Chapter 8
Arecord contract. A real fucking record contract. Gene can hardly believe it, but also would never doubt the excellence of his band, to be able to achieve such a thing. With how amazing Ray’s voice is, the world needs to hear him, Gene believes.
And that’s exactly what they’re doing today: recording their songs to be able to spread their music far and wide.
They’re sitting in a little studio in Detroit called United Sound Systems. Brown wood-paneled walls, metal chairs, and jumbled messes of cords surround them as Gene sits next to Ray, letting the resident sound engineer play back their most recent take of ‘Fly High’.
This will be their first single, with many more hopefully to come.
Gene takes a drag from his cigarette as he listens to Ray’s dreamy voice on the tape.
It still needs a little more, more vocal harmonies, more harmonica, and he wants to add another layer of his guitar to overdub.
The other three band members have already left and are on their way driving back home to Grand Rapids with their parts finalized; Gene and Ray are staying later for the finishing touches.
They don’t have a motel room though, so they’ll be driving back home in Gene’s car when the time comes.
It’s necessary, too, since Gene still has some art he has to finish for his class on Monday. I’ll be glad when I finally graduate.
“I think we also need a harmony on the verses,” Ray says, lounging back on his folding chair next to Gene.
“Not just the chorus. Would give the whole song more oomph. Oh, and then another layer of voices on the chorus too, so it sounds like three, no, four people. But it’s really just two of me and two of you doubled over. What about it?”
Gene smiles and nods, tapping his cigarette into the ashtray by the sound board. “Yeah, I like that. Might as well go big with what we can only do in the studio, since we can’t sound like that live.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah…” Gene scratches his recently-shaved chin. “I’ve thought about this before. You don’t want to sound exactly like the record when playing live because—why even see a band live when you can just listen to the record, if they sound the same? It needs to sound unique; its own experience.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” Ray smiles.
“And it should also sound like one cohesive thing… I’ll use Pet Sounds as an example. You can remember how that all sounds, yeah?”
“For sure.”
“Yeah. I know our style of music is different, but… What I mean is—Pet Sounds has that ‘wall of sound’. All the instruments blend into each other, along with the voices. Even if things were overdubbed and other parts added on later, it still sounds like it was all recorded all at once. The sheer genius of Brian Wilson. It meshes together, as one entity.” He threads his fingers together.
“So when we mix this song, we should keep that all in mind. Try that out for ourselves. You like that?”
“I don’t just like it—I love that. You really are a musical genius yourself with all this knowledge you’re sharing, you know that?”
Gene shrugs, chuckling. “What can I say? I love music. My biggest interest. I love studying it, focusing on it, listening, playing…”
“How ’bout you go in that booth and sing, then?” Ray chuckles back. “Add that extra harmony layer we were talking about.”
“Alright, alright. Sure.”
Gene puts out his cigarette and steps into the recording booth, throwing some headphones over his ears.
Before he records anything, the sound engineer plays back the tape so Gene can form the harmony in his head.
He’s always been able to select notes out of thin air just by listening, identifying them without even knowing on paper what they are—G, A, B, then D, back to G—then finding the matching harmonies that go with them in the same key in an instant—B, C, D, then F sharp, back to B.
It’s a bit ridiculous how good he’s gotten with this note identifying trick; he’s even been able to recognize at what note an elevator dings—ah, that’s an E flat.
This musical ‘superpower’ is what he believes has helped him write melodies so easily, analyzing the notes in existing songs, fine-tuning his own, discovering new riffs.
Lyrics, however, are a whole ’nother story.
While he thinks he’s come up with some good lyrics here and there, Ray has been the true lyrical powerhouse.
It’s one of the ways they fit together so well as a songwriting team—Gene creates the riffs and melodies while Ray forms the lyrics on top.
Or vice versa—Ray comes up with some amazing lyrics, and Gene finds a melody to go along with them.
Once he’s done recording, Gene steps out of the booth and sits back at Ray’s side.
“That was amazing, Gene. Your voice is wonderful,” Ray says with an infectious smile. “You know what? I know I’m the lead singer, but I think sometime we should write some songs where you sing lead. What do you think?”
