October 30 was a hectic day for me. It started with submitting my 1st semester grades. Making and submitting grades is the part of teaching I enjoy the least. So I was only too happy to get it out of the way. I got to the studio early and paid my utility bills (via ATM), another thing I dread in life.
We started an hour early (1 pm) because I wanted to do a final remix on two of the songs that I felt lacked that last bit of cymbal sizzle. By 2 pm, we were finally ready to master the album. I had been eagerly looking forward to this stage because Angee had promised to do some extra special processes. Back when we were doing pre-production planning, one of the things I complained to Angee about many recent recordings is the "coldness" of the digital system. He assured me that in the mastering stage, we could include one analog component in the mastering stage. This would make things sound warmer, and prevent the dreaded digital "clipping" that plagues many CDs. He also told me that this would serve as some kind of "glue" that would make the tracks more cohesive. When "Dear Kuya" was finally set up, I wanted to hug Angee because the result was magical.
Just as we finished "Dear Kuya", alarm bells suddenly went off. A frantic Monch called up, saying that EMI was to bring down a copy of "Batang-Bata ka Pa" to the studio. EMI had talked to me about its inclusion in the album in our initial meetings, but I didn't remember any concrete decision being made about it. But here we were, just hours away from the completion of the album, and I had never even heard that recording. In addition, my mind had already been set about the placement of each of the new songs in the album, and I did not have the energy to think about where to put it in the sequence. In my haste, I fired off a panic-striken e-mail message to EMI complaining about the situation. An hour later, I had calmed down enough to talk to EMI over the phone, and ultimately gave way to their decision to put it in as the "last" song. I called Shinji Tanaka, in whose studio (Sound Creation) the song had been recorded and mixed, and alerted him that EMI was on the way to pick up a copy of the mix. Even he was taken aback because he had just learned of the situation from EMI half an hour before I called. But he assured me that he would give me a clean, clear copy. The confusion left me rather rattled, so I just left Angee for the next couple of hours to continue mastering. That was a pity because I missed some of the magic that was unfolding. When I went back in, Angee was halfway through, so I managed to catch the second half of the album. After all the songs had been mastered, we had our regular early (5 pm) supper. We then plunged back into the studio for the assembly. By 8 pm, we had burned the first test copy of the album. I then called in the band to hear the complete album for the first time. Faces lit up, and high fives were exchanged after every song. At the 5th song, the CD had developed an error, so we burned another copy and continued listening until the album ended at 9pm. We then burned the final master CD for EMI, and copies for the band. The project was officially completed at 10pm, right on schedule.
We had asked EMI to throw a listening party at 10:30 in Geilos, Eastwood. So we set off from the studio at 10:15, armed with the master CDs. We arrived unfashionably on time. Of the 50 or so people who were there, I knew only a few. Monch and a bunch of EMI people were there, so were a group of the band's friends. I later heard that there were a few media people, but no real paparazzi. I immediately played the entire album, and like what happened in the studio, good vibes and high fives became the order of the night. Dong Abay had a gig one floor down, and I spent the entire first playing of the album with him before his gig. The two of us screamed with delight at each clever instrumental line, and swooned at every dramatic vocal passage. After three months of hearing the recordings only in the confines of the studio, our car stereos, and our MP3 players, the album sounded brilliant and powerful over the speakers of the club, with no EQ or fancy enhancements. I was tickled pink when after the last strains of "Wag Ka Nang Umiyak", Ebe gave his girlfriend a long, passionate, and loving embrace. After the last song (Ikaw Pala), Dong hugged me as he had done when I had completed his album "Flipino". Ebe, Jal ,Kaka and Angee followed. With those gestures, all my worries and anxieties evaporated. All our hard work was done, and the recording had finally been set free. I could finally stop critically evaluating every element, and just sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor. Raimund Marasigan showed up moments after the playback. So I played the album again at a lower volume, as most of the partygoers were now engaged in various conversations, and were on their third bottle of beer. Raimund loved the sound, and had special compliments for Kaka's playing. He marvelled at how on Wari Ko'y, Kaka sounded like two drummers.
I left the party past midnight. On the way back to the parking lot I met Mico, one of the bands die-hard fans. She apparently couldn't make it to the party because of work. She told me that although I looked exhausted, I was clearly in a joyous mood. I couldn't have said it any better.
Its been more than a month since we finished the recording, and a week since the album launch. I've read most of the comments on the album in various blogs and discussion groups. Whatever has, and will eventually be said about the album won't really phase me much anymore. What is important to me is that we achieved most of what we set out to do, and learned a lot about music, recording, and ourselves in the process.