CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The band had been busy at Ramrod’s recording facilities in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney and all amenities were provided; luxury accommodation, even horses to ride around the exclusive piece of real estate. There was no need to leave until they had finished. Steven Brooks was so taken with the band he had forgotten about Jason’s father and Jason had no idea that the state-of-the-art studio he was working in would belong to him one day.
An American producer had been chosen by Steven, who the band had not warmed to. He was very impressed with the band, but the band was not impressed with him. This caused a problem for Brooks whose use of the producer would ensure the album’s release in the States. Jason, Brad and Vic were insistent that the tracks should remain reasonably raw with not too much overdubbing, to reflect the band’s stage character, but the American was big on studio production and seemed to know nothing else. Tom was on hand and was left with the producer to see if he could have the American see the light. The basic guitar, bass and drum tracks had been laid down in just three days, a result of the band’s hard work. Jason had double tracked some guitar rhythms and was busy recording the guitar solos. The harmonica and sax player chosen by Steven had proven not to have a feel for the band. In the evening of the fourth day Steven discussed progress with the band.
“We are going really well, things are sounding great. The girls who are doing back up vocals are coming in on Saturday, so we really must sort out a harp and sax player by then, or we’ll run short of mixing time next week. I need a master tape by next Friday week for a run of CDs at the pressing plant that weekend, for release on Monday week, so it’s possible to stick to that arranged schedule if we can overcome the problem with Hank the yank,” said Steven.
“I think we need to get Indiana playing harp on the album. He’s the best in the country, but I don’t get on with him real well. He was in a band with me when I broke contract with Stallion records years back and he hasn’t spoken to me since,” said Jason.
Vic immediately interrupted. “Indiana, he’s unreal, he’s also a really good friend of mine. He nearly married my sister. He’s working a band out of Adelaide and I reckon I could swing it our way.”
"He nearly married everybody's sister," added Jason.
“Indiana, he’s really hard to get hold of these days. I thought of him myself but I don’t get on with him either; what do you think Brad?” asked Steven.
Brad nodded in approval. “I saw him play once in Sydney years back, easy the best I ever heard.”
Tom walked into the studio mixing module where they all stood around Steven sitting at the mixing desk. “This Hank the yank hasn’t seen a live band for three years he was just telling me, stuck in his studio in Hollywood all the time working on film soundtracks. No wonder he doesn’t know what we want,” said Tom.
“This guy can do much more than I can for us in the States. He’s got a movie coming up than needs a metal blues sound track and the movie company wants an Australian band. You guys came along just at the right time, if we can just get on even terms with him, you guys will kill it,” said Steven.
Tom had an idea. “If I take him to town and we go to a few live R’n’B shows he may get the feel of things.”
“It’s worth a try; have him back here Monday morning in good condition. Vic can you get on to Indiana, see if he can help us?” asked Steven.
“I’ve got his mobile number in my bag here. Let me borrow your phone Steven and I’ll find out now.” Vic retrieved a small notebook from his bag, found the number and punched it into Steve’s tiny mobile hand piece. They stood in silence hearing only Vic’s half of the conversation.
“Indiana, it’s Vic Evans, how ya goin?… Listen I’m at Ramrod’s studio in Sydney with ‘Full On’… You heard about it… Would you do harmonica on the album for us?…Yeah but Jason’s changed a lot Indiana, and Brooks is bending over backwards for us…You remember when I went witness for you when the police tried to, you know you remember…You’re playing in Sydney this weekend, that’s great, listen you remember Tom the sound man from Adelaide, he’ll come and see you play with an American guy, can you look after them for us?…Good, where are you playing?…Can you be back here on Monday morning with them to record?…You have to be gone Tuesday afternoon, no problem, catch you then bye.”
“I take it he’s coming?” asked Steven.
Vic scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Tom. “Indiana’s playing here over the weekend in Sydney, take Hank there and let him mix his band with their sound guy; that should help. If you have any problems get Indiana to ring me, he’ll come back with you for Monday but can only spare a day.”
“What was that bit about the police in your conversation?” asked Jason.
“Nothing much, Indiana owes me a favour from way back that’s all,” replied Vic.
“Head to town tomorrow with Hank, Tom. I don’t know about you guys but I’m turning in straight after tea for an early start tomorrow, hint hint,” said Steven.
