London Harmony: Feel the Beat (12 page)

BOOK: London Harmony: Feel the Beat
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We started talking about the recent week as Ray drove. She was thinking about hitting some of the outlying cities to try out new street venues. I asked both of them if they noticed the bloke that had been hanging around Covent Garden, listening to the music. I've started getting nervous about the unmoving man when I was performing, I tried to get a look at him yesterday when I finished a set and put my glasses on, but just caught his back as he left. He wore an oversized black hoodie.

Neither had noticed the man, but I think I kicked Tink into protective mode. “I'll go with you Saturday. Point him out to me.” I nodded.

As we parked, Rayleigh prompted, “Remember, we have the Dock tomorrow night.” I nodded to her as we all got out of the car. We had a backup gig with The Silvers. I didn't like working much with them. They were an all female group, but the lead singer, Trina, was a diva and made sure that Ray stayed in the far back and that the area we stood wasn't lit. But a gig was a gig. It was our bread and butter.

I blinked at the bread and butter thought. All the money I had saved up for my new flat, first and last month, agency fees and deposits. Good lord, I could just sock it all away for a rainy day now. I'd only be on the hook for half of Izzy's rent and utilities. I had a bit of lolly for once.

We looked up at the plain looking, single story brown brick building. It looked pretty industrial, like a mini warehouse. There was no signage, just some white lettering on the door that read, Canter Recording. It was the most affordable I could find and had some good recommendations online for people just starting out.

Belle took my bag and hooked me up with Percy and then took my other arm in hers and we all went inside. We stepped up to an unmanned glass counter and looked around. Everything was stark white and plastic looking, it looked sterile and abandoned. There was a little bell on the counter with a silly huge sign with a giant red arrow suspended above it by a wire that read, “Ring bell for service.”

I glanced at the ladies and we all shared amused grins and I reached over and tapped the button on top of the bell. A clear, sharp red tone chimed and lanced through my skull. We looked around at each other in silence for a minute. It was awkward.

I started to reach over to ring the bell again when a door behind the counter opened and a huge mountain of a man stepped out. He had to duck to step through the doorway. I can honestly say I have never seen a man that large in my life; he was at least a head over two meters. He was heavyset and was dressed conservatively in jeans and a band shirt that could house a small family. His jet black mop of shoulder length unkempt hair contrasted with his meticulously groomed black beard and mustache. His round spectacles were at least as thick as mine.

The odd thing was that I didn't find the huge bloke intimidating in the least. The shy look on his face and the nervous smile he shot us all as he tried to smooth down his hair brought the image of a giant teddy bear to mind.

He wouldn't meet our eyes as he looked down bashfully and he talked with a deep, deep rumbling voice. As he stuttered it flowed down into the blue tinged browns of the basso profondo range that thrummed deep into my bones. “W-w-welcome t-to Canter Recording. I'm Edw-w-ward. How can I help you?” Then he chastised himself before we could speak. “Bloody hell.” Then chanced a glance up at us. “S-sorry, I tend to stutter a bit around p-pretty women.”

Isabelle surprised me when she was the first to put the giant at ease as she stepped close to the counter and placed her tiny hand on his huge paw that was resting on the countertop. “You don't need to be nervous around us Edward. We won't bite.” She tilted her head and gave him one of her lopsided smiles.

He rumbled as he said, “Bear. Everyone just calls me Bear.”

She inclined her head in acknowledgment then said, “Well I'm Isabelle, but please call me Belle.” Then she took her hand off of his and motioned toward us in turn. “This is Rayleigh, Ray, and the one there with the cute perma-grin is Abigail, Abi.” Then she brought her head up and said with a regal air, “There, now we're all friends and you have no need to be nervous.”

We each shook his hand and he started typing on the counter. I blinked realizing that there was an iPad recessed into the glass there. That was brilliant. He glanced at us. “Rayleigh Stottard and Abigail Addison?” I nodded and he said, “I have you f-from two to three thirty, but my four o'clock canceled so if we run over that is fine.”

