Day Nine

Finally got something close to a normal amount of sleep last night. I felt so much better for it this morning. I had no rush to get to the studio today since Johan was going to be there early, setting up his bass sound with Nico and Linus. So before I headed into town, I went out for a long walk with the dog and had time with a coffee and a sandwich with Jen in Sundbyberg. It felt good to do something normal.

I met up with Jon on the train on the way in and we turned up around one pm. Johan had already laid down a few tracks and it seemed like all was going well. His bass is sounding amazing. He's hooked it up through the Orange guitar rig, Lemmy style. Although it sounds closer to Bob Weston from Shellac's sound. This pleases me.

We spend the afternoon hanging on the sofa watching Johan put his tracks down. It's great to watch him at work. He's a really solid bass player. He gets the job done without making any fuss.

A couple of hours later and Johan has put bass down ten tracks. When he goes to pick up some lunch, I take over and set up my guitar for the last time on this album. All my rhythm tracks are done, all I have left is over-dubs and solos. The dreaded fucking solos. I hate this part. I'm not a guitar solo kind of guy. Sure, I can sit there with the guitar on my lap and widdle away for hours whilst the man at the desk is setting up sounds, but as soon at the “record button” is hit, it's a whole other story. Suddenly my fingers feel like blocks of lead.

Jon has left for the night. He has a Christmas party with work, which means bowling and then getting pissed at Ali's Bar. Ali's has to be one of the city's dingiest fucking bars and it happens to be situated right across the street from Jon's work. They're normally there for a pint after work, at which time the place isn't so bad. But at night time, it's a whole other story. Once I was there with some friends from work on the piss. I don't know why the fuck we ended up there really, but we did. We're standing at the bar trying to order another round of drinks when this skinhead cunt barges into my friend Sofia. She looks at him and asks him what his problem is. He just looks at her and then pushes her in the chest and she almost goes to ground. What the fuck? So before I know it I'm face to face with this guy and I'm asking him what the fuck is going on, realising that I'm seconds away from a kick-in. The bouncers see what's happening and intervene. Thank fuck! But then amazingly, they ask us to leave. On the way out the bouncer explains to me that even though they hate that guy, he's a friend of the owner and there is nothing they can do about it. I haven't been back there in the evening since then, since obviously the scene there is fucked.

Anyway, to get back to the studio...

Linus and I set up a guitar sound and Johan sits and eats his lunch whilst we go through each song and check out what needs to be done. I end up laying three solos and a bunch of melody parts and then I'm done. It takes a while and my fingers shake a little through the whole solo process, but Linus and Johan offer kind support and after an hour or so I'm finished. I'm very happy to be done with my parts.

Johan gets back to business and lays down the rest of his tracks. Linus has to leave around seven pm. so for the last hour, I sit at the desk whilst Johan plays bass. Now...if I'm no solo guitar guy, I'm most certainly not “Desk Engineer has a fucking clue about Pro-Tools Guy”. Linus shows me the ropes, but I'll be fucked if I can understand what he's going on about. Johan has to guide me through every step whilst he's tracking his bass. Hit Apple Z. Press 3 to punch me in. He'd be better off sitting here himself and doing it, since I just sit there like a dummy. Computers just aren't my thing. My one year at college studying “computer science” will attest to that. I spent the entire year writing up set-lists and drawing up logo's for my band at the time. Besides that, by the time Linus leaves the studio I've drunk a couple of beers and I feel a little bit tipsy.

Johan gets done around eight pm. He's not entirely convinced everything is good but he's done for today and will check it out with fresher ears tomorrow. Jen comes by just as we're finishing up and we invite Johan back to our place for dinner. Johan and I decide we're going to a gig at our friends squat club in Solna, which is not far from where I live. Local Oafs and Makarbert Fynd are playing. I want to check out the club and the show. It feels like a nice way to end an intense week of work in the studio.

We get back to our place, Jen makes a fantastic dinner and I treat Johan to some samples from my Single Malt collection. We sit around chatting and watching our favourite tv show, “På Spåret” before heading to the show around midnight.

The club is great. It's in Solna tube station. You go out of the ticket barriers, turn left up the tunnel and knock on a black door. The door opens and you go inside, giving your name and date of birth. Everybody here has to be officially a member, even though it doesn't cost anything more than contacting them in advance with your details. It's just a technicality needed to get around an eventual cop invasion. If everyone has their name and details on a piece of paper by the door, then technically it's a private party and there isn't anything the cops can do about it.

The club looks great. Our friend, Frasse, has done a great job with it. Another friend of ours, Klara, has booked the bands and is playing records. It's great to see people getting involved, keeping the scene going.

Makarbert are fucking crazy tonight. Kalle, the drummer, is pissed out of his mind and my friend Anders on guitar, normally a big quiet, shy kind of guy, is smashing his guitar into pieces on the floor. Apparently he's had enough of his guitar going out of tune. The tiny space is packed and it's hilarious watching Anders smash the shit out his guitar. Even funnier when the song is done, and the singer in the band announces they haven't finished their set yet and asks if anyone can lend them a guitar. Me and Johan piss ourselves, but of course, Local Oafs lend them a guitar without any hesitation. Great guys.

Local Oafs are as always, unbelievably entertaining. They are a great live band and always give a full on show. I love how the singer and guitarist constantly swap roles during the gig. Both guys are great at both guitar and vocals, so why not? They play for quite a while and by the time they're done it's almost two-thirty am. and, unsurprisingly the crowd has thinned out quite a bit. People have either left or have started to flake out in the bar room of the club.

Johan and I leave around four am. I don't feel that drunk but I already have a headache from the shitty cans of Åbro beer that the club was selling. I can already tell that tomorrow I'm going to be suffering.

Quote of the day: Fredrik Local Oafs - “What's the difference between the Sex Pistols and Jay Retard? Both of them were fake but the Sex Pistols were good.”