The tune just sounds good played that way, he told himself. Besides, it’s fun to do hard rock. It gets the adrenaline rolling. The listeners are going to love it.
“All right,” he told the musicians. “We worked on the basic distorted melody and the beat last week. Charlie, Coop, are you two fairly comfortable with the basics?”
“I’m down with it,” said Coop. “The basics anyway.”
“Me too,” said Charlie. “It’s not as repetitive as a pop beat, that’s for sure, but it’s not overly complex either.”
Jake nodded. “I’ll probably want to throw in some tempo changes for the intro and the bridge section as we work it up more.”
“Awesome, dude!” Coop said enthusiastically. He loved challenging drumming; and having multiple tempo changes and flourishes was sweeter than a hit of the finest green in his opinion.
“I thought you’d like that,” Jake said, smiling.
“Damn right I will,” Coop said.
“Me too,” Charlie said. “It really is like the old Intemp days, isn’t it?”
Jake glanced at him, that uneasy feeling coming back a bit. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess it is ... in a way, you know.” He looked over at Celia. “How about you, C. You feel comfortable with the rhythm?”
She gave him a little smile. “It’s a little harder than I’m used to—all of you keep your ‘that’s what she said’ jokes to yourself, thank you very much—but nothing I can’t handle.”
Jake smiled at her. “‘That’s what she said’ staying internal,” he said. He looked over at the piano and the quickly-approaching-middle-age woman sitting behind it. “Liz, I want to start having you throw some piano fills into the tune. Mostly on the changeovers for now, though I’ll likely want to see if we can have you do a section of primary melody in there somewhere, probably for the intro—kind of like in Playing Those Games, you know?”
Liz looked very doubtful at this. “I’ll see what I can do, Jake,” she promised. “I have to be honest though, this tune is a little higher and heavier on the rock music scale than anything I’ve done before.”
“Understood,” Jake said, nodding. “You’ll get the feel of it. You’re a professional with a good ear.”
“If you say so,” she said, not quite appeased.
Jake thought of giving her a little more encouragement, then decided against it. “All right,” he said. “Let’s get it on. I’ll open with the primary riff. Rhythm section, pick me up after the first rep. Celia, you jump in after the second rep, and then I’ll start putting down the lyrics. We’ll run through it a few times until we can make it to where the bridge will be and then shut it down. Liz, you just listen for now, plug yourself in the best you can, try to get in the groove, and then start thinking about where and how you could throw in those fills.”
Everyone gave their agreement with this plan.
“Let’s do it then,” Jake said, gripping his guitar and putting his pick in his fingers.
They did it. Everyone except Jake had their music scores in front of them to make it easier to follow along. Jake ground out the main riff. Coop and Charlie hammered the backbeat. Celia played the distorted rhythm. They ran through the first two reps and then Jake began to sing the lyrics he’d written. It was an intelligent, thoughtful tune using the concept of dark matter, the theoretical unseen matter that made up the majority of the mass of the universe and served, among other things, to help bind galaxies together (Nerdly had told Jake about dark matter one stoned night long ago and the subject had fascinated Jake ever since), as an analogy for the human need for socialization and companionship.
It was a rough draft of the tune, that was for sure. There were several instances of missed bars, missed timing, tempo slips, and sour notes as fingers that had not developed muscle memory quite yet fretted out unfamiliar chords. But, all in all, it came out sounding more or less like music—a coordinated effort of multiple instruments.
“Not bad,” Jake said with a shrug after the first run-through. “Maybe not Grammy material just yet, but we’re working on it.”
“Sorry about the sour notes on the changeovers,” Celia said. “My fingers just aren’t used to it yet.”
“It’ll come with repetition,” Jake said. “Let’s do it again.”
They did it again, and then again, and then two more times, getting a little better, a little smoother with each run-through, making it sound more and more like professionally produced music instead of a high school band in a basement. As they worked, Nerdly and Sharon played around with the board, communicating with each other all the while, both of them frequently making notes on their copies of the score. They both seemed to be getting into the tune quite nicely. Laura and Natalie simply watched from the sidelines; their instruments idle since they weren’t going to be used for this particular tune. Natalie seemed to be enjoying the song. She was smiling and nodding her head to the beat, her shoulders shrugging in time. Laura also seemed to at least have an appreciation for what they were trying to do. Her foot tapped to the beat, her expression thoughtful. Only Liz seemed to be having issues. Her foot stayed still, her shoulders immobile, a slight frown upon her face.
Jake noticed this. “What do you think, Liz?” he asked her. “Is it starting to grow on you? Starting to feel the groove?”
“Well ... maybe a little,” she said, almost as if was a question.
“Any thoughts for those fills?” Jake asked. “At this point, if you feel inspired, you should just jump right in and throw them down.”
“Uh ... well ... I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t feel particularly inspired, honestly. If you could maybe give me an idea what it is you’re looking for?”
Jake’s brow went up a bit. “Just your basic fill,” he told her. “A little flourish of piano notes playing on top of the melody to enhance the flow of the tune.”
“I know what a fill is,” she said. “I’m just ... not really sure what you’re looking for in these particular fills. Maybe if ... Laura could play out one, or maybe Nat, and I could see what you’re after.”
Jake frowned a little. “The sax or the violin wouldn’t quite match the tone we’re shooting for here,” he said. “I’m not sure that would be helpful.”
“Oh...” she said. “I see. Well, maybe if ... I don’t know...”
“How about if I show you what he’s looking for?” Nerdly suddenly suggested.
Liz looked up at him. “You?”
Nerdly nodded. “I do have some experience playing the piano, you know.”
“Yes, of course I know that,” she said.
“And I’ve played with Jake for years. I think I have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind. May I?”
“Uh ... yeah, sure,” Liz said, standing up from her instrument and backing away.
Nerdly walked over to her seat and sat down. He cracked his knuckles and put them on the keys. He then began to play scales, getting the feel of her instrument, plugging himself into it. Jake smiled as he heard his old friend play. Though Nerdly had played synthesizer on their previous albums, those had mostly been overdubs and secondary melodies and fills and most of his time had been spent on engineering and mixing. He had done no piano work at all since the last Intemperance album more than five years ago. And it was as if he had never taken a break. Even though he was only playing scales, it was clear he was far superior a pianist than Liz—as good as she was—could ever hope to be.