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[Rod Affleck]

You know what annoys me? The whole cowbell thing. Yeah, it was funny once. For a week. Three years ago. Now it's just tired. Get over it.

[rankus]

I've got a fever... and the only cure is....

[J.J. Blair]

Curve Dominant wrote on Sun, 07 May 2006 01:24

Here at the Curve Lab, we utilize Verizon AnswerCall. It works like an automatic secretary.

Does it have 32-bit floating point internal processing?  I hear that it is arguably not possible to improve upon from a sonics standpoint.

(Wow.  I'm a dick!)

[aerophone]

More cowbell!

[redfro]

J.J. Blair wrote on Sun, 14 May 2006 23:04

Curve Dominant wrote on Sun, 07 May 2006 01:24 Here at the Curve Lab, we utilize Verizon AnswerCall. It works like an automatic secretary. Does it have 32-bit floating point internal processing?  I hear that it is arguably not possible to improve upon from a sonics standpoint. (Wow.  I'm a dick!)

Yeah, that's pretty harsh....funny, but harsh.

[Ron Steele]

Sometime I don't have to get up early to go to work.

Other times, I get annoyed when I have to after a night out at the pub.

It's hard to time this shit.

I also get annoyed when I look at all the drums and mics I have after programming loops all day that suck.

One day I sat back and listen to Carly Simons "your so vain" and thought,

holy-shit,

what a great record.

With Andy Newmark on drums. Huge fucking tom fills.

Then I come home and the fucking disney channel is on 24/7.... Hannah Montana.
Who is Billy Ray Ciruses daughter. He's even in the fucking show.

Then I think, Carly or Billy?

Thank god for my sons baseball games and those Newmark fills?

But....I will be cutting real drums {bigband} tomorrow for a fucking commercial you can see soon during Hannah Montana.

[Ali Moniack]

Re: the handclap check - I was in a newly built studio recently and the OWNER HIMSELF suddenly started clapping his hands to demonstrate the effectiveness of his treatment (mainly carpeted walls I hasten to add). It unfortunately went Gank! Gank! prompting him to add "Nearly there" before pretty much offering me some time in there tracking rock bands...I said nothing and silently, slowly backed towards the door...

Chicago sounds a bit like Glasgow (i.e. a shade apocalyptic), we're "out of the way" near an airport so the value of copper piping hasn't affected us much yet, but as far as pet hates are concerned:

Yes, the mis-coiling/treatment of leads is always no.1, especially those hard wired to vintage equipment. Why?

All patchbay wiring un-neccessarily cleared (mid-project) because someone "needed a clear mind" when doing something else incredibly simple (ok not difficult to re-patch things but again, why?) There are a couple of things (like the scope) which will always be taking a signal from somewhere. A lead hanging out of something someone else was using yesterday which you won't be using today could be left until the other person has finished with it, couldn't it? A very small thing, but I struggle to understand, to the point of killing.

Use of MY chair.

Watching other people work. I try not to look or listen, it's utter agony.

Talking. Shut up and listen, it's getting done NOW.

"Nice tape machines, have you got P*! T*&%s?"

Un-necessary use of the word "Rolling" especially after initial tracking when the performer can clearly hear the cue. This upsets me (and some performers) tremendously.

Rats. Brown ones. Nibbly ones.

(Sorry) People who plainly cannot sing well enough for the job intended but who insist on an Elton John-esque marathon of comping in the vain hope that you will make wine out of water and then ask about auto tuning later blah blah. No. Everyone around you is in pain.

Money. Shame but everything must have a price it seems, even art(obvious but it affects all recording). I wish I could do more for free/for my friends. I hate charging them, but we wouldn't be there for them otherwise.

Join the Orwellian Hate-In!

