The day nothing happened
First this…the blog below was written a few days ago but comes up here so that I will always remember that making albums aren’t always about peachy day-glows and creams…it’s important for me to remember I think, because I remember too many good things about music. This is not generally a bad thing, but there’s a half senile perky self in me that needs occasional sombre reminding about the ups and downs of the album process before she self combusts into pink happy puff powder….
So here it is below:
Today was a day of no happenings… Nothing wanted to happen…and nothing did…despite everybody’s best efforts. Everything was a fail, so I’m lying here, a temporarily defeated meatbag and feeling very much at the bottom of the world. Attempts to blog ended in a long afternoon of dreamless sleep…this was after 2 coffees…one of which I do not remember drinking. Maybe I was just a little more tired than I thought I would be…for it had indeed been a very strange long day.
The day itself started early at 5am. It involved a rather long journey for the zither and myself. First I had to drop my zither off at the city studio a good few days before. 5am on the D-day, I am on the 1 hour train towards the city, trying to make the 8am taxi I booked to pick the zither and me. All for a 9am start for recording.
Well – the recording space is only 10 minutes away, but you know…I have massive transport related paranoia…especially with taxis in Sydney CBD peak hour…because I think that even when we book them, they tend to explode, implode, discombobulate or travel into parallel universes that do not involve a pre-agreed pick-up point.
Anyways…9am – we are at the said space and there is a mysterious noise in the room. We didn’t make much of it at first, thinking that it was probably the lights (yes…space has lights that make noise). Long story short, which at some point involved a confused but earnest techman and clueless bureaucrats with clipboards, no-one could find the source of the noise. So at 12 noon the results were clear
Sound in room : Your royal madness and her poor producer Rob
ONE : ZERO — no recording for us
I had to laugh (because there was nothing else to do) while poor Rob looked like he was about to go on the red highway on his wrists.
So the zither and I hijacked another taxi back to the city studio. The day was proving to be very long.
My manager, in an attempt to make my day end on a more positive note, invites me to have a play on what was supposed to be a fun piece of music software…he knows that invoking the inner techmonkey is my version of retail therapy.
So 2 coffees (and an imaginary one later), I’m all revved up to go…except we discover that we need something else for the software to work…so….This is the point where I declare day = Massive FAIL and head home.
Thing is…in the context of things, things didn’t go that badly. They really didn’t. Chaos…colossal bouts of stinking, rotting congealed chaos is normal in a recording session. Days like these aren’t really that out of place and at most times I’m ok with it. The album is going slow…but taking sure steps towards the finish (more in next post) so I’ve got nothing to be bitter about. The video clip is finally leaping along so all is good. It’s just…well…today I’m feeling a little worse for wear. Maybe it’s me coming out of an unusually bad and lingering bout of flu that brought the rapid fire coughs, that invoked the long forgotten asthma attacks. Maybe it was holding day jobs, cross training and music all at once. Whatever it was, I found myself slumped into a beanbag 3pm in the afternoon, drained of all positive life force, afternoon tv playing…in an uncharacteristically defeated meat-bag mode.
Then mum called. Her timing was impeccable.
“Everything ok?”
“Yes mostly…except recording didn’t happen today…
“Well it happens (after she nods through the tale), by the way your crazy father is in tears…thought we’d call you”
“WHY?!! Oh my gawd…who died?”
“No…no…*insert repeated cantonese version of touch wood*he’s well, just sleeping off his business trip.”
“then what? anything serious?!”
“your mad MAD father just had a very vivid dream about you playing to a huge full house, and your albums selling out by truckloads…though we’d share it.
“…”
“Strange dream isn’t it? ….Still if it happens I won’t be surprised you know..I can’t wait till you finish…you’re putting so much into this…”
My reaction? Short story really…
…..I’m your royal madness’ puddle of stupid tears….
I’m your royal madness’ over- reacting emo worm
I’m your royal madness’ weepy blubbering idiot self…
A quiet assured vote of confidence is needed on most days…and on a grey day like this…I needed it more than I realised.
Fight another day won’t we?
Dream well. Till next time.
** Update: Your royal madness back to her perky deranged self and is working on a blog that details upbeat album developments. She is currently laughing at her other weepy self for breaking the emo meter 3 days ago.
Your Royal Madness…