Of all the days to have studio time booked

The fates just happened to have me in the studio to lay down two drum tracks on the same day that, as chance would have it, I gave my two weeks' notice at my job.

I went in and set up and got sounds locked in earlier this afternoon, and took a few swipes at the first track before leaving for dinner. Needless to say, it wasn't my best job ever.

Came home, had a light dinner, a good hug from my wife, played with the dog, and a crisp IPA to settle the nerves. Headed back in about ten minutes. Hope to be home at a reasonable time...

Sure some of you have had bad days with studio time booked or huge gigs on the line. Share your "of all the days" stories and how they turned out.

Easter 2014.

Easter, as you may or may not know, is one of the most important Sundays (if not THE most important Sunday) of the entire year for the baptist church. Our church had gone from one service to two that year, and we had just finished the production of our Passion Play. We decided to do a very special version of Revelation Song; it was really powerful! We were all pumped about it.

I woke up that morning sick as a dog. I'm pretty sure I had the flu. I was dizzy out of my skull and I'm lucky I didn't throw up or pass out. Out of all the days to be sick, this was not a good day. At the time, I was the only drummer, and this had to be done. I went and played, but I was absolutely miserable.

Here's a short video of that day. I'm glad I went, but I felt like death.

(I don't know if this will play for you or not b/c I don't know if it's "public.")


https://www.facebook.com/steve.walter.7359/videos/10203660394817205/

One of my original bands, WHIPLADS, had our first gig booked for September 13, 2001. Our last rehearsal date before that show was, of course, the ill-fated 9/11.

Obviously, it was too late to cancel the rehearsal, so we moved ahead anyhow. Plus, we didn't really want to cancel our very first gig.

It was a surreal day for everyone. I also had a job interview that day. Went to it, and we just stared at each other for about five minutes before agreeing to re-schedule. It was an attempt at having a normal day, and it seemed that wasn't going to happen.

We all end up meeting in the parking lot of the rehearsal studio, and are unloading our cars to go in. The bass player is wearing this HUGE black cowboy hat. It was a bit different from his usual, so we ask him what's up. He tells us.

This black hat is my American solidarity, and I WILL NOT take it off until they catch the sumbitches who did this!

He then convinces all of us that we should get black cowboy hats, and wear them for the first gig. Rehearsal went okay, I think. It was a bit of a blur, save for the black hat discussion.

Flash forward to 9/13. I get to the venue first and get set up. I couldn't find a black hat, so I didn't have one. Second guitarist shows up, didn't have a black hat. Same reason.

Singer/guitarist shows up, and got this big black cowboy hat. He had been wearing it all day to get used to it. He's a little miffed that we don't have cowboy hats.

Then, in comes the bass player. He does NOT have his black cowboy hat on. The singer is somewhat upset by this and asks him where his black cowboy hat was. He replies:

WHAT cowboy hat?

By this point, he had "hat hair" and could not perform without it. We all had a little laugh at the singer's expense. It kinda helped bring things back to normal, just a little bit.

Oh, man, this triggered two distinct memories:

1) Early days, first band - and my very first studio experience. It was at college, and I was busy doing college things, so when my bandmates told me they'd booked time at a local recording studio, I promptly forgot all about it. The following week I was walking down the street with two friends, and we were all peaking on some good acid. Next thing I know, my bandmates have pulled up beside me in a car, telling me they'd been driving around everywhere looking for me, and we were late for the studio.

The first time in a studio is always going to be strange and a little foreboding, but needless to say...boy, was that an experience.

2) The day before a studio session, about a decade ago. The band I was in had secured Jack Endino as a producer, so we were all really excited (and feeling slightly pressured to really deliver for him). I was actually getting my studio gear together when I heard two of my dogs - both Great Danes - fighting out back. In attempting to separate them, one clamped down on my bicep, with her incisor tearing down until it hit my bone.

I was in agony, and my arm (MY LEAD HAND) started stiffening up almost immediately. The next day, just loading in was painful; I showed the band and Jack Endino the wound. Mr. Endino looked horrified and sincerely asked if I would be able to even play at all.

We bought some whiskey, I gritted my teeth, and we put out the best album I've ever been involved with. But damn, it sure wasn't easy.

There was the time we all traveled down to LA, checked into a hotel got in bed so we could get some sleep for the big day coming up... And not 10 min after we get settled in the beds, a party of completely drunk business people from some convention decided they were going to party in the rooms. One room above us and one to the side were rowdy parties.

They went on until just the stragglers were still going at it about 4 in the morning. Then finally quiet. We were supposed to go to the studio by 10 and not start recording till noon-ish so we thought we might finally get to sleep. I was just drifting off when they started driving piles into the ground for construction of a building next door, construction noises were louder than the damn parties.

We all busted out into hysterical laughter and got our asses up without any sleep.

But hey, at least it was punk. Being wiped out is practically part of the sound.