Hannah had found an engineer/producer who was offering a good deal for a day's recording and this gave us the impetus to dip into our pockets and splash the cash. No crowdfunding, sourcing or begging here. Though if you want to buy us another day in the studio, I'll happily sleep with you or a loved one, a pet etc.. Is that how it works?
John joins blur. December 2015. Photo: Hannah Beaumont
So, on an overcast day in December, myself, John and Hannah found ourselves in one of those rickety mews courtyards tucked away in Hove, the type that people look at and say "it's like we're in Berlin". I.e. falling down and covered in graffiti, but in an arty way. I just love what they've done with the peeling green paint on splintered wooden door. Must get that for the kid's playroom.
Josh was the sound man in more ways than one. He seemed young and on the ball: the opposite of us in fact. He said he'd been recording since he was 14. I was tempted to answer "Oh, two years then" but that would have been deeply patronising, My Beautiful Intelligent Readers Of This Blog. To be fair Josh worked us hard and efficiently and felt able to direct us too, mainly by telling me to keep away from the shaker.
Over the previous few months we'd been rehearsing five songs: Where Do We Go From Here?, Pity, In Sun Bled Yellow, Feet of Clay and Slow Down. They were a combination of old and new tunes, with the last two being from right at the dawn of time, Ordeal wise, before John and I had embarked on a string of female singers desperately wanting to find family related excuses to avoid actual regular rehearsing and performing.
Hannah strung out. December 2015. Photo: Nick McMaster
Though the foundations were much the same as before with John or me writing the music and me on the lyrics, Hannah has wonderfully created combinations of bass, cello, keyboard, glock and vocal harmony parts to build upon the type of song writing compositions we had started to work on In Sun Bled Yellow with last-but-one-singer Sam. I.e. with more complex and dynamic structures that moved us away from John's singer-songwriter approach and my simple pop style. Simple pop style? Sounds like an old bluesman. Simple Pop Style sings his latest hit "Yo Mama Gone Left Me For God". Anyway, I digress. Hannah has enabled us to jump up another level.
What has also pushed us on was the purchase of a Casiotone 405 keyboard, an 80's classic (much like Hannah) bought mainly because it has a lovely wooden effect veneer finish. It was bought from our pal - and local folk hero - Mark from The Self Help Group, who reluctantly gave it up because it was hard to syncopate with the built-in beats. He probably also liked the lovely wooden veneer effect finish too. It is really nice. Although limited, because many of it's options just aren't all that (no, not Mark, the keyboard. He's top) it did seem to expand our horizons. I think the Casiotone has become a part of the conversation when it comes to structuring a song in a way, say, the glocks aren't. By that I mean the keyboard is considered each time, even if eventually it is not used on the track. And did I mention the lovely wooden veneer effect finish?
Nick being frank as Chairman of the (Key) Board. December 2015. Photo: Hannah Beaumont
So back to the main mews item: Homesick Studios. Both John and Hannah had experience of recording, whereas I was wet behind the ears. However, despite their seen-it-all-before world weariness, they didn't make the canny decision to bring their slippers. Though only I made anything of that, the fools. Perhaps that is why I ended up in the little 'air lock', not because of the loudness of my uke (the official reason), but because I had comfortable feet (the conspiracy theory reason).
The studio was just about swing-a-cat-able, but one would have felt more comfortable spinning around with a gerbil or even a hamster, on account of the latter's shorter tail. No animal was swung by the way, RSPCA.
Nick reflecting on a job well done. December 2015. Photo: Nick McMaster
This meant that our intention of recording as live was dead in the water, as the studio was not big enough to have us all in together without each instrument being picked up by everyone else's microphone. So we recorded in the more traditional but time consuming manner of separating instruments and vocals. The result? We only laid down two and a half tracks rather than the hoped for four to five. Quality wise we also hoped for a sell at gigs product, but after listening to some very rough cuts, we probably have more of an old school demo that we can give out for free. Still, pretty pleased with our first crack at recording.
In hindsight we were perhaps naïve about what we could achieve, but we learnt a lot, which in no particular order was:
1. Slippers definitely help.
2. A ukulele is proportionally the loudest instrument in the world. Ever.
3. Bring bog roll.
4. Don't have the slightest cold if you can avoid it.
5. You can never mug it up enough in the Phil Collins' manner in studio based photos.
6. Eating baguettes can be picked up by mics three meters away.
7. You can't help feeling a little bit cool.
8. It would probably cost around two grand to record an album if you are hiring the studio and technician.
9. Leave your shoes at the door, not your ego.
10. Bring slippers.
So, in the encroaching winter darkness we left the studio after a long day for a rewarding half pint in the local boozer - parking restrictions ruining our hoped for Lemmy-style shenanigans - and the need to return to finish vocals on one track the next day.
Sound guy. The Sweet Ordeal with Josh. December 2015. Photo: Nick McMaster
Josh managed to put together some rudimentary mixes which show how far we have come as a band as a relatively new three piece, and how far we could go. Here's looking forward to seeing where that 'go' will take us.
Now, about that two grand. Any lonely pets out there?
