A Helping Hand

Friday rolled around and Indy had made it to the studio for 7am, thanks to Brian’s insistence that they get an early start on tracking. They had a huge day ahead of them, and Indy had made sure to stop at her favourite coffee spot before she headed to work, buying a coffee for each of the guitarists.

She arrived at the studio, noting that Zacky’s car was still here, and that Brian’s had also joined it in the parking lot. She had timed her arrival perfectly as Brian was just lighting up a cigarette, meaning he had just arrived as well. She took her keys out of the ignition, throwing them in her bag before slinging it over her shoulder and grabbing the coffees with her now empty hands. Her door opened for her, Brian on the other side with a warm smile.

Wordlessly, she thrust the coffee towards him. Happily he took the paper cup and lifted it to his lips. A content look came over his face as he sipped the beverage while Indy finally got out of the car. She paused for a second, frowning at her own stupidity before she handed her coffee to Brian as well.

He took the cup from her after he had put his cigarette in his mouth, holding it with his lips. She smiled gratefully and reached back into her bag to fish out her keys. The early morning rise had made her forget that she actually needed to lock her car, not just get out of it.

She spun around, facing Brian once more, and took her coffee back from the guitarist. He removed the cigarette from his lips, but not before taking a long drag. Together they slowly walked across the car park to the studio, taking longer than necessarily needed so Brian could finish his cigarette.

Indy, having remembered to keep her keys out, unlocked the studio door. The pair had asked Mudrock for his key so they could work early this morning, making up for the lack of recording on Monday. Even though they had stayed back the last two nights until past 9pm, the guitar portion of the album was starting to take longer than they could afford.

They had decided to take up residence in the bass tracking room for the day, using the computer and gear in the room to track Indy’s rhythm guitar sections. As they were tracking relatively clean, it wasn’t a huge issue that the acoustics were ever so slightly different to the main room where Brian had tracked the lead. If anything, it helped fill out the rhythm sections a little more without having to digitally manipulate it too much.

Without needing to speak, they started setting up, Indy turning on the computer before she went to get the guitars while Brian checked the leads, guitar cab and the microphones. They had set up last night, so he only had to check nothing had changed. Once satisfied, he sat down, making himself comfortable in the spare chair next to the console. Indy soon returned, a guitar in each hand, and one strapped over her back. She had thought to take Brian’s with her, as well as her PRS and her spare Schecter that had been living at the studio since she arrived. She placed the guitars down, giving Brian his own, and started emptying her pockets. While in the main room, she had stocked up on essentials – spare strings, picks, another strap and a cloth.

Indy sat at the computer, opening up the programs and files she needed while sipping at the last of her coffee. Mudrock would kill her if he knew she had put any liquid near the machine, so she decided to throw back the rest of her beverage, putting the empty cup in the bin below the desk. Finally, she grabbed her guitar. With it settled in her lap, she started tuning it, making sure every string was perfectly set, not a touch sharp or flat.

They ran through a few warm ups, getting their fingers ready and nimble. Indy ran through some scales slowly, her fingers responding by muscle memory. At the end of each scale, she upped the tempo slightly, her fingers slowly beginning to become limber. Once she had been through each scale twice, she started on chords, quickly playing the full chords, swapping to power chords, and back again. For her final warm up, she started playing around in the D-minor key while making up small segments of melodies. None of it fit together, but it was fun to see what she could create without actually thinking.

Sated that her fingers were now up to playing Avenged Sevenfold tempos, she looked to Brian. He was still in his own world warming up and, much to Indy’s surprise, followed her lead while playing in D-minor. He must have heard her playing it, and decided to do the same as to not have clashing notes. It was a smart move. While he played, Indy opened what they recorded yesterday, ready to play it as a stepping off point.

“Ok, hit it, kid,” Brian said, speaking the first words of the day. Indy did as he instructed, playing the acoustic guitar track they had recorded for Strength of the World.

They had completed the intro yesterday, deciding to record all the acoustic guitar through the song in one session while they were on a roll with it. It was a fairly simple job for Indy, most of the work being chords she reverse strummed, with a few very simple single notes dotted in towards the end of the intro. It was a very simple backing for Brian’s acoustic work to shine through. The acoustic faded away, and they didn’t bother playing the rest of the track as the remaining acoustic work was either repeating the rhythmic parts of the intro, or basic chords a few minutes in. They needed to get down the electric rhythmic parts for the entire song by lunch, and were hopeful that they could even squeeze in the harmonies before then.

“Can we run through the entire song once before I start tracking?” Indy asked Brian, liking to have the song fresh in her head before she tracked.