The studio was in ground below a double story building like a hotel complex with twenty-four hour catering facilities. “Full On” was not the only band recording at the time. Another band used the same studio while “Full On” rested and with two other studios working at the same time the place was quite busy. Sleeping facilities were separate to the main building well away from any noise, scattered about the property with concrete and stone pathways leading to them.
Brad and Vic were playing pool in the games room. Jason had wandered outside after ringing Malinda, as he did every night, who mentioned Savanna was on a visit and said nothing else, fearing it may worry him while recording. The Blue Mountains air was very cool and Jason looked at the lights of Sydney in the distance. The city was so bright it dulled the stars above the crown of light around the thriving metropolis. He stood outside his room for a while enjoying the silence and missing Malinda and Tammy so much that it hurt. He looked at the stars and realised he no longer wanted to touch one, but he would have to so he could provide for Malinda and Tammy. As he looked up he felt a strange presence again, as if he was not alone. He finally asked out loud, “When will I see you and why do you follow me?” He was blessed with a feeling of well being and retired.
Saturday morning, Jason had completed all the guitar solo work and when he entered the studio he found Steven playing one of the tracks to three middle aged and well-groomed ladies. Steven introduced them; they were backing vocalists and did everything from opera to television jingles. As Jason and Brad laid down their vocal tracks they found the girls lifted them up and carried them along, an experience neither Jason nor Brad had felt before. Vic felt left out so Steven equipped him with a microphone as well and he sang along. Steven caught the vocals as quick as he could, bearing in mind the fact that if their voices were still working well at the end of the last track he could always go back and let them give it heaps.
Sunday afternoon saw some back tracking to the point where everyone was happy, leaving everything except the harmonica and sax work complete. Steven was amazed at the results which were helped by the band’s natural click together and hard work in the previous month. One of the backing vocalists, who had learned of the band’s need for a sax player to record, brought Steve’s attention to her husband, a session sax player who was doing a car commercial in one of the other studios at the same time. A short walk to the studio found him and Steven immediately threw him in the deep end with the whole band agreeing he was a very good swimmer. This guy tore through the sax solos and provided some tasteful fill in work. This only left the harmonica tracks and the mixing.
Monday morning saw Tom and Hank appear. Hank raved about the great bands he had mixed while he was in Sydney, with Tom commenting that his mixing results were good and the plan may have worked. The studio went silent as Indiana walked in wearing a black hat and sunglasses, looking like something from the Blues Brothers. He opened his carrying case, pulled out a small green microphone and jabbed the lead into o
ne of the channels on the huge mixing console.
“Just give me a listen and tell me the key the tune’s in, that’s all I need,” said Indiana.
Steven handed some headphones to Indiana and moved his microphone lead to the correct channel. “There are four tunes we have made gaps in for harp solos. You’ll only hear a rough mix,” replied Steven.
Indiana listened to the first track and chose a harmonica from the rows of them in his case, “It’s in G, sounds good, let’s go.” Indiana laid down four blistering harmonica solos in the time it took to play the four tunes twice, changing his harmonica keys to suit the key of each song. They all listened to the playback through the studio monitors.
“I’m happy if you’re happy,” said Indiana.
“You can’t get any better than the best there is,” said Jason.
Indiana packed his case and headed out, turning to Vic as he opened the door, “We’re square now Vic.” He shook Hank’s hand, “Probably won’t see you again Hank, look after yourself,” he closed the door behind him.
“Why haven’t you signed that guy up Steven? His band is fantastic; they let me mix three of their shows while I was in Sydney. I learnt heaps,” said Hank in his broad American accent.
“Everybody’s tried to sign him up Hank, but he hates us all. Indiana tried too hard before he was that good and it ruined him. You'll never fill the black hole in his heart, his wife and family are his life now, he's done it all,” replied Steven.
Hank’s father owned an American recording and distribution network and Steven could get round some of the red tape of breaking into the States by using their network. The only condition was that Hank was to produce the album, giving him some valuable experience. Hank had never been out of the States before and was only twenty-four next birthday, spending all his time with movie sound tracks after graduating from the University of New York. Hank was an African American and his father had found it hard to get him any experience with a front line production in the States and saw this as a good opportunity. If the album failed the American industry would be no wiser; if it worked, Hank would get some recognition in the states.
