25th to 2nd May recording our tenth album at Teviotside Lodge Nr Kelso
I looked out to the garden, something had caught my eye, the spring sky silver with hints of blue. There it was again, speeding past. House Martins had returned from their migration, it’s not really known where they migrate from, perhaps Africa, one thing I’m sure about. When something you love returns you suddenly realise how much you missed it.
After the longest of winters, with a little creeping uncertainty if the band would regroup not fully passed, I sipped on a coffee waiting for the Weird Decibels convoy to pick up me and my studio gear.
Ping went my phone, Derek proud that Niamh was smashing it at netball, Greg was next, chuffed that Ben was bossing it on the football park (he’s adopted the ‘Steeple’ celebration!). Stu had me envious of his bacon and tattie scone roll he bought after a walk to the shop.
It’s a different feeling of excitement embarking on a recording week these days, it’s evolved to one of gratitude that our families let us do this. It was six years since the last session, February, recorded at Craigenrae in Galloway Forrest at the end of 2019. I felt a relief that we were doing this again.
My living room was full of gear. Derek, Stu and Greg rolled up in their cars, they jumped out their motors and the band banter ignited. I wondered how we were getting my equipment into the cars, but we got there.
Once more Kirsty and Lewis were there to see us off, my son has watched me leave every time from when he was a toddler (Weird Decibels 1) to a teenager, now he is taller than me.
With directions stamped in we headed off. “This is happening!” I yelled from the passenger seat of Derek’s car. He smiled, recognising the familiar phrase.
The road down was fine, the fields bold green, lambs excitingly hopping around as the Scottish spring burst into life. We reached our destination a couple of hours early. Luckly there was a small bar restaurant just a couple of miles from the property. It only severed cans though, we didn’t mind as we sipped into some alcohol (free) drinks. My now the sun was radiant. Hints of summer heat pressed on my back, it really does feel like our summer arrives earlier these days.
As four pm approached we headed to the cottage. On the A698 cars rushed past as Derek and I searched for the secluded retreat. On the booking site, the main room has a sky light that protrudes from the roof, quite unique. It was this that we spotted. Derek turned into the drive. We had arrived (with the neighbours notified by Greg’s excited beeping of the car horn).
Surrounded by wildflowers and trees, a wood-clad building, dark green, draped with a traditional tiled roof, was Teviotside cottage. We pulled up, the driveway a little tight but we got there. Once out, Derek grabbed four cold beers, he uncapped them on a small fence then we clinked them together and sank our first gulps.
I grabbed the keys and unlocked the house. I had a quick glance at the neighboring property, a little concerned at its proximity. I had reached out to the booking agents to explain we were going to make a lot of noise, but they didn’t seem concerned.
We entered a long corridor offering glimpses of the main room, sunlight beamed as we approached. We emerged into the large, tall living space. Windows reached from the floor to ceiling, large wooden beams shaped the space into a triangle, everything held in place allow for less wall for more light. Looking up was the ceiling window and the blue sky beyond.
Twin doors opened to a spectacular decked balcony surrounded my glass. Trees, blooming with vibrant leaves, hid a chorus of songbirds, they greeted us with delightful performance. I can’t recall hearing such a euphony of birdsong.
Back inside the living room I opted to have the kit at the centre of the room with Derek facing down the hallway, this way the drums were matching the space of the room hopefully creating even reflections coming back onto the room mics.
I set up the desk just off the corridor, more due to cable length issues than optimal positioning, we used the living room coffee table and a couple of bedside cabinets but still managed to get a balanced monitor. Finally, our good luck mascot, Blue Duck, was placed in position on the right speaker. Unfortunately, Derek cut his head carrying gear into the room, the doorway had a low roof, it was easy to miss. Luckily it was not too bad.
For our last album ‘February’ we adopted a live recording approach, I had read of this in Sound on Sound (May 2019, pg. 114). Essentially having the drum kit surrounded by a horseshoe of guitar amps. It was a tremendous success for us; we had achieved just three days what would normally take us the full week (and beyond). These days time is against us, work and family commitments, for the last three recording sessions (including this one) the full band has been unable to commit to a full week. So, we have adapted.
