In the recording studio in Arizona, the recording of an album containing nothing but good songs was underway. However, his fellow bandmates weren't measuring up, except for Spencer. The drummer was good; he had good control of the drums. However, he didn't compare to the genius of Spencer, who could portray the songs perfectly, as Billy desired. For instance, the guitar in "Like a Stone" needed to be skillful to achieve the relevant sound. It was certain that Spencer had been practicing for a long time.
-Let's take a break. We'll do it the same way as 20 days ago; Billy will record separately, and you guys will adapt to the track. If I see that the song still has deficiencies, we'll make adjustments in production. However, we'll likely record the take separately, - said Jerry. Josh Robert nodded as he sat down with a sugar egg to take notes of the possible next arrangements.
Sugar egg had improved immensely, much to Billy's surprise. He probably practiced the top five songs like a possessed man to bring the drums to where Billy desired. Sugar Egg was known by the name Jackman, ironically different from all the known names being nicknames. The closest was Jack, although he doubted his name was Jack.
Billy's mother was working; being a weekday, he was alone in the studio, revisiting the tracks. They were expecting to take notes for "Clint Eastwood," which required a smooth guitar and some drums, followed by playing "In Too Deep."
That was the agenda for these days.
-Billy, are you ready with the song? - asked Jerry.
-Yes, I can make some sounds that I want to go at the beginning of the song before the drums come in, - asked Billy.
Josh Roibert gave the OK with his extended hand.
Upon entering the studio, Billy used his mimicking ability, the phonetic scream of Billy, similar to a monkey perhaps, to a distant scream, followed by a mockery, deep. In his mind, he felt the drums come in as if it were normal.
-Uhuhuuhuh. -
The song curiously fit with Billy's life. However, this time, instead of transforming into a rap that hits hard in every verse, the vocalization was slower, along with a more rhythmic chorus.
What the song produced in him was ecstasy, nothing greater than the ecstasy of liberation, falling on a parachute, millions of kilometers high, above the stratosphere, watching the sunrise, and falling meters away from the correctional facility, while the guards watched him with their mouths open for the daring gesture, or sailing on a motor raft while enjoying a game of orange.
The madness of the song was an identity that expressed, in the exquisiteness of the incomplete, the joy of living daily.
…
🎵🎶🎶🎵
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
Yeah
Ha, ha!
🎵🎶🎶🎵
...
The beginning was more melodic, followed by an obvious rap-rock; the music was simply strange, but it hit every scene.
…
🎵🎶🎶🎵
Finally, someone let me out of my cage
Now, time for me is nothing, 'cause I'm counting no age
Now, I couldn't be there, now you shouldn't be scared
I'm good at repairs and I'm under each snare
Intangible! Bet you didn't think, so I command you to
Panoramic view, look, I'll make it all manageable
Pick and choose, sit and lose all your different crews
Chicks and dudes, who do you think is kickin' tunes?
🎵🎶🎶🎵
...
While Billy sang, Jerry once again knocked against the song, an obvious classic, composed by Billy, almost produced. It had the spark of a star lost in his thoughts.
-If he has to go to jail to produce such good songs, it's a miracle that not all prisoners are global successes, - Jerry thought.
Spencer, similarly, nodded in surprise at his student's music, which lacked the education he had. If he had been dedicated to music from childhood, he would surely be three times better than he is now.
It was incredibly good, almost bringing tears to his eyes, for the sadness of the song. Are young people's thoughts so complex and strong? As if tomorrow held doubts, Spencer could see a sunset, falling, suspended in the air, while everything happened, a creation of moments, millions of years of humanity to see a perfect sunrise. Like a shooting star, a meteor crashing into a city and leaving everyone speechless, he brushed the dirt off his clothes, only walking to the disbelief of the people.
…
🎵🎶🎶🎵
Picture you gettin' down in a picture tube
Like you lit the fuse
Do you think it's fictional, or mystical? Maybe!
A spiritual, hero who appears
In you to clear your view when you're too crazy
Lifeless, to those the definition of what life is
Priceless to you, because I put you on the hype shit
Do you like it?
Gun smokin' righteous with one toke
You're psychic among those
Possess you with one go
I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
🎵🎶🎶🎵
….
The caloric expenditure of the song remained heavy and painful. But now he could endure it.
-So, what did you think? - asked Billy.
-Excellent, young man. We'll do some takes to see how the instruments adapt, and we'll pray that they fit the sequence. It would be a shame to ruin such a song because of a couple of bad drum entries, - said Josh, delivering a fatal blow to poor Jackman, who scratched his bald head in defeat. He felt humbled; the vocalist was a precision machine hitting every note like Mike Tyson in his glory days, and the guitarist was a metronome that never missed a beat, playing the piano, trumpet, violin, and bass.
-Where did they come from? - Jackman had spent his whole life behind a drum kit, playing to the point where he knew the songs of many famous bands. He had never felt so diminished. But this was his opportunity; he could see the shine, the fame of being a drummer, and the money that could come with it if he dedicated himself to the songs. Slow songs weren't his preference. He would surprise everyone when he showed how well he could handle "Chop Suey"; he had a special knack for it because of the rhythms that were familiar to him.
-I'll do everything I can, - said Sugar Egg, taking his place behind the drums.
Settling into the drum kit, Spencer explained, with some notes played by Spencer, his drum notes, a guide that listed how and when the drums had to do their part to deliver a strong or soft hit. It was a brilliant guide Spencer had made for almost all the songs, except for a few where he still needed to ask Billy about the more complicated artistic sense, like "Teenager" and "Can't Stop."
The drumming was good; Jackman restrained himself as much as he could and followed the rhythm, although he was off by 1/8, which in music was significant. With Josh Roibert's editing work, it was more than easy to blend the song to give it a sufficient refrain. Spencer followed, softly playing the guitar perfectly in this song.
The contrast between Spencer and Jackman was that one had plenty of confidence, and the other didn't have much. Only his hard work and the privacy of the place gave him space to interpret the song perfectly.
-Do you think they can do the song in one take? - asked Josh Roibert.
-Not for now. We have little time, and the album must be perfect. The chemistry isn't right, and they need more time to adapt, - said Jerry, giving the drummers time to practice.
-Well, it's my turn. I like this one a bit more, - said Billy, testing the next song. "In Too Deep" by Sum 41.
He would record all the songs over and over again while the others used the days when Billy was in the correctional facility to perfect the music of the album, package it, and release it by July 18th. The 2000s era continued to have a strong influence on rock, with several emerging bands, some still active, and music was at its peak. However, he knew that electronic music, pop, rap, and ballads would be prioritized in the coming years.
...
At the state correctional facility for dangerous criminals, Connor played the drums over and over again. He was the only person who knew that Billy was recording an album that would start to be released, and he knew he could be replaced if he didn't hurry to practice. He played almost 18 hours a day, in his mind, in his small room under the yoke of darkness, while they exercised, practiced over and over again, with the intensity of a hundred men.
His destiny was the drums; without them, there would be nothing left.
...