Rock and Roll stories
There is a wonderful tale evolving at
ProSoundWeb
Six parts so far -
#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6
The narrator is a major recording engineer working on a large album project.
The names are fake but the stories are so so true...
Here is a taste from Episode Six:
bq. Harmon’s whiny voice is so piercing and so brutally annoying that sometimes I consider purchasing a chalkboard on which I could scrape my nails in order to drown out the sound of his voice. It’s that bad. Because of his unusually irritating voice, he has the unique capability of winning arguments with little to no resistance. The repelling nature of his voice was the antithesis of a Siren. In fact, I would like very much to see a battle between a Siren and Harmon Neenot, as I’m sure that he would emerge victorious.
bq. Along with his annoying voice, Harmon has some atrocious manners. He farts constantly, which unfortunately, is his least egregious offense on good etiquette. I absolutely refuse to ever shake his hand as he constantly picks his butt, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, he will invariably smell his picking finger. If his hand isn’t somewhere near his ass, then one can usually find it planted firmly in the waistband of his pants, much like the character Al Bundy from the Married With Children TV show. He is so much a caricature of disgusting habits that one can’t help but focus on the humor of such blatant displays of grossness. Still, Harmon’s idiosyncrasies (OK, I’m being kind here, savor the sensitive moment) are relatively harmless, as long as you don’t touch him and as long as you’re not a woman. It’s the women that should avoid him like the plague, as proven by how he treats his girlfriend.
bq. Harmon derives great pleasure from putting down his girlfriend. He calls her trailer trash to her face, which to me is the epitome of the pot calling the kettle black. In his defense, however, I must say she IS trailer trash. I wouldn’t admit that to him though, as I could only imagine that might further encourage such statements. When she’d call him on his cell phone, he’d yell at her, calling her a bitch and telling her that he was busy. He would then proceed to tell her that she should know better than to call him when he’s busy. How does someone know that you’re busy when they’re calling you on the phone? And why would you answer the cell phone if you’re busy? But I didn’t dare ask him that for fear that I might have to listen to a 10-minute explanation of how she’s just a fucking whore and needs to be kept in her place. Just the thought of having to listen to him talk for that length of time is too much for me to bear.
bq. Strangely, despite Harmon’s bad manners and poor behavior toward women, which I could easily chalk up to the results of poor upbringing; despite vocal chords that could rip through steel, which I couldn’t really hold him accountable for as that is the work of nature; yes, despite his many shortcomings Harmon was the member of the band I could tolerate the most. As much as it pains me to say this, all things being relative, he is without a doubt my favorite member of the band.
Used to live in Boston and was doing sound for various groups as well as gigging a bit (keyboards). I know Harmon - did sound for him... Not the person in this story but one just like him. Don't do sound anymore.
Posted by DaveH at December 2, 2004 10:55 PM