Greg wheeled his bass amp directly in front of the kit with Stu and I placed our guitar amps onto stands either side, each with a SM57 placed near the grill, angling them directly behind the Rode (that were switched to cardioid), hoping the spill would be minimal. There was no guide vocal…this would prove problematic during tracking later, but it was not critical.
Mindful of the neighbours, Greg took a wander to the edge of the driveway whilst Derek pounded hell out of the kit. Greg couldn’t hear much, this was encouraging, the real test would be the full band playing,
We agreed that we would finish work around four or five every day. Mic adjustment and checks would start in the morning.
Derek brought in the traditional first night pizzas, we scoffed them. We had a few tins of beers on the sun kissed balcony, the shimmer of the water, sun reflected light dancing up stream. A few fish could be seen lazily swimming in the river below. A couple of swans glided past. It was bliss. For that night’s entertainment we put all the title of the albums and films we had made and placed them into a bowl to picked at random. It was a nostalgic trip.
Sunday setup and first few songs.
I was first up; I set up the remaining mics then wandered out to the balcony to listen to the morning. The contrast between the peace of the riverside and the noise of the band was like thunder on a sunny day. It was nice to rock out, equally nice to listen to the Blackcaps chirping alongside the Long-Tailed Tits, albeit with a little added tinnitus.
Given that I dip in and out of sound production, and that I’m not a professional, I do find it challenging getting a sound, especially a live capture. However, couple of years ago I attended a sound production night class at Forth Valley College (the Stirling Campus). I picked up a few valuable tips, including mic placement that really sped up our search of suitable tones.
With the drum kit set up we placed the mics, I used a spaced pair of Rode NT2A’s, at first evenly set apart but with room spill in mind, I decided to point them towards the snare ensuing that were equidistant. We had a SM57 place on the snare, an Audix D4 on the kick and tom mics placed (then fed through a mixer). Given we only had 12 tracks on the Korg D3200 we placed a Stagg condenser over the centre of the kit to capture the cymbals…it worked but there was a little phase which cancelled the body of the snare, so a quick switch and the snare sounded good ( I could’ve moved the mic but the balance ‘felt’ nice).
Once everything was in place we started to play. The room sounded fantastic, bringing a real vibrancy to our sound
‘I Make Great Mistakes’ was an early kick off, we love this song, written late in the writing sessions it’s one of our heavier numbers but fairly easy to place, a great builder of confidence. We recorded five songs, which was a great start following much of the day taking up mic placement. There was no knock at the door, I guess the neighbours were content.
Greg spotted a Bee in distress, we named her Bea…We tried to save her, placed some fresh orange on a plate and tried to receive her but it wasn’t to be (sorry). We left her overnight and she was gone the next morning.
Greg is now known as the Bee whisperer as this would not be the last time he helped our furry fliers.
That evening Derek treated us to an amazing steak pie (now a tradition), just another reminder of how great these recording experiences are. As usual I was fretting about the recording, the desk and the neighbours. I really wish I could switch off my brain sometimes.
Peace did come eventually as we sat in the evening sun overlooking the river Teviot
Mega Monday
Awoken by bird song drifting through my open window I made a rule not to waste time in bed doomscrolling on my phone (although I did have a few games of Football Manager 2019 as my Chesterfield were chasing promotion to the English Championship), so I got up grabbed a quick coffee and settled down to listen to the mixes. The first songs sounded good, but I found myself working the EQ on the guitars, so I adjusted the SM57s a little closer to Stu and I’s amps, what a difference that made. There was a chance of re-records, it always tends to happen using this method and it looked more likely.
We called this Mega Monday, somehow, we recorded most of the songs, there were a couple of blips. Greg, who finally started to use written notes to guide him, blamed me for giving him the wrong notes! Thankfully there was nothing critical, but he does tend to change songs during recorded, the best example being the chorus of Wonder (and it worked out rather well!).