“You’d be mad not to,” Brian replied. They both plugged in their guitars before Brian reached over and switched both amps on. “Ok, one, two, three, four.”

Her first strum sounded perfectly in time with Brian’s fretwork, the older guitarist playing the repeated motif 4 times, Indy’s rhythm parts starting to get more interesting in the second half. They played the pre-verse in sync, Indy copying the extended motif from Brian. It was a fun little melody to play, nothing too taxing, but still memorable.

The verse was the same extended motif and a small 4 bars of power chords which Brian played alone. She watched his fingers dance so easily along the fretboard. The way he played so fluidly made her think he could actually play guitar in his sleep it had become such a second nature to him.

She re-joined his playing in the prechorus, harmonising the small phrase before hitting the chorus chords. The chorus itself was very simple, and the boys had plans of a gang-vocal chorus line to fill in the void. She and Brian both strummed away at the repeat, stopping and muting the strings when the next section came. Brian played the chords muted to keep the song going. The section was actually where the acoustic guitar came back in. Indy copied his lead, and played the few notes in the same style to replicate the parts they recorded yesterday.

Unmuting his strings, Brian played the 4 chord breakdown before leaping into the verse once more. As they repeated the verse, prechorus and chorus, muting their strings once more for the post-chorus ‘acoustic’ phrase. As they continued towards the solo, Indy had to bob her head to keep time with the syncopated chords. Though each guitarist had a foot tapping along as a makeshift metronome, the head bopping actually helped her tackle the phrase.

The first solo was difficult to play with only two people. They needed to have Brian free to play the upcoming electric solo, Indy to play the chords, and somehow play the acoustic motif that echoed throughout. The first half, Brian took over on the 4 lingering chords, while Indy replicated the acoustic melody on her guitar. It took her a bar to realise the best way to replicate it would be to switch pick up for a more warm tone. It wasn’t anywhere close to sounding like an acoustic, but at least it took a little of the grit away. She repeated it for the few remaining bars of the small solo, Brian stopping the chords to play the melody high on the B and high E strings.

The interlude hit, and Brian took a break while Indy played the chords. Though he should probably be playing along, he took the chance for a small rest to observe the other guitarist play. As she strummed the chords easily, he noticed her small sways as she got into the music. Brian turned his attention once more to the guitar in his lap to start the countermelody. It was a fairly simple run up the strings and didn’t tax him too much to play. He wanted to play something a little more complex, but didn’t want to overshadow Matt’s vocals that were going to be laid over the top. They hit the post-chorus once more, Indy switching her pickups over once more at the end of the section.

They were finally broaching his longer solo, Indy moving her body along with the change in chord timing while Brian effortlessly danced his fingers across the high of the fretboard. As he wasn’t tracking he was playing the solo on the fly, the notes finding new combinations than any he had played before. He loved having a rough idea of what he wanted, but improvising bits and pieces. It seemed to keep his material fresh.

They played the breakdown again, the simple chords leading into the chorus. From the chorus they lowed into the outro, Indy once again playing the chords solo before Brian started playing the slow melody made for an acoustic over the top.

As the final notes were struck, the pair looked to each other, happy smiles on their faces. The 9 minute epic was the longest track on the album, though there were a few that were creeping up there. Indy was still amazed at how quickly she and Brian had connected musically. As they had just proved, they could communicate without words, each of them knowing what role they sat, neither trying to take from the other. If this is how they connected after a few weeks, she was dying to see how he and Zacky played together. She could only imagine the seamless music they would create after their 6 year partnership.

“Time to track,” Brian told her, lowering his volume knob to 0 before reaching over, turning the amps off and unplugging his guitar. Indy unplugged her own guitar now it was safe.

“Did you want me to use the PRS, or the Schecter?” she asked him, motioning to the two guitars.

“Use yours to track clean first, then we will see what tone we can get. If it doesn’t get what we need, then use the Schecter,” he instructed. It was a sound decision, and one Indy was glad she asked.

Indy plugged in the second lead that ran through the rack straight into the computer. It only ran through an EQ and then straight to ProTools. The electronic signals were then recorded cleanly, open for digital manipulation if it was needed down the track. The signal was then rerouted from the computer into the isolated amp stack to their right, being recorded through a microphone set up to create the gritty tone. She started two new tracks, one to record the clean guitar and the other to record the microphones that were set up in front of the cab.

She ran resaved the file, creating a new folder of ‘Indy Backing’ just in case something were to happen to the original. One of the most valuable lessons Mudrock had imparted to her as she learnt his trade was the habit of continuous saving. Not only saving the file as more was added, but to create backups of backups of backups. You could be too safe!

