Chapter 8
Raine knew this process probably wasn’t going to get any easier, but at least, having heard music this man had created, she was able to find more respect for him.
After he’d knocked on the door and asked her if she was ready, they’d gone back in the studio and he handed her a sheet of paper he’d printed. On it were just a few words: Write a lyric that is painfully honest. Just one line.
Painfully honest? She didn’t know that she could right now. After all, the charity concert had proved to her that the world didn’t want to hear the truth. They wanted her to keep doing what she’d always done.
“Look. We just started working together. You don’t like the shit I brought to the table? Fine. We can start from scratch. But—”
“Just one line, Raine. That’s all I’m asking. Look deep in your soul and pull it out. You know it’s in there.”
“So you’re a shrink now?”
This time, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply stayed seated in his spot, looking at her, waiting for a real answer. As the seconds ticked by, she tried to think of something else to say, something that might make him rethink his request…or even let her off the hook.
But as he sat there without a word, the silence grew loud.
And she was going to have to do it.
“Um…okay.” Picking up her notebook, she turned to the latest song she’d been working on, the one she hadn’t shared with Quentin.
But he touched the page and said, “Why don’t you do it from the heart? I’ll record it, so, if you like it, you can take it farther.”
Somehow, that made it worse. But she nodded as he flipped a few switches on the board and then he gave her one short nod, letting her know she could do it whenever.
Closing her eyes, she let herself go to the deepest, darkest places inside, connecting with emotions she tried to avoid most of the time. Fortunately, the daily rage she bathed in drowned out most of the other feelings…but therein lay the truth that Quentin wanted her to connect with.
First, she started to hum softly, trying to find a tune.
And then it sprang to life.
I trusted you because you promised me the world…
Why was her voice so shaky? But it didn’t matter. Now that she’d opened the hole to the well, the water was gushing out—and he was going to get a lot more than he’d bargained for.
But you wanted everything in return.
My soul, my heart, my bones, my art.
You took everything from me; you desecrated it all,
And yet you made me feel like I was giving it freely.
You tried to be my savior but you were the devil instead
And I will never ever, ever be that little girl again.
She opened her eyes as she felt a fresh emotion wash over her. Quentin wasn’t saying anything but he nodded to her in encouragement, listening to her every word. So she pressed on.
And I thought I liked it, thought I loved it,
Thought I wanted it, thought I deserved it,
Thought I needed it, thought I owned it,
Thought it was what I’d bought and paid for…
But that was just what you wanted me to believe,
Because it made me your willing vessel.
You used me: my body, my soul, my everything
And I don’t know who I am anymore…
But did I ever know that little girl anyway?
She couldn’t sing anymore. For his part, Quentin had remained respectfully motionless and quiet, letting her do what she had to do.
The tears had started to fall again, followed by the anger.
Forcing herself to stop crying, she ran the knuckles of her index fingers under her eyes, smearing black eye makeup on them.
When she looked at Quentin again, she didn’t say anything.
After flipping a couple of switches on the board, he turned back to her.
She continued to wait, knowing he had to hate it just like he’d hated what she’d shared earlier today.
So she was ready for criticism and to hear any range of his distaste for her newest words, prepared for anything except what he actually said.
“That’s it.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s the first song on your album.”
“Really?”
Quentin’s dark eyes were clear and sharp and she felt like he could actually see inside her. “Yes. That’s the truth you should be telling.”
Swallowing, Raine let out a shaky breath. “Okay…but that wasn’t really a song. It was a stream of conscious vomit session.”
“Yes, one that can be shaped into a beautiful, haunting song that people will never forget. You’ve got the basics here.” As she looked in those dark eyes, she found that she trusted his instincts. “Why don’t we write the chorus? What lines do you think would work for that?”
So many of those lyrics had been words in her head every day for longer than she could remember.
And she knew.
“I think it should definitely have ‘My soul, my heart, my bones, my art’.”
“One of the themes of the song is you’ve taken it all from me, so that could also be part of it, either the line before or after. Where do you think it would work best?” he asked gently. “Or is there another way you want to say it?”
Hesitating, she hummed again and closed her eyes, tapping into the darkest part of her soul, the part she usually tried to avoid. She heard rather than saw the clicks of buttons on the board just before she began singing:
You’ve taken everything from me:
My soul, my heart, my bones, my art.
All that’s left is an empty room,
A shadow where my heart used to be.
