Page 27 of Escape to the Country

Tom looked out behind him. The lawn was vast and overgrown, already up to almost knee-height. It desperately needed cutting.

The path was pretty uneven and Tom was careful not to catch one of his crutches on a tree root.

‘We’ll have to get this sorted if we’re going to be taking a lot of people down here,’ muttered Sam, mainly to himself.

‘You’re expecting visitors to the vegetable patch?’ asked Tom.

Sam grinned. ‘To the recording studio,’ he said, pointing at a large barn in the near distance. ‘This was my brainwave. We need all the money we can get, so I was hoping to rent it out to my artists instead of the expensive studios in London. Hopefully it’ll help keep me down here more often and maybe the grounds and house will provide a bit of inspiration for everyone as well.’

That was the thing about having a good manager, thought Tom. Sam was well organised and that left Tom able to focus on exactly what he wanted. The music.

He felt the jolt of guilt once more that the music, for once, wasn’t coming. That it felt more like a burden than a gift. He had been forcing songs out, but they were pretty terrible. They would probably be hits anyway thanks to his name, but he knew deep down that they were awful. The problem was that they weren’t coming from the heart. But for now his heart wasn’t telling him what it wanted. He was afraid that it might never do so again. That perhaps he had used up all inspiration and that there was nothing left.

To take his mind off his worries, he asked, ‘What was this place before you resurrected it?’ as they drew near a large barn which still had a full skip of builders’ rubbish outside.

‘The cowshed,’ said Sam with a sheepish grin. ‘But I think we’ve finally got rid of the smell.’

He pushed open the door and they went inside. The large empty space inside the barn had actually been divided into two. The first area was the control room containing the digital equipment required for recording, editing and mixing the music. Through a window Tom could see the second room, the actual studio. This had obviously been soundproofed and set up to maximise the quality of the recording. It was mainly empty, apart from a couple of chairs and extensive microphones.

‘I’m impressed,’ he said, nodding.

‘There was so much hassle in London over recording studios that it’s nice to get things simple again. As it happens, we were lucky enough to have Dan Fraser live in the next county. He’s one of the best sound engineers I’ve ever come across. We’ve got all the latest equipment.’

Tom looked down at the recording deck. To him it looked like some kind of Star Trek control desk, a vast array of switches and levers.

‘It’s mainly a project studio,’ carried on Sam. ‘I just wanted some place where you could all come out and chill. There’s so much pressure in hiring a studio. Here there’s no time limits, no constraints. Get relaxed and the music will be quality stuff.’

Tom blew out a silent sigh. His last album had been a massive, professional affair. Lots of edits and songs fiddled with. Not much quality, in his opinion. This time he wanted to strip the music down to the bare minimum. Just him, his guitar and a piano to start with. The guitar that he hadn’t even picked up in weeks.

Sam had privately agreed that his previous album had been overproduced and had agreed that back to basics was the way forward for his artist.

Tom was hoping that the new recording studio would be the start of a different direction. He just hoped he could think up some new songs to use it.