NEXT FEW DAYS!
The last blast of arctic winter has hit us and we huddle around the potbelly and laptops every morning making plans and tuning instruments. I have concocted a new breakfast with COUS COUS using dates and honey and yoghurt and cinnamon.
Engineer mR Burke has never eaten so well on a recording gig. His recent jobs were more lean and dangerous, The Drones snared animals in the forest with traps made of old guitar pedals and The Mess Hall chew their leather jackets for sustenance. We are rocking an customised recording Tagine and Indra’s magic sPICE pOUCH filled with arcane Sri Lankan goodness and we the Dan Kelly Dream Band are gonna use that stuff. We may come out sounding a little more full than those bands but i’m resigned to my place in the turgid miasma of oz rock.
Sometimes i drive to castlemaine pool to wrestle with the bandaids in the 17 meter (!) lap lane in a vain bid to stay fit. But after a couple of attempts i give up and resign myself to recording unhealthiness.
It’s about this point that i start developing feelings of dread and inadequacy as i stand tracking in a little hallway behind the band with nothing but a full length mirror of myself to look at . Take after take, Malkovitch after Malkovitch, i start freaking that the record won’t be done in time, my lyrics are shit, my guitar playing is too Malkmus and my voice is weak. This happens periodically anyway but the full length mirror in front of me starts to magnify the vortex of insincerity until i feel like i’m caught in the spirals in the middle of a black sabbath album
To take my mind of the pointless boredom of my worries i concentrate on Dave and Indra’s constant good natured baiting of each other and Dallas’ collection of ACID t shirts.
DALLAS IN ONE OF MANY ACID THEMED SHIRTS
Meanwhile Burke sits in his tiny bedroom which is about 4 degrees warm and calls the shots. His beard is growing and his hair matting and he start to morph into his alter ego, BLACK RAINBOW.
Dallas heads home for a day and we get through a couple of songs without keys – I was a Teenage Classical DJ at Dandenong Station, and Stressing Out! Stressing Out! is about being drunk at hot yoga
and falling over after realising that i don’t have a single yet. It actually sounds like a single to me, but i’m bored of the Jackson Brown-esque focus on my life in the music industry that a couple of these songs are alluding to , and vow to change the lyrics in the middle of doing the third take. Of course with my speed at lyric writing that one move threatens to blow the whole album off course. So i’m stressing out about my single Stressing out which is about Stressing out about not having a single and Malkovitch Malkovitch Malkovitch ugh.
I start making a shrine to my Naturopath out of guitar picks and old Rolling Stone magazines and praying to it every night for guidance.
What would Nick Cave do?