“How’s it going?” Jon says into a short microphone on his console.
The guys look up from their place behind the glass and signal him.
“We’re ready,” Luke replies into his mic.
“Ok, let’s get a quick sound check. Casey, I’ve got you going through a DI so we just have to check the gain. Give me something.”
Casey gives him a thumbs up and starts playing. We can hear the piano, but also a heavy buzz, and Jon holds up his hand.
“Ok, hang on. Carl, I’m getting a hum. Can you flip the ground switch on the box?”
Carl jumps into action and makes an adjustment to the little metal box on the floor by Casey’s keyboard.
“Ok, play again, Casey…Ok, great. Luke?”
Luke leans toward the mic. “Check 1, 2…hey hey 1, 2.”
“Ok, good. You guys hear each other and the click, ok?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Great. Alright, whenever you’re ready!”
Casey counts off and starts to play.
I’m not sure I actually breathe the entire time they’re recording. Even though I’ve heard the song countless times now, it’s different for some reason. Maybe it’s because they’re different. Casey and Luke have an energy, an aura, to their music I hadn’t heard before. It’s beautiful, and I have to keep reminding myself to re-oxygenate.
I think the recording sounds great when they finish, but after listening back, Casey and Jon both agree they have to run it again because of something that was happening on the “turns.” They do, and this time, seem more optimistic after the take.
Luke and Casey give each other a congratulatory punch, and Jon leans into his talkback mic.
“Ok, I think we got it. Come on in to listen back, and if you’re happy, we’ll get Casey’s kit setup to track the drums next. Carl, I’m going to want 421’s on the toms and throw up a couple 81’s for the overheads. I need the room mics back in place for the kit, too.”
Luke and Casey join us in the control room, and I rise to greet them. I expected Casey to be euphoric with excitement, but instead he seems serious, contemplative. He still has enough playfulness to give me a quick kiss that I treasure, however.
“So what’d you think?” he asks.
I shake my head. “It’s amazing. I had no idea.”
“We haven’t really even started yet,” he chuckles. “Let’s hear it,” he says to Jon. The engineer plays back the recording, and all three of them have a stern look on their faces as they listen.
“Yeah, it’s good,” Luke says in approval at the conclusion of the song.
Jon nods. “I agree. Ok, Casey. Let’s get you going.”
Casey nods, and gives me an apologetic smile before retreating back to the tracking room.
“Luke, you can take a breather. We’ve got a while until we need you again.”
Luke smiles. “Thanks. I’ll stick around for a bit.”
He slings his arm around me and gives me quick hug.
“Good to be back?” I ask, looking up at him.
He nods. “Yeah. I’m not gonna lie, I was nervous. But, yeah, it’s pretty great. I missed this.”
“You sound great,” I say, squeezing him back.
“Yeah? Thanks. That wasn’t the real vocal though.”
“Oh, right. You don’t use that one for the final version.”
“Exactly.”
“Hey, so what’s a click?”
“The click track? It’s that steady ticking you heard while we were playing.”
“Oh ok, that metronome-sounding thing?”
“Yep. Keeps us all together.” He gives me another smile. “You ready to see your boyfriend do his thing?” he asks, and I suck in my breath. Now, I’m the one who’s nervous.
“Definitely. I’m excited.”
“Alright, Casey, give me quarter notes on the kick,” Jon says to the mic, and Casey starts pounding a slow steady rhythm on the big bass drum. “Carl, back off the outside mic a bit? Tiny bit more…ok…good. Casey, give me the snare next.”
Casey moves to the smaller, horizontal drum and starts the same simple rhythm. They repeat the drill for the “toms” and “hi-hats,” and then Jon has him play the entire kit to do a check on the “overheads” and get the full mix. He finally seems happy with what he’s hearing and makes sure Casey is ready.
Casey signals him, and Jon triggers the scratch track.
I’m not sure I actually blink during the five minutes that follow. My eyes are glued to Casey, my ears ringing with an incredible barrage of percussion. I never in a million years would have guessed the cute little song Casey played for me that first day on that beat-up guitar would have this as its base. I can’t believe Casey heard this in his head when he read my poem.
Casey wipes his face with his t-shirt when he finishes, but doesn’t seem happy.
“Can we run that again?” he asks.
“Yeah, no problem. Sounded like a decent first take out here, but we can run it again.”
“Thanks.”
They do, and it sounds no different to me, but I know it is because everyone else seems much happier. Casey joins us in the control room.
“That was good, man. Great take. What’d you think?” Jon asks.
Casey shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m still not sure about the bridge. Can we hear it?”
Jon nods and starts the playback. I watch Casey’s face closely as he listens and notice him cringe a couple times. When it finishes, he moves back toward the tracking room.
“Yeah, we need to run the bridge again. I don’t like the build.”
“You need a bigger fill, Case,” Luke says, and Casey nods.
“Yeah. I also came in too early on the chorus.”
“Ok. Let’s take it from the turn after chorus two,” Jon says, and Casey returns to his kit.
He seems much happier the third time through.
