SEND IN THE CLOONS

I'm sitting on the fine leather couch, in my producer's state of the art bungalow studio, waiting for him to get off the phone with his ultra hot French model girlfriend who's working in Germany, so we can lay down some guitar tracks. I can't help but listen in. Hell, it's a small studio. Her english is a lot better than his French but still he's struggling to get his point across. "...no you ARE funny. That's whay i like you. Yes. You're serious too. You must have your mother's genes." Silence. Like all ultra hot girls they hate to be called beautiful. Much better to say they are funny and serious. "Genes. You know DNA." I can read her mind. She's thinking- I don't wear my mother's jeans. The producer hangs in there. "It's the language barrier. I'm much funnier if you know the language." As only the French can cut through the bullshit- "No you're not." she deadpans. "You're a real cloon." the producer comes back. See. He does know a little French.
When I'm not herding tiny reindeer I'm working on this album. I used to think I had rhythm until i started working with this guy. He has a fucking metronome in his head. All my loopy go off the beat, drop one, then pick it up in the next verse doesn't fly with him. I like that. He's running a tight ship and that's a good thing. He knows a lot about what buttons to push and more than he gives himself credit on where to place the mics. The stuff is sounding better and better. My job is to bring a six pack and stay on the beat. Ever so slowly we're moving forward.
The other day we were sitting at the kitchen table discussing what instrumentation to add when he mentioned how he knew a guy, who knew a guy that could get Garth Hudson down to play keyboards. "He's fallen on hard times." he said "All we have to do is drive to Woodstock on dump day, offer to buy him a Chinese dinner and he'll play." Garth Hudson is the classically trained keyboardist on all the good Band albums. THE BAND! From the time I was a 15 year old sprout I'd listened to Music From Big Pink. I still listen to it. I don't want to jinx it so if you're going to the dump don't tip him off.
Back in the studio i struggled to stay on beat and by the end of the session I hit it. Then we played it back and realized the drum track had bled onto the take. It was all trash. It was a minor setback but the producer seemed to take it hard. I stayed uncharacteristicly upbeat. If I'd been paying the hourly rate i would have thrown a shit fit. i had to remind him how blessed he was- young, good looking guy, sharp dresser, cool studio, hot girlfriend, Firebird in the garage....must I go on? So what if he didn't have a history of psychotic girlfriends and heartbreak. We can't all be cloons. Now lets hit the dump.