Camera Obscura – Page 11

14 August, 2001

13 Aug: studio

OVERTURE
me – guitar

HITCHCOCK BLONDE
me – guitar

This is the worst point in recording a song for me. I don’t consider myself to be an accomplished guitarist, although I have improved over the past few years, and I can play a song well. I don’t know theory or any of that, I know the names of some chords and the rest I’ve simply stumbled onto and tried to figure out what they were later. On acoustic guitar my hand cramps badly if there are too many barre chords. But I think, in general, I am a dependable guitarist. Recording acoustic tracks usually means doing it a few times for each song, even assuming you nail it the first time, just for double tracking and making a fuller sound. So the process for me can become very painful. Plus, the song at this stage sounds the most bare, usually just the drums and a scratch guitar track and a scratch vocal. So, you don’t get a feeling of accomplishment very often at this point, because even when you’re done the song sounds pretty weak, although you can see the vague shape of what it might become.

Luckily, tracking on these went well, and there aren’t any overdubs for the acoustic on either, so both were one take with a punch-in on one song at the end.

We were all sort of lackluster overall. Rob was tired, I think, and of course there’s me. I will be on Percocet for the entire week because of the kidney stone. Which amuses me to a certain extent, because it means at least part of this CD will have been recorded under the influence of strong depressants. Maybe I should put that on a sticker on the outside.

An added bonus was talk about more rehearsing for the band, so clearly the feeling across the board is that this is a real band and a going concern.

12 June, 200119 April, 2016

Jeff Lynne

When I was nine years old I used to sit on my bed, holding the lyrics sleeve to ELO’s Out of the Blue and singing along.

When I was eleven my friend and I used to listen to that record and ELO’s Discovery. We would make up story lines and act them out to the songs, and then finish up by playing air band to them. We were shy, goofy, geeks.

When I was fourteen I remember spending a lot of the summer in my room late at night, with ELO’s Secret Messages, playing a tennis racket and singing into a lamp that was on a stand. In my head the crowd was filled with girls I really liked but never had the nerve to tell.

Please, don’t try to tell me about the relative merits of ELO. You’re missing the point. There’s no more concrete reminder of my childhood than those records. In my press kit I jokingly refer to the fact that I grew up on pop music and have never fully recovered from its somewhat misleading world view. But really, it’s ELO that I’m talking about there, and it’s maddeningly true. I couldn’t point out a more definitive influence on my life then than my time spent singing along with those records and pining for girls. And, everything else stripped away, I haven’t changed.

New ELO (well, really it’s just Jeff Lynne, but he’s calling it ELO, and frankly, he is ELO), out today. Yes, it’s catchy. Yes, it has those same major to minor Beatle chord changes. Yes, it’s rather mindless and trite.

Doesn’t matter. A while back there was some car commercial that made a comment about what the nine-year-old-you would think of you today (the point being, you should buy an SUV). And I was surprised to find that I’m pretty damn sure that the nine-year-old-me would be pretty fucking happy with me. Right now he’s in his room playing his tennis racket with no idea one day he’ll be doing it for real, and writing music that stirs the same feelings in himself that he gets from those damn ELO records.

When I play this song, I sometimes preface it with this description: “This is a song about someone who grew up listening to too much ELO as a child and now he spends his days sabotaging his relationships in order to be more like an ELO song. (there’s a long pause here, until I say with slight sarcasm) It’s not autobiographical in any way.”

Jeff Lynne

She says it’s alright
She always knew that I’d prefer to be alone
than try to prove her wrong
Well, maybe I just might
or maybe to me it’s clear your determined to go
no matter what I might show
So I won’t pretend I’m even surprised
that the look of you leaving is there in your eyes
I’d have to say I could see it all along

Though I know more will just follow
I’ll take my chances tomorrow
and I will keep it all inside
You’ll never know that I feel just like Jeff Lynne

She’s on the next flight
She calls to say she doesn’t need to run away
I could show her anything to stay
But though there’s a chance at the airport gate
I can just see it’s already too late
I’d have to say I could see it all along

They say I do myself in
things will pick up if I just try
Can’t they see that I
that I have tried to be just like Jeff Lynne?

Another rainy night alone
A silent tear cried on the phone
And isn’t that just why I even try?

The feeling I get when you love me
doesn’t compare to you leaving me
I will keep it all inside
You’ll never know I try to be just like Jeff Lynne

It’s already recorded, it just needs strings.

6 June, 2001

6 Jun: studio

OVERTURE
Mike Rizzi (Five Eight) – drums

HITCHCOCK BLONDE
Mike Rizzi – drums

So, in the intervening time Rob and I have come to the conclusion that OVERTURE is still a little too slow. It wouldn’t be quite as big a deal if it wasn’t leading off the CD, but it really needs to grab and right now it still sort of feels a little sluggish. The fault of not really spending time on working these out ahead of time, but it’s not something that could be avoided given the money situation.

So Mike came in and worked on both tracks today while I’m here at work.