We're in the studio recording what is surely destined to be our first megasmash country hit. I know this because I haven't slept in three days. I also know this because I've thought the same thing on previous occasions, and it turns out that on each occasion I couldn't have been more wrong. Which, I figure, pretty much makes it certain I've got to be right this time.
Anyway, when you're in the studio after serial sleepless days as we have been, the hijinx begins. In the instant case, the hijinx involved the other vocalist and I multitracking a scat-sung double of a descending guitar line. The result ("doo-bee-ooh-doo-bee-doo-bee-doo-bee-Doooooo") is sublimely ridiculous, right out of the Golden Throats' songbook of musically unnatural acts. Thus, as George W. Bush might have said, Mission Accomplished.
A few hours later our manager came by to listen in. We played him the track, doing our best to keep a straight face. (Regular Meta readers will have seen something like this picture before.) Then we turned to him for comment.
He said, "Whoever thought up that idea should be hung."
I stopped the track, then replied: "And we are."
Thoughts:
1. Must...get...sleep.
2. God bless the gambler's fallacy--for what else stands guard at the threshold of a musician's hope?
3. Sometimes the soul of wit is just plain lying.
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