Saturday, February 28, 2009

Day 293

the mountains were dark and cold as we pulled onto the highway. the convenience store must have been open only a short while and we left it clutching hot cups of coffee at a few minutes after six in the morning. the accordion and a few guitars are in the trunk of the van. montana here we come.

there's something about johnny cash. he doesn't sound 'too country' or, more so, we couldn't decide on the exact overall quality of his voice and sound that made him timeless. we gave up trying to figure out what makes a legend and let cash rattle on about the places he's been which, evidently, turns out to be everywhere, and soon the sky started blueing over top of dormant peaks. montana recording studio here we come.

is this the right place? are we at the wrong place? this is a house. what? downstairs and around back? okay.

luke came to the door at the side of the basement. thin. dark hair. glasses. earrings. late twenties, we later guessed. he led us inside to another door outside of a drywall and stud wall.


the landscape changed. two toned hardwood floors. maroon walls. black foamy ceiling. guitars, basses, mandolins, posters, amps, lights, and microphones hung from and stood along the wall. a hammond organ. in the corner next to the drum alcove was a dark wooden desk with crates and crates of analogue recording gear. decks. the board. sprouts and sprouts of colored cables. this place is for real.

i think it was eight thirty a.m. we continued the relationship first conceived via craigslist and began to plug in and tune. the rhythm track of drums, bass, keyboard, and some guitar were finished. soon, jeremy made it clear he intended to redo every guitar part and overdub vocals. we'll be here a while. and we were.

an analogue system is much like 35mm film photography and is becoming a lost art to the digital age of pro tools and computer settings. luke told me that once he gets some more money he'll eventually buy a mac and protools and switch. he told me this is a drawn out, kind of trailing tone. he wasn't too ready for the switch. he's used to old school analogue.

the goal for the day as outlined by him was three songs. ep. it could be done, i thought, as long as we don't spend eternity on details. we could end up here forever.

i walked down to burger king after the initial tracks were laid to pick us up some burgers. on the walk back i knew i was a sitting duck when he saw me walking with a sack of food. the homeless man's name was joe. so is mine, i told him. he was surprised and thankful for a junior whopper. he said to say thanks to the rest of the band as well.

a few hours later we looked outside and the sun was almost gone. was it a few hours? what time is it?
we left with the substantial, albeit easiest, amount of work finished for this day one. what a better way to celebrate but head to the mongolian bbq. twelve dollars gave an all you can eat meat and noodle and vegetable and spice stir fry buffet. a couple hours later there were a few of the waitresses around our table trying to help us pick a new band name. they didn't help too much, however.

melody, one of our montana friends, had arranged place for us to stay that night. our drummer dion had gone back to fernie for work so ian, jeremy, and i went up the mountain apartment and flipped coin to see who got the fold out couch bed or the bed upstairs. even though i ended up winning, we all found that ian talks in his sleep. heavy australian accent. "aye, aye, thanks mate. thanks buddy. aye aye."

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