This Could Be Rock 'N' Roll (16 page)

BOOK: This Could Be Rock 'N' Roll
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“Hello, mate. My name’s Jason and this is Jeff. We’re from Crowflies Records.”

“Not Sony, then?”

“No, not yet mate, sorry to disappoint you. Mind you, we might be one day with a stroke of luck. I hear that Sony treat their artists like crap, so perhaps you are better off with us in the meantime.”

“It’s good to meet you but I’m sorry guys, I’ve a few things to do. Can we meet up another time?”

“What time do you knock off?”

“Five.”

“We’ll be back at five.”

And they were. “Time for a beer,” they suggested and took me back to Zest. “Brilliant gig the other night, mate,” said Jason or Jeff - I couldn’t work out which initially.

“Yeah, fantastic,” said the other one.

“I was in a shit mood.”

“Worked wonders for you, mate.”

“So how can I help you gentlemen?”

“Well,” explained one of them, “we are looking for local talent.”

“Musical talent or female talent.”

“Oh, musical talent. We know where the female talent is.”

“You see,” said the other one, “what it is is that we want to sign up musicians on a regional basis so, in this case, in East Yorkshire. We then give them a bit of cash - not too much, so don’t get your hopes too high - and see what we can make of them. If things go well and, in your case, we’re betting they will, we aim them at half the country, i.e. the North of England in your case, and then nationally. If things go really well, then who knows? Could be international.”

“So who have you got so far?”

“Nobody yet. We are hoping that you might be the first.”

“Why me?”

“We’ve heard your music. You’ve got real talent, you really have. With a bit of work and the help of some smart session musicians, we believe that your stuff could be gold, solid gold. Platinum, even.”

“So you want me to change my style?”

Whichever one it was grabbed me by the shoulder in a display of earnestness. “We want to enhance your style, mate, not change it.”

“I like it as it is.”

“So do we, but it will sell a hell of a lot better our way, believe me - some piano, some electric guitar, some sax, some electricity. You could be huge.”

When you have been around the music industry as long as I have, you hear a lot of bullshit like this. There are so many crooks out there trying to make a quick buck. They promise you pounds and they steal your pennies.

“It’s quite simple, mate.” Whichever one it was delved into his pocket and pulled out a data stick. “We’ve had some guys do a number on a couple of your songs - ‘Me & Billy The Kid’ and ‘St. Martin’s Lane’. Play it to some people whose judgment you trust, then come back to us if you think that there is something we can do for you.”

“And if I do, what is the offer?”

“If you do, the offer is that we would pay you ten thousand, give you a bunch of musicians and work on a sort of greatest hits album for you. We would also set you up with some tour dates and take it from there. When we have the album and you’ve done, say, six gigs for us we can discuss what happens next. Have you any holiday you can take?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a week I can take more or less anytime.”

“Well, that will do for the recording. Anyway, take away the stick, give it a play, and we’ll contact you again in a couple of days. All right?”

“I suppose I could do that.”

“You should, mate. It could be your lucky break.”

 

*  *  *

 

“You’ll never guess what.”

“What?”

“Some guys are trying to set me up for a recording contract.”

“We need the money.”

“Yeah, it would certainly help. They want to give me a makeover.”

“What kind of makeover?”

“Dunno, I’ve got it here.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

It doesn’t take us more than a few bars to realise that this isn’t just a quick buck. This is classy. I hardly recognise it. Jade smiles. “I wouldn’t say no just yet.”

“No, it might be worth a week of my life.”

“A week?”

“Yeah, they want me to spend a week in the studio with them recording my greatest hits.”

“Sounds good to me. Can I come?”

“I’m sure you can. It’ll be a bit boring though.”

“It’ll be a bit boring here. Besides, I might meet somebody famous.”

 

 

Chapter 17

 

Well, the boys weren’t splashing out and shipping us off to London but they weren’t skimping either. They had chosen the Soundworks Studios in Leeds, home to several Leeds bands (including The Pigeon Detectives) with the Kaiser Chiefs and Suzie Quattro thrown in as extras. It certainly beat my shed. I just love the size of those mixing desks.

Actually, I found it rather daunting. Jade and I were introduced to Larry on keyboards, Jem on drums, Patrick on bass and Walt on lead guitar, and of course Will Jackson who is Soundworks Studios.

After a few hours, I got to tell Jason and Jeff apart.

“All right, Jake, what we propose is that we take your basic tracks and we build on them with the band here and then you can come back in and re-record the vocal and the acoustic guitar and whatever.”

“OK.”

“Have you been in a real recording studio before?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry. We do it all for you.”

It was amazing watching them. They had obviously heard my stuff already and just blew in there. From the off, the basic shape was there. It was incredible. These guys were really professional. As I say, I am not really a musician. I am a songwriter, so when people of this calibre just take over the show I am full of admiration.

They started with ‘For Harry Smith’ which I wouldn’t have had down as one of my greatest hits - let’s face it, none of them were - but the boys seemed to like it:

 

You just see Tucker’s Field

Me, I see a park.

I see coloured light at Christmas

You see dark.

I’ll make with plough and spade and rake

Fine flower gardens round a lake

With waterfalls cascading down

To change the whole face of this town.

 

I want to take this place

And wrap my arms around it

I want to leave this world

A little better than I found it.