“Killer!” Jon calls into the mic, and Casey salutes him.
“Yeah, I think we got it that time,” Casey replies.
By the time Casey makes his way back to the control room, Sweeny and Eli have joined us as well.
“Still tracking drums?” Sweeny smirks. “Why? They’re just gonna replace it with samples anyway.”
Eli laughs, and Casey gives him an annoyed look. “Hilarious. Hey, how about you do something besides stuff your face with donuts?”
Sweeny seems surprised. “We ready for guitars already?”
“No. Bass,” Jon says, pointing to Eli.
“You want my cab in an iso booth?” Eli asks, and Jon shakes his head.
“No, you can set up in the main room. We’re crunched for time, so we’ll just go direct.”
Eli’s face falls. “You want to go direct?”
It’s Casey’s turn to snicker. “Dude, we have an entire song to track in a day. No one cares about making angels cry with your bass tone. Direct is fine.”
“Look, man, I promise. It’s going to be killer. If it’s not, we’ll setup your cab, ok?” Jon soothes.
Eli grunts, but moves into the main room and removes his bass from the stand. Carl hands him a cable, and he plugs it into his guitar. He then adjusts the headphones on his ears.
“Alright, go ahead,” Jon says, and Eli starts to play. Jon moves some buttons around on the console.
“He’s checking the gain and compression,” Casey whispers to me.
I nod as though that explains everything. I can tell by his smile he knows I have no idea what that means.
“What was he talking about ‘going direct?’ Why was Eli so upset about it?” I ask.
Casey grins. “Eli wants to control his tone with his own amp. To really do that, they’d have to set it up in one of those smaller rooms there called iso booths like we’re going to do for the guitar cabs and vocals. Problem is, Eli is never happy, so we could spend the rest of the day trying to get his tone right. Jon is saving us a ton of time by having him go direct and controlling it himself.�
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I nod. “Are they really going to replace your drums with samples?”
I can see Luke and Sweeny snickering, and Casey rolls his eyes at them.
“No. Not on this one,” he says.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“Remember that software I showed you on my computer in the office?”
“With the keyboard?”
He nods. “Exactly. We could basically use that instead of what we just recorded. Makes everything perfect.”
“They would do that?”
Casey shrugs. “Honestly, if TJ hadn’t sent my own kit, I probably wouldn’t have minded. But since we got a really good take, we’ll use my track. Right, guys?” Casey challenges with a dark look.
They shrug, still grinning, and hold up their hands.
“You ready?” Jon asks Eli, and the rest of us quiet.
Eli says he is, and this time the song coming through the monitors has Casey’s drums added to the original keys and vocals. Eli plays along, but I don’t find this part as exciting. The bass makes a big difference to the sound, but it’s not as flashy as the drums, and Eli needs four takes until Jon is happy. I suppose that makes sense since he’d only started working on the song Wednesday.
“What do you think?” Jon asks Casey who joins him by the console.
Casey sighs. “Honestly, he’s gonna hate me but I think we need to run the last chorus again. I just remembered this sweet run he played last night when we were rehearsing. I’d love to get that in there.”
Jon nods. “You want to talk to him or should I?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Casey leans over the mic. “Hey, killer. Nice work on that last one. We’re close. You sound great. One thing, though. Remember, that run you played last night on the final chorus?”
Eli looks confused for a minute and then raises his hand. “Right on! Forgot about that!” he says into his own talkback mic.
“Sweet. Let’s just get that in there and then we’re good.”
“You couldn’t remember that two takes ago?” he fires back.
Casey grins and shrugs. “Better now than on the way home!”
∞∞∞
Jon tells us to take five and grab a bite once we finish with the bass track. We still have to do guitars, synths, and vocals, but the guys seem happy with the progress, so I assume we’re making good time. Personally, I’m exhausted, and I’m just watching. Every step seems so meticulous, and I struggle to tell the difference between the “killer” takes and the complete failures.
Casey and I opt for a sandwich on a bench, while the other three go for something more formal at a restaurant the next block over.
“What do you think so far?” he asks, after we settle on our bench.
“Pretty amazing. I’m tired, though!”
He laughs. “It’s a long day for sure. We still have at least another six or seven hours.”
“Really? You’re finished with your part, though, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ll help with the synth work after we get the guitars down.”
I let out my breath.
“I don’t understand, though. If you’re playing drums, who plays the synths and keys at the shows?”
Casey shrugs. “We’ll usually get someone to play a lot of it live, but we run some in tracks, too. You just can’t get everything you want live.”
“And I thought music was just a few guys strumming guitars.”
He smirks. “Yeah, maybe fifty years ago.”
“I can’t wait to see you play live,” I say, glancing over at him.
He smiles back. “It might be sooner than you think.”
My face falls. “I thought you didn’t have to tour for a few more months.”
He shakes his head. “We don’t. But we’re still going to play some shows before then. With Luke’s return, the Label is going to want to explode us back into the spotlight. I’m sure we’ll do some high profile stuff to build up for the tour.”
“And you think I’ll be able to go?”
He gives me a silly look. “You better go.”
