Let me tell you a story of the most difficult, stressful ,and tedious activity known to mankind. It's called Professional Music Recording. Long and painful is the road of the recording artist. Since we have gotten the interest of record labels the next step on the evolutionary ladder to super rock stardom is the fucking record. Or better known to it's friends as the fucking CD.
Picture yourself locked in a room the size of an average bedroom. Like the one you had in college if you went. With a pair of head phones strapped to your head so when you move they won't fall off; with the intent of playing a song that the whole of the planet could potentially be listening to. I love the pressure. Yeah right the same way I'd love to smack my self in the toes with a hammer. And that was just the Bass Guitar. I played for 25 hours straight! No Sleep and no Drugs. I was seeing shit by the 20th hour. With grit and purple finger tips(because Bass picks are for pussies) I finished that album.
The Next abomination is the vocals. If you think singing in a band is cool you are clearly not the singer of a band. Granted advantages it has but, the good is overpowered by the bad. Actually you have to stand back in fucking awe of how difficult and stressful it is. Living in Hollywood you hear a lot of suck ass bands. Most are filled with good musicians and a shit ton of awful singers. You see the same thing everytime. Partially good looking human specimen (constantly sharp or flat.) Some times you would be led to believe that the goal of the Vocalist was to try to hit every key but the one the bloody song is in. Here is where the other type of Vocalist comes it. The ones who realize that it's not what you wear it's how you sound, the sincerity. The ones who bring you to tears with their cleverly thought, out easily indentifiable account of all our lives. Practice makes perfect. But since the wise tell us none are perfect, practice makes you not another Suckass Hollywood Fashion Show Dipshit trying to sing.
Next week I get to run the Gauntlet. Against twenty thousand Dollars of Studio Microphones and I will be the one who walks out alive.
To the few friends that I have here I want to say thanks. Even though we don't talk very much, in my mind it makes me feel a bit better to have told my pains to good people who with a click of their finger were gracious enough to add my to their list of intangible friends.
Just the idea that you are there is awesome to me. Oceans of love.
Picture yourself locked in a room the size of an average bedroom. Like the one you had in college if you went. With a pair of head phones strapped to your head so when you move they won't fall off; with the intent of playing a song that the whole of the planet could potentially be listening to. I love the pressure. Yeah right the same way I'd love to smack my self in the toes with a hammer. And that was just the Bass Guitar. I played for 25 hours straight! No Sleep and no Drugs. I was seeing shit by the 20th hour. With grit and purple finger tips(because Bass picks are for pussies) I finished that album.
The Next abomination is the vocals. If you think singing in a band is cool you are clearly not the singer of a band. Granted advantages it has but, the good is overpowered by the bad. Actually you have to stand back in fucking awe of how difficult and stressful it is. Living in Hollywood you hear a lot of suck ass bands. Most are filled with good musicians and a shit ton of awful singers. You see the same thing everytime. Partially good looking human specimen (constantly sharp or flat.) Some times you would be led to believe that the goal of the Vocalist was to try to hit every key but the one the bloody song is in. Here is where the other type of Vocalist comes it. The ones who realize that it's not what you wear it's how you sound, the sincerity. The ones who bring you to tears with their cleverly thought, out easily indentifiable account of all our lives. Practice makes perfect. But since the wise tell us none are perfect, practice makes you not another Suckass Hollywood Fashion Show Dipshit trying to sing.
Next week I get to run the Gauntlet. Against twenty thousand Dollars of Studio Microphones and I will be the one who walks out alive.
To the few friends that I have here I want to say thanks. Even though we don't talk very much, in my mind it makes me feel a bit better to have told my pains to good people who with a click of their finger were gracious enough to add my to their list of intangible friends.
Just the idea that you are there is awesome to me. Oceans of love.
VIEW 20 of 20 COMMENTS
honeychile007:
It was just awful. I think you should take me for a drink soon to get over the trauma of hitting a parked car.
honeychile007:
It was only two blocks. For some odd reason I was up at 8:30 the next morn, and didn't fall back asleep despite my efforts. I made up for it last night though. I was asleep by 9pm. Just out cold. And I slept.