
In the late 1970’s the Tascam Portastudio was invented, thus bringing the world of four-track recording into the home. Having loaned one from my mentor ‘Laid Back Liam’ I set up in my bedroom with the aid of a few borrowed bits of equipment to record my masterpiece. I used a PA head to supply reverb, a cheap microphone, snare drum, old guitar and a borrowed bass guitar. Whilst it was recording on cassette it was possible to multi-track and I was ready to produce my own ‘Pet Sounds’.
For three days and nights I toiled away, hardly eating or sleeping just a steady diet of strong coffee. Layer upon layer I pushed that machine as far as it would go; at one stage I’m sure I heard it beg for mercy! Eventually the machine started smoking, and like a signal from the Vatican, I decide that my masterpiece was now ready.
I was by now almost delirious and in no fit state to make a sound decision and simply needed to be vindicated and my status as the next Brian Wilson confirmed. I was still living at home and the only other person at home was my elder brother. Now he is very different to me and truth was he would have been more impressed by the new ‘Dr Hook’ than the new ‘Brian Wilson’, even so I was convinced that my masterwork was so good that even he would recognise it and so I persuaded him to come into my room for the first public playback.
In my wasted state I crumpled on to the floor and pressed play.........
It was around this time that I learnt a valuable, although painful life lesson, for a creative artist, "the rest of the world doesn’t really care as much about your art as you do".
The track faded out until there was a very loud silence. Was that a tear in my brothers eye, was he about to go out and start building a statue in my honour?
Finally he got up and started to leave the room, still nothing, then as he reached the door he turned to me and finally made his pronouncement “You’ll wear a hole through your socks sitting like that”.
John
For three days and nights I toiled away, hardly eating or sleeping just a steady diet of strong coffee. Layer upon layer I pushed that machine as far as it would go; at one stage I’m sure I heard it beg for mercy! Eventually the machine started smoking, and like a signal from the Vatican, I decide that my masterpiece was now ready.
I was by now almost delirious and in no fit state to make a sound decision and simply needed to be vindicated and my status as the next Brian Wilson confirmed. I was still living at home and the only other person at home was my elder brother. Now he is very different to me and truth was he would have been more impressed by the new ‘Dr Hook’ than the new ‘Brian Wilson’, even so I was convinced that my masterwork was so good that even he would recognise it and so I persuaded him to come into my room for the first public playback.
In my wasted state I crumpled on to the floor and pressed play.........
It was around this time that I learnt a valuable, although painful life lesson, for a creative artist, "the rest of the world doesn’t really care as much about your art as you do".
The track faded out until there was a very loud silence. Was that a tear in my brothers eye, was he about to go out and start building a statue in my honour?
Finally he got up and started to leave the room, still nothing, then as he reached the door he turned to me and finally made his pronouncement “You’ll wear a hole through your socks sitting like that”.
John