She started the recording, the computer playing the last 4 bars of the acoustic tracks they recorded yesterday as well as a click track before starting her take on the first empty bar. Having recorded more times that she could possibly count, she knew what worked for her when recording rhythm, and one of those things was keeping it very simple. All she needed was a jumping off point and a click to get her recordings done.

An hour and a half later, Mudrock made his appearance, entering the bass room to see the progress Brian and Indy had made that morning. Upon listening to the mostly recorded track, he had to give himself credit. He knew Indy was going the perfect session musician to take on this job when Zacky had reported his accident. The way she had thrown herself into their myriad of styles completely made him swell with pride, her skills able to keep up with Brian in a unique way.

“So all we have left to record is the few harmonised sections,” Brian told the producer, stifling a yawn that attempted to break through his lips. To help him stay awake, he sat up straight in his chair, stretching his back before resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in the palms of his hands.

“Well done, guys,” Mudrock praised, truly impressed with the efficiency of the morning. “I can’t wait to hear the rest.”

“Well fuck me, that was the kindest thing you’ve said so far,” Indy said, a mocking look of shock on her face.

“Shut it, kid,” he replied, leaning over to ruffle her hair before leaving the recording room. Before shutting the door behind himself, he couldn’t help but give them a time limit. “You have an hour to finish the song, guys.”

“Good one, now you have made him mad,” Brian joked, leaning back in his chair once more before grabbing his guitar. He enjoyed playing around with the instrument between Indy’s takes, trying new melodies and solos to see if any were better than what he had recorded already.

“I think you know as well as I do that Mudrock doesn’t get mad, he gets furious,” Indy replied, looking at Brian with a knowing smile.

“Ah ha, so he had shared stories of our last album with you,” he said, surprised that it hadn’t yet come up in conversation.

“He did at the time, but I was working on another project, so our conversations were really just the both of us bitching about one thing or another. Only a few stories ever stuck out to me, and it wasn’t until recently that I connected the dots,” she told him. To be fair, it was over 2 years ago since her father first worked with the band.

“I am so flattered,” Brian said sarcastically. “Glad to know how memorable we are.”

“Oh don’t pout. You know Mudrock is all work, no play. His stories were more along the line of ‘we spend all day recording the one fucking song, and it’s not even finished’, or more along the lines of ‘there is this section that is so boring’,” she reported, remembering snippets here and there. The look on Brian’s face was so disheartened. “But to be fair, he was also your biggest fan. He saw the raw talent you guys have, and wanted to be the one to help you create the album it became. He couldn’t have lived with himself if you guys walked away after 2 weeks with a shitty album to show for it. That is not what he is about. He put in so much post-production time on that record. I didn’t even see him for about a month at one point, he was spending nearly all his time recording this acoustic duo for the day, and then staying at the studio to fine tune the small bits and pieces.”

Brian was speechless. He knew that Mudrock had gone above and beyond for their last album, taking the job for much less than his skills were worth, but he had no idea how much extra work he had done to help the band out. He was a complete asshole when it came to recording, but he had to push them to grow as songwriters. He was speechless.

“Well, anyway, I should probably start recording these harmonies,” Indy said, more to herself as Brian had fallen silent. She didn’t mean to spew the word vomit that had come out, but the look on Brian’s face made her tell the guitarist the truth. Her father was a hard task master, but he was fucking good at what he did.

There were only 2 sections they needed to record the harmony for, the prechorus (and its repeat) and the end of the bridge. Brian had originally chosen not to record the harmony as a test for Indy, making sure she was up to the challenge. Looking back he realised what an asshole he was, now knowing Indy’s skillset was far up to, and beyond, the small challenged that lay before them.

As predicted, it only took Indy 25 minutes to record the small sections. Messing up the bridge twice had set them back. The pair had accomplished a lot more in the 2 hours than they had originally anticipated, hoping that their momentum would carry through the day.

Indy fastidiously saved the file multiple times, moving a copy to the shared drive so Mudrock could access it when he was ready to hear the rest of their work and start mixing the guitars. Matt still had to record his vocals, and they had the group vocals scheduled for after the complete completion of the instrumental tracking. They were still in talks of adding a string arrangement to the mix, and it was looking more and more likely that it would go ahead.

“Ok, I think it’s break time, and then we can come in to start the sections of The Wicked End,” Brian suggested, placing his guitar next to Indy’s.

