"On The Other Side," from forthcoming release.

Vocals, Into Mixing.

My lyric sheet for "Wander Away," propped in the window nook in the vocal booth. I'm still searching for this vocal.

Meanwhile: Ari Hest, friend and cowriter of "Ready or Not," came in and knocked out background vocals. I feel fortunate to have him on the record. We go back. His voice blends so well into these tracks that we opened up the assignment: he hit "Ready or Not," "On The Other Side," and "You Could Be Anywhere," which he also came up with a bridge background part. Maybe it'll make it to the mix - that bridge has thwarted several attempts for us to fancy it up. It's like trying to put felt antlers on a cat.

Angie Pollock, cowriter of "Count To Ten," recorded background vocals for "Everybody Knows" and "Count To Ten" in a London studio, sent them over. I like the quality of her voice, it fits the songs and complements the lyric. And I like her accent, which I believe is Scottish, though it's only faint when singing. Funny to think that the first time I met her she was rocking a white keytar in silver pants on stage at the Hammerstein Ballroom with Goldfrapp. This is definitely another side of her.

It's so good to have both of these folks represented on the record in a performance.

We are gearing for mix, now. Two leads, and backgrounds for "Waving Goodbye" to go.



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Two days have passed in the studio. All moves have become gigantic. Maybe it's just me, deeply tuned in at this point, listening for the door to click shut on tracking.

Lead vocals are going down smoother than ever before. The shocking standout, over and over again, is "On the Other Side." We listened to a succession of approaches, and back to back, they spelled out the story of my life. First takes: Way too hard. Too strong, trying to push and be heard. Later take: Less, but now confused. Voice cracking, lost. I can hear myself sweating. Bronchitis take: sad, morose, self-pitying and sabotaging. Post-bronchitis: Completely different mindset, soft, whispery and too far the other direction. Like a small forest creature had learned the words and sang them. A muskrat, maybe. Terrible. Then: A little stronger, up a couple notches, looking for it. And finally: A blend that finally understands the lyric, and interprets what it's been asking for the whole time. The song is now...I can't describe it. Lights out.

Having found the center of this record in my mind, huge swings have occurred. For one, two songs have been resurrected from the dead: "Ready or Not," written with Ari Hest, and "Next Time," written with Raul Midon. I'd given up on them, but suddenly they make sense for the record. "Ready or Not" vocal was fish in a barrel. "Waving Goodbye," written with Eric Krasno from Soulive, same thing. Two leads are left: "Wander Away" and "Next Time." Not to worry. I got 'em.

With leads down, background vocalists are being called in. Ari Hest will be stopping in for "On The Other Side" and probably "Ready or Not." Female vocalists are coming in, too, which is yet another first. Angie Pollock, cowriter on "Count To Ten," finished a remote session in London for our song. We brought in Julia Darling to give it a shot. Carolyn Eufrasio will take a stab at a couple. Maybe others will, too.

Big debates are now easily settled. For instance: "You Could Be Anywhere" was cut with both an acoustic piano and an electric piano (Rhodes). We bounced back and forth between them. People gave opinions. But after working on the background parts, I offered a third option: neither one. Perfect. They're now both gone. I have no doubt giant steps like that will become the daily routine for the next couple sessions.

I can't wait to get back in. Tomorrow.

More record news, plus personal brain fragmentation at Twitter: http://twitter.com/mikeerrico

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LATE-NIGHT RADIO: An Evening with Mike Errico

SATURDAY, August 14, 2010 10-11:30PM (Bar opens at 9:30)
Yale Summer Cabaret 217 Park Street New Haven, CT 06511

All Tickets $5 Reservations not necessary, but recommended:

For tickets and more information:
203.432.1567 | www.summercabaret.org | summer.cabaret@yale.edu

NEWS

Mike Errico has entered the studio to record the follow-up to 2010's Songs from Lift. Pictures and diary entries are posting on Mike's official blog: http://www.errico.com/blog

Follow on Facebook at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mike-Errico/8888939428

Studio news, plus personal brain fragmentation, at Twitter: http://twitter.com/mikeerrico

FREE DOWNLOADS
Unreleased versions, remixes and Tallboy 8, the seven-song live EP, are available for free at: http://www.errico.com/media.html

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Recovery.

A rough vocal session last week really bummed me out. I couldn't clear my throat, couldn't do what I wanted to do, and basically, well, sucked. We packed the microphone away and got to many other things - sifting through Bruce's brilliant pedal steel takes, clearing away space to allow the songs to breathe, and plotting finishing touches - including possibly reviving "Ready or Not," a song I abandoned a couple weeks back. It's just nagging me. Finish me. You dork. It's saying. Finish me. It has half its lyrics and it offers an opportunity in that way. I'm getting that strange sadness at the close of a sentence where you hope you've said what you started out trying to say. Or maybe I'm just trying to keep the process alive. I'll know when I get there.

But my voice. I was bummed. This never happens. I can roll out of a car after 11 hours and my voice is right there for me. I became depressed, then nervous. We cancelled a day. Holy crap, that pissed me. Off.

Then I started getting coughing fits. At night, mostly, horrifying, bottom of the feet to the top of my head coughs that left my neck sore and my sight blurry. I'd be up at night, like a commercial TV dad with an abnormally red nose. In old-man pajamas. Powder blue, with a...breast pocket? For what? Why would a sleeping dad need a pocket?

Finally, I went to the doctor, a perfect blond Ken doll of a man who held a stethoscope to my back and said, "Jesus. You're wheezing like crazy. Pretty textbook case of bronchitis." He put me on a nebulizer -- there's something in this world that is called a nebulizer -- that blew vapor into my lungs and made my heart race. He prescribed drugs.

So. I wait. It's been a week. The Z-Pack is done, the inhaler now only sputtering the last gasps of propellant into my bloodstream.

I'm set to fly again next week. Which means this is lyric week. Planning week. Get to work week.

More record news, plus personal brain fragmentation at Twitter: http://twitter.com/mikeerrico

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