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London Calling

A bassist's eye view of OK Hotel recording in the big smoke...

Sometimes in order to get what you want you have to take risks. After being put in contact with producer Peter Lorentz, we decided to take our biggest risk yet as a band. The choice was to go into a conventional studio and record a full EP, or hire a name producer and record one amazing track, costing considerably more than normal studio rates. The decision was made, and so we were off to Camden, London to record in the home studio of Peter Lorentz, a producer who has worked with My Bloody Valentine, James, Kula Shaker (oops) and numerous others. Later he told us he had also worked with Eternal and, perhaps more shamefully, on Kelle Bryan's post-Eternal solo work. However, it felt good to be in the same studio graced by THE pioneering bands of grunge; Captain America, Eugene etc (look for their names on Kurt Cobain's T-Shirts), and other notable musicians such as Kevin Shields and Bernard Butler. So the risk was taken, the hotel was booked, the train tickets were bought, and this is how it all happened...

Early morning on Friday 21st December myself and Matthias were on the A12 heading for London. Matthias was hungover from a heavy night's drinking, and thoughts of puke stains in my parents car were not absent from my mind. Chris, Rick and Mouldi would meet us later at the studio, and we made good progress and arrived at the address in Camden Town shortly after 11:00. Pressed the buzzer, no reply. Pressed the buzzer again, no reply. Pressed another buzzer (legal consulants I think), no reply. Damn. We rang Peter, no answer, left a message on his answerphone saying we were outside, and actually quite cold. Eventually he came to the door..."you're a day early!"..."errr...no we're not!". So, anyway, it was agreed that recording would begin today, and we were led through the large, imposing building, out through a small yard and into a shed at the bottom of the garden. It didn't immediately appear to be a very sophisticated studio - two tiny rooms, one of which had an assortment of digital and analogue gear. Anyway, unperturbed, recording began in earnest - Rick started laying down the drums whilst the rest of the hotel crew went off to find edibles, and ended up in the Ruby In The Dust restaurant, where we had previously eaten on the first visit to Camden to meet Zac. On returning to the studio we were told that the drums weren't yet completed, and so we headed off to Kings Cross to suss out our hotel, with Peter Lorentz warning us not to "look at anyone, speak to anyone, or even be there after dark". Feeling the fear, Matthias, Mouldi and Myself headed off to (according to Peter) "the worst place in the country", carefully removing the Dr Dre badge from my bag en-route.

"Too much of a good thing is...BRILLIANT!!!" (Matthias)

The worst place in the country didn't seem too bad as we arrived at the distinctly rock'n'roll(ly) titled 'Hotel California', which certainly didn't seem like the worst hotel in the country - not bad at all for the price - we checked in and made our way through a maze of corridors to Room 04, which was fine, give or take the odd blood stain on the walls, and the odd piece of exposed wiring. So, relieved, we headed back to the studio, where the drums were complete, Rick was leaving satisfied after a good day's work, and I proceeded to lay down bass parts with slightly unexpected ease. Guitar lines were then added, until a day was called, drink was purchased, and Chris, Matthias, Mouldi and Myself went to the chippy and then got a cab to the Hotel California, where the evening's entertainment commenced.

Maybe the word "entertainment" is a little strong. The evening's activities consisted of drinking beer, playing charades, drinking a bottle of vodka, Matthias showing us his arse several times, drinking a bit more, watching Graham Norton, going to sleep. In the morning we headed to check out the 'full English breakfast' we had been promised. A bit rough really - cold, tough, and the milk for the tea and coffee was solid, and wouldn't dissolve despite aggressive stirring. Nice. So we paid up and headed to Camden Market where Chris purchased a Smashing Pumpkins 'demos and rarities' CD and Matthias bought a couple of T-Shirts and a bong. We also bought some ancient looking 'UK-Cool' playing cards for the long day ahead. On returning to the studio we reassured Peter that we hadn't been stabbed or shot (we're hard! Honest!), and Matthias started recording his keyboard parts. The set-up was ideal for Matthias's style, feeding the keyboard part into a computer which could then be used to put his playing in time and eliminate the wrong notes. I think it had been designed with Matthias in mind. When this was complete Mouldi finished his guitar parts and headed back to Ipswich for a gig, Chris began laying down his vocals, and Matthias and myself smoked in the yard. The vocals went swimmingly until the last line ("I never saw the dawn"), whose melody seemed elusive. Chris gets annoyed (understatement), Peter makes deconstructive criticism and moans about being "uneconomical with time", Matthias and myself play cards. Chris gets more annoyed and leaves to clear his head/freeze his arse off. Matthias impresses Peter with his bong, and does more work on his keyboard part, I get increasingly bored, Chris returns and finishes his vocals in one take. Sorted. Cue boring muso-shit ("why won't my sustain pedal work?", "why is this guitar out of tune?", "why is the midi-sequencer altering settings of it's own accord?"), a couple of long conversations about politics (bloody Margaret Thatcher...(yawn)), racism, religion and Mouldi's sister (naked)...and the track was completed except for mixing, sounding pretty fucking cool, and time for us to head back to Ipswich, where there was rumoured to be snow.

"Whenever I go to Mayfair I'm always surprised it's not purple" (Matthias)

So we packed up our stuff, said our goodbyes, and headed off to get lost in London. I never understand why they have four lanes on many roads, when two would blatantly be sufficient. Anyway, lostness over, we stopped at McDonalds for a much needed food/fag break, and continued our journey, listening to The Fidelity Wars and that amazing Chicane track which I don't know the name off. Eventually, after by-passing a major accident near Colchester, we arrived back in Ipswich (yes! Snow!) and, after a couple of little skids on the ice, were home.

Recording is one of those strange things, like masturbation, extreme drunkness, and 80's music, that you can completely love and hate simultaneously. It is the biggest buzz hearing a track coming together, yet you having a fucking boring, shit time doing it. What impressed me most about Peter Lorentz was that he didn't treat us like some poxy little band of amateurs form Ipswich, instead he worked with us as if we were recording what was destined to become a number one single. Definately a perfectionist, only the best was good enough, and gave us that little nudge quality-wise that I think we needed. We decided to take the risk and have got a fucking good track out of it...whether it'll do it's job and get us a good record deal is yet to be seen. We'll keep you posted.



 





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