It was a long day, Derek was pleased, the stool he used seemed to help his back and he mused not using his back support. Stu hammered the guitar all day, riff after riff, solo on top of solo. We were getting fatigued, recording live seems to ramp up the concentration compared to a gig. You shrug and move on if you make a mistake at a gig, you can’t do that in the studio. It’s tough on Derek, even small mistakes mean a re-take, he didn’t like putting us through that, but we didn’t mind. He was hard on himself, he probably made one mistake the entire session.
The rest of us made little scuffed notes here and there, we decided to keep them in, we want the feel of this record to be as live and raw as possible. Bad notes were a no, but we were able to cut in, thankfully the wrong notes were barely audible on the drums overspill.
The last song, ‘Cocaine Cop’, is a tough one. The pressure gets to us all at some point, on this occasion we adopted a new strategy, Stu sat this one out and it worked for we were able to get the rhythm down; he relaxed and nailed the guitars. Job done.
Later that evening, I went for a walk in the garden, reminiscent of a secret garden, at this point I was reminded of Pachyderm Studios, where Nirvana recorded ‘In Utero’ with the late, great Steve Albini. Our studio cottage felt secluded, almost magical. I did retreat from a swarm of irritated wasps at the end of the garden but other than that it was an incident free stroll.
Stu set up the Sega Saturn, the retro console is still going strong. Athlete Kings was back! Greg broke a record in the Discuss, very rare but great achievement! Of course, Derek then smashed this with an 80.10m throw, then equalled it in his next shot!
We had homemade burgers…oh my…Derek surpassed himself, just amazing. I greedily eyed the other guy’s plates, tempted to run off with extras!
Tuesday the tipping point
I opened my eyes, feeling a little fussy, realising that I’ve entered the last year of my forties. For the first time I was spending my birthday away from my family and I was missing them.
I got up and started working, we had a couple of more tunes to put down, this was the tipping point, where we commit to the live takes and move to overdubs. We didn’t strip down the kit that night, but it was coming, once we did that there would be no going back as replicating the exact kit placement and mic positions would be almost impossible.
The guys gave me a wee card and a huge badge that I had to wear all day. Nice touch.
After we had finished the live songs, fixed a few mistakes, we moved onto Stu’s dubs. He sailed through them, I could hear the stereo image of the songs starting to develop, but we didn’t want to add too much and at mix I might still cut stuff away. He laid a few solos and grew in confidence.
That evening, thanks to Kenny and Borders taxis, we headed to Kelso, it was like going back in time. I’m a little too nostalgic, for me it was a great experience walking the same route we had trekked back in 2015.
First stop the Queens Head Hotel, it had changed a little, great atmosphere and the grub was spot on. We bought a round paid for by my Mum and Stu’s dad Wull (cheers!). After a few we headed out the back, through the little courtyard emerging to the old Kelso graveyard. Gravestones, standing against time, surrounded by old trees draped with vibrant green. Flanking the graveyard was the ruins of the Kelso Abby, the last rays of the red sun peeking through gaping windows.
We made our way across the bustling square to Rutherford’s, a fantastic traditional pub serving real ales. The room was intimate, overspilled conversations, the locals talking about the market square, as the clock hit nine the bells outside chimed.
A curious mallard stopped by to peer in the window, one of the locals raked the bin for an offering. A smart duck indeed.
On tap was Hadrian’s Border Brewery Rutherford’s Ale, it was exquisite.
A local sat next to us, her little dog getting all the attention, she couldn’t help overhearing that we were in a band. We chatted to singer songwriter Rebbeca Mills for a while, she was discussing her musical project and upcoming gigs, reflecting that the local scene was gathering a little pace. It was nice connecting with the locals, maybe I need to do that more back home, Kelso feels so welcoming.
The bell for last orders rang, we headed back to the Queens Head, I called Kenny to arrange a time for a pickup. We had a pint and in the square, I was relieved to see Kenny waiting for us (Kelso gets really quiet mid-week…so taxis might have been a challenge).
Kenny told us about all the local tales and his adventures when he was younger, It was a good laugh. The car swung into the drive, headlights offering glimpses of the cottage. The guys nipped out of the car and I was left with the bill! I offered Kenny an extra fiver, paid and left. The next morning, when checking my bank app he had only charged me 22p. I was gutted, the guy deserved to be paid properly, so we texted the firm but sadly got no reply.
