Finally, Once Upon a Riot began recording our album—and we got lucky. Just like with our first one, Jeff Craven, our first amazing producer, was by our side, but this time, we were in a studio in L.A. Since we had to travel anyway, we decided we’d come to them, so our only expenses were hotels and food—and we didnothave the label paying for them since we still had some of our advance money.
Fortunately, Zack seemed to be trying—he seemed sober, at least when we were recording—and we spent long days in the studio to keep our expenses as minimal as possible. Two weeks later, it was completely done and we were all satisfied with the results. Even Cy, Braden, and I were happy that we got to contribute to some of the musical composition.
And Zack tried to keep his need for control at bay. Even though there were things he insisted on, he was trying. Of course, that made my heart go out to him.
Because he was so in control, he managed to persuade Jeff into letting us sneak in a secret bonus track—and so one ofthe three songs we’d cut ended up on the album after a few minutes of white space on the last track. It’d be a little treat for fans who listened to the whole thing. Jeff also confirmed that it might be possible to re-release the album a few years down the line with the other two songs we didn’t record.
Even though the whole process was as smooth as a spring breeze gliding over a lake in the middle of summer—especially compared to the first time, I started really paying attention to Zack the last few days. It made me convinced that his drinking was as bad as ever—he was just getting better at hiding it. If I hadn’t seen him using Visine to make the whites of his eyes look less like roadmaps, I might not have given it a second thought—but then I noticed all the other signs…like needing to take a break in the evening before putting in a few more hours butnoteating dinner with the rest of us, how he’d take a few Tylenol tablets with coffee some mornings and sometimes he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
And I was pretty sure I smelled alcohol on his breath once or twice, even though he usually made sure not to get too close to any of us.
But I told myself his drinking wasn’t out of control like it had been, and I prayed that he was trying to drink less, trying to wean himself off it, especially because he didn’t want us demanding he go to rehab.
And I hoped with all my heart that, if he needed the help, he’d eventually acquiesce to our requests.
For now, I kept as close an eye on him as I could.
The last week of August, we were back in L.A. to film a video. The label had insisted that “The Grind” be our first single—but they changed the title to “(If I Ever) Get Home Again,” a line from the chorus of the song, because they thought it would be more radio-friendly. The theme was much like Mötley Crüe’s “Home Sweet Home” or Bon Jovi’s “Dead or Alive,” only more upbeat and fun. It wasn’t a ballad—instead, it felt more like an anthem. And, as I thought more about it, I believed the label had made a good call in choosing it to be the first single. Like most of the tracks, it had a bluesy feel, but that vibe was subtle in this song, as opposed to the majority of them.
We had two days on the set, which was in an empty lot somewhere in the city, surrounded on two sides by chain-link fencing and buildings on the other two. Of course, there was technically an alley at the back between the fence and a tall brick building, which wouldn’t have been an issue if delivery trucks and other vehicles didn’t keep using it. As a backdrop in front of the building on the side, there was a huge black tour bus with a vinyl sign displaying our logo.
When we walked on set, Braden grinned and said softly, “As if.”
Yeah, we’d have to sell the image that we were bigtime rock stars, even though we were still poor as dirt. Maybe someday we’d be riding on a bus like that, but not right now. On the back of the set, up against the alley, was a makeshift stage about a foot off the ground with a huge backdrop sporting the band’s logo. There were lots of light poles around it and I’d discover later that, on film, the stage looked great at night.
Like at music festivals, I would be using a drum kit that was not my own, but the guys brought their guitars and bass. Nothing to go along with them, like distortion or overdrive pedals, no amps, nothing like that, because our “playing” would all be an illusion.
But there was hardly any empty space in the lot. There was a bunch of filming equipment and then two tiny trailers that I discovered later were for changing clothes. There was also a canopy tent with several tables with mirrors and lights formakeup and hair. At first, I thought people wanting to do business at the building next to the lot and surrounding the area would be annoyed—and some probably were—but most people seemed curious about what was going on and would stop and gawk, especially once we began filming.
Not long after we arrived from the hotel where we stayed, the director introduced us to everyone on set. These folks weren’t nearly as snobby as the ones we’d dealt with when we’d filmed our very first video in Denver the year before, but the director was a little full of himself. Jean Pierre Ruffin was, according to Russ with marketing at our label, an up-and-coming hotshot whose services had been offered at a steal.
I’d make my own decision about that when I saw the numbers—but, for now, I tried to relax and go with the flow.
The first hour we spent listening to his vision, looking at storyboards, and walking through the “script.” There were five models on set as well, tall, thin women with impeccable makeup and long, shiny hair who would be actresses in the video, and we were told that dozens of extras would arrive at dusk.
The video would start out with us just “hanging out” in front of the tour bus after walking off it, looking a little tired but no worse for the wear—as if we’d been on the road and had arrived home. When Zack would sing—all of us without instruments—he would look at us and then the camera as if talking.
It felt a little cheesy to me, but what did I know?
Jean Pierre asked us to think of dialogue for the very beginning—like what would we be saying as we walked off? He planned to include a little of that as well. These scenes we would film for several hours. There would be wide shots with all of us and then close ups of each band member. Then we would be filming on the sidewalk outside the chain link, andthe band would be walking one way, the models the other—and Zack and a woman with long black hair, sharp red nails, a snug black dress that barely covered her ass, four-inch heels, and the sharpest cheekbones I’ve ever seen, would both turn and look at each other. Both Braden, Cy, and I and the other four models would keep walking in the direction we’d been heading, but Zack and the model—a woman named Elidi—would slowly walk toward each other and gaze into each other’s eyes, pausing within inches of each other.
Later that night, we’d perform a “concert” with the five women watching in front of a larger crowd—and the video would end with Zack escorting her toward the tour bus, his true love found. “He’s coming home,” Jean Pierre said, and I did my best to stifle a giggle, because it all felt over the top.
“We’ll film the first two scenes while we have daylight. We’ll break at one for lunch and then at seven for dinner—both will be catered so everyone stays on set.”
At least that seemed smart—so Zack couldn’t run off and drink and then be worthless for the rest of the shoot…or impaired anyway.
“We will stay as long as it takes to get the shots we need.”
“How late do you think that’ll be?” Zack asked.
“As early as eleven, as late as four in the morning. And then we’ll meet again at eight AM sharp to review what we have and take any other shots we might need before wrapping up. Any other questions?” After a short second, he said, “Good. Let’s get you into costume and makeup.”
An hour later, the sun was higher in the sky but the temperature seemed pretty reasonable compared to Nopal this time of year. Unfortunately, the humidity was a bit much. I and my bandmates were used to a drier climate. The worst part was the costumes, because when we exited the bus for the first shot, we were all wearing either leather or jean jackets.
After filming the first scene of us exiting the bus and talking, they got shots of us at the front of the bus and then walking along the side, just engaging in conversation and acting like we were joking around, because, Jean Pierre said, they would be creating a montage effect throughout the video and they needed a lot of cutaway and insert shots.
The day was exhausting but fun. They kept us well hydrated and there was always food on a couple of tables under another canopy, but the crew were friendly, the energy was upbeat and fun, and the crowds that began accumulating made us feel important.
