Instead, I got my own, ground-to-a-halt recording ball rolling again, drafting in my trombonist-cousin Alan, he of first-album song, “Millions” fame. On the last day of January 2019, he came to the marvellous Blague Central Studio and in short order, delivered umpteen takes of a handful of parts I’d written for song numbers 1 (“Uncomplimentary”) and 2 (“Fleecing The Easily Pleased”) then, after a family catchup chat over a staunch cafetiere-ful, added a couple of delightful free solos.
Given that he’s a seasoned, big-band Jazzer, a sight-reader, used to turning up and playing live after minimal or no rehearsals, I shouldn’t be so amazed, but it was both a joy and relief that it went so well, especially after my extreme preparation for his visit, churning out a couple of dozen sheets of good-old printed “dots” music score, as well as taking the time to learn the parts myself, the better to talk them through, should it be needed.
(Back-in-the-day, both as a studio engineer and a paying client, I’ve had to cut sessions short when either I or fellow musicians needed to go away and learn/practise tunes we were supposed to be recording).
Despite the prep. and my new, ready-to-go studio setup (here, Neumann U87 mic. via TL Audio valve compressor and Focusrite Scarlett box, recorded in Logic) I still took a moment to notice how shocked and delighted I was at the ease and speed take after take could be racked up, decisions made, new tracks & parts selected and loose ends tied-up.
This was the first time I’d heard any of these melodies live-in-the-room; music that for over a year (since I wrote the songs) had existed exclusively in my head. The buzz was palpable; that elusive Studio Magic had returned after a long absence.
I was kneeling on the floor, below the mixing desk, so that between takes I could adjust both the mic. stand position and the TL Audio’s input gain and it occurred to me around this time, how splendid it would be to capture some footage of this Magic, as it happened, for promo video/photo/design purposes.
50 years ago this month, as the Beatles shrugged off the final tracks that would eventually mulch into the Let It Be album, on the other side of Earth, Neil and Edwin were training hard for the upcoming Apollo 11 trip. Once on the lunar surface, they planned to swap the Hasselblad stills camera between them, each taking their own, pre-planned photos. Whilst there would be many, now-classic shots of Buzz, Neil would appear in only one or two, by accident. This is my favourite.
Crouching down there, quickly flipping between REC, STOP and “Add new track”, I was not about to interrupt the mood of the session by suddenly whipping out the iPhone and snapping away. I understood this was a moment simply to be enjoyed and not necessarily captured. I’m guessing Neil wasn’t too bothered either.
