The worst session you have ever done.

[jakeao]

The worst one I had was when I was going to school for recording, and we were working on the class project final of recording a band. The band was good, and the singer was ok. On the last day though we spent over 4 hours recording one sylable, of one word, because the singer just couldn't quite hit the note. When we stopped for lunch, almost the entire class didn't go back. We all got a good ass chewing the next day, but damn, where do you draw the fucking line, and cut your losses.

Not nearly as fucked up as the poop story. If that isn't proof we came from apes I don't know what is

[alex matson]

I think we have a winner.

This reminds me of the short story, "Big Boy" from David Sedaris' book Me Talk Pretty One Day.
When I was in a touring band, one night after the show this gorgeous girl got on the bus with a bag of presents for every member of the band and crew. And a homemade ginger cheesecake. She had met the band before but somehow I missed it. Each of the gifts was tailored to the recipient. She had heard I had a big sense of humor, so the book was my gift. I thanked her and stayed with her while the others got on and off the bus, as I found her to be a lot more interesting than whatever else there was to do. Plus she looked to be around thirty instead of the usual college sophomores that were taken in by the Dave-Matthews-lite schtick (actual description of us from Pitchfork) that we inflicted on gullible music lovers across the country. A chance to flirt without feeling creepy! Then the lead singer got on board and did his usual routine (that had earned him the nickname 'the Dozer' because of his reputation for bulldozing his way to the attentions of any cute girl that got in our vicinity, whether he had a girlfriend at the time or not): he grabbed her from the couch we were sitting on so that she could see the latest pictures he had taken on his computer. (Even though laptops were pretty common in 2001, he insisted on bringing his desktop, 21" CRT and speakers on board at the start of every tour and strapping the whole thing to the dining table, thus making it impossible for any of the other nine of us to use the table for anything, like, say, eating.)
So I started flipping through the book. The very first story I turned to was Big Boy. It begins:
It was Easter Sunday in Chicago, and my sister Amy and I were attending an afternoon dinner at the home of our friend John. The weather was nice, and he'd set up a table in the backyard so that we might sit in the sun. Everyone had taken their places, when I excused myself to visit the bathroom, and there, in the toilet, was the biggest turd I have ever seen in my life - no toilet paper or anything, just this long and coiled specimen, as thick as a burrito.
I flushed the toilet, and the big turd trembled. It shifted position, but that was it. This thing wasn't going anywhere. I thought briefly of leaving it behind for someone else to take care of, but it was too late for that. Too late, because before leaving the table, I'd stupidly told everyone where I was going. I'll be back in a minute," I'd said. "I'm just going to run to the bathroom." My whereabouts were public knowledge. I should have said I was going to make a phone call. I'd planned to urinate and maybe run a little water over my face, but now I had this to deal with.
The talk refilled, and I made a silent promise. The deal was that if this thing would go away, I'd repay the world by doing some unexpected act of kindness. I flushed the toilet a second time, and the big turd spun a lazy circle. "Go on," I whispered. "Scoot! Shoo!" I turned away, ready to perform my good deed, but when I looked back down, there it was, bobbing to the surface in a fresh pool of water. Just then someone knocked on the door, and i started to panic...
For some reason, when I got to the phrase 'spun a lazy circle' I became so convulsed by laughter that I flopped over on my side with my arms over my stomach laughing uproariously. My hearty laughter caused me to suddenly emit a gigantic long horse fart, three feet away from the woman I hoped to impress. Laughing even harder now but horrified by what I had done, I got up and ran to the back lounge, past the singer and the damsel who were both looking at me with amazement, as they had no idea what I had found so funny. I burst into the back lounge where the drummer, my best friend in the band, was quietly watching a movie in the dark. "Oh my God, Sam!" I said as I collapsed onto the couch. "I just blew it with that girl!" I told him the story and we had another laugh while I calmed down. I was too embarrassed to show my face up front again, but later, I ventured a peek and they were gone. I slipped a short note of apology into her purse which was sitting on the couch. With my number and email address.
The end of that story was that she wrote me back, I started seeing her, and eventually she moved across the country. I ended up living with her for two years. When people asked us how we met, she took great pleasure in recounting the story. She'd end it usually by saying, "Eh, I grew up with my father and my brother...comes with the territory."

