Ah well, back to old NY for another week of pretending. Spent 55 hours of the weekend in Detroit - just enough for a lotta practice, a little group therapy, another lotta recording and sound sculpting. Highlight: 6 of us back together in one room recording. Higher Light: Betty Marie, Trevor and I [Tara passed out on sofa] watching the video for Rod Stewart's Tonight I'm Yours at 5am Sunday morning. Lowlight: Cops busting up two un-fun house parties. Cops. It was, um, how do you say in American... stupid I guess. Lowest Light: A 6:30am flight back to make work on time... feeling a bit furry as a result ~ Gene
PS - Learned how to cup my strings real good. Like pro. Earned nick-name of Captain Cup'em.
I could still sense the gritty musk left by young Burgundy from his latest stint in the Workshop as I entered. Whether from his age or from some late night flitting around the city, Burgy tends to get tired swiftly and this past night of recording we didn't lock up the studio until after 2am. The boy was pushed to be a man and boy did he make this man proud. I was so inspired by his crafty, sing-songy bass line that it made me wanna erase the electric guitar bits I recorded well over a fortnight ago. So that's just what I did. I cranked up the RAR recording system, located my tracks, and without thought clicked delete. I grabbed a borrowed 40+ year old Harmony semi-hollowbody guitar, plugged it into my brother-in-law's VibroChamp, set up a close and a far mic, and went right to it. Burgy's bouyant bass liberated my normally stiff conception of what a rhythm guitar track (one that has the rather adult responsibility to maintain the song's chord progression) should do. I found that if the bass decided to build a lil' melodic staircase after a vocal phrase, my guitar was all to eager to climb up it and slide down it's banister. I actually had quite a bit of fun recording the parts! Normally, I will beat myself into submission, torturing myself with the idea that if I record just one more take...this one could be absolutely perfect. Perhaps I just need a lil' Burgy musk before each session to calm me down...
Well, we're through channeling the ghost of Trevor Bolder - though he isn't dead. He looks pretty nasty & melted, though, from what I saw on that T Rex documentary T Naud brought over the night I was researching He-Man on the internet. In any event, Caz says to call it 'glam' is to do it a disservice. It's better than glam. It's...un-glam? I'm all acrobatic on it, doing flips & twists I didn't know I had in me. It's got history written all over it & in it. I'm excited.