The
Agency may have a job on a Star Ship as Harry “Fingers” Putz from
3009th
Century. They know I specialise in 20th Century players. It's not a
job for me especially now I don't need the money. Brian suggests that
I take an interest in the business and visit the Scrap Planet to see
our latest buy being dismantled. I would rather poke my eyes out with
a stick insect. Life without a music job or the excitement of an IGBI
operation is tedious in the extreme. I mope about the ever expanding
apartment playing each of my six pianos in turn. I started of in 93a,
and I am now in 93,a,b and c. I don't need so much space. I am a
single man. Then it comes to me. I can set up a recording studio. I
have the room, and I have the means. Not just any old digi set up,
but a true 1930's single take studio in one room and a 1950's
analogue reel to reel deck in the other. I call
Artie.
*****************
Artie is a wiz with electronics as well as being the best sax player on the agency's books. He can turn a cardboard box into a mixing deck in a flash. We try out the 1930's studio first. It has RCA above the door and a red light.(The 1950's studio has Elvis above the door.) The RCA studio uses the Magnetophon system as the BASF engineers, did in 1936. (They used the Magnetophon, to recorded Mozart's Symphony No.39 with the London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. The first tape recording of a full symphony orchestra, it was of surprisingly good quality.) With Artie as the recording engineer , I use the Bechstein pianoforte, a copy of the 1920's model, which gives me the sound I want. I lay down a couple of tracks in the style of Marie Lou Williams and listen to the playback. It is all purely for our own amusement. There are probably no more than a couple of establishments able to play back the recordings, the machines tucked away somewhere in the depths of a music college. However the sound is astonishingly good. Artie is the nuts.
He is in his element hunched over the machines twiddling knobs.
“We should get some of the boys over and see what happens, throw a party”. He says. “How about a Fish Fry?”
Now there is an idea a 40037 fish fry, give Brian something to do instead of wrecking star ships.
************
I call in a Vid set Art Director, and under my instructions she has converted the apartment into a facsimile of a tenement block of 1930's Harlem. Brian is not happy, he thinks it is a waste of shekles, turning his lovely apartment upside down. I am the boss, though, he is my servant, pandering to my whims. The success of the scrap business has gone to his head and he needs setting straight.
“It just stinks,” says Brian. “Let me spray it with something pleasant.”
“It is supposed to smell like this, it is the smell of life. Not something you know about of course just being a load of circuitry.” He goes into one of his moods.
“Well if this is life I am better off as I am. It is disgusting. The olfactory circuits are complaining. They can't work out whether to spray disinfectant or set the sprinklers off. It is worse than the putrid body I bought.”
“Brian, can it, it's my party, my house, my money. Have researched all about Fish Fry's in Harlem as I instructed.”
“Stupid way to raise money if you ask me.'
“Well no one is, have you sent out the invitations, with the dress code attached?”
“Yes Sir, some of the guests seem a bit suspect. though”
“And is there enough cat fish in the larder.”
“Complete with whiskers and fur, Sir.”
Ah that's better a bit of sarcasm, now we are ready.
*****************
Artie is a wiz with electronics as well as being the best sax player on the agency's books. He can turn a cardboard box into a mixing deck in a flash. We try out the 1930's studio first. It has RCA above the door and a red light.(The 1950's studio has Elvis above the door.) The RCA studio uses the Magnetophon system as the BASF engineers, did in 1936. (They used the Magnetophon, to recorded Mozart's Symphony No.39 with the London Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. The first tape recording of a full symphony orchestra, it was of surprisingly good quality.) With Artie as the recording engineer , I use the Bechstein pianoforte, a copy of the 1920's model, which gives me the sound I want. I lay down a couple of tracks in the style of Marie Lou Williams and listen to the playback. It is all purely for our own amusement. There are probably no more than a couple of establishments able to play back the recordings, the machines tucked away somewhere in the depths of a music college. However the sound is astonishingly good. Artie is the nuts.
He is in his element hunched over the machines twiddling knobs.
“We should get some of the boys over and see what happens, throw a party”. He says. “How about a Fish Fry?”
Now there is an idea a 40037 fish fry, give Brian something to do instead of wrecking star ships.
************
I call in a Vid set Art Director, and under my instructions she has converted the apartment into a facsimile of a tenement block of 1930's Harlem. Brian is not happy, he thinks it is a waste of shekles, turning his lovely apartment upside down. I am the boss, though, he is my servant, pandering to my whims. The success of the scrap business has gone to his head and he needs setting straight.
“It just stinks,” says Brian. “Let me spray it with something pleasant.”
“It is supposed to smell like this, it is the smell of life. Not something you know about of course just being a load of circuitry.” He goes into one of his moods.
“Well if this is life I am better off as I am. It is disgusting. The olfactory circuits are complaining. They can't work out whether to spray disinfectant or set the sprinklers off. It is worse than the putrid body I bought.”
“Brian, can it, it's my party, my house, my money. Have researched all about Fish Fry's in Harlem as I instructed.”
“Stupid way to raise money if you ask me.'
“Well no one is, have you sent out the invitations, with the dress code attached?”
“Yes Sir, some of the guests seem a bit suspect. though”
“And is there enough cat fish in the larder.”
“Complete with whiskers and fur, Sir.”
Ah that's better a bit of sarcasm, now we are ready.
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