Gradually each song would lodge itself in my mind, becoming ingrained enough to allow me to "be" each member of Bob's back-up band. This is important to mention, because I couldn't be the drummer or play anything else until the song came alive inside my head. It was not just a matter of memorizing patterns. Each song was like a painting inside a gallery. In some cases a song could be a little world unto itself. I did my best to find myself inside that world, and not simply be a technician providing serviceable backup.
Once the song's basic building blocks were in place, I could add in the extras (keyboards, homemade samples and percussion). The next stage was creating a stereo instrumental mix, which I would send off to Bob. This was the part I think Bob enjoyed best - getting the music mixes and hearing for the first time how the finished songs would sound behind his vocals. It was then time for Bob to come up to the studio and lay down his final vocals. Gradually, step by step, I witnessed each song come alive, and shared in Bob's excitement at the vocal recording sessions. Saying it was magical will seem clichÃ, but that's how it felt much of the time. Next came the vocal mixing, and finally, the songs were sent off for mastering.
The work began with me studying Bob's demos and learning Bob's guitar parts. Once I put the main guitar parts down, they served as the foundation for each song. In other words, I carried on by playing the drums, following along with the guitar tracks. In effect, I was pretending to be a band, doing my best to play off the energy of that other "me" who played whatever other instruments I was not playing at the time. Once the drums were down, layering on new instruments became less troublesome thanks to the timekeeping.
I associate Silverfish Trivia with The Crawling Distance, but on that later album the solemn, downbeat songs were offset by a few playful rockers and a couple of pretty tracks. That sort of wide-swinging dynamic was missing on the original, full-length Silverfish Trivia. Instead of keeping listeners off balance, it kept an even keel throughout. Maybe this was the problem. Anyway, Bob's solution was to keep the best three songs, add in a few quietly unassuming but emotionally affecting tracks to solidify the mood, and make it an EP. The result is a record with a big, low-key personality - if that makes sense? Anyway, it's not the sort of personality Bob is generally known and appreciated for. This might be why Silverfish Trivia and The Crawling Distance remain my two personal favorites among the solo albums I recorded with Bob.
I understand how Psycho and the Birds might be regarded as a hiccup or tiny footnote in Bob's career, but I'll try my best to make the case for bothering to listen to (and get acquainted with) the band's third and final album We've Moved (2008). It's an album that may require a period of adjustment before the enjoyment arrives.
Bob's demo process sometimes comes in two stages. First comes the initial run with Bob seated with guitar in front of his recorder (in those days the famous cassette boom box pictured in the chapter on F.A.C.E. and on the cover of Circus Devils' Five), with the melody taking shape inside a mixture of legible phrases and nonsense syllables. From there, stage 2 picks up with Bob taking that first version and honing the melody and writing proper lyrics to carry it. Many of the Psycho and the Birds songs were built upon the foundation of Bob's stage-1 demos before the lyrics were fleshed out. Instead of lamenting this fact, think of it instead as eavesdropping on Bob while he's in the throes of giving birth to a new song and travelling on a self-propelled wave of instant discovery. And he's not alone on the wave. Riding along with Psycho are The Birds, doing their best to keep up.
I decided to delay my discomfort and begin with the songs I knew I'd enjoy working on best. I especially enjoyed playing 'To the Path!' and 'Confessions Of A Teenage Jerk-off'. 'Western Centipede,' 'No One But I' and 'Weatherman and Skin Goddess' were also stress-free and enjoyable. These songs were no less polished and carefully composed by Bob, so I have no idea why the other half of the album caused me so much trouble.
At the time of making We All Got Out of The Army, I was excited to have my own place for recording but also anxious about the kind of sounds I might get. At the old Waterloo, the drum room was spacious thanks to the hardwood floor. I was accustomed to that room and the sound of the drums in there. My basement has cramped rooms with linoleum floors and concrete block walls. In other words, it's a terrible environment for recording drums. So, I built a shallow wooden riser for the drums and put them in a room padded down with insulation to prevent the kind of ugly standing waves basements are notorious for. The result was one of the best-sounding records I did with Bob. I made good use of a digital reverb that simulated a room sound, which I was against using in principle, but coupled with the wooden drum riser, it worked out fine.
This would be the only time I recorded an album of Bob's outside a studio (including my basement studio). It also meant that my neighbors had a chance to listen in. The nice lady who lives across the street commented, "You sure like to play the same things over and over." I probably should have reassured her that I wasn't really losing my mind, just busy recording my drum and guitar parts and trying my best to play them all the way through from beginning to end without flubbing.
When searching for guitar tones on 'Fighting the Smoke,' I remember turning the dial on my line-6 distortion box and waiting for Bob to choose the sound he liked best. I made it around the dial twice, each time bypassing the one sound I knew Bob would not choose because it was too nasty. On the third time around the dial landed on that nasty sound, and Bob called out "Hey, that's the one!" The overpowering guitar tone is practically the only thing you hear on that song.
This is an album that contains all 4 P's according to Bob's theory of musical completeness: (Psych, Pop, Punk and Prog). I like that it keeps listeners on their toes. Contributing to the variety here are 2 songs recorded at Bob's house ('Strange And Pretty Day' and 'Igloo Hearts'). Bob played all the main instruments on 'Igloo Hearts' with a couple of keyboard additions from me, doing my best to embed them into Bob's music. "Strange and Pretty Day" is all Bob.
My favorites on Blazing Gentlemen are ''Faking the Boy Scouts' and 'Red Flag Down.' I like to mention my favorites not because I think they are the best songs. I've noticed over the years that when other people mention their favorites to me, they are almost always not the ones I choose. This has been true all across the work I've done with Bob, including Circus Devils. One thing that makes the albums I did with Bob so interesting is the wide variety of songwriting approaches and musical styles. There is bound to be a wide range of opinions about what is best, and nobody is wrong. You might even disagree with yourself as you get older. I think the elusiveness of the songs helps to make Bob's work an endless trip of discovery and re-discovery for anyone who wants to dive in and explore. To what extent the richness of the big picture of Bob's work is recognized by the music press, I don't know. But I suspect this "big picture" is probably not even in view.
Faulty Superheroes is full of rock-solid songs that pack a heavy punch thanks to Kevin's drumming. I especially admire the expert way Kevin handles his tom fills. The sound is big, naturalistic (uncolored by processing) and somehow messy at the same time. Chris Keffer, my go-to mastering guy, commented that in his opinion, this album had the best sound out of all the Pollard albums he'd mastered for us.
I tried to get that energic SRV Sound in this patch which should fit most rhythmic Blues/Funk guitar playing. Works best with Strat Style (single Coil) pickups in Neck position. I hope you'll have as...
"Look After You" was released as the third single from the album. It peaked at No. 59 on the Hot 100 chart and was the band's first single to miss the Top 40.[25] The song was written by the lead singer of the Fray Isaac Slade. It is about his then girlfriend and future wife. How to Save a Life peaked at No. 15 on the U.S. Billboard 200 chart, and charted in the top ten in Australia, Canada, Ireland, New Zealand and the UK and was certified the best-selling digital album of all time, breaking the record held previously by Coldplay's X&Y.[28][29]
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