[Pingu]

electrical wrote on Sun, 30 April 2006 01:31

Not much really annoys me. This shit annoys me: I grab a bunch of mic cables and they're all coiled wrong, so they tangle into a wad when I try to unwrap them. Someone tried to use the wrong mic clip for a mic, and instead of getting the right clip when he realized his mistake, he wrapped a yard of gaffer tape around the mic. At the end of his session, he put the mic back in the drawer with the tape still stuck to it, and now it's a gummy mess I have to contend with. Instead of lowering the thermostat, they've propped-open the door so I'm heating the great outdoors all day. The band spends the first three hours of the day lolling around on the phone, creating a manifesto of a lunch order, socializing with their friends and fucking around on Myspace, and then wants to work until 4am "because we have so much to do..." The phone rings and nobody answers it, so I have to interrupt what I'm doing and answer it. Then the staff's collective response to this complaint isn't "you're right, we should be answering the goddamn telephone," but instead, "See? We need voicemail." The mobile phone makes the guitar amp go "dit-dit-dit" during the quiet part. For the eighth time today. When the dude you did a favor for acts like the favor was standard and expects an extra-super-double favor this time, and gets weird when you decline. Graffiti. Buy your own damn building, build your own damn gangway and spraypaint your name on it. Leave me out of it. The land speculator assholes buy the building next door and knock it down, in the process fucking up the water main, the electric service, the sewer, cracking the wall, flooding the basement and making life hell for a few months. They then leave it as a vacant lot for two years, with a swampy marsh in the center that breeds mosquitoes and smells like Gary, Indiana. Then the bums who collect scrap metal and cans from the alleys start using the swamp as a place to burn the insulation off cabling to get the metal out. Then one of the bums notices that there is a copper coolant pipe on the side of our building running up to the HVAC unit on the roof. The bum then tears this pipe off, so he can get a couple of bucks for it from the scrapper. Then I have to spend $5000 fixing the blown compressor, replacing (and bum-proofing) the whole shebang. And the land speculator assholes adamantly refuse to help us out at all. To recap: Mic cables, tape on the mic, the door open, the band wasting my time, the phone/voicemail thing, mobile phone noise for the eighth time, the dude you did a favor for, graffiti, the land speculator assholes and the copper pipe thing.

I love every word of what you said.

Especially this.

Quote:

When the dude you did a favor for acts like the favor was standard and expects an extra-super-double favor this time, and gets weird when you decline.

[The Resonater]

Steve,

Generally speaking, you can coat nearly any type of surface to repel graffiti.  Still somewhat of a pain in the *ss, but at least you can get the graffiti off of your nice building.

[Daniel Asti]

electrical wrote on Sat, 29 April 2006 13:31

To recap: Mic cables, tape on the mic, the door open, the band wasting my time, the phone/voicemail thing, mobile phone noise for the eighth time, the dude you did a favor for, graffiti, the land speculator assholes and the copper pipe thing.

Your neighbor should contribute to those expenses. There has got to be something you can do that's not a complete waste of your time.

Groups of people can sometimes be infiltrated by a slacker or slackers. Usually it can be just one person that makes the whole situation unproductive and unworkable. Find this person and terminate said individual. Either that or start charging a hassle fee; $100 everytime they hassle you.

[Bob Weston]

What's a "log roll"?

bob

[NelsonL]

Bob Weston wrote on Wed, 31 May 2006 14:41

What's a "log roll"? bob

It's a signature Mick Fleetwood fill.

[Rod Affleck]

Bob Weston wrote on Wed, 31 May 2006 18:41

What's a "log roll"? bob

Tabernac!

[Ali Moniack]

Quote:

What's a "log roll"? bob

It's UK slang for "Shit Sandwich".

[Hud Hudson]

I hate drummers who show up four hours late for an all-band session because their fill-in at the 7-11 didn't show up, then arrive without their kick pedal and haven't changed heads since Roosevelt was president. That's Teddy, not Franklin.

I hate guitar players who leave their half-smoked joints on top of my vintage Marshall half-stack. A basketweave cab ain't an ashtray.

I hate interns who steal the half-smoked joints from the top of my Marshall half-stack.

I hate all the entourage members some bands bring to the studio who consume all the food and drinks we keep in the fridge for ourselves, who don't have time to take a break and catch a meal. Munchies will put many studios into Chapter 11.

And that duct-tape-around-the-KM84 trick bugs the shit out of me. What's a safe substance to clean that crap off my mics?