There was no chance we were ready for the night to end. Greg opened a bottle of Laphroaig (cue Wilson head shake) and poured four drams. We raised our glass to Greg’s dad Arthur who sadly passed just weeks before we were due to record. He would’ve chuckled watching Derek trying to drink a whiskey.
As I sat down, enjoying a beer and fixing a playlist I noticed that the guys had disappeared…then from the kitchen the flicking light of candles appeared. Out emerged my three mates singing happy birthday. They laid a cake on the table, upon the cake were three candles that spelt OLD.
Wednesday, tucker departs
Wednesday morning the cottage was cloaked in a grey mist, the air was still, the birdsong a little muted. Before we had booked this week Greg had warned us of his shift commitment. He managed to move things around so that he would only be away a couple of days, thanks to Tina, she convinced him to return the Friday for the last night.
We started the dubs, I admit I was a bit worried if Stu’s hand would hold out (he had been having issues recently, lack of movement.), we had at least two days of heavy playing ahead. He laid down a few tracks, I started vocals, being careful to order the songs, this album had potential to shred the vocal cords…However it was a great day of recording. The sun had re-appeared, bolder than ever, it had gotten hot. Thank goodness we had brought a fan. We said a temporary goodbye to Greg as he left for work,
Derek, Stu and I went for a walk across a crumbling bridge to the other side of the Teviot. Taking the little farm road we strolled for a while. By now the sky was cloudless, blue, the river peaceful, almost a mirror. In the field were bulls, massive bulls. One was a youngster, a little frisky, keeping an eye on us, the rest didn’t care about our presence. For some reason Derek kept saying hello to them…I’m glad I had my running shoes on…but then again, I was carrying an injury!
That evening the three of us sat on the decking, staring down the midges, they would not (b)eat us. It was a nice moment drinking some beer listing to Alice in Chains unplugged drifting from the room, so nice we shared it with Greg…he responded with a short reply!
The three of us sipped on some fine ales bought earlier in the week at Beercraft in Kelso, Tempest, a local brewery in Galashiels was a highlight. As the sun set, deep blues and oranges painted the horizon. The midges came back with more ultras…we retreated into the cottage and watched the snooker.
Thursday, Stu reaches for the sky.
Whenever one of us leaves the dynamic changes a little, the mood on Thursday was a little flat. Perhaps a mixture of Greg leaving, too much alcohol and the end of the week now in sight. That didn’t stop Stu though…
I was up early and started straight away on vocals, Stu and Derek didn’t mind being woken up by my yelling. We had to get the work done. My voice was holding, I was pleased.
Stu reached for the skies, despite my worries, he laid down some incredible work. His solos were as technical as the work from our early days, perhaps the weeks playing had loosened the fingers, maybe it was the surroundings, who knows but it worked.
Derek started his backing vocals, he seemed a little quiet that day, this picked him up for a bit. We had achieved so much on the Thursday, it was a very focused day.
Friday, what a finish.
With the finishing touches, including Derek laying down some backing vocals, the session was conluding. Stu, Derek and I once again soaked in the sun on the balcony. Greg was on his way back, we were all rested and the mood had lifted. We tried to book a table in Jedburgh but there was nowhere available, we arranged a return to Kelso, this time back at the Cobbles restaurant.
“Five minutes” came a text from Greg, He was early! The three of us hatched a plan, Greg was not yet on the infamous ‘spillage’ count, this was unheard of. I raced to the front door, put a stool in the middle of the corridor, upon the stool I placed an open a can of beer. We waited.
His car rolled into the drive, music blaring. We chuckled as we waited for the swearing as he spilled the beer, but it never came.
“Beer!” he shouted, and there in the corridor was Greg bowing down to the beer before taking an almighty swig.
After a few beers together on the balcony we tried a room vocal take with the four of us singing the end of ‘Virus’, by this time I was grumpy, the last thing I wanted to do was set up the desk and mics, think I was done by this point. But it worked well.
