2nd Blue Rock Session, DAY 6

Monday, February 20, 2012








Started off the day the way I usually do- 8AM groggy shuffle into the warm kitchen where Dodee's already up and has a fresh pot of coffee waiting. Grab coffee and say hi to Chris M., who's surprisingly a morning person (he gets up and makes himself an omelet every morning).

Back to the bathroom, where I call my Cris with Google Talk, answer the one or two really pressing emails, take a shower, get dressed, do something with my massive wad of hair.

Then back to the kitchen for a quick bowl of Lucky Charms before we get started.

We spent the morning working on "Moving On," a train song that I co-wrote with none other than the undeniable Miss Megan Burtt.

It's incredible how well the guys are getting this song. Before Billy plays each scratch guitar and vocal for the guys for the first time, and hands out the charts, he asks "Grace, do you want to say anything about this one?" I usually say no- not because I don't have anything to say, but because I think usually the song says it better (that's why I write songs) and also because I want these guys' pure, unfiltered first impressions and ideas.

Billy and I didn't just bring them in to be players- like those hot shots in Nashville who crack their knuckles, assemble your songs into 1s, 4s, and 5s and proceed to lay down the expertly executed and expected.

Nope. Not at Blue Rock. We don't just want these guys for their skills- we want their ideas. Every one of them has creativity coming out of his ears.

Kevin reminds me of my brother George. And by that, I mean he reminds me of every man in the Pettis family, to the nth degree. He's a ball of fire! So many, many ideas rolling through his head like a river. The hard part is knowing which one to pick, grooming it, giving it room to take root. I love every single thing he plays.

Chris M. is steady but soulful. He never overplays. Every note is needed. Every one is vital. I don't what else to say. It's that simple and awesome. Like a heartbeat.

Rick's a machine. Sometimes I think I could just listen to his drums groove for hours. He's 100% in the pocket, 100% of the time. You can just fall into those grooves and stay there all day. And you have the feeling that if the song didn't have an ending, he'd just go on and on indefinitely.

And he's funny! Good Lord. This morning he relayed a road trip anecdote from his travels with Slaid Cleaves to Daran and me. The Scottish tour manager wants them to take the highway but Slaid has a GPS. He insists on taking the seemingly quicker route, through the winding backroads. They do, and soon come across a herd of sheep stretched out leisurely across the road. They can't get through and they can't turn around. All the sudden, it gets worse. It's some kind of harvest fest or something similar and the local men (probably sheep herders) come out of a nearby building, completely blitzed. The herd of herders swarms the van like something out of a zombie movie, eyes glazed, skin sweaty, unintelligible sounds issuing from drooling lips. (That's what I pictured when Rick was telling this story.) They're trying to get in to the van but the band's keeping seatbelts on, doors locked.

The route via highway and main roads have taken 1 and 1/2 hours. "How long did the backroads route end up taking?" asked Daran. "4 and 1/2 hours," says Rick. And then when they got to the venue, the promoter was standing by the door, tapping his watch. Promoter says indignantly to the Scottish tour manager: "What happened to you guys?" Scottish tour manager: "Yank had a GPS."

Hilarious. Rick should really start writing this stuff down, so the rest of us don't have to. It's way better when he tells it.

Got waylaid from my original intention for this entry - little character sketches of each of the guys. Onward-

Daran: Daran's so articulate on his instrument. Every line song's like a melody, like a voice. Even if it's not really bringing attention to itself. I'm really glad Daran's playing on this album. We're going for a pop sound in so many of these tracks, but not a cliche pop sound. We need an electric guitar player that does something slightly out of the ordinary with the instrument because it's a sound that's so familiar. Daran does that. He rocks hard, or wails, or grooves, but never becomes a cartoon of himself. Always something original.

Billy and Bradley man the control room. Bradley's got a knack for hearing little details that turn out to be vitally important. Billy's got the ears for the big picture. He knows who should be playing the groove and who should be adding the personality- whether it's sweetness, meanness, sadness, or whimsy. He gets me, gets the song, gets the feeling that the vocal implies and knows how to meet its needs with the other instruments, with the tempo, the dynamics, etc. He knows what the songs need before I do, usually.

They relate all that stuff to each other in a funny language of ism, acronyms, letters and numbers. "Goose necks," "figure 8s," "echo boy," etc. They rattle off names of mics and other gadgets - they sound like the names of automatic weapons.

I feel as if I'm in a country with a language I only have a limited proficiency in. I hang back, listening, wanting to participate and communicate, but not willing to show off my obvious ignorance to do it.

...

"Murder of Crows": This may be the best song we've recorded so far. The arrangement is perfect. I'm really happy with it.

You won't be shocked to hear that it's another Team Burpettis song. Something about writing with Megan Burtt brings out a brashness in my writing that I don't seem to be able or willing to explore on my own. It's so fun writing with Megan.

Singing this song is fun too. I get to be another person for three and 1/2 minutes.

The band is sounding amazing. Everyone knows just what to play, where to put it and when. They've given this song an incredible groove, mood, feel, whatever you want to call it. Makes me wonder if I'm going to like playing these songs alone anymore. I am addicted to having a band.

Billy says, "You play all the gigs between here and the sold out stadium by yourself and we'll meet you there."

