"Eggplant Studios, The Demo Sessions"

It was a good Friday. Beautiful, sunny, a picture perfect California day. According the the engineer, it was a shitty day to be in a studio. According to me, it was a perfect day to be in the studio. Actually, they’re all perfect days to be in the studio. Except for that time I was recording a song and Giselle wanted to get together – post Leo, pre-Tom – but my love of music got in the way. Still kicking myself for that one.

It was Good Friday. The day Christians celebrate Jesus dying for their sins, killing death, etc. I thought the religious significance was a nice touch to continue the journey on killing my demons. (I just noticed demo is the first four letters of demons.) It has and will continue to be a long fight against my demons, but I think I’m up for the challenge. And, the paying of someone else to record me singing and playing live is undoubtedly the greatest step I can take.

I woke up early. I couldn’t fall asleep the night earlier. The excitement was like Christmas Eve when I was a little tyke – back in the day when I’d wake up at 5am and lay on the bathroom floor watching the minutes tick by until it hit 7am – the time when my father said we would wake up for Christmas. I was in my parents bedroom on the dot.

Up and at ‘em, I was cooking a large breakfast of scrambled eggs with veggies. I knew that I’d want to eat early because while I’m in the studio I don’t get hungry, and eating and singing is never the best idea (phlegm).

I got to the Eggplant Studios in Silver Lake at noon. We were planning a ten hour day of recording and mixing. I was on time.

Darren, the engineer, instructed me to pull around back to ‘unload.’ I showed up around back with my guitar case. He started to laugh. Usually he records people with a ton of gear. It’s just me and Maybelle, my 1996 Larrivee D-9, aka my love. I pack light.

We begin to settle in. He asks if I want tea. I say yes. I love tea. It’s the English and Irish in me. He loves it as well. He’s got a whole cabinet full of organic teas. He takes me through the selection and asks which one I’d like. I tell him I’ll have the Roibos – a red tea from South Africa. Let’s bring it back to where it all started I say. Both for humans, and for my life changing decision to pursue music with everything I got.

While we’re brewing the tea, Darren’s two-year old, Aidan comes into the kitchen stark naked. He’s speaking two-year old English, which only his father can understand, but it’s relayed to me that he’s talking about the card in his hand that is Buzz Lightyear and he’s saying, “To infinity and beyond,” the famous Buzz Lightyear quote from the Toy Story series. I repeat it back to him and tell him how much I like Buzz and the movies. Aidan then starts speaking again, and once again, I don’t really make it out, but Darren translate it and says that Aidan is saying, “Reach for the stars.” I love it. I turn to Darren and tell him that I think Aidan is spitting some pretty philosophical stuff for me on the day I’m going to kill my demons. He laughs and agrees. I take it to heart.

I believe Aidan.

The tea's done, Darren puts in some sort of amazing organic honey and we’re back into the studio.

I’m getting comfortable. I’ve tuned up the guitar; I'm warming up. Darren is getting the mics he’s going to use and setting up the session. I’ve done all this before, but this time I’m watching. This time I’m the “talent.’

Once everything is set up, we get our game plan together. We decide to start off with the easiest, do the hardest as the third one, and then work our way back down to easy at the end. I have 8 songs prepared for the day – of the 25+ I have written in the past year or so.

It’s a good guide. I’ll follow it for a song.

I decide to start with “Sometimes.” “Sometimes” is the song I credit with my musical “awakening.” I wrote it in November of 2008. It’s about being afraid to fall in love. The characters are trying to take it slow during the verse for fear of getting in over their head and getting lost, getting hurt, and all the other fun stuff. The chorus is centered around being depressed – “Sometimes we’re lazy and other days I just don’t care.” The guitar is simple chord structures and the structural pattern is easy. Everyone I’ve ever played this song likes it.

We start off playing to a drum beat, and although this is a great way to ensure consistency between takes, we quickly loose the vibe of the song. We both agree to do away with the click / drum beat / metronome and let me go ‘au natural.’ I am game.

I take off the head phones, close my eyes and sing and play as if I’m in my room. I forget that I’m in the studio as much as possible, and it goes well. After a take or two like this, we move on. “Sometimes” has been captured as is on that day at that time.

I get out of the isolation booth that will be my home for the next 5 hours of so and we listen to the versions. We pick the one we like best and decide to move on. This will be the process we follow throughout the day.

The next song that’s up is “Thick as Thieves.” This song I wrote while I was ‘homeless’ and staying with my Aunt and Uncle in Annapolis in 2009. While there, I reconnected with my cousins from my dad’s side of the family. We grew up together until 1992 and then they relocated to Maryland. Due to technical limitations, we lost touch and things were never the same when we say them. However, this was not the case when we reconnected. We were all older. We could all drink. And, surprisingly, we hadn’t changed as much as we thought. Now, that we had exited the awkward years of adolescence and we had some life experience, everyone had blossomed into a more mature version of who were were becoming in 1992. It was like being home.

