I’m in the studio at the moment, working with my dad, producing a new song called Distraction. Drinking lots of tea and playing with drums, bass, synths and samples.
Here is an example of how the magic happens:
We’re listening to the song and it gets to the middle-8, and I say, “Hey. Okay, so, what if there was like… Quite a high-pitched noise… and it went… sort of, doodle-oodle-oodle… oodle…?”
I trail off because it’s totally impossible to convey an idea when you don’t even know what the tune should be.
My dad makes a brave stab at figuring out what I mean – a sort of steamy whistle doing a one-two-one-two tune, high up.
The noise is wrong though.
We look at each other and say “flute” simultaneously.
Dad rummages through his incredible collection of digital noise-boxes and finds a vintage crackly flute sound (a bit like Mellotron but cracklier).
We listen again. Sounds nice.
Then we go back to the start of the song and spend fifteen minutes discussing whether the riff in the bass should have that one extra note.
We decide to delete the note, on the basis that it makes the entire bass line too hokey. (One note can be VERY important.)
We stare at the screen. One of us says “um.” We’re not sure what to do next.
I go downstairs and put the kettle on again.