Yep. Makes me bound and determined to get better at this - to get heard. I want to play with a band that's this good.

I only get them for 3 days this time. I've got to earn the privilege of playing with guys like this more often than that.

Did I mention that I love everything about the way "Murder of Crows" is sounding? Too many things I like to list them all but especially - the chords of the bridge w/ all the instruments.

One idea for an intro: Those chords played just in the high register of the keys. Sounds like an Edward Gorey cartoon looks (creepy as all get out) and leaves the listener completely unprepared when the first verse comes sauntering in.

I'm trying to use my voice to this song's advantage. It's really written for a gruff, whiskey and gravel kind of guy (at least in my head, it is). I've got these sweet, clear tones to work with instead. So we're trying to juxtapose that with the grittiness and badassness of the other instruments. If I can keep the vocal breathy, even, indifferent sounding, it's almost creepier than a harsh vocal. It's like the difference between how a shark attack is scary and how a sociopath is scary. I can't make my voice do shark, but I can make it sound sociopathic. Weird to go there. But getting in character is really important when it comes to telling the story. And I have to admit - it's a lot of fun being someone else for a song.

...

We just recorded "Here in My Heart," which is in critical need of a new title. I don't even say the title line that way anymore. I leave out the 1st word - "here" - and without that word it's an insipid title ("In My Heart"). Can you say, painfully cliche? Maybe I should just call it that. :-)

The problem is, without the context of the cool intricate lyrics in the verses, the chorus is nothing but cliche. So, no phrases from the chorus really work as titles. I don't know what to do about it. Billy says he has some ideas... [This song was eventually retitled- "Love You Staked Your Claim." I never was totally happy with any title we came up with.]

Anyway, back to recording. This one really surprised us all by how uniquely beautiful it became. I was thinking it was going to sound like just your average run-of-the-mill love song.

Switching gears from "Murder of Crows" turned out to be easy as pie for the guys, who instantly went into delicate, sweet, pretty mode. LIke they changed into their Sunday bests. I couldn't believe the same instruments could sound so different.

The real gem happened when Daran and Kevin found a beautiful descending melodic line. The keys and electric guitar both playing in a high register, similar long, warm resonating tones so they melded together into one thing. It was liquid lovely - sounded to me like drops of gold making ripples. (I know that metaphor is beyond cheesy. Yes, I do put words on paper for a living. I mean, geez. I apologize. But it's the only thing I can think of to describe the sound. I guess this is why you really need to hear it.)

I think I'll dedicate this one to Cris on the album, since he was so much in my mind when I was writing it. It's also a lot about Jesus, actually. (Funny how those two loves sort of become one feeling in me.)

Had a nightmare last night, speaking of The Boy. I somehow got separated from him in vast, underground mall in Germany or Austria or somewhere similar. I was frantically begging teenage shoppers for their cell phones so that I could call him and find out where he was. But everyone was mean to me - no one would give me a cell phone. Finally, someone relented. I was able to reach him and find out where he was.

Looking at the "You Are Here" map mounted on the hallway wall, I realized that I was miles away from him. I would have to walk. In a security video monitor on the wall that showed different parts of the mall, I could see a video feed of Cris slumped against the wall, crying. It was heartbreaking.

I walked miles and miles until I did manage to get to him. (Glad I made it before I woke up) "Did you think I'd stand you up?" I asked him when we'd reunited, because all the sudden it was our wedding day. "No," he said, and smiled. "I knew you'd never do that to me."

17 days until I get to see my Boy.

(I'm pretty sure this dream is a manifestation of separation anxiety and guilt.)

...

Last song of the evening - "Halley's Comet." This song almost didn't make the cut. Not because we don't love it.

But it's so intensely personal that Billy and I were initially afraid that there wouldn't be room for any creative modifications. After spending twenty odd years writing and rewriting this song until it said exactly what I wanted it to say, exactly the way I need to say it, I wasn't prepared for any major modifications.

But eventually, Billy and I both decided that we needed to record it. It's one of the best songs I've ever written: seems to be consistently universal in ways that surprise me, given how personal it is.

So we decided it was worth diving into. High maintenance as it is, it feels essential.

...

I should mention- day was Chris M.'s birthday! Dodee made him a cake and we all sang "Happy Birthday." But I don't need to describe it to you. I've got it all on video. Chris got a birthday boy sized portion, which hopefully won't make him lethargic for the rest of the night. :-)

Dodee's dark chocolate cake with almond cream cheese frosting = deadly for late night recording sessions. But worth it. Totally worth it.

...

Update: The guys have totally figured out "Halley's Comet." Billy had the genius idea of getting rid of my jangly guitar part and replacing it with an elegant, soft, dark, spare acoustic piano part. Suddenly, the whole song has opened up. So much room now for the vocal to soar.

So much room now for the vocal to soar, if you'll pardon the metaphor.  Pun unintended.  The guys are currently "painting the night sky," as Billy puts it.  A little twinkly high notes here and there, like stars.  A whole lot of dark grey blue twilight with moody, brooding chords.  And space- endless space.  Celestial comet noises from Daran's guitar. 

I love the ending they've put together - soft understated chords fall steady into the groove of the progression, getting louder/stronger.  Comet noises sail over it all and then the whole thing dissapates into the Comet's tail, trailing off and ending the song.