Puke Session

So we finally got some studio time to begin on the album. Unfortunately, yours truly (party) had to royally fuck shit up bu getting drunk. I guess I was just living up to my name. Anyway, my boy gumshu got us some time up @ Bennett Studios for the night & we we're ready to go. We've been noodling around with this cool, trippy chord progress for the album here & there @ his house for a few days & we're looking to embellish it up with some of the studio equipment. This was to be official Day Uno for the writing process.

I got to Englewood a little after 12 in the morning. Gum was already there finishing up work & we had to chill a bit while some punk band (named Juicehead, which I must say, unless you're name is Radiohead, stop putting "head" in your name ... it's played) finished up their session. I didn't get to hear what they sounded like, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I killed off a few of my American Spirit cancer sticks while we anxiously awaited our writing session.

After 10 or 15 minutes we got into the room we were gonna use. I brought my shitty Fender Squir (which oddly enough has a kinda cool sound) & got that shit set up. Gum let me use some effect pedals the studio had sitting around. The only one that sounded decent enough for this song was a Boss Tremolo. We got a nice warm sound outta amp to so I was thrilled. My man Gum pulled out a Motif & found a killer sound too.

Anyway, here's where the shit starts. I guess I thought it would be a good idea to bring my own Jacky Daniels for a little pre-game drinking. By pre-game drinking I mean chugging a shit load of whiskey on an empty stomach with little to no time between shots. Felt fucking great for a good hour. We starting getting into a vibe & were working out the parts for the basic layout when I felt the good ol' fashion feeling that's become my best friend since college. Needless to say for a good portion of the night I was flushing a toilet rather than plucking some strings.

I felt bad as hell cause I ruined our first session & was puking in Tony Bennett's can. Plus I the room was spinning & all the that shit. Gum was really helpful though. Part cause he's a real good friend of mine & part cause I was blowing chunks @ his work, which would worry the fuck outta me too. I guess I "sobered up" enough @ one point to have the courtesy to yak outside by the train tracks.

After a good hour of fighting the spins I realised I was gonna be no good for this session, so I made the decision to head back home. Gum convinced me to chill in the passenger seat of my car for awhile time I could see only one of things, which was a good idea. He warned me about cops cause apparently they're as much of cockfucks in Englewood as they are in Clinton, which I immediately knew spelled trouble. Literally five minutes after he went back inside to clean our gear up a pigger came rolling up. This motherfucker saw me puking in a bag & lit up like he'd just discovered the case that would promote his ass to detective. He did the tough guy cop thing & starting squawking away on his little walkie-talkie. He ran the routine. Got my licence & flashed his little light all over my car looking for his personal victory of the night ... but nothing. I don't fuck around now that I'm on probation bitches. Anyway, after many nervous minutes & questions of "Where's your stash" later, I finally realized I had done nothing wrong & my demeanor suddenly changed. My memory's a little foggy, but I went on a huge rant about how much time he's wasting on this shit & how last time I checked a 24 year man is allowed to be drunk & cleansing in a plastic bag. This is when his attitude changed & the question turned into "Is that a Fender? I play too!" What a fuck. Soon as they know that you're aware of your rights their little power trip diminishes. It felt kinda good & made me wanna puke less.

Long story long, the fucker told me to chill out @ the studio for the night & said he didn't wanna see me driving. So I went back into the studio to hang with Gum. We only stayed a few minutes (the cops passed by @ least three times to do the good ol' check up) then bounced. Gum drove me home in my car where I let one last good hurl out & ate an Egg McMuffin. It was good, & I hate McDonald's.

That's it in a nutshell. We got some work done if anything good came outta this. Plus, in the fucking hour we jammed I realized that this is definitely gonna be a great project & a killer album. We plan to be back in the studio some time next week & really start to kick shit off. This time I'm gonna go slow on Jacky Boy. But I still gots to pre-game. Until then we're just gonna keep racking up ideas for the record.

Check back next week for the details of session #2. Which I promise will be much more productive. Plus, I'll be posting photos of the experience. Until, be easy & be ready for Two New Suits.

-party