He calmed the storm inside and stilled the waves.
It would have been a bit more helpful if she’d put something simple. Like, there’s nothing to worry about, Jase. Or hey, Jase, you’re fucked.
The last thing he felt like doing was interpreting just how badly he was about to get his arse kicked.
He led them into the studio and found Jimmy leaning on one of the amps. Cerys was sitting on a chair at the production desks, arms folded. The quick wink she gave him caused him to let out a sigh of relief.
“It’s cool,” he muttered to Alex.
“Yeah? ’Cos it looks like a firing squad.”
“Guys. Come on in. Take a seat. I need to chat with you.”
Jase took a seat on the edge of the low stage, Matt and Ben sat down either side of him. Luke pulled the drum stool over; Alex took the piano bench.
“What’s going on, Jimmy?” Matt asked, and Jase was happy to let him lead. Which was strange. Because usually Matt led, and Jase felt pissy about it.
Weird.
“I spent some time with Cerys this morning, and we spoke to your manager just now. He knows what I’m about to say and is waiting to speak with you once I’m done. Someone pointed out to me that I’ve let you down.”
Jase’s eyes flicked immediately to Cerys, who stared at her father, not giving anything away.
“In what way?” Matt asked.
“You don’t like the way the album is shaping up, right? You’ve made no secret about it. It’s been like pulling teeth. We’re three weeks into this. You have eight days left to go. And we don’t have an album. I was going to sit you guys down today and rip you a new one about getting on board with the concept.”
Jase pulled his eyes away from Cerys to look at Jimmy. “So, what changed?”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Jase. “Oh, I’m still going to rip you a new one, Palmer. But not about the album and music. So, we’ll save that for later.”
Ben shoulder-checked him. “Busted.”
Yeah. It looked like he was. “Fair enough.”
“‘Until It’s Done’ versus ‘Truth and Anger’. Which song do you prefer to perform?” Jimmy asked.
“‘Truth and Anger’,” Alex said, and the rest of the band nodded.
“What about ‘Tell Me This’ versus ‘Until It’s Done’?”
“Easy,” Luke said. “‘Tell Me This’.”
“‘It’s Not About You’ versus ‘Until It’s Done’?”
“‘It’s Not About You’,” Matt answered. “What’s this about?”
Jase wiped his palms down his thighs. “I think I know. ‘Until It’s Done’ is one of our earliest songs. A carryover from when we first started writing it. Sure, we’ve rearranged it and improved it, but it really doesn’t feel like us now. And we get that it’s why the label found us, after that whole Shamaze thing went down, but it’s not us and it probably shouldn’t be on this album seeing it’s on one of our EPs. It’s seventeen-year-old us in Ben and Alex’s garage. Not us a decade later.”
Jimmy stared at him for an awkward moment. “Sounds like you and my daughter agree on that.”
Cerys glanced in Jase’s direction and bit her lip before looking away quickly. So quickly, he could have sworn she was enjoying this.
“That’s not all they agree on,” Ben muttered, and Jase turned and glared. A silent shut the fuck up.
Ben grinned.
Jase was going to kill him.
“Listen. I heard the tracks. I heard the ones Jase wrote. The ones he and Cerys worked on. And I think Cerys is right. The label wanted me to—what did you say yesterday?” Jimmy looked to Cerys.
“Polish their roots out of their story.”
Jase’s heart cracked open a little wider as she turned to him and smiled. A smile just for him. She got him. She got their music. She understood.
“Yeah. That. I spoke to your manager. Got a copy of your contract. First, shrewd move to sign with Simon at Nikhedonia. He got Upper Street Records to remove a “commercially acceptable” clause that kills so many new bands about to break it. It means you don’t have to turn in an album that is commercially guaranteed to get radio play. I guarantee they’ll push back, but your contract backs you up. And we’ve got eight days to record a technically brilliant first album. The better it is, the more likely we’ll be able to persuade them to accept it.”
Matt looked at Jase, disbelief in his eyes, then back to Bexter. “Won’t that leave you exposed with Upper Street Records?”
“I’ve got big shoulders. They can take the hit. Plus, Cerys assures me you’ve got it in you to create something bigger than they’re expecting.”
Jase looked over to Cerys who did a wave motion with her hand, and he shook his head as he grinned.
“So,” Bexter said, clapping his hands together. “You fly home in just over a week. If we wiped the slate clean, every single song, what would you want to start with?”
Jase coughed to clear his throat. “I have an idea, but I’ve not spoken to Matt about it.”
“I want to hear it,” Matt said.
“Let’s make it the story of two lads with different dads from Manchester. There’s a before and after ‘Until It’s Done’. ‘Am I Him?’ is about my relationship with Dad. ‘Truth and Anger’ about living with deceit and the aftermath. ‘It’s Not About You’ and ‘Tell Me This’ about you and Iz. And then ‘Until It’s Done’. Because the song created all this shit. But let’s rebuild the song. Change the shit part of the lyrics. No offence.”
Matt laughed. “Not the first time you’ve told me my lyrics are shit.”
“They’re not all shit. I mean, some of them are, but the majority aren’t.”
Ben laughed behind him, and he suddenly remembered he and Matt weren’t the only two in the room.
“Anyway,” he said, trying to let the waves of everyone looking at him crash through without knocking him over. “Then we can pick up with the other song I started to write at the cottage. ‘Wave After Wave’, which I’ll explain properly later, but it’s learning to stand through the turmoil. And two songs Cerys doesn’t know about. ‘Fantastic Distraction’, about finding someone you need in your life but aren’t capable of telling them. And ‘Then Kiss Me’, because you finally find the words. We’ll need a final song. And it’s got to be about this, Matt. Your life changing in a way you can’t comprehend. When you wake up in the morning so unbelievably fucking lucky that there isn’t room in your chest for it all.”
The room had gone silent. Really fucking silent. Matt was looking at him with a wide-open mouth.
Fucking. Waves.
“I’m sold,” Luke said.
“I’m in.” Alex grinned as Luke went to his kit.
Ben stood and grabbed his guitar. “Let’s get started on ‘Am I Him?’ I need to learn it.”
Jimmy laughed. And then people were talking.
What would it take?
How would they get the songs ready? Did they need to re-record everything, or just certain instrument tracks?