On October 29, 2000, I started working at Rob’s studio.
It’s June 20, 2002, and the CD is done.
I never intended to spend this much time on the CD. The stretch of time alone is misleading; it’s been under 200 hours total, including the mastering, so less than a month of normal days, all told. Just spread out over almost two years.
Thursday I spent the whole day mastering the CD at Southern Living At It’s Finest. Rob was there, too, something he usually charges for, but I think after this much time (and the rush at the end to finish it) he wanted to make sure it survived intact.
There aren’t any useful details to really bore you with. Alex Lowe, who did the mastering, did a great job, particularly at working in the extra little incidental bits, and tweaking the sound occasionally when the mix suffered a bit from the aforementioned rush.
The process itself was pretty light-hearted, a lot of joking going on. A good lunch from some French sandwich shop. The studio is a high-class affair, Shawn Mullins does work there, and it’s right next to the studio where Outkast work, so a lot of work flows between the two. It’s all very swank.
When we got to the point where we started burning the CDs, I had a really stupid grin on my face. You know how it felt, when you were a kid, and you spent all of December waiting for Christmas, and everything you did; school, being at home, playing with friends, good or bad; couldn’t escape from the association with what month it was and what was coming. The gnawing of waiting for that morning to finally come.
Imagine that feeling stretched out over a year and a half, and then add it to the feeling you had once you woke up Christmas morning and first saw the tree and the gifts. That should give you some idea.
When I left I still had the same stupid grin. Not so much from the result of the effort, but just from the effort finally ending. I still hadn’t really listened to it from start to finish yet, I mean, I heard each song multiple times during mastering, but never finally laid out, in order, with everything in place. But I felt good.
And, since sometimes days are just good to you, I put my hand in my pocket and my keys were gone. I looked in the car and they were in the ignition. I knew I was screwed. But for the hell of it, I tried the passenger door. It was, of course, unlocked. Something I NEVER do.
Which would make a fine literary ending to a good day. But this is reality, and there is more, of course. I finally listened. Start to finish, for the first time, late last night. The shine has worn off and I feel slightly less confident. There are a few things I need to listen to again later today; things that I’m not sure might be problems. It’s hard to tell with my stereo, which has one speaker slowly going out.
Plus, I’m still in a vacuum, I have the finished CD, but no way of knowing if it works, if it does what I want it to, if it will translate for everyone else the way I wanted it to. There are odd little things going on, that could be seen as good or bad, depending on how they strike someone.
For three months, I won’t have a clue, really, whether it worked. I still feel good, but the goofiness is gone. Bear with me while I wait. And wait.