Mixing ‘Almost Home’
It’s ten o’clock. I’m sitting here in boxers. My eyeballs ache from contact lenses. I haven’t eaten dinner yet, and I’m considering skipping it alltogether. It’s raining out. Queens of the Stone Age are wailing in melodic dischord on iTunes (aka WBEN), “It’s just another love song.” Indeed.
I just came in from the livingroom to build out a quick Future Legend web page for my new friends Paul and Greta over there at Hell’s Kitchen’s newest and finest record shop. I was stoked when I saw ’em building it, and stepped in as soon as I saw ’em open. I welcomed them to the neighborhood with a fistful of free CDs, they hooked me with a cool t, and we chatted. Ends up Paul knows my co-worker Michelle (head of MTV Radio), so we kvetched about how cool she is, how cool her boyfriend is — he and I ride from time to time — etc etc etc. The next day Michelle tells me it’s been his life-long dream, which is pretty cool. I like to do what I can to support those. So I thought they could use an iota of web presence, so here it is. More soon, perhaps. If not, and you’re in the Kitchen (aka 10019) and wanna’ support to ma n’ pop type shops instead of those corporate monoliths, check ’em out. Good peoples.
So as I was saying, I just came in from the living room where I was listening to my new recordings (the ‘Almost Home’ working title seems to be sticking). You probably don’t realize just how many hours of work goes into the average album. I imagine Radiohead easily spends a thousand hours recording and mixing. Ditto a Coldplay, or U2, or whomever. And now that I’ve set the bar pretty high with ‘Crash Site,’ I wanna’ deliver the same lush sonic landscape. On one tenth of the budget.
So I was working out guitar parts. I have lots of ideas for multiple acoustic guitars, lead lines, and solos. Thing is, I’m pretty limited in my capabilities. So the question becomes, who do I tap to play those parts? I think it’s time to haul Paul Grassini back into the mix. Paul started playing with me just as I was finishing ‘Crash Site.’ He’s a fine second guitarist: tasteful, usually simple. I hate overplaying, and blues scales, and general Led Zeppelin-type wanking, so tasteful and simple are key. So, maybe it’s time to blow in a call to him.
That said, musicians aren’t free, and, having spent the better part of the morning in the dentist’s chair, I’m fairly anxious abuot the remainder of my Q3-4 Budget. (That’s a joke. I don’t budget. I should.) See, I have these three holes in my head where my baby teeth used to be. And I have titanium posts screwed into my skull that need filling with $1800 teeth. Bane of my existence: teeth. The brief 30-year history: 5 pulled when I was 10, 7 years of braces and retainers, followed by two bridges which were immediately trashed by one well-placed punch from the captain of the football team that broke and dislocated my jaw in four places, which led to six weeks of being wired shut, and two skin grafts. Ten years pass. Last year I had three pulled, and now the implants. Gettin’ the picture? There’s not enough Vicodin in the world.
Anyhow, I have lotsa’ ideas, plans and commitments: a new CD, a tour, a msuci video DVD (I haven’t even mentioned that yet), a documentary (I wrote Mrs. Rogers last week and hope to see her in Nantucket over Labor Day weekend). Oh, and a job at a major media company. It’s gonna’ be allgood. And my smile will be better. So stay tuned.
