Pretending To Be Bowie

I've finally started getting a professionally mixed demo together.  It took me a long time to get going on it because I was a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of going solo.  Fortunately, I was able to connect with a musician that lives downstairs.  I'll call this guy The Studio Musician.

This is a guy that rarely comes out of his room.  I didn't really know about him until The Poet met him on the smoker's corner one day and suggested I collaborate with him.  I was nervous at first because he is primarily a jazz musician, but he's actually perfect for the job.  He's got a whole recording studio set up in his apartment and he plays multiple instruments.  He's got a big burly beard, wears the same hat everyday, and has an adorable pet cat.  He also has a "Clerks" poster hanging in his studio.  "Clerks" was a movie that I used to quote a lot with my old band, so it seemed a good omen of sorts. 

A couple weeks ago, I gave him a rough track of one of my songs.  He created guitar and bass parts for it and is working on drums.  I was amazed when I heard it.  It sounded like a real song by a real band!  A pretty bad ass song too, if I do say so myself.  It starts out with piano, organ, and acoustic guitar, but then the chorus rolls around and the electric kicks in.  Just thinking about it makes me grin.

I spent a couple of hours recording vocals in this guy's studio yesterday.  Once I got over feeling self-conscious about my voice, it was a blast.  "That was good, but don't be afraid grow a pair and belt it out," he said after several takes.  It was at that point that I began to imagine I was David Bowie.  I sang while making dramatic hand gestures behind the makeshift wall of sound-proofing blankets.  I let myself get lost in the music that was coming through my headphones.  I closed my eyes and visualized myself onstage as Ziggy Stardust. 

I finished singing and The Studio Musician gave me a big thumbs up from behind his computer.  "That was it!  That was the take!  Rock on!" he exclaimed.  Then his next door neighbor's smoke alarm went off and a dog began barking simultaneously.  The timing on that was uncanny.  If that had happened while I was singing, the take would have been ruined.

When I left the studio, I couldn't help but feel like a rock star.  I had my song stuck in my head for the rest of the day.  Specifically the chorus:  "Is this just another night?  Or have you finally lost your mind?"

Sometimes I feel like I really am losing my mind in this place.  Fortunately, I have a good method of reminding myself that I'm at least semi-sane.  It involves a pile of notebooks Mr. Merry Christmas Forever has sitting in a trunk outside of his door.  But that's a story I'll save for tomorrow...