He cocked his head toward the door behind him. “Let's get started shall we?” He ducked into the doorway and we walked behind the counter and followed him through. The back was a sharp contrast to the ultra modern looking front room. It was cluttered with electronic equipment, instruments, and boxes filled with paperwork. All the walls were wallpapered with local band posters. By the looks of them, they went back at least a decade and a half. There were two doors, one marked “Loo. Clean up after yourself,” and the other “Janitorial.”

I was getting a case of the second thoughts when they were washed away when we came to two of the most modern looking isolation booths I had ever seen. One was small for an individual singer and the other was huge and could house an entire band with room to spare. The sound panels all looked clean and new. Everything was well maintained. I caught Izzy's interest in the high tech looking mixing panels that sat between the booths. Wow. I was impressed.

I looked around and noted there was nobody else here, no sound man, no other workers. I asked as we came to a halt by the panels. “Is it just you here Bear?”

He nodded. “S-sole proprietor, sound engineer, chief cook, and bottle washer. Going on sixteen years now.” I cocked an eyebrow. That was actually bloody cool, what with all the good reviews I read online when I was researching recording studios.

Ray squinted at some of the photos on the wall between the booths. “Ummm... Bear? Is this you and Jagged Edge?” Then she pointed at another. “And Teri Barnes?”

He looked over then blushed as he nodded. The man was nothing but a huge teddy bear. “They were some of my clients before they got famous.”

We all looked at the various pictures. Most I didn't recognize, but some I did from the underground music scene and a few had rocketed to stardom. I was grinning at one where a punk rock girl was hanging off the ground from his arm as he made a muscle. I looked over at him. “You know all these famous people?”

He shrugged it off. “They all have to start somewhere... with a demo CD.” Then he indicated the room and shrugged again. He asked shyly, “Can I pet your dog?”

I smiled and said, “Sure, Percy likes attention,” I unclipped Percy's harness and bib and nudged him toward the big man. Bear squatted and made baby talk to my boy as he scrubbed his ears. It was sort of cute.

He stood and motioned his hand to the patio chairs around the little table. “Have a seat ladies and let's talk about what you want to accomplish today.” He ran around the table holding each of our chairs for us like a gentleman. Tink sat last and she gave him a cute grin and said, “Thank you Bear.”

He nodded and grabbed another chair and sat on it backward at the table, his arms clasped over the top of the chair back. I noted the little metal chair sagged a bit when he rested his impressive mass on it. He looked at us and said, “Whatcha got for me? With the time, we have allotted we can do probably two songs for each of you.”

I looked over at Ray and then Bear. “Rayleigh should go first since hers is pretty straight forward.”

She put her folder of sheet music in front of him and said, “I don't have any backing music other than the tracks I created in Garage Band, I hope that is okay.”

He nodded as he sifted through the folder, putting some off to the side as he went. “For a demo CD that works alright. You wouldn't want that if you were cutting an actual album. I can also get a three-man backing band in here on short notice if you prefer. They'd need at least a day to practice your music first. It'd be an additional fifty quid per number and we'd have to postpone today's session until they are ready.”

That was pretty cool, the man had resources. We all looked at Ray as she considered it. She slowly shook her head. “If the tracks I have aren't bad, then let's just start with that until I see the reaction to the demo.”

He nodded and slid two sheets he had selected to her and asked, “How about we do these today? These look to be the best for showcasing vocal range. Plus the lyrics on that second one sound fun.” She looked them over and nodded with a smile.

I was absently tapping out the beat of the music I could hear that was filtering over to us from somewhere. It was a pop station. A hot hand captured one of my tapping hands and I melted at Belle's touch.

Then Bear turned to me with a thoughtful look. “You I think are going to be the challenge if I understood your process you laid out on the online form. Let's get Ray done first and we can figure out the best way to tackle your style.” I nodded in agreement. I had said I could bring my equipment, but he instructed me not to, that it would sound noisy using stomp pedals.

