I don’t know what it is that I find about in-the-studio blogs to be the most fascinating: the behind-the-scenes commentary; the raw, unfinished products of writing that come from the urge to get something out; or perhaps just the feeling of being there. Stephen let us know about the blog a couple weeks back, and I’ve really been digging it. I want to highlight two recent entries that really struck something within me:

In A Note on My Lamentable Blogging / Assembling the Team, the always wonderful Ben Shive—who, in my mind, can never get enough credit for being his Ben Shive-iest—wrote a lot about bringing in people for the band for the record. It’s not that he just name-checks Wilco or Hem’s Rabbit Songs—although I might argue, Ben, that Eveningland is better only because they had an orchestra with them and carved out some room, sonically, for Sally’s voice—but he gets into why you want the people you pick to be in your recording band:

Secondly, we knew Paul would crack us up for three days straight. That kind of thing [is] incredibly valuable to a record. Happy, comfortable people are more able to make music from their hearts. Thirdly, we knew that Paul would prepare himself for the sessions if given the opportunity and would work obsessively to make things great. Paul is a detail person. We hired him one time to sub a christmas show and he made immaculate charts (sheet music) and read them perfectly during the show. Didn’t miss a beat. So, Paul Eckberg, ladies and gentlemen.

All that and no comment about his dreamy blue eyes? For shame, Ben!

In “And so it begins…” AP details the joyous process of overdubbing and how it messes with him a bit:

I’ve played ["I've Got News"] probably a hundred times, and still, playing it with a click track is nigh unto impossible for me. I always feel like I’m completely incompetent and that a real player like Gullahorn should just come in and do the durn song. When I play live, I’m always slowing down and speeding up so that I can sing it like I want, but playing to the click is different. That metronome is like potbellied, whiskery viking beating a drum, and I’m a slave chained to the oars.

Ben is a patient fella, and we took the song literally a measure at a time. I’d play until my timing was off (usually a few seconds), Ben would stop me, then we’d punch in on the next measure. Somehow, by the time we splice all those attempts together, the song sounds like I know what I’m doing.

Think about it—you can either make a record where you get everyone together and take the best take you get—which is how they used to do it in the bad old days of four-track recorders, really—or you can painstakingly break it down, bit-by-bit, and get it just how you like it. There’s something to be said for both schools of recording, but for someone who cares about his craft as AP clearly does, this is what you gotta do. It’s where you make your bones, man.

You may be thinking, “Man, I read enough blogs as it is,” but I think you ought to give AP’s a shot if you haven’t already.

And yes … we’ve noticed, too, that the lineup on squarepegalliance.com has changed. Yes, we’ve known about this for some time. Yes, we’ve wanted to tell you. We hope to have words for you soon—preferably from the Square Pegs, but if not from them, from us. Soon.