January 4th 2020: the excitement of a first ever session in a recording studio

It is difficult to believe that the previous three posts in this blog all relate to one day, 3rd January. It was an amazingly long day, twenty four hours long in fact. No, it was actually 21 hours long, allowing for time zone differences, but every one of those 21 hours had been a conscious experience. How could 4th January come close?

It did. An amazing day, one which will remain in my memory forever. It began with breakfast in the little apartment. At some point on the 3rd Iraida had done some shopping for food essentials, and so had black bread and cold sausage, with coffee. "Delicious to say the least", to quote one of my efforts at writing a song, a song based upon an overnight train journey from Moscow to Volgograd.

Now that links quite nicely to what was to be the first adventure of the day. A few weeks ago I had received a message from Eugenia. She had seen a video of me singing at the Harbour View Speakeasy (a weekly musical extravaganza at a pub in Sunderland, organised by two amazing musicians and good guys, George Shovlin and George Lamb). It seemed that Eugenia had enjoyed my performance and asked me if I had ever thought of being a singer, and had I ever thought about recording any of my songs. My responses had been "No" and "Yes".
Eugenia then asked whether I might be interested in booking a couple of hours in a recording studio in Yaroslavl. It seemed that there were several such studios in the city, and that they had very reasonable rates. I answered in the affirmative, thinking that this would be an interesting experience. So Eugenia agreed to search out and book a suitable studio. This was why I was carrying a petite Steinberger guitar on my trip, as well as a tiny Blackstar amplifier. Unfortunately I had forgotten to pack the cable which links the two, so wasn't able to practise or busk in the streets of Yaroslavl or Moscow. I should have ended that sentence after the word "practise".
Nevertheless, Eugenia arrived at the flat and it was time to prepare for the icy streets again. The worst part of this ritual is putting on my boots: a task which I find almost exhausting, particularly without a shoe-horn. With that task accomplished, we crammed in to the tiny lift again and descended to the ground floor. Apparently the studio wasn't too far, so we would walk there.

The pavements seemed even more slippery than they were yesterday, and on occasion the support system worked on a mutual basis as feet slipped sideways as they failed to get a grip. 

Eventually we came to what looked like the entrance to an industrial area. In fact it looked like the entrance to a derelict industrial area, a bit like those post-apocalyptic scenes in Destiny, the video game I have seen my grand-daughter Lucy playing. We approached one of the buildings and identified the metal door which would give us access. Inside there was a steep, narrow wooden staircase, which led to another heavy door. 
This in turn led to what could describe as the reception area of the studio with sofa and coat-stand, and here we met Aleksander, the owner. The room was lined with heavy canvas cloth, as were all of the other rooms in the studio. I assumed this was to absorb sound. I wondered what these rooms might have been in their previous life in a large building which seemed to have been a printing works at some time in the past. Following normal Russian etiquette we removed boots and replaced them with the slippers provided. Once divested of our outdoor clothing we were led into the studio itself, with microphone stands, amplifiers and a drum-kit. 

This was my first time in an actual recording studio, complete with window into the control room. After a discussion with Aleksander, and borrowing a cable to link my guitar to a large Vox amplifier, it was decided that I would record four songs live. By live I mean that I would sing and play guitar simultaneously, rather than record voice and instrument separately. We would just record the songs in one run, and the Aleksander would chop the resulting files into four separate elements. After that we would attempt a duet, with Eugenia and I singing to a backing track.
And so, once I was comfortably seated, my guitar on my lap and the microphone set at the right height and distance from my face, I began to play the first of my four songs. I say that I began to play, but in essence I had forgotten how to play my guitar, forgotten the lyrics and forgotten how to sing.

With the help of an iPad I at least could recall the lyrics, but I seemed to be singing a different version of the melody. First up was "I Once Met the Prince of Darkness" which recounts and unfortunate encounter in Moscow, with Soviet cognac and Soviet champagne back in 1966.
Next I moved on to "Immigration Card Blues", which tells the tale of a mislaid immigration certificate and its impact upon my visit to Moscow in April 2014. The song also refers to a wonderful song by Peter Gabriel, in which he duetted with Kate Bush: "Don't Give Up". To read a blog posting about this event, go to https://itsrobin-robin.blogspot.com/2014/04/dont-give-up-you-have-friends-moscow.html.

Next it was another of my own songs, "I'm Going To Do Some Travelling" which relates principally to the thousands of miles I have travelled in the last twelve years, and to some of the wonderful people with whom I now share precious friendship.
Although there were other songs of mine that I would have liked to have recorded, I really wanted to sing a song by Billy Joel, "Leningrad" which he wrote after a visit to the Soviet Union. It means a lot to me because again it refers to friendship to be found in unexpected places

Once I finished Mr.Joel's masterpiece, it was time for what was to be the highlight of the studio experience for me: the chance to try to record a duet with Eugenia. We had decided to sing "Don't Give Up", and this was to be undertaken in a more normal way for a recording studio, I understand. Starting with a backing track and then recording the voices separately to be mixed together by Aleksander. This was doubly new to me. I have never recorded anything before with a backing track, and never with another human being. Eugenia was wonderful. She guided me through the process, counting me in at the appropriate moments, stopping me when I made mistakes and helping me to eradicate the mistakes. Some of the high notes in Peter Gabriel's version were just beyond my reach, so I dropped down an octave, I think. I hoped it would sound ok. 

Eventually, when my part was complete, I went and joined Aleksander and Iraida in the control room, and watched and listened to Eugenia laying down her track (see, I'm learning the language!)
I enjoyed watching Aleksander manipulating the elements of the song, slotting in Eugenia's recordings between and with mine. It was fascinating.
When everything was recorded, including a retake of one line of my part, to replace a slide up to a high note with an effort at hitting it right on the note, we thanked Aleksander, paid our dues, put on boots and outdoor wear and ventured outdoors.

If by any chance anyone would like to hear the results of this session, please let me know in the comment section of the post, or by private message and I will try to share the songs somehow. It's fairly straightforward with my own songs, but I'm not certain about the formalities of sharing a copyrighted song.

We had decided to go back to the apartment to drop in my guitar and have lunch before setting off to explore more of Yaroslavl. We popped into a local convenience store to buy some food and water, and I was very impressed by some of the cakes on display.

Then it was back to the apartment , before setting off on what turned out to be a magical afternoon and evening when the city was transformed by a fresh fall of snow. But that is in the next post, coming soon.