And on the seventh day they rested...

We've taken a collective break from the studio today - not really because we wanted to, but because it just didn't seem to work based on our schedules. I was back in, laying down vocals on Friday night and doing percussion yesterday. Sarah was very pleased to see that the bongos she got me for my birthday two years ago are finally getting put to good use!

When we've been talking about me doing percussion, Scott has said all along - "hey, you can use my tambourine! It's a 'something something...'" You have to forgive me, my attention span isn't so good, I just got the gist that he had some kind of authentic Brazilian instrument that I'm pretty sure he paid good money for. He had to go pretend he has a job and went to a conference Friday, and left his tambourine in the studio for me. When I got there Friday night to lay down my vocals, I saw the tambourine. It was a beautiful pandeiro, which is great, except that it's not really a tambourine (which he probably told me). It has a head, like many tambourines, which is meant to be tuned, unlike a tambourine. The metal jingles are also much drier. You play a pandeiro by striking the head, and you get a "jangly" tone. Like I said - beautiful instrument, but totally not what I was looking for. I was looking for the plastic, cheapo $20 tambourine, which gives a brighter sound without the tone.

So, I needed to pick up a new tambourine before my Saturday morning session, scheduled to start at 11:00. After being lazy, I wound up not leaving my apartment until 10:15. I jumped in a cab and headed over to Guitar Center on 14th street, all of my other gear in tow (bongos, cowbell and mandolin - which I didn't wind up playing). There was a small Asian woman checking bags at the front door. I handed her mine, and the neck of the mandolin was poking out from the bag, and she asked me "what is that?" I replied that it was a mandolin, at which point her eyes widen and her face brightens - "That's my name! Mandolin!" I'm still not sure if she was on the up and up, it could be her line to pick up musicians. Her name very well could have been "Trombone" for the next guy that came through the door - but I'll never know.

In any event, I bought my cheapo tambourine and a really cool shaker and headed to the L on 6th Ave. I was so early, I was able to stop at a deli in Williamsburg and pick up some Diet Dr Pepper, a bottle of water and some salt and vinegar kettle cooked chips. It was delightful!

So here I was with my cheapo tambourine (in the imfamous phone booth that Scott and Jim have been stuck in for hours on end, ensuring that their angelic voices are as heartbreakingly beautiful on the record as they are in person) ready to shake it like a Polaroid picture. It took about five minutes before my right arm - the tambourine shaking arm - was cramping and I was weeping like a small child whose lollipop has fallen to the floor. I took a quick break and was ready to go again. It took about two minutes before my left hand - the tambourine striking hand - was sore and I was weeping again, but this time as if the small child had picked their lollipop up off the floor, put it back into their mouth only to realize that they now had a mouth full of cherry-flavored dirt, dust and rat droppings. Maybe the rat droppings part was over the top, but in any event, my hand was angry, red and wanted nothing else to do with my cheapo tambourine.

At the end of the session, it seemed like it was all worth it and the percussion sounded great. A day later, my shaking arm and striking hand are completely recovered, and I have a new respect for tambourine players around the world. Yesterday was probably my last day in the studio, so it's all up to Scott, Jim, Jason and Carl at this point. Good luck gents, looking forward to hearing the first rough mixes!

-D