“No, no. Wait,” she said, and tried it again. This time her eyes were open, but she still couldn’t look directly at Quentin.
My soul, my heart, my bones, my art,
You’ve ripped it all away from me.
All that’s left is this empty shell,
A shadow where my heart used to be.
What was that feeling inside her? It was like she was pouring out every ounce of pain inside herself, like blood was flowing from her veins. No, like she was bailing water out of a lifeboat…and right behind it was a sensation of lightness—as if she had wings for the first time in her life.
“Yes. This is exactly what the world needs to hear from you.”
They spent another hour getting the lyrics exactly right and then they moved on to solidifying the music that would accompany them.
Although this song was pure Raine…it was different.
She said, “These words shouldn’t have my usual sound.
I mean…they should, but I think it should be different somehow. ”
“I agree. What about this? One electric guitar, but not in a way that it overpowers your voice. It needs to be restrained. And no distortion. Your voice needs to be the main performer here.”
“Okay—but I don’t know how to not let the guitar fill in all the gaps.”
Quentin smiled. “Think ‘23’ by Jimmy Eat World or Paramore’s ‘The Only Exception’ until the last part of the song. But not an acoustic guitar. An acoustic would be—”
“Cliché.”
“Exactly. You can perform it that way onstage but for the album, let’s go with that. If we avoid cliché, it’s less likely this song will be dismissed out of hand. It still needs to be you.”
“Okay, I think I get it. My same sound, but restrained. Not necessarily slow.”
“You got it. We’ll still need some bass to fill it out and ground it—and the drums need to be soft. No crashes, no huge fills—just muted and soft, and maybe we wait to bring them in until the middle of the first verse or the first chorus.”
Raine felt her heart swell as she imagined the song in its entirety. “Yeah, that’s great.”
“Again, the drums need to be restrained—so much that people can feel them holding back. And that puts your voice, your words front and center.”
“But…some silence in there, right?”
“Yeah—the silence, those beats, they’re going to be part of the song too, and they’re just as important as when you are singing. They have to carry some weight.”
“What about piano or synth? Would that be too much?”
“Let’s try it. We can always take it out. Maybe let’s try it on the second verse.”
Raine hadn’t felt this excited about a song since…maybe ever. Maybe the first time she’d been in a recording studio and saw what they could do to her simple compositions to make them communicate the mixed emotions, the rage she’d been trying to let out. “Should we maybe…try shaping the tune?”
“Yeah. And…I don’t want this to be perfect. It shouldn’t be perfect.”
Raine tilted her head. “What do you mean exactly?”
“If we keep those imperfections in the song, it’ll hit even harder—like not editing out your inhales or times when your voice sounds thinner or weaker.
That will make this song more raw. I want your fans to feel everything you’re giving them—so no filler, no editing out everything.
When they listen to this song on the album, they need to feel like you’re standing right in front of them bleeding. ”
They spent hours working on the music, working toward a shared vision and, as the time flew by, Raine felt the strangest thing.
For the first time ever, she felt like someone actually saw past her mask to view the real her…without wanting to change who she was or pretend she was someone else. And he sure as hell hadn’t looked away. It just added to that sensation of floating.
Throughout the process, she had to continue swiping away an occasional tear, and she imagined this must be what a good therapy session would feel like. Quentin, though, was a fellow musician, someone who understood and managed to coax out of her exactly what she’d needed to let go of.
Once they had the music down and had recorded it, she sang it again twice. And there was that feeling again…that sensation of having exorcised a demon that had taken up residence inside her.
She’d never felt this way before. Her breath actually felt lighter.
Quentin said, “That’s it. You nailed it.”
Raine’s stomach announced that it was empty—and, when she saw that the clock said it was three in the afternoon, she said, “It’s a little late for lunch, but can we eat now?”
“I think we can break for the day. Good work.”
Nodding, she picked up her water glass, frowning as she again realized it had been empty for a while.
She’d filled it once and guzzled it before they recorded her vocals, but she hadn’t had much all day.
As she waited for Quentin as he shut off a few switches, she looked around the studio again, now feeling like at least this room was a place where she could be herself and where her art had perhaps been elevated, even if just for a moment.
When Quentin stood and walked toward her at the door, she couldn’t figure out his expression. And if anyone had asked, she would have said he thought she was…dangerous, because now he could see who she really was underneath it all.