Indy made a sound of agreement, and the pair stood simultaneously. Indy took a second to stretch her back muscles, elongating her spine before twisting left and right. A satisfactory crack sounded through the small room, and she felt 10 times better than when she had been sitting. The time flew as they recorded, and Indy couldn’t believe it was already creeping past 9am.

“Ok, so what does The Wicked End need?” Indy asked, waiting for Brian to pocket his cigarettes and wallet before they left the room.

“I have tracked most of my parts, but still need to write the solo. You need to record all the rhythm, the harmonized guitars for the intro, the end of the verse, the prechoruses, start of the second verse, the second chorus, the first half of the bridge, end of the bridge, counter melody before the final chorus and the final chorus. That’s all.”

Brian opened the door to the room and sent a cheeky smile to Indy.

“That’s all? That’s all?” She asked incredulously. He made it all sound so simple. The pair started walking to the hallway, having to briefly cross through the main recording area to reach their destination. “Are you fucking insane?!”

“Hey, all the picking before the bridge are done, so don’t whine. That’s over a minute of recording. You’re welcome,” he told her, laughing at her reaction.

“Oh why thank you, you are ever so kind,” she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes at the older man as they made their way to the entrance of the studio. As they walked, Brian got out a cigarette, keen to get another nicotine hit. He had pushed the cravings aside all morning to stay in the room with Indy, helping her on the tricker timed sections. He was ready to chain smoke at least 3 of the cancerous fuckers down.

“There isn’t that much rhythm that you need to record. If we keep tracking at the pace we have set, that should be done in about 45 minutes, an hour at most,” Brian told her, opening the door that took them outside. With his lighter ready, he lit the cigarette between his lips and inhaled the first lungful of the magic smoke.

“I guess so,” Indy agreed, standing beside the guitarist as they both lent against the wall. Though there was a small outdoor table set up close by, they both preferred to stretch their legs. After all, they had been sitting for the past 2 and a half hours.

“And my guitar has been tracked, so you just need to pace yours to that. You will be fine,” Brian continued, waving his hand to gesture that she had nothing to worry about.

“You have that much faith in me?” She asked him, once more looking at the man with surprise in her eyes.

“You are much more skilled that you give yourself credit for. Hell, I am considering replacing Zacky with you,” Brian told her, lightly chuckling at the end to show he was joking about the latter comment.

He truly believed the first part, having picked up on her insecurities from day one. At first he thought it was nerves, but as the weeks went on, he realised that she didn’t believe in her own talent. At times she struggled to keep up with him, but only when he was truly testing her, trying to get her to crack. He had not yet achieved breaking the woman, and that in itself spoke more than he could verbalise.

“I didn’t realise you hated me that much, Gates,” a voice from their right spoke. The words startled them both, each reacting in a unique way. Indy jumped slightly, raising her hand to her chest as she looked over to Zacky who had emerged from the studio. Brian had almost dropped his cigarette, neither of them expecting to see the injured man today.

“Hate, love, isn’t it all the same in the end?” Brian asked him, smiling at his counterpart. He walked over and greeted the man with a hug before stepping back and letting Indy do the same. He couldn’t help but notice the embrace lasted a little longer, but he pushed it aside. He was still lacking nicotine and caffeine so he was more than likely reading in to things too much.

“That’s what they all say,” Zacky responded to Brian, a smile on his face.

“When did you even get here?” Indy asked him, not realising that he was back in the studio after Monday’s incident.

“I’ve been here for about half an hour. Matt gave me a lift in. My car is still here, after all,” he told the pair, taking a cigarette from his own packet, handing it to Brian before taking one out for himself. He gestured vaguely towards his car that had taken residence in the car park for the last 4 days.

“I didn’t even see you in the control room,” she admitted, trying to recall seeing anyone in the short trip from the bass room to outside. Her mind had been distracted with the sheer volume of harmonising she was about to record.

“You guys were in a world of your own,” Zacky said, looking away from her into the car park to his right. There was a twinge of jealousy behind his words before he realised how ridiculous he was being. If they were getting along that well, it was all the better for the recording process. They needed to be in a bubble of chords, riffs and melodies to make the album. The jealousy was soon replaced with frustration. He was still learning to get over the fact he would have very little of his own playing on this album. It was awful. “So, what is next?”

“The Wicked End,” Indy replied with a sigh. “You guys are really testing me with this song.”

“But it will be so worth it,” Brian told her, chuckling as he threw his cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table. He blew the last puff of smoke from his lungs before rejoining the other two, throwing his arm over Indy’s shoulder and leading her back to the studio door. “Come along, shrimp, let’s get back to it.”