As a hard rock guitarist, I get the occasional request to be on someone else's recording. The requests are borne of someone's need for fast, edgy, guttural, raw, harsh playing, and I give them that. This was a little different. She wasn't a rocker, but what I had to offer was what she wanted.
When I first learned that she had asked for me to record on a new song, I was stoked, happy to say the least. There I was the guitarist in a local metal band, no recording contracts but playing enough gigs to make a pretty decent living. Clubs and small arenas mostly. Once in a while there came an occasion for my band, Conscious Nightmare, to take part and perform in front of a really good sized crowd. In one of those crowds was someone with connections who was just out with friends to have some fun. Word of mouth is a powerful advertising media. Apparently our name had been bounced around pretty high up, and a few visits to our band site resulted in a series of emails with out manager and eventually a few phone calls. Their people told more people and her name was brought up. After a while her request for a good rocking guitarist was sent down the communication lines and ended up on my desktop. Good thing our manager sent it or I would have deleted it right off.
The day arrived, and I was of course, nervous. It was a late evening session, but I had my schedules all emptied out for this one. I went to the studio as directed and went in. There was a receptionist at a desk and she smiled as she spoke:
"Welcome to Image West Studios, are you recording today?" she asked, her voice was sweet, and she had a bit of a Georgia accent.
"Uh, yes, "I fumbled the words out, raising my guitar case, "I'm here to record some guitars..." I couldn't quite believe I had said the words. Even though I had spent the last two weeks studying and learning the part, I was still a little starstruck by it.
"You must be Kain, "she said, smiling, "go ahead and have a seat and I'll let them know you're here, sugar." she continued, pointing to a black leather sofa. I had a seat and looked around as she got on the phone. There were gold records all over the walls, famous faces along with them. A few of them I recognized, and even had their CD. A moment later a heavy set man came from the hall.
"Kain Thornn? "He asked. I stood up, nodding. "My name is Ed, follow me, please." He said. We went down the hall and through a door marked "Private" Inside were a few engineers, and there she was. She approached me and offered her hand.
"Bienvenidos, Kain, I am Shakira." She said with a smile. I shook her hand and replied;
"I'm honored to meet you!" I said. Her hand was soft yet firm in grasp, and her eyes had such a depth to them. She continued;
"This is Joey, he's our recording engineer, "she said pointing, "that's Max, our producer, Milo the studio tech, and you've already met Ed. They will be helping us get the best recording possible." I shook hands with all and the work began. I went into the studio with my guitar case and opened it up. I noticed there was an amplifier ready to go. Milo set a microphone in front of the speakers.
"We're gonna get some levels first, "he said,"but I'm sure you understand the recording process already." He laid out the microphone cable and ran it to a set of plugs and connected it. While he went back in the recording room I got my guitar hooked up. I double checked the tuning and fired up the amp. I banged out a few chords and some bluesy riffs, just to get the feel of it. The amp responded to my playing quite well. Milo's voice came out on the intercom, "Kain, go ahead and play a little bit so I can make all the adjustments." I started playing one of my own pieces. It was a haunting tune I had written years ago, a song called Who Mourns the Unknown. They sat and listened to the tune, its twists and turns, and its sad strains of solitude. I hadn't noticed that all activity in the control room had stopped. I stopped playing and apologized,
"Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go on so long, and "I said, "Are we ready to go?" They talked quietly for a moment and then Milo piped in through the intercom,
"We're ready in here, what I'll do is cue the part where we need you to play, and you go ahead." He said I put on the headset on the stool beside where I was standing and gave a thumbs up. The song flowed into my ears, a gentle ballad, soothing strings as ethereal as a dream. My part came up and I started playing. All the hours of rehearsing paid off. I nailed it in a rare first take. Even the biggest names in recording don't often get a great recording the first time, and this was my turn to feel good about it.
Later that evening, with all the mixing done and the production side finished, I was invited out for a few drinks with them to celebrate the finished product. They literally piled me into a limousine with them and told the driver to go to their usual place. Shakira was sitting beside me and dressed to kill in sort of a black lace tank and black jeans, while Joey and Ed sat by the wet bar, and Milo and Max sat across from them. It was strange riding backwards in a car, but I wasn't complaining. She leaned over and asked,
"Kain, do you dance?" Her arm was on my shoulder and she was looking right into my eyes. Her gaze was inviting and I could see the reflections of the streetlights dancing in her eyes.
"Not a lot, but I try when I need to." I replied, grinning sheepishly.
"Well tonight you dance with me!" she declared. "I will help you so do not worry!"
We arrived at the club shortly after, and from what I saw it was strictly A-list. Big names from Hollywood and the music industry were all over the place mingling with us lesser beings. But I didn't care; I was on the arm of arguably the hottest Latina in the business. Or was she on my arm?
