“I-I mean … I’ve never been to one. Where is it? Don’t you have to book and pay for it in advance?”
The guys from my band in New York and I were in the process of setting some time up at a studio when everything happened. It was expensive, and we were just about able to finally pay for it.
“Jack has one in his house. Most of our stuff has been recorded there. He lives about an hour away in the Oakland Hills.”
“You think he’d be up for it?” I ask.
Adam nods. “Oh, yeah. He was digging what we were doing last night. Kept saying he’d love to hear it in the studio. I’ll give him a call in a few. He doesn’t have the early girl alarm clock that we do.” He playfully rubs his hand over Cailin’s head, making her giggle as she pushes him away.
* * *
I’m in absolute awe as we walk down to Jack’s basement and enter the studio set up in his house. The wooden walls and foam-coated boards bring me both happiness and sadness.
My bandmates and I dreamed of being in a place like this someday. The studio we were saving up for was nothing compared to this.
Sound booths sit in each corner, and in between them, a drum set is set up with guitars sitting on their stands, just waiting to be picked up.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jack says as he opens his arms wide.
“This is amazing.” I sit at the mixing board, mesmerized by all the knobs and sliders, taking in what each one does.
Cailin climbs up on a high stool that’s tucked in the corner. When I look closer, I see right next to it is a sign that saysCailin’s Seat Only.
“So, I can’t sit there?” I ask, teasing.
Jack swoops up next to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a bouncer would to intimidate someone. “Nope. This is Cailin’s spot, and I’ll have to escort you out if you try to do anything funny,” he states in a deeper voice.
She mimics his motions and his tone. “Yeah, this is my spot.”
Adam leans down to whisper to me, “See, it’s not just me she has wrapped around her little finger.”
I grin to Adam, and he winks as he steps into the sound booth.
“Is this thing on?” He taps the microphone, and Cailin holds up her thumb.
“So, you went over the lyrics?” Jack asks me.
“Yeah, and she sang a few parts that we weren’t thinking she would, so I want to give that a try,” Adam responds.
“Nice.” Jack nods his head to me like he’s proud of my work.
“What are you guys thinking for this? I mean, he played the piano for it, but what else do you want to add?”
Jack goes over how he wants it to start low, building the tempo until the beat drops and the song takes on more of the hardness their fans are used to.
I pick up the lyrics that Adam placed on the table as we walked in and go over them a few more times.
The song is a perfect love ballad for his genre of music. It doesn’t use the words or slow pace that people are used to. It’s not cheesy, and to some, it might even be confusing, but that’s what relationships are—a mixture of emotions that flow like the ocean.
He’s acting as if a relationship were as simple as asking someone if they could come over to his house. He wants to hang out, but it’s more than just for the night.
He wants to take the place of the random people around her, and this is his way of showing it. Asking if she can hear him is his way of asking if she understands what he’s trying to say, but he can’t get the words out.
Saying he’s only a little ways away shows he’s ready now; she just has to invite him in.
It’s everything I’ve always loved about Adam’s music. There’s so much meaning to the words that are spoken; you just have to care enough to listen to them.
“Did I hear we’re bringing a chick in to sing with us?” Noah throws the door open, announcing his presence in a way only he can.
