change the sound completely. Most hard rock and metal guitarists do this while their sound is distorted. The third band were called Fantasy Planet. They were another covers band playing recent pop hits. They were quite talented musicians and were a pleasure to watch. The fourth band were StageGhost. The first song started with just the drums thundering away on a fast 4,2 beat, then Mark came in with a pick slide and everything crashed into the first verse. Chugging an E chord while Lungs ripped into her singing... “When you’re looking for some action and the only reaction is to tone up and look the part” “Stay infront of your hopes and stay in front of your dreams or they’ll only turn into screams” The audience came closer to the stage and were enthralled by the power of the sound. The melody and vocals were a surprise for everyone as the bands that were on before were not very exciting at all and suddenly there was a professional band onstage. The first song finished with applause which gave the band more confidence as they really didn’t feel that their heavy metal music would be appreciated by fete goers. The rest of the forty-five minutes went very quickly and even though it was now getting late there had to be one more band to play. It turned out to be a rhythm and blues covers band influenced by a very popular musical movie called Car Chase Music. Another professional band including a brass section along with, drums, guitar, keyboards and two male singers. They held the audience captive too and were a very good finish to a church fete. At the end of the day Caveman and Lungs were approached by the vicar and another gentleman, “Well” said the vicar, “it’s been a successful day,” then paused before introducing a member of his congregation. “this is my good friend John Harrington the owner and director of Ice-Cap Records. “Hello, nice to meet you, err... Caveman is it?” John asked smiling while extending his right hand. “Yes it is,” responded Caveman, “and this is our wonderful, lovely, talented singer called Lungs”. Lungs smiled and also shook John’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” she said nervously as she shivered in the cool breeze that the sunset was pushing through. Just then Neville arrived putting Lungs’s jacket over her shoulders. She thanked him and proceeded to introduce him to John Harrington. “I’ll leave you to it then as I still have things to do,” said the Vicar and left the party. John Harrington invited the band StageGhost to a quiet part of the back stage area. “I enjoyed your performance,” he said, “do you have any more gigs booked?” Lungs getting all excited advanced “Yes we are scheduled to play at The Pigs Wings in Camden the day after tomorrow.” Caveman lifted one eyebrow and looked at Nerves. Nerves grinned and injected “oh yeah!, I forgot to tell you about that one”. Caveman looked at everyone else hoping he was not the only one ignorant of that fact and soon realised he was. “Good,” said John “I’ll see you there then, oh!, do you have a website?” “Yes,” replied caveman, “it’s myspace/deepbasspaul”. “Excellent, I’ll see you in a couple days.” And with that John walked away while making notes in his diary. Caveman winced, “When was anyone going to tell me about the gig at The Pigs Wings?” “Caveman, I am sure you forget things once in a while and you know you were going to find out about it in plenty of time,” said Neville. “Yeah, ok,” giggled Caveman, “We better get going, anyone fancy a cuppa?” And soon everyone was heading back to Caveman’s house. It was 11pm and tea accompanied by biscuits were brought in by Nerves and Neville while Mark sat playing on his nylon strung guitar, some Spanish flamenco. “Hey!,” said Neville, “Can I play along?”, and reached for his electric guitar and plugged it in. Soon they were jamming and Lungs, Nerves and Caveman just watched as these guitar maestro’s played. Mark with his flamenco and Neville hard rock soloing it sounded like a new song idea was coming together. Nerves got behind his electronic drum kit while Caveman switched on the computer and speakers. Lungs was smiling to herself thinking now she had to learn to sing in Spanish. Nerves knocked out a beat that worked well with the guitars and little did anyone know that it was all being recorded thanks to Caveman. Neville had played some very nice intricate notes with sweeps and harmonies that kept swaying in and out of the chords from Mark. Nerves had put in some very nice rhythms and fills that fit perfectly and it was all ad libbed. Half an hour later it all stopped and while Mark reached for a biscuit Caveman made copies of the jam for everyone and said, “Listen to this when you all wake up in the morning.” Lungs asked, “Why are you not excited about Mr. Harrington being interested in the band?” They all looked at each-other waiting for someone to give the same answer that they were all ready to give. It was Neville whom spoke, “After being in the professional music business for so long, you learn not to trust too many people, Its always nice to be approached by a record company, especially one as big as Ice-Cap Records, but it doesn’t give you that buzz anymore after you have experienced being shelved or messed around and ripped off.” Being shelved by a record company usually means that the record company have signed a band that sound like you and are as good as you, and have already been spending huge amounts of money on promoting them and now see your band as a threat and sign you up to stop that threat. They give you a record contract, pay for the recording studio and lie to you saying, “It’s good music just keep writing more, we need that special edge, keep writing, keep recording.” And when you realise that something is not right a year or so has passed and nothing has happened for your band. It’s all in the contract that most excited musicians are so keen to sign that they don’t read it. The bottom line is... YOU MUST READ THE CONTRACT. And with a contract offer, still don’t sign it unless in the presence of a solicitor after they had read it and liked it too. Also a good contract would have been negotiated with the band, with the band having a say in what happens and when. When the band and the record company agree on everything written, then both parties should get a copy each, and one for a solicitor. Feeling tired people started to leave Caveman’s house and as Lungs was the last to go he headed for his bed just as the door closed.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Jul 2013 14:05:36 +0000
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