My last day at Hyde Street Studio C.
The memory is already fading.
But I made notes so here is what I know is true:
Catherine dropped me off, started at 3 in Studio C, worked on Happy Fly mix, reamped guitars for Java Junkie, dropped Eryn's vocal into Road, ran home via cab to get forgotten hard drive, got back to HS about 6, got set up in Studio A for Perri's planned 7:30 arrival, she texted at 7:30 would be hour late, we cancelled, did scratch vocals for Standing, a few for Wishing but decided that Perri's original would not have to be redone for Wishing, said goodbye to Jaime, walked out into mild night at about 8:35, caught Uber at Van Ness and Eddy, home by about 9.
And there you have it, in the cruel shorthand of rushing to not forget, a snapshot of my last day at the most important place in my musical life. The date was February 18,nearly a month ago, and I was feeling a bit guilty because back home my wife was looking after our twin daughters and struggling to stay on top of the thousand moving pieces our imminent move to Austin, where I am writing this now as a resident. But from those notes I can dig up more memories, less reliable, to be sure, but still true.
A "mild night". I remember I stepped out of Hyde Street's front door and braced myself for the cold that was not there. The air, usually a bit blustery, was soft and even a touch warm. Someone once called it earthquake weather based on the theory that warm air loosens the ground.
I remember getting Perri's text. Jaime and I had moved to Studio A (ha, so my last working session was not purely in C) and I was testing the mic. I wasn't upset, I viewed Perri's being able to make the gig as pure luck anyway, so when she could not, the worst part was just that I would not see her one more time, she's a great person (and singer!). Jaime and I opted to have me do scratch versions of what I wanted Perri to sing so that she could come at a later date and use my guide vocal to record her parts.
Earlier in the evening, I remember re-amping some of Tim's guitar parts through a Milkman amp because I had already packed away my beloved Carr Mercury. Jaime and I also dug through some old tracks, unfinished but not unloved or forgotten, we will finish them someday, talked a bit about the past and the future (there will always be the former for us, we both also want the latter), stared blankly at blinking lights.
When the day was well and truly done we said goodbye in the way people do when they fear it could be permanent and do not want to admit it.
There are very few places on the planet that hold more memories for me than Hyde Street Studio C. I am eternally grateful for all that Jaimeson Durr, Hyde Street Studio C's owner, did to help me. I've been lucky. I hope not for the last time.