“Well, I want to be there, of course, but I don’t know. I don’t want to get in your way. I mean, with Luke just getting back into it, I don’t want to mess with the band chemistry or anything.”
He studies me for a moment and sighs. “Seriously? Is that really what you think? Look, maybe now isn’t the best time to talk about this, but Luke and I had a long conversation last night after you went to bed. He’s serious about coming back, but he wants you to come with us. He needs you, Callie. You’re his rock, his support, at least for now. He doesn’t believe he would have gotten here without you, so he’s not ready to let go.”
I stare at him in shock. “Wait, what? Are you serious? He said that?”
Casey shrugs. “It’s true. Anyone who’s seen the two of you together can see how important you are to him.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Wow…and you think the guys will be ok with that? The Label?”
Casey laughs. “Are you kidding? To have Luke Craven back on the bus? They’d let him bring an entire psychiatric team if he said that’s what it’d take. One girl from Shelteron, PA is nothing.”
I swallow. “What about you? What do you think?” I ask, searching his eyes. “I mean, I know this whole thing is strange. Luke and I have a very complicated relationship, but you know I’m crazy about you.”
Relief floods through me when he smiles. “Hey, look, this whole thing is totally screwed up, I know that, but I also think I understand it. I really do. What you and Luke have is very different than what you and I have, and I think the two can co-exist.”
I take his arm, and lean against him. “It’s true. But even for the whole touring thing? Are you sure you’re ok with me being there?”
He kisses my hair. “To be perfectly honest, I’m thrilled that Luke is taking the hit in demanding your presence, because then I don’t have to look like the wussy boyfriend who wants his girlfriend along.”
I grin and kiss him. “So that means you do want me along?”
“Well, I mean, we need our best writer, right?”
I laugh. “I suppose. I’ll need something to do while you guys are busy signing bras and whatnot.”
∞∞∞
After lunch, Luke tracks the rhythm guitar next, then Sweeny on lead. Casey does the synths and his computer stuff last, and they’re finally ready for Luke’s vocal.
They set him up in an iso booth, and Jon tells Carl to make sure he gets a Neumann vocal mic or something like that.
“He’s clipping,” Jon mutters to himself during the sound check, and makes some adjustments on the console. “Hey, Luke, I think we got it now. You ready?”
“Ready.”
For the first time that day, the entire band is gathered in the control room to watch. I’m not surprised, and can feel the anticipation in the air. Most of us thought this day would never come, and if they knew half of what Casey and I do, they’d understand the full extent of this miracle. There’s a ghost in that iso booth, stealing magic from a second chance he never dreamed he’d have. A month ago, sure he wouldn’t. I promise myself I won’t cry, but when Casey grabs my hand and squeezes, I know it’s going to be a difficult battle. He’s thinking the same thing I am, and I can’t look at him out of fear I’ll lose it.
Jon starts the track, and Luke takes over. From the second he starts singing, the song becomes his. It doesn’t matter that Casey and I wrote it, Luke now owns it, and I finally have to steal a glance at Casey’s face. He looks mesmerized, completely transported to a different time and place, and it melts my heart.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” I whisper when the song finishes. “That’s what was in your head.”
He almost seems dazed and meets my eyes.
“That was it.”
Luke and Jon are exchanging words, but I can’t even hear them. I’m too caught up in the moment, thrilled for Casey, for L
uke, for the world that’s going to be blessed with this additional contribution to its rich tapestry of art. This piece of history that had no business being created, but has now somehow transformed several lives.
“You did this, Callie,” Casey whispers, tears in his eyes. “Don’t ever tell me you’re no one.”
Speechless, I swallow hard, and gaze back at the booth.
∞∞∞
It’s a long day for them, but completely overwhelming for me. Every second, every experience, was so rich and saturated that my brain seems ready to explode by the time they wrap up the session.
Jon plays the track one last time for us, and I think it sounds amazing, but apparently it’s not even done. They still have to mix and master it, although not today. The guys want to celebrate, and even my exhausted brain can appreciate why that would be a necessary conclusion to this incredible day.
“We don’t have to stay long,” Casey assures me as the car pulls up to the entrance of a club. There’s a long line snaked to the door, but Eli and Sweeny don’t seem deterred in the least as they saunter toward the entrance.
“You sure you’re up for this?” I ask Luke as we climb out of the car, and am surprised when he smiles at me.
“No, probably not, but it’s kind of mandatory, huh?” he asks with a knowing glint. He understands I’m as (not) excited about this as he is.
The bouncers let us in without even a second of hesitation, and I wonder how everyone else on the planet is able to recognize these guys except for me. No wonder they found my ignorance so amusing.
Casey seems uncomfortable for some reason, and I see him constantly glancing at Luke. I do as well, and notice he’s stiffened quite a bit, a huge change from his smile just a moment ago.
“It’s not the same club as that night,” Casey whispers, leaning close to my ear so I can hear him. “But it’s similar.”
I meet his gaze, concerned, then look back to Luke. “Should we go?” I ask Casey, suddenly terrified for some reason. “Is he ready for this?”
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