Charlie

I called Charlie last night to come over to listen to how I'd mixed his songs. You see I'm very pleased with myself now I've become a record producer. Charlie had written the songs performed them in my recording studio and I'd mixed them down and they sounded great. Much better than the flat lifeless sound of the bare recording. I'd even laid down some Mandolin tracks on his songs to give them songs greater depth or colour.... 69 takes later.......So Charlie ever the enthusiast said he'd come over at nine.
11:15pm he's hammering on my door. Pissed out of his head. "Hey sorry man, I've had a really serious day. Shall I get the beer in for us."
"The shops shut Charlie."
"No!"
"Yes it's 11:15."
"Never. Shit Mike where's the time gone?I tell you it's bin an intense day today. Shit! I'm wasted."
"Never mind I've got the beer."
"I've got a cool new song. Can we record it?"
"You're pissed Charlie, you can barely stand never mind play guitar."
"No I can do it. It's an emotional song and I'm emotional right now, I'm intense, I'm right there."
We went up and I sat him down with a guitar and a can. He fiddled with a cigarette and rumaged through his pockets for a lighter, saying "fuck" a lot. I find him a light. He calms down as he takes a pull. While he chills I play him the new versions of his songs. He likes them.
Then he wants to record a new song, he's already got a can of strong lager open and only half drunk and he opens another. I point out that he hasn't finished the first one. "That's cool man! I need it to be ready for me, in ten minutes I might not be able to open the next can, so I'm doing it now."
You can't argue with that logic.
So he positions himself with guitar, it's plugged in and the levels set. I turn my back to him to check the mixing desk and when I turn round he's spark out, cigarette hanging from his bottom lip and guitar still slung across his body. Rock and Roll.
I wake him up. "I wasn't asleep." he says and continues "right I'm there, I'm in the zone, hit the record button."
I press record and his fingers wander aimlessly about the fret board, tripping over strings and getting caught in between. He's in no fit state to play anything. but he insists he can do it. He falls asleep again.
I throw him out. He's still clutching the cans of lager. Really he should stop drinking but it's been "an intense day". He wants to go to the garage to get more fags. They don't serve him because he's drunk and carrying cans of lager. I find him 30 minutes later wandering the streets. I point him in the direction of his house and let him go when he's about 20 yards away from home. I think he made it.

Anyone know how I can put an mp3 on this blog so you can hear Charlies songs? Just wondered..............

Rock on dudes
He'll be famous one day.