Jason wanted to stay in the studio while Hank was working but Steven thought it was better to leave him for a couple of days and see what he came up with. Steven explained there wasn’t much choice really as they had to take a rough mix of the three singles that would be taken from the album and head for the city as they were booked to make videos Tuesday and Wednesday. When Hank had finished the album he would then work on the videos, which no doubt he would be good at with his movie experience. Tuesday morning they left Hank with the studio engineer and headed for the city studio of Ramrod for filming.
The band and Steven disliked all the ideas that the video director had, so they sat him to one side and directed things themselves, asking his advice on technical points occasionally. They used classic sixtys cars as props, along with Harley Davidson motor cycles, and a quick phone call to Malinda saw some very attractive women from the Sydney Malvanna modelling agency taking part. Guitars and drums in tow, the whole thing moved to different areas of Sydney from the beach to the Cross, during daylight and darkness, tacking advantage of the two full days to get plenty of material. They left the besieged director shaking his head, with instructions that an American producer called Hank would be coming to show them how it’s done and returned to the Blue Mountains with their fingers crossed.
Wednesday morning and Hank had done well. Six final mixes complete with the band agreeing that the result was a good compromise taking everything into consideration. Jason was not completely happy, but his objections were small. He said nothing, not wanting to draw things out, as he was missing Malinda and Tammy. He was also learning a lot about compromise and its ability to enhance life. Hank would not rest and worked on in the studio alone as the band set about designing a CD cover and naming the album.
The band was sitting around the pool in front of the complex. Tom had returned to Adelaide for some engagements with touring Ramrod bands. Steven took time out from having a phone glued to his ear and joined them at the pool.
“Have you come up with anything yet?” asked Steven. “The printers have everything ready and want the name.”
“We come up with plenty but nothing that really fits,” replied Jason.
“How about just calling it ‘Full On’ the band,” suggested Steven.
“No, what’s happened is really different. Everybody’s efforts deserve more than that,” said Brad.
Steven lit a cigarette and nodded, “Yeah, I think you’re right there Brad. We’ve been breaking every rule with this right from the start.”
Vic’s face lit up, “That’s it Steven, you’re a genius! Breaking every rule, that’s great.”
“Things just keep moving along, like we can’t do anything wrong. ‘Full On’, their first album, ‘Breaking Every Rule’, what do you reckon Brad?” said Jason.
“Print it,” replied Brad.
Steven and Hank saw the band off at the airport on Saturday morning. They were all nursing hangovers from the previous night after celebrating, except Jason, who had stuck to his usual mineral water. Hank had finished the master tape early Friday and Steven took it straight to the CD plant and got them a few copies of the CD hot off the press just before they went to the airport. Most major city radio stations would have a copy by Tuesday and it would be in retail outlets all over the country by Wednesday. Hank would start on the video clip straight away and even Jason was surprised with the results Hank had got for them in such a short time. A lot of producers would have spent a month doing what Hank had done in a week. In a week the band was to start an Australian tour taking in all major cities starting in Adelaide. Steven handed them the itinerary explaining that it was a tough one; fifteen gigs in three weeks. Hank was to make a backing tape for their live shows with the sax, harmonica, rhythm guitar and backing vocals on, so the band would have to stick to the album arrangements until they could find permanent members to play the parts. The band didn’t like it much but things were moving too fast for them to do anything about it.
Jason, Vic and Brad boarded the plane. Steven waited outside the rest room on the way out of the airport for Hank, who had rushed into a cubicle. Hank had only slept for about four hours a day in the last week. He pulled down the toilet pan cover, knelt down in front of it and wiped the surface clean with toilet paper. He reached inside the lining of his jacket pulling out a small plastic bag containing white powder. He arranged a neat line of the powder on the surface of the toilet seat, about four inches long with a credit card. Pure cocaine. He rolled a fifty-dollar note into a tube the size of a large straw. Hank ran the end of the tube along the line of powder with the other end up his right nostril, as he sniffed heavily, with his left nostril blocked by his left index finger. Hank’s eyes watered slightly as the powder dispersed in the membranes of his nose. He casually walked from the cubicle and joined Steven for the drive back to the studio. Hank was staying awake on borrowed time.
During the flight back to Adelaide Jason arranged for a rehearsal on Thursday, with Tom playing the backing tape. Jason had never used one before but Vic and Brad were familiar with the practice. They were all tired and looking forward to a few days rest.