The big man stood and we all followed him to the mixing console. “Do you have a thumb drive with your backing tracks?”

She grabbed her iPhone and cued up the first and handed it to him. “Abi said you listed iPhone as an acceptable device?” He smiled and nodded and went about hooking up her phone to his equipment.

He stopped suddenly when the newest J8 song started playing from wherever the music was coming from. “Hang on a second. I love J8, do you ladies mind?” We shook our heads and he adjusted something on the sea of sliders and buttons and dials on the mixing panel. The music got much louder, coming from speakers I was picking out all around the big room. The sound quality was top notch.

I absently started swaying to the catchy beat, the others weren't that far behind. I was drumming the beat om my hips and stomach as J8 started singing. This woman was amazing. By the end of the song I was pseudo-dancing and Belle had stopped to stare at me with a silly grin on her face.

Once it was over Bear, shut the music off completely then said, “I was waiting to hear the new release today. If only she were real.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Real?”

He nodded. “I'm pretty convinced that J8 is just a computer program re-creating Mandy Fay Harris' voice.” Then he added quickly, “Don't get me wrong... the music is brill and cutting edge, I simply love it, but there are too many similarities.”

I had heard some speculation that J8 might not be a real person the past few months, I was curious. “What makes you believe her voice isn't legit?”

He looked at us and motioned us to a computer screen at the end of his panel. “You know how everyone is always comparing the mystery woman's voice to a young Mandy Harris?” We nodded. He pulled up a classic Mandy song, Haunted Memories and he fast forwarded through picking out some passages and skillfully flipped between programs. Then he pulled up one of J8's first hits, Voices, and did the same.

Then he pulled up some sort of frequency analyzer and said, “First thing that struck me was how pitch perfect J8's voice is, there is no waver. Only a handful of people is capable of that, including Mandy Fay. I can name the others on one hand. Tabby Cat, Penny Franklin, and Miranda Keys.”

He looked around and we all agreed so he continued, “If you listen, like Mandy she doesn't even use vibrato except for some power notes, but only for effect.” He played the snippets of Mandy's voice and the pure tones showed as almost perfect spikes on the analyzer and in my vision. Then he pointed at a power note and the vibrato formed a perfect waveform. He froze both on the screen.

Then he smiled and said, “Now here is J8.” He put up snapshots of J8's next to Mandy's on the screen and they looked the same. “Someone just singing similar to Mandy or mimicking her style is one thing, but how do you explain this?” He moved the snapshots over each other and they meshed almost perfectly, with virtually no variation.

He seemed pleased with our shocked expressions. “So, either Many Fay Harris' suddenly got twenty years younger and started singing again or a computer is recreating her voice.” I blinked at it. Then he played the two side by side again and the color fluctuations in my vision confirmed it too. How had I not seen it before?

I was about to become a little depressed, I've loved the mystery woman who nobody has ever seen, her music was so upbeat and has taken the rock world by storm. But she's not real? Bear saw my discomfort and said quickly, “Don't get me wrong, someone is creating these hits, they are amazing. Plus you can't get the inflections and emotion into them with a computer, so it has to be a real person singing and a computer just adjusting her voice.”

Then he grinned. “Unless they cloned the queen of emotional rock.” We chuckled and I felt better. I guess it isn't any worse that an artist being auto-tuned, and a ton of the stars use auto-tune.

I squinted at the bloke. “You're too smart for your own good Bear.”

He blushed then straightened. “Should we get this show on the road ladies?” He motioned a hand toward the small isolation booth and held the door open for Ray. He had her sit on the stool in it and adjusted the mic for her then offered some isolation headphones.

He explained everything he was doing to all of us as he went. He shut the door and the stepped to the panel. And he put one side of the headphone to his ear and I heard her backing track play as he adjusted some levels on the panel.

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