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On the Precipice of Greatness: The Too Big to Fail Diaries: Days Four and Five

Day 4
First day in the studio, The Laundry Room, in the El Serrano section of L.A. Ulysses Noriega at the helm. Great guy. Every doctor should have such a bedside manner. He nudged us at just the right times.  We did basic tracks for nine songs. I drank a lot of tomato juice, munched pretzels. My knee gave me grief toward the end of the session, but overall I felt pretty good for 44.

Day 5
Bowie and I finished basic tracks. Pepsi and goldfish. Reno started guitar tracks. Ulysses hooked him up with a monster Marshall stack. My god it was loud.  Been going to shows for 20 some odd years and I couldn't be in the same room with that amplifier. After that it was vocals. My favorite part of recording because I finally get to hear what the lyrics are. I don't know if we're going to stick with Too Big to Fail. One back up title: Short Stories with Guitars. I fly home tomorrow. Next month Bowie and Reno finish the vocals and mix.  

-- Mike Faloon

Past Entries:

Day One

Day Two

Day Three

On the Precipice of Greatness: The Too Big to Fail Diaries: Day Three

We rehearsed in the morning. In the afternoon we ran around town taking pictures for the album cover with our friend Kathleen. It was hot and sunny, so obviously we wore flight suits.  

First stop: The Proud Bird. It's a theme restaurant with about two dozen decommissioned aircraft mounted on the grounds. Kathleen got in a couple of good shots of us posing with the planes but we were asked to leave.

Second: Ralph's grocery store. We made it half way down the cereal aisle before a manager asked what we were doing. They were nice enough to let me buy some Clif Bars before we left. I was surprisingly hungry.

Next: Blockbuster. The employees left us to our own devices us but we had a difficult time finding the movies we were looking for. Apparently Blockbuster has abandoned alphabetical order for some abstract classification system. Some days you just can't find the Meg Ryan films.

Last: The Roosevelt Hotel. What better place to drag your flight suit-wearing tuchus than an outdoor pool in downtown L.A.?  The lounge chairs were like queen size beds -- really comfortable queen size beds.  Kathleen worked her magic from the opposite side of the pool. Reno and Bowie considered umbrella drinks. I was nearly asleep when we were politely escorted off the premises. The guy was so gracious about it I thought about tipping him.  

I can't wait to see the pictures.

-- Mike Faloon

Past Entries:

Day One

Day Two

On the Precipice of Greatness: The Too Big to Fail Diaries: Day Two

Back to San Pedro for rehearsal. I was very excited. I'd learned the frameworks of the new songs yesterday and anticipated a day of playing around, trying out different ideas. We'd book the whole afternoon. I felt really good about being ready for Thursday's recording session.

Reno and I arrived early. Reno forgot his meds and wasn't up for driving, so I went out to get his prescription filled. I don't drive stick but the drivers of San Pedro were quite patient.

Two hours later I was back and ready to practice. That's when Bowie showed up. He was late but that was fine. Reno and I were late yesterday. These things balance out. Unfortunately, Bowie forgot his bass. Matt, our host, found another bass in the house but it didn't work. He was too tired to go ask other friends to borrow a bass. I think it was the excessive paint fumes he'd smelled while silk screening posters. Matt gave me the names of a few people who might be able to help and I went canvassing the neighborhood. I think the locals pegged me as a Pedro newbie but what's a little hazing among friends, right? The fourth door I knocked on was Vincent's. Sweet guy. Most generous in loaning us his Gibson bass.

By the time I got back to practice Reno had lost his meds, so I had to get that filled again. I never actually played drums but apparently Reno and Bowie accomplished a lot. Matt said he thinks the songs are coming together well.

— Mike Faloon

Read On the Precipice of Greatness: The Too Big to Fail Diaries: Day One

On the Precipice of Greatness: The Too Big to Fail Diaries: Day One

Photo by Skizz / Jersey Beat

What’s it like to be on the precipice of greatness, on the verge of creating a lasting work? Kurt Vonnegut about to begin Slaughterhouse Five or Buster Keaton embarking upon The General? Until today I’ve only been able to imagine what such experience would be like.

Egghead, for whom I play drums, begins rehearsing this week. We haven’t played on a regular basis since ’97. I’ve flown out to L.A. for three days of practice followed by three days in the studio. 13 songs. Our debut full-length. Working title: Too Big to Fail.

My bandmates, guitarist Johnny Reno and bassist John Ross Bowie, recorded demos a few months ago. I’ve been listening to them when I drive to work. The new songs are excellent. As a drummer who doesn’t write songs (aka a drummer in a band) I’m kind of like a fan within the band. I thought it would be interesting to document the process of rehearsing and recording this monumental record, Too Big to Fail, for the dozens of Egghead fans eagerly awaiting the album (or in many cases, informing them that such a record is in the works so that they may commence awaiting).

Day one

I’m staying with Reno for the week. His bungalow is in West Hollywood. It’s cozy but there’s a weird vibe. I think Andy Dick used to live here. Before Reno moved in. Last night we watched the Olympics. Reno and I. (There shall be no more Andy Dick references, implied or otherwise.) Or rather fast forwarded through three hours of Tivo to watch a few minutes of biathalon. He wore sunglasses and insisted on turning off the lights. He hadn’t shaved in days. It was like I was hanging out with Howard Hughes. We talked about going grocery shopping this morning but around ten o’clock he stumbled downstairs clutching his eye. He mumbled something about an appointment with "the only doctor who can help me right now." I pressed for details but got nothing in return. The doctor’s credentials are suspect. This made me feel like I’m hanging out with Lenny Bruce. Genius is hard to decode.

He seemed better when he returned a few hours later. We drove down to San Pedro, to the Killer Dreamer house, where we were rehearsing. John, our bassist, was already there. I played drums for much of the afternoon but can’t recall more than one or two songs wherein both Reno and Bowie played at the same time. Reno was coming and going all day because his “eye medication” kept wearing off and Bowie did a lot of Twittering. The bits I managed to read over his shoulder full of vitriolic anti-tax rants. I think he’s going Tea Party.

Tomorrow holds great promise.

— Mike Faloon