Off the Record

“Does this sound right to you?” John asked, scratching his elbow absently while holding a half of a large set of headphones to his ear. “I think it’s off.”

“Let me see,” said Will, slipping his own set of heavy headphones onto his head. “Run it again, would you?”

Aaron nodded, clicking through a variety of computer screens crawling with sound levels and recording data. “Coming right up!”

The three were crammed into a tiny recording station that was really better suited for a career as a closet. Microphones, amps, and other equipment were strewn around the area, and a labyrinth of cords and wires laced between their scattered instruments to form a twisted web of plastic.

Four minutes of silence followed as they concentrated on the latest version of what was to be the second track of their first album, listening for any errors and generally forming an opinion on the overall feel of the current build.

“He’s right,” Will sighed as the song ended, tearing off his headphones and hanging them over a microphone stand. “It sounds flat. We need to fix it.”

“It’s not flat,” Aaron argued, pointed at a nearby tuner. “Everything’s in perfect pitch.”

John shook his head. “It’s not ‘absence of sharp’ flat. It’s just…” He trailed off as his normally impressive diction failed him.

“It’s missing something,” Will glanced at John. “Right? It sounds empty.”

“Exactly.”

Aaron furrowed his brow, staring at the computer screen and thinking. “So we either need to add something new or double a few of these parts.”

“Yeah. Maybe both,” John said, disentangling himself from the sound booth’s wiry restraints. “Think about our options – I need to get some air.”

“Me too,” said Will. “We’ve been at this for hours and I need a drink. Let’s take ten.”

Aaron watched as the others left, idly coiling and uncoiling a bit of nearby cable while staring at the screen’s audio levels. Rhythm guitar, lead guitar, drums, lead vocals, harmony vocals…everything seemed to be in order, and yet they were right. It was missing something. What could we add?

Slipping a set of headphones on, he ran the track another time and closed his eyes. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk, and suddenly the world of music was interrupted by a garbled cacophony of dissonant noise. Aaron’s eyes flew open as he realized he’d accidentally leaned on the studio’s keyboard.

He grinned and began to toy around with various chords and musical phrases, playing over the recording and changing the keyboard’s sound settings as he looked for something that would fill in the gaps. Electric piano, organ, harp, violins, chimes, woodwinds – nothing sounded right.

Then he found the horns.

The addition of brass changed everything, lending the song the feeling of depth it had been lacking. Aaron laughed, switching on the recording tools to add a track of keyboard to the mix. He bridged the empty gaps between verses, complimented the lead and rhythm guitar parts, and even set aside a small solo near the penultimate chorus which built beautifully into the existing minor-to-major key change.

As a guitarist and singer who played keyboards but rarely practiced with them, he sat amazed as the notes flew from his fingertips like tendrils of magic, enchanting the song and shaping it into something that finally sounded complete.

This never happens! Do people with actual talent feel like this all the time?

John and Will returned about half an hour later to find Aaron balancing sound levels on the computer screen.

“Alright, so let’s just record another take,” John said, picking up his guitar and fumbling for a pick. “Maybe redo the vocals, too. Anything to help.”

“Way ahead of you,” Aaron beamed, holding out a pair of headphones to each in turn. “Slap these on and tell me what you think.”

They looked dubiously at one another, wearing identical expressions of ‘Oh God, what have you done?’, but obediently slipped the gear over their heads.

Infinite seconds ticked by as the song opened into the first verse. Aaron waited patiently, knowing this section was unchanged, and watched their faces for indications of recognition. Midway through the first verse, a look of confusion flashed across Will’s features while John glanced up with a nervous smile.

Thirty seconds later, both were grinning from ear to ear.

As the final notes of the song faded away, the two tore off their headphones and looked at Aaron incredulously.

“Dude,” said Will, pointing at the keyboard, “you’re a WIZARD.”

“Seriously. You pounded that out in what, ten minutes?”

Aaron blushed slightly and shrugged. “I take it you guys liked it?”

“Loved it,” John nodded. “Run it again with just rhythm and vocals. We’ll work around the lead guitar and slap down a final keyboard track.”

Will laughed, heading for his guitar. “Why does it feel like we’re starting over?”

“Because we kind of are,” Aaron replied, cracking his knuckles over the keyboard. “But don’t worry – there’s only six songs to go!”

The group turned their attention toward their instruments, adjusting mics and calming their nerves as the room slowly faded into silence. Will clicked a button on the computer and silently rattled off the count with his fingers.

Three. Two. One. He paused before the final signal. Go!