“We are not trying to make you into someone else. We want you to be you. And we want to shine enough light on you that the world wants that. Just you.”
Noah has a way with words when it comes to new artists, especially ones that he knows will chart the billboards with Hardin’s name across the front.
As we make our way down the hall of the BlueJay Studio in downtown Nashville, it’s me, Avery, our father, Cass, Amanda and of course Noah walking at the front of the line with January Parker. Her manager is walking on the other side of her.
“It’s wild to be here and the idea of touring with Malina Mavis is just crazy,” January admits. She’s new, fresh, and intimidated by all of it. That’s normal. And it’s something that a little photography, PR, and of course a good hit song will change. It’s hard to be modest when a million people are sharing your number one song on TikTok and your Spotify listens hit the same mark.
“Are we talking a double headliner or is she opening for Mavis?” the manager asks.
“That depends on how much popularity she gains in the next few weeks. Most likely January will be the opener with a promised hour-long set. Which in itself is a sweet gig to land considering who Mavis is right now. But if she sells enough? We’ve seen new stars outshine the chart toppers. That could be you,” he winks at January who is utterly beside herself.
We step inside the recording booth and Noah shows her around. Amanda has a similar giddiness that she is struggling to hide as she looks around as well. The signed framed records and black and white photos on the walls flaunt the faces of the people who have been in this booth before us and to be honest, this studio still gives me chills. And I have seen it all.
“This is crazy,” Amanda mouths the words quietly to me.
“A little starstruck?” I ask with a grin. I want to pull her against me. I want to kiss her while she paces around the studio in awe of where we are standing. From the Neumann U87 to the Machina pulsar monitors, to the high end distressors, and microphones that are so precise you can hear the vocalists' fillings rattle in their teeth, Nashville is no joke in the music department.
“That doesn’t even scratch the surface of what I am feeling right now,” she whispers.
I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “And to think, you get to play with all of it later…”
“So why don’t we plug it all in, run through your demo and see where we are at?” Noah asks. January nods eagerly. She’s ready to go, which I love. While she is definitely walking on clouds, her head is attached firmly to her shoulders, right where I want it to be. That’s another thing. Avery and my father have signed people on simply because an algorithm told them it would be profitable to do so. But even the artists with the most popular edge are going to flop if their heart isn’t in it for the music. January is different.
“Why don’t we leave you kids to it and we will check back in when you have something that Hardin can work with,” Hiram says. We leave Noah, January, her manager, and Amanda inside while me, Avery, and our father step out.
Avery lets out a breath just as the door to the recording box closes.
“She seems promising,” Hiram says.
“She seems modest,” Avery retorts.
“Not everyone is going to fly out the gate fists swinging,” I remind him. “She’s young but she’s in it for the right reasons.”
“If that reason isn’t to be a superstar, we are wasting our time. Mavis is going to outshine her astronomically. Which means that Davies Records is going to outshine us. It’s going to be like Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree just doing its best next to the Rockefeller tree.”
“You have no faith,” I shake my head at my brother.
“And you are supposed to be a realist.”
I grit my teeth, and my lips stretch into a tight smile. “January loves music. But more than that, she’s good. She sings with her soul. Writes with her heart. She–”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Pops are you hearing this?” Avery quips.
Our father, who has taken a seat in a leather chair in the hallway under a poster of Johnny Cash. “All I am hearing is the same damn thing I’ve been hearing since you boys were young. Arguing. I side with Callum on this one. I think the girl has potential. But that’s IF we can pull a hit single out of her. If we can’t do that, she will be piggybacking the Mavis tour and Davies will most likely slide another act in there above her. We can’t afford that.”
“That means she’s a risk. That should scare you,” Avery shoots in my direction.
But I’m not worried. “What even is music without a little risk?” I ask with a smirk, my eyes focused hard on my brother. With that, his outer layer sheds a little. He’s afraid…because if she is in fact a hit, that’s one point for me and zilch for Avery.
“I feel like I am in over my head,” January takes her headphones off and slouches on the stool. We have been at it for about two hours now and while we were off to a solid start, we are quickly losing momentum.
“Tell us what’s going on kid,” I say into the mic so she can hear us from the other side of the box.
“It’s like the way I hear it in my head isn’t coming out right.”
“She’s flat,” Avery shakes his head. His hands are on his hips and he’s pacing behind me. Honestly, I wish he’d kick rocks. The recording part of this world has never been his corner. He cares about the signing and the profits and nothing in between.
“She’s not flat,” I say, making sure the mic isn’t on. “She’s got it in her. It’s just coming out wrong.”
