When we walked in, we expected to see him and possibly Diamond too. What we didn’t expect was to see all four members of Social Sinners sitting there in the private room. “To what do we owe the pleasure guys?” I asked as we took our seats.
“Good evening boys,” Easton greeted us. “Diamond, Mickey, Stoli and Joey wanted to join us tonight to offer any support you may need.”
Wow, that wasn’t expected.
“We know how intimidating and exciting laying down your first tracks can be,” Stoli added. “So, we’re here however you need us to be. We’ll be rotating in and out of the studio while you’re there offering suggestions or whatever.”
“But feel free to tell us to fuck off at any time,” Diamond added.
“Ha-ha, right on man,” Seltzer said.
“We really appreciate everything you guys have done for us. Most bands don’t have this kind of support backing them. Your generosity blows me…” Chase gestured around to the four of us. “Blows us away.”
“No worries,” Stoli said. “Each of us have studios at our houses that are open to you if you feel the need. If you want to jam with us or work out a kink you have with some lyrics or a melody all you need to do is text or call. Dave is top notch, really easy to work with and smart as fuck when it comes to this shit.”
The waitress came and took our beverage orders. When she walked away, I looked around the table at the group of friends gathered —both old and new. How did we get so lucky? Somewhere along the way some kick ass karma paid us a visit. I had to clear my throat to get past the lump that’d formed before I could speak.
“Seriously guys, I don’t know what we did to deserve your kindness but trust me when I say it won’t be taken for granted.”
“That’s easy,” Diamond said, leaning back in his chair. “You didn’t act like jackasses while we were on the road.”
“I for one can’t thank you enough for that,” Easton added. “You easily could’ve made my job a nightmare, but you didn’t.”
We were humbled by their words. None of us were jackasses in general. Sure, we’ve had our fair share of drunken stupors, but we hated hangovers with a passion. Living in the bright lights of Vegas, we grew up with kids that got involved in the drug scene and some other not so good shit. Unfortunately, we’d already attended more funerals related to that than we cared to recount.
The waitress came back with our drinks and took our food orders. After she left Chase held his bottle in the air. “Here’s to new friends and new beginnings.”
“Here, here!” The group saluted as one.
“Tomorrow morning, the car will arrive at nine sharp to take you to the studio. We’ll have a continental breakfast waiting for you and lunch will be catered in as well. You’ll probably run over time wise, more days than not, so we can have dinner brought in if need be then. You only have the studio for two weeks so if you require more time it can be moved to one of our houses,” Easton informed us. I hoped that wouldn’t happen, but if it did it was nice to know we had options. Not to mention the fact it would be cool as hell to hang out with these guys outside of a bus or crowded arena.
“Dude, I can’t sleep,” I said to Seltzer later that night when we were back in our room.
“Ugh, same here.” He looked at his phone, the screen lighting up the darkened space. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I still can’t believe this is all happening for us. I feel like I’m sleeping and when I wake, I’ll find it was a cruel dream,” I admitted.
“I hear ya, but there’s no way we’re having the same dream so it’s really happening. What if I fuck up and we have to start over?” he asked.
“It’s a given, we’re gonna fuck up. Especially on the new songs we haven’t played as much. I just hope we don’t go over the two weeks,” I said.
The next morning, we poured our four tired but anxious asses into the town car Easton had sent. Not a word was spoken between the four of us during the drive. Hopefully, we’d get over our nerves once we had our instruments in hand. I truly felt the most at peace when I sat at my kit. Maybe it was channeling my dad that did it for me? Or maybe it was just the sense of security I felt when I was behind it. Like it blocked out all the doubt, fear, and insecurity.
“Good morning,” Easton greeted us as we walked in, Sal was standing beside him. We each took a turn shaking his hand. “Follow me, I’ll give you the tour and introduce you to Dave. He’s the producer.” After verifying our equipment was there, yes anxious minds had to be settled, Easton left us in the break room where he had the breakfast service set up.
We finished eating with a few minutes to spare, Seltzer shot his trash into the can like he was making a three-point shot. Smacking his hands together, he said, “Alright gentlemen, it’s time to embrace the fear.” We groaned at his play on words using our band name. “What? I thought it was pretty fucking brilliant.”
“You would,” David complained.
“Stick to your day job and let the comedians have theirs,” I told him, rolling my eyes for effect.
“What?” Seltzer asked, holding his hands up questioningly, “I thought it was quite witty.”
“Okay boys…” Easton came in, saving us from any more Seltzerisms. “Let’s get to it.” We followed Easton to the sound booth. “Dave,” he addressed the man behind the massive console. “These are the members of Embrace the Fear.” One by one he pointed us out. “Their drummer, Rhone Horne.” I reached out shaking his hand. “Their guitarist David Jordan, bassist Stephen Sewell aka Seltzer…” They each shook his hand. “And their front man and lead singer, Chase Prescott.”
Once the introductions were done, David said, “Nice to meet you all. I’ve listened to your demo tape along with watching your YouTube videos. Gotta say, I love your style. I detect hints of thrash with some contemporary rock undertones weaved in with a solid metal vibe.”
“Wow, um, yeah,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “It’s like you totally get us.”
He laughed. “That’s my job. I need to understand your style in order to digitally master the recordings and not take away from the heart of your music. Nothing worse than having your voice silenced.” Dave couldn’t have been more right. Being silenced was like getting down on your knees and sucking Satan’s dick. Selling out, selling your soul and losing yourself in the interim. “Alright guys, go through that door and get yourselves situated.”
Alright dad, I thought to myself, here goes nothing…
The weight in the room was heavy, Dave called to us through the intercom, “Guys watch the light above the window. When it’s red, we’re recording. Deep breath everyone.” Dave waited a few seconds, allowing us time to ground ourselves. “Okay, here we go.” The red light came on. I counted, pounding out the opening beats to our first song and just like when we are on stage, they guys took the cue, and we were off.
Today was my last day off before heading back to school tomorrow and I was beat which considering I didn’t get up until just after nine this morning shows. Normally, I’m up with the sun— you could take the boy off the farm, but you couldn’t take the farm out of the boy. This past weekend had me on my feet for damn near eighteen hours a day. But today was exciting for another reason, Rhone and the guys in his band started recording their first CD. I couldn’t wait to hear how it went, hopefully he’d call tonight and fill me in. Throughout the day, I washed laundry and cleaned up the mess the roommates made in the kitchen. Of course, the majority of the things they used were mine which didn’t surprise me but still sucked. Without asking, always without asking, when I’m only a text away. I longed for the day I got to move out.