We phoned Border’s Taxis; this time a different driver picked us up. I explained the payment mishap and the driver chucked, it’s not the first time its happened he explained, but not many people fess up.
We got dropped off at the Black Swan a traditional pub in the heart of the town. When we entered the wood-clad bar Greg noticed, on the security screen, a pool table through the back. After we were served our pints we wandered through the back room, its walls adorned with pictures of rock icons, leather seats lay empty, the dimpled cooper tables still clean. Maybe it was a slow night or perhaps this was a sign of the struggle our pubs face.
At the end of the room, lit under the table lights, the green baize awaited. This was to become the first Weird Decibels world pool championships!
The semifinals were the rhythm section Derek ‘The Slammer’ Menmuir versus Greg “Trukka” McSorley. After a long, pensive match Derek emerged victorious with a defensive display. Up next the talent section, Stu “The Shredder” McCairney versus Pabs “Sighing” Smith. I went on the attack, but Stu played a good game of snooker…only problem he potted the black going for one of his yellows! I overcame the heckling from the crowd, Greg urging Stu to beat me. I was too professional to let his yelling faze me.
Derek and I were up for the grand finale, it was a tough match. Ended on a black ball finish. The nerves were showing from both of us, I had clear a couple of shots and lined up for the black. I missed and left an EASY pot, up swaggered a confident drummer…he missed! So, I stepped up, took a deep breath, potted the black. Of course, I was modest in my victory as first ever Weird Decibels pool world champion.
Our table the Cobbles was booked for 8pm. I was hungry, at least I had snacked, the other guys hadn’t had much. We arrived into the restaurant, it served Tempest beer which went down well.
We got our table after a wait, then there was another wait…it was around half nine and we had just finished what was an excellent meal. We were lucky to finish. A drunken trucker was getting louder and louder, knowing that he was winding us up, Greg with a grin on his face, cracked jokes and laughed out loud. Then came the muscles, the meal he had ordered, he loved them. As he scoffed them down, he started to choke, not quietly like most people but loud! Bit of muscle sauce clung to his beard, and once his throat was clear he laughed. What a sight, I couldn’t help but laugh. Noone seemed to notice us so it was all good.
After an apology from the staff (who were really good) we were offered free drinks for our wait, a nice move, we had some drinks to sip on. We watched as other diners were moved seats, then before us the local folk band appeared. A crowd of rugby players had arrived (It was Kelso sevens weekend), the band started playing, the place was a riot. People thumping on the tables, beating along to the music. I think the band was just as surprised as we were at the night that was unfolding. It was superb.
I looked at my clock; it was quarter to eleven! The local taxies stopped around then, I phoned Borders, thankfully they answered, a few minutes later outside the restaurant sat an idling car, it was Kenny! After a great wee journey home, including a wild story about a guy who refused to pay his fare, ran off then ended up in Saughton prison! All for thirty pounds! I made sure he was paid the correct amount. He drove off happy.
The night was long now, Derek said that he was going to come back in a minute, he went into his bedroom and wasn’t seen until the morning. Greg also retired leaving Stu and I to watch the Weird Decibels 2 documentary, there were scenes of us some ten years earlier walking through the same streets that we had just arrived from.
Time to leave.
Before we knew it, Saturday had arrived and it was time to leave. I’m getting better at leaving, I used to get quite low after these epic recording weeks, but I was looking forward to getting home to the family. There was no last looks or tours around the cottage, we simply packed the gear and headed off for breakfast at nearby Jedburgh, another lovely borders town that was slowly waking up to the weekend.
We were quite subdued, we found Coffee Corner, a small café, it has just what we needed, rolls and coffee but the room was hot. I had my head resting on my hands looking outside, watching the world go by. We didn’t say much.
After a short journey home, thanks to Greg for taking all my gear home, I was back in the studio, I wanted to lay down some quick mixes. As I unpacked my gear, I found the birthday card that the guys had given me, the messages inside included “All the best yell it! Here’s to many more lodges, songs, laughs and hols.”.
Perhaps we won’t wait as long to do this again the next time.
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