I want to take this town

And let my love surround it

I want to leave this world

A little better than I found it.

 

Politicians they wage wars

Whilst tending to amending laws

Me I see the beauty in this world

I hear birdsong in the trees

The sound of summer on the breeze

The distant whisper of the seas

The laughter of the little boys and girls

 

I want to take this place

And wrap my arms around it

I want to leave this world

A little better than I found it.

I want to take this town

And let my love surround it

I want to leave this world

A little better than I found it. 

 

Then it was ‘Old Dusty Road’ which they took faster and rockier. It got Jade dancing at eleven in the morning anyway. Then ‘Loneliness Is Blue’ which turned out so beautifully that it brought tears to my eyes. They really felt as if they had been snatched away from me to be polished and handed back and even I had to admit that they were better.

There were two days of recording where we basically sat and watched and marvelled. I began to feel like one of the greatest songwriters on the planet and Jade got more and more excited. Then it was my turn which was very painful. They were trying to round my voice, so I had to do take after take for each song to the point where I got really pissed off and threatened to walk out a few million times. Jason and Jeff had their ways of dissuading me. They barred the door. They told me later that they had a back-up plan - to kidnap Jade and hold her hostage.

I have to say that by the Friday I was feeling pretty chuffed about the whole thing. The songs really were sounding the proverbial million dollars. I don’t like to be influenced by money, but I was beginning to count it. That was the warning sign. Things were getting out of my control. Greed was taking over.

“Relax,” said Jade. “Don’t take it so seriously, Jake. Souls are eternal. You can sell them over and over again.”

Yeah, but I had seen the way she had been eyeing Jem and going into huddles with him for a chat and a giggle. I may have been Hull’s answer to Bob Dylan, but somebody was after my Sara. Still, if I could get a ‘Blood On The Tracks’ out of it ……..

 

*  *  *

 

My mobile goes when I am heading out towards Anlaby for a showing. “I’m Trevor,” the voice announces.

“Yeah, and I’m knackered too,” I reply. His presumption that I should know who ‘Trevor’ is really pisses me off immediately, especially connected to his tone of voice.

“Sorry?”

“It’s not your fault, Trevor. Too many late nights.”

“Cathy has asked me to call you to arrange for the children to come over to see you.”

“OK.”

“Is this Saturday convenient?”

“Sure. It’s about time.”

“Look Jake, whatever it is between you and your ex-wife is nothing to do with me. I am simply carrying out an errand here. There is no need to be so hostile.”

Or for you to be so pompous.

“She is my wife actually, Trevor. We are separated, not divorced.”

“All that is going to change, Jake.”

“I would rather hear that from Cathy.”

“She doesn’t want to speak to you right now.”

“Anyway, Trevor, Saturday is good.”

“About 11:00?”

“Yeah, that will give you time to give my wife a quick shag before you come over. Maybe I can do the same with Jade.”

Why am I at this guy? It really is nothing to do with him. I just feel like beating somebody up and he’s a prat, or so everybody says, so just the guy to turn up.

There is a bark at the other end of the phone. “You are going to have to watch your hostility, Jake, or I may get tempted to punch you. I’ve been patient so far but I don’t take shit from lowlifes like you.”

“You’re fucking my wife and you are calling me a lowlife?”

I pull into a local shopping area. I shouldn’t be both driving and having this conversation. Trevor says something that I miss, but I catch the next bit. “You really are the egotistical pillock Cathy says you are.”

“That’s true,” I reply, “but she tells me you have a small prick.”

The line clicks off. I have obviously guessed right.

 

*  *  *

 

Jason and Jeff want a photo session around Hull. “We’re going to play you as a local boy made good. Everyone’s really excited about the album, especially Trevor,” Jeff informs me.

“Trevor? Who’s Trevor?” Is everybody called Trevor suddenly?

“He’s the boss of Crowflies Records.”

“Well, I am glad that he is happy.”

“Happy’s not the word for it. He is beside himself. He wants to do a fifty thou deal with you. I’ve never known him go past fifteen. I’m not surprised though. We’ve been testing reactions out in the market and everybody reckons you are hot. So we need to do the deal and then get the publicity under way.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“Trevor wants to meet you and he is back on Thursday, so how about twelve midday at Cherutti’s Two in Beverley, if you know where that is?”

“Yeah, I know where that is.”

So there we are, Jade and I, at twelve o’clock sharp. No sign of the Crowflies boys. Twelve-thirty neither, although the staff assure me that the table has been booked. At one o’clock this large BMW turns up and Jason, Jeff and another guy pile out.

“Sorry we’re late,” announces Trevor in a plumby voice which reminds me of something I cannot quite place. “Trevor Thorn. I hope you two are still sober.”

“Oh yes, we’re sober.”

“Keeping a clear head for the negotiations, are you?”

“Something like that.”

Jason and Jeff are laughing at all of his jokes even though he hasn’t made any yet.

“Great record. You are really going somewhere, Jake.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Let’s have a drink first, get to know each other, and then sort out the deal.”

Well, my price seems to have come down. The offer on the table is £25,000 plus 15% of net profits for the album and a six gig tour. If they decide to go for a second album, they’ll go to £50,000 for a ten gig package. I feel that I’m being stiffed but it is still a lot more than I earn now - well, anything is a lot more than I earn now - and I might even be able to go professional for a couple of years.

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