One of the first times we hung out again I went up for just the day, but we were having so much fun my plans changed. I soon was staying the night, and we were soon going to my cousin Polly’s friend’s house party. Polly is twenty-three. A recent grad of University of Maryland, she very much still has friends who throw a mean house party. He sister Meryl, is twenty-seven, and like myself, Irish, and still knows how to throw down at a mean house party. It was a blast. The three of us left the party at three in the morning, the last three standing.

At one point during the day, Polly was saying something that was not true, or was funny, or something and I said “that’s just propaganda Polly.”

A chord had been struck. I knew immediately that something would come of it.

After the party, when I was back home I picked up my guitar and started to structure a song that was upbeat, happy, in an effort to capture the feeling I had when I was around them. Within minutes I had “Thick as Thieves.” “You and me, we’re thick as thieves / And, yes, you’re honor we are guilty…(chorus) Miss America Meryl and Propaganda Polly and me / When we’re together we’re just so happy and free / We drink and we smoke, and we toke and we’re drinking again / When we’re together this party will never end.”

After a few tries with the drum beat, Darren gives me the go ahead to play without the beat. I lose the pick as well, and decide to play with just my fingers. Four minutes or so later we had the version of the song on ‘tape.’ I felt that something magical had happened and the song took the structure that I had been struggling to finalize. I listened to it on playback and gave the go ahead to move on.

Next song to record was “Just Like You (Desert Blues).” This song is in the mold of Dylan-esque upbeat blues of the sixties. I remember when I wrote it after I got back from a trip to Arizona in late 2008 to do some soul searching. I wrote it at my mom’s apartment after the Christmas holiday. I remember when I first heard it on playback on my hand-held recorder, smiling, thinking, “I’ve got something interesting here. I’ve been fine-tuning and honing it since then. This song came out easy and I was very pleased with it. It was almost like a blur and I had forgotten how it went when we’d return to mixing it hours later. This is still one of my favorites from the session. It opens, “Line ‘em up. Shoot ‘em all down. Let’s let the government know we’re fucking around.”

Staying in the upbeat mode, I decided to record “If God Doesn’t” next. I love this song. Short and quick the main voice in this song takes solace in knowing that no matter what happens if God doesn’t save him he knows the devil will. He’s done and seen it all. And, he’s certain of two things – if god doesn’t save him, the devil will and that his baby loves him cause she told him so. Vaguely based on my life.

At this point in the session, I’m fairly exhausted. We take a break and make some more tea. This time Darren picks a white tea from Asia. The tea and honey will go a long way in soothing my throat.

When we get back in the studio, it’s time to slow it down.

I decide it’s time to do my favorite song – "No Joke." This song is simple and beautiful, and really marked a progression in my song writing, especially of the finger-picking folk style I love some much (think Iron and Wine, James Taylor, etc.) During my ‘awakening’ I developed the ability to finger pick out of nowhere. I relate it to Mama Cass being hit in the head and then being able to sing perfect harmonies with the others. One day I woke up and could finger pick like a motherfucker. I love it. This song is quiet, and slow, but it moves and has intricate melodies in the guitar. If you asked me how to play it, I could tell you the chords, but I couldn’t tell you the finger-picking style. It just happens when I start to play.

The lyrics for "No Joke" are based loosely on my life as a kid, and centered around my dad telling me I could be anything when I grow up – a doctor, a lawyer, or an Indian chief. It’s a great believe to possess. Sometimes, it’s hard to hold on to when you decide to go for Indian Chief. I’ve put it down in words and guitar to never lose it.

I recorded it in one take. I couldn’t hear myself in the headphones or anything. It just felt right. There are a few minor errors, but I still listen to the recording and think, “I can’t believe that’s me.” It’s been a long journey.

I recorded the folk ballad, “I Want to Love You” next. Another mellow jam with finger picking at the forefront, I got the song recorded on two takes. Once again we abandoned the drum beat quickly. Similar to “Sometimes,” “I Want to Love You,” is centered around the idea of wanting to love someone but not want to lie to them. I then constructed a story about a fight that the main character is focused on – at first is a gun fight, and then it morphs into a battle, and then a war. The song ends with the refrain “All day and all night I’m read to fight.” Most likely it stems from the internal struggle of loving music and, therefore, sacrificing love in the more eros form. (But damn I do love girls too. Maybe someday soon I’ll be able to balance both.)

It was getting late and I had to choose which song I was going to do last. I went with a more rocking “My Honey.” My “Mr. Mojo Risin” All of the verses begin with a variation of Mahoney (My Honey, Ah Money, and Ha Money). The song itself is once again finger picked and one of my favorites. We did two versions of it, and kept the second one.

Then it was off to dinner.

I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I ate not because I wanted to, but because I had to.

We got back from dinner at about 8PM. For the next six hours Darren mixed the songs while I recovered. I gave him input here and there, but for the most part I had left everything I had that day on tape. Is it the best thing I've ever done - maybe not. Is it the most important step, without a doubt.

At 4AM, I was packing my guitar into my car.

Thirty minutes later, I was back in Venice. Exhausted, I crawled into bed.

The Eggplant Demo was done.

On the battle that was Good Friday, 2010, the score read Groundswell 1, Demons 0.

To hear the above songs, please visit www.myspace.com/mattmahoneymusic

Rock on,

Groundswell