“Really?” Gene can feel his cheeks heating up. “Um… I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. As long as you’re still there, and you can harmonize.”
“Of course. I’ll always be there with you.”
Those words send a surge of warmth throughout Gene’s chest; he feels like he’s about to melt.
“Then yeah, let’s do it.”
It’s dark on the drive back home. Street lights zoom past the windshield like fireflies as Gene and Ray pass through Lansing on their way back to Grand Rapids.
Thankfully, it’s starting to get warmer again and most of the snow has melted, making the roads drivable.
They’ll all have to come back to the studio next weekend to finish up the B-side of their first single, but Gene thinks they have their A-side secured now.
Ray grooves in the passenger seat while ‘Some Kind of Wonderful’ by Grand Funk Railroad plays on the radio. Gene does his best to keep his eyes on the road while Ray’s being so distracting, though at least it’s making the two-hour-long trip entertaining.
“You know, Grand Funk’s also from Michigan. They’re from Flint, I think,” Ray says, settling down. “And they’ve made it big. They’re getting tons of airplay. If they could do it, we totally can.”
“For sure.” Gene nods. “We’ve got what it takes. All we gotta do is finish up this single and make sure it gets heard.”
“And then—on a night like tonight, that’ll be us we’re hearing on the radio. Not Grand Funk. God, won’t that be crazy? Hearing our own voices coming out of the car speakers?”
Gene chuckles. “Definitely.” He stops at a red light. “I’m looking forward to the day when out of nowhere, we suddenly hear it.”
“‘Fly High’ will be flying off the shelves,” Ray says, talking with hands waving around. “Then it’ll be another single—and then an album! Then it’ll be sold-out shows, people wanting our autographs, taking pictures, our faces even printed on T-shirts… Don’t you dream big like that, Gene?”
Ray’s hand lands on Gene’s thigh.
Gene’s heart misses a beat.
The touch from Ray’s fingers is so warm, so comforting. A rush of something wonderful spreads from the point of contact and travels throughout his whole body. He looks over and locks eyes with his best friend.
“Oh, um, uh…” Ray stutters, his face suddenly bursting into an adorable shade of red even visible in the dim lighting. He slowly pulls his hand away and looks out toward the road. “It’s a green light.”
“Ah, yeah.” He chuckles sheepishly, releasing the brake and stepping onto the gas. “But yeah, to answer your question, I do dream big. I wanna know what it’s like, everyone knowing our music, singing it with us.”
He chances a glance from the road to peer over at Ray. “Exactly,” Ray says, a sweet smile on his face. A rush of relief washes over Gene as his shoulders lose tension, glad to know that the somewhat-awkward moment between them didn’t alter the good mood. It keeps his spirits high.
“But even then, even if we are gonna make it big, we shouldn’t let that jade us,” Gene says, eyes back on the road. “Remember why we started this band in the first place.”
“To make beautiful music together,” Ray answers, and Gene hears a chuckle in his tone. “I haven’t forgotten. I’ll never forget. You and I are in this till the end, no matter what. If there even is an end, anyway.”
Ray’s words bring back the warm feeling he felt before. Gene can’t help but smile. “For sure. I hope this never ends.”
May, 1975
‘Fly High’ literally has been flying off the shelves.
Released at the end of March, the Dusty Brooms’ first single has been selling like hotcakes.
It’s not too much of a surprise to Gene, as he knows the intensity their fans show at their gigs.
They’ve been waiting for their chance at obtaining a record.
Sure, they’ve only been reaching high numbers locally and not as much outside of Michigan, but it’s expected for them to start small.
Once the states nearby notice how popular they’ve become, a ripple effect will emerge and soon enough, the entire country will be selling out of the Dusty Brooms’ records.
‘Fly High’ has been receiving tons of airplay on their local Grand Rapids FM stations, WZZM and WGRD.
The song has also been spreading waves on Detroit’s WABX, and—most amazing to Gene of all—the Brooms have been played on Windsor, Ontario’s AM800 CKLW, heard by thousands and thousands of people.
Nationally within the US, the song is coasting along the charts at a steady number 27 among the top 40 hits. Amazing, especially for a debut.