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Okay, so night before yesterday we stayed up till nearly 6 messing with guitars (Seth played '39 and I sang it into the mic; mics are weird) and talking (Seth fell asleep on my shoulder at about 4:30 and it still hurts). Grant kept threatening to make me ad lib some words for riffs he wants to turn into songs, so in the middle of the night (morning, really) I woke up after half an hour of sleep and asked him if he was still awake and did he have a piece of paper. He did.
In order to avoid future threats of ad lib, I wrote down a verse of very strange and random words starting with the two lines I told Reggie would be good for a rock song.
So they saw them the next... afternoon (yesterday when we woke up), and thought they were cool. We went to Guitar Center, but they didn't have anything worthwhile, because the new year's stock wasn't in yet. So we came back and started messing with the computer. I opened a program I had never played with yet, thinking, hm! Garageband. That seems like a good thing to look at while I'm here. So then suddenly Seth had the paper full of words and we were writing a song. He plugged his guitar into an amp and the amp into the audio line-in on my laptop, and tada! we had a solo guitar track. It sucked, and we deleted it later, but man...
So, twelve hours of work later, we have a track with Grant on bass, two with Seth on rhythm guitar and a guide for a solo (Andrew, probably), a canned drum track that we tweaked until it actually sounds really good, and a really awful vocal track that I only recorded so I could remember the tune next morning and do it again for real. I went to bed complaining about the break in my gum for my last wisdom tooth, and we had just been talking about Mormons (don't ask), so the working title is "Jesus Put the Teeth In Your Mouth." It has nothing to do with that subject, don't worry. There's one verse and a chorus, and in the middle of the night last night I came up with another verse, and then they want a bridge and another chorus and then it will be done. Look out, it's going to be Spectrum's #1 hit single when I get back to Houston and record Andrew and Reggie with solos and fills and piano vamps.
It's a little whiny and metal, but I can deal with it for now. I have been thoroughly introduced, if not indoctrinated, to the contemporary rock scene. Grant and Seth know a frightening amount about what's going on and how it's all done and what pedals to buy to sound like Pink Floyd. So we wrote a song that was a compromise. So far it goes:
The jewels in the grass, they simply melt beneath my feet
and the state of mind in current vogue is lather rinse, repeat
You can save the whales, fight the foes,
right the wrongs, recount the woes,
but the dew will still be dampening my toes
and the boys will still be fighting in the street
(chorus)
Time to take your turn
against the poor
and time to learn
about the ones who spent their lives coming before
give a little space
the mindless race
would appreciate a little more
a little grace
beyond the shore
in every face the world erases any cure
The gold and copper sheen has always fallen from the trees
and the patrons of a restaurant insincerely tell you "please"
You can cure the plague, break the grip,
build the projects, raise the ship,
But the girls will still be on their shopping trip
and the lawyers will still estimate their fees
So that was what I did all night yesterday. And then some more in the middle of the morning.
After I woke up to write that second verse this morning, I fell back asleep. Seth had mentioned that today we ought to get up early and go to the thrift store. I have been to more than my share of stores this trip, but I won't complain. I don't have to go. I go for the company. Yes. Anyway, he woke up at 7:30 and forgot we wanted to get up, so he went back to sleep. At 11:30, he remembered. We went, but not early.
I now have a small bronze urn and three pairs of corduroy pants in sizes huge-baggy, medium-low, and stretchy. They are dark grey, light grey, and pale purple. Boys' pants rule. They have real pockets. I spent ten dollars.
We will do a bridge and another chorus today, and I will spend HOURS AND HOURS making the stupid vocal track sound acceptable because I suck at singing rock and singers always take forever anyway because they are the ones you listen to so they have to be as close to perfect as possible.
In order to avoid future threats of ad lib, I wrote down a verse of very strange and random words starting with the two lines I told Reggie would be good for a rock song.
So they saw them the next... afternoon (yesterday when we woke up), and thought they were cool. We went to Guitar Center, but they didn't have anything worthwhile, because the new year's stock wasn't in yet. So we came back and started messing with the computer. I opened a program I had never played with yet, thinking, hm! Garageband. That seems like a good thing to look at while I'm here. So then suddenly Seth had the paper full of words and we were writing a song. He plugged his guitar into an amp and the amp into the audio line-in on my laptop, and tada! we had a solo guitar track. It sucked, and we deleted it later, but man...
So, twelve hours of work later, we have a track with Grant on bass, two with Seth on rhythm guitar and a guide for a solo (Andrew, probably), a canned drum track that we tweaked until it actually sounds really good, and a really awful vocal track that I only recorded so I could remember the tune next morning and do it again for real. I went to bed complaining about the break in my gum for my last wisdom tooth, and we had just been talking about Mormons (don't ask), so the working title is "Jesus Put the Teeth In Your Mouth." It has nothing to do with that subject, don't worry. There's one verse and a chorus, and in the middle of the night last night I came up with another verse, and then they want a bridge and another chorus and then it will be done. Look out, it's going to be Spectrum's #1 hit single when I get back to Houston and record Andrew and Reggie with solos and fills and piano vamps.
It's a little whiny and metal, but I can deal with it for now. I have been thoroughly introduced, if not indoctrinated, to the contemporary rock scene. Grant and Seth know a frightening amount about what's going on and how it's all done and what pedals to buy to sound like Pink Floyd. So we wrote a song that was a compromise. So far it goes:
The jewels in the grass, they simply melt beneath my feet
and the state of mind in current vogue is lather rinse, repeat
You can save the whales, fight the foes,
right the wrongs, recount the woes,
but the dew will still be dampening my toes
and the boys will still be fighting in the street
(chorus)
Time to take your turn
against the poor
and time to learn
about the ones who spent their lives coming before
give a little space
the mindless race
would appreciate a little more
a little grace
beyond the shore
in every face the world erases any cure
The gold and copper sheen has always fallen from the trees
and the patrons of a restaurant insincerely tell you "please"
You can cure the plague, break the grip,
build the projects, raise the ship,
But the girls will still be on their shopping trip
and the lawyers will still estimate their fees
So that was what I did all night yesterday. And then some more in the middle of the morning.
After I woke up to write that second verse this morning, I fell back asleep. Seth had mentioned that today we ought to get up early and go to the thrift store. I have been to more than my share of stores this trip, but I won't complain. I don't have to go. I go for the company. Yes. Anyway, he woke up at 7:30 and forgot we wanted to get up, so he went back to sleep. At 11:30, he remembered. We went, but not early.
I now have a small bronze urn and three pairs of corduroy pants in sizes huge-baggy, medium-low, and stretchy. They are dark grey, light grey, and pale purple. Boys' pants rule. They have real pockets. I spent ten dollars.
We will do a bridge and another chorus today, and I will spend HOURS AND HOURS making the stupid vocal track sound acceptable because I suck at singing rock and singers always take forever anyway because they are the ones you listen to so they have to be as close to perfect as possible.
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