[Brian]

we came from Apes
apes came from monkeys,
monkeys came from bats
bats came from amphibians
amphibians came from fish
fish came from bugs,
bugs came from worms
worms live in poop

[0-it-hz]

Worms & poop are the essential foundation of our ecosystem... No poop/worms = no hamburger.

[alex matson]

Wait. Monkeys came from bats?

[@?,*???&?]

Worst session was just grueling long at 27+ hours straight!

It was the film score to 'Under Siege' the movie. Things were incredibly behind schedule and very last minute. We were getting tapes from Gary Chang's home studio in quick order and on the heels of the reels we were sending out to the soundstage to be mixed in to the film. No breathing room and everything had to happen immediately. Equipment rentals for that session were insane too as the studio was not set for film work.

[Brian]

Sure, why not, except the ones that fly outta my butt, in which case,
monkeys are poop.

[markitzero]

Can't top some of the already posted stories... but I'll contribute.

My first full length, I was tracking, mixing, and mastering. I had no studio at the time, so we rented out a pretty decent project studio. Everything went great for the most part... the drummer, however, was a nightmare.

He wasn't an asshole, or a bad person, or even stupid.... he was just one of those dudes that pisses you off, for no reason at all. And his drumming was ridiculous... every song (female fronted college rock) was just a series of fills amidst what sort of seemed like a rhythm.

And he played in only his boxers. Like, the thinnest boxers known to man. The kind where the fly doesn't ever stay closed? Well, after every take, he would run into the control room, sweating profusely, clad only in boxers, and stand directly next to me (I was sitting) and listened to the take. For hours and hours, I had to dread him coming into the control room and unwittingly thrusting his junk mere inches my face.

The last take of the last song, he ran into the room, and tripped over my mouse cable. The mouse went flying off the desk, hit the wall, and stopped working all together. I completely lost my mind, grabbed the mouse in one hand, and squeezed as hard as possible. The mouse exploded into a thousand shards of plastic all over the control room. I had no idea that was possible until then... I freaked out, yelled at him, and banished him from the control room for the duration of the recording.

The record came out fine for my first attempt, and I still think it was pretty ok. But the lesson here was a very important one: Always call people out on stuff they do that pisses you off, especially in the studio. You work in close quarters with them for long periods of time, and the last thing you need is to build up animosity over the course of recording. Get everything out in the open, and all will be fine.

I'm lucky in that most of my sessions in the past few years have been pretty smooth. Lots of weird drinking/drug stories have come from these, but they've always been fun, and at worst, annoying.

[centurymantra]

I completely lost my mind, grabbed the mouse in one hand, and squeezed as hard as possible. The mouse exploded into a thousand shards of plastic all over the control room. I had no idea that was possible until then...

That is just an awesome image...LMAO at that one over here.

[MoreSpaceEcho]

i've destroyed a mouse like that before. i think this is the scrawny indie rocker version of a frustrated major league ballplayer breaking a bat over their leg.

[cgarges]

Worst session was just grueling long at 27+ hours straight!

It was the film score to 'Under Siege' the movie.

I'd probably feel the same way about having to work on a Steven Segal movie.

Chris Garges
Charlotte, NC

[mingus2112]

The drummer had a steady diet of summer sausage, wonderbread and ez cheese going.

What the hell is "summer sausage?"

[dsw]

http://www.hickoryfarms.com/products~sk ... 100203.asp

probably similar coming out as going in

[chorga1]

Poop story wins!

Don't they always???

[RefD]

http://www.hickoryfarms.com/products~sk ... 100203.asp

probably similar coming out as going in

Over the years, many have tried to copy our signature flavor.

None have succeeded.

that's like the tag line from some bizarre food-orientated horror film.