Wednesday, August 6, 2008

studio diaries 2 - the perfect storm


Tonight I drove out to my little home-from-home studio and the sky was lit up by a distant electrical storm. Every few seconds another bolt would illuminate the clouds throwing light all around for the briefest moment. It was quite beautiful. I felt like a storm chaser driving headlong into the eye of a tornado or something.

I arrived at my destination and it wasn’t even raining. I opened the place up and switched things on before a light rain started. By the time I had made a coffee and settled into my comfy chair, it was lashing against the windows. I had listened to about four seconds of last nights recording when the room exploded with light and sound before falling into blackness and after the desperate pop of indignant loudspeakers cut off mid sentence, silence.

Well, not the silent kind of silence. More the raging lightning storm versus the drum n bass synth riffing of an errant burglar alarm kind of ear-shreddingly loud and irritating silence.

But the dark was certainly very dark.

I navigated by the light of the frequent lightning strikes to a box of matches and a vanilla candle (I would like it to be known that the reason for the presence of a vanilla candle is not because I believe in the power of aromatherapy to help create a calm, nurturing environment in which to build something beautiful. I took on the lease for this building on a day when the wind was blowing from the south. When the north wind blows, or for that matter, on a still day, the 120 yard proximity of the local refuse and recycling centre becomes distinctly apparent. It doesn’t take a great deal of new age hippyism to conclude that the smell of vanilla is more pleasant than that of several tons of household waste on a hot day.) By candlelight, I waited a few minutes before shutting down the already dead electricals and locked up again.

By the time I got back in the car, it had stopped raining again. The storm had already moved on to inconvenience someone else. The burglar alarm timed out and switched off and just then, the silence became pretty darn quiet.

I ruined it by starting the engine and driving home through fresh puddles.

The thunder is now rolling somewhere out over the English Channel. I guess tomorrow, I’ll go and see if everything still works. I suppose tonight ranks about as close to a near death experience as riding a bicycle or wearing shoes but it felt like a minor adventure for me. And I get a night off. Result.

6 comments:

Ron said...
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Ron said...
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Unknown said...

Hope you don't get back to the studio and find things fried, David. That could get expensive.

I once lived down wind from a stockyard, so I hear you on the vanilla candles.

Heather - Vancouver

Paul McMahon said...

Welcome Home to Blighty, the storm inconvienenced me earlier that evening too...

john towler said...

Hey David. I've been a fan since that album by that band you were in. First saw you play York in 2004, I think, fibbers is such a dive, right? (like most barflys i guess)

I've just grabbed a bootleg of your Milk and Cookies III, and I just couldn't believe (my heart skipped! haha) you ended that gig with what you describe as your possible favourite song of all time, as well as mine. Jeff is my favourite singer ever, so amazing, and you did a fantastic job, judging by the low quality tinny version I have!

Just wanted to say I really look forward to the album, you're a hell of an artist. I'd like to be half as good some day! Just thought i'd comment here cos you might read it; maybe channel some of the greats in this next album man, hehe.

cheers;
-john towler

Valerie said...

Glad to see that you'll be coming back to the States again :) I wish you'd bring copies of the new CD you're doing for the Union Chapel gig with you, too.