I can hardly believe that I’ve spent six 13 hour days in the studio so far this week. Probably because all I can remember doing is sitting in my cozy little isolation booth, singing and playing into two expensive microphones, staring through the thick glass at Bob Glaub and Joey Waronker in the big room, and Ross Hogarth overseeing it all from the control room. Cameron is in a booth next to me, but we can’t see each other. We all wear headphones and communicate very effectively through them. In fact it’s a feeling much more intimate than a stage. It feels sort of like being in a cockpit, with your squadron around you. I guess that makes me Goose. Cameron’s gotta be Maverick. Or maybe he’d be Kenny Loggins.

I will say it feels like the ‘big time’ being here. We are working with SERIOUS record makers. Guys who are really freakin good at what they do. And right now they are trying to make our record really good. Getting to work with them makes me feel big for a second, but then I remember that next to them, I am but a little shivering hatchling, with pieces of my own shell in my hair.

Other reasons it feels like the big time:
*There is a gate that opens when we drive up and say our name. And I think that one time it even scanned Cameron’s retina.

*The studio has a runner, who will help with anything we need (get food, goto the post office, etc).

*Everyday is like Groundhog Day, and the kitchen is restocked with food and drinks, and my little recording booth has fresh bottles of water in it sitting in the exact same place.

*I get a headache every time we play Tony Hawk in the lounge because the screen is so big.

*Hootie recorded here