Different Circles

“You gotta respect that, I guess,” Jake said.

“The fuckin’ show must go on,” G said.

They were led up onto the stage they would be performing on in twelve more hours. Their crew was already there, as were their instruments and equipment. Ted’s drum set was assembled and resting on its wheeled platform, all of the microphones positioned as they were in the rehearsal studio. Jake had three guitars, his Fender acoustic/electric, his black and white Les Paul tuned to standard, and his sunburst Les Paul tuned to drop-D. Lenny had four guitars, two Brogans, a Telecaster, and a Marshall acoustic. Ben had his Brogan bass. Natalie had her performance violin. G had a Marshall synthesizer with a dedicated electric piano keyboard. Pauline and Phil had dedicated microphones just to the left of the drum platform. And G had a microphone mounted at face level on his keyboard.

“I need your sax, Mrs. Kingsley,” said Jeff Parley, the man Jake had put in charge of the crew. “We need to get it miked.”

“Here you go,” she said, handing the case over. “And please, call me Laura or Teach.”

“You got it, Laura,” he said.

“Is everything wired into the Lux?” asked Sharon, referring to the Luxembourg 970 audio recorder that KVA Records had purchased for thirty-eight thousand dollars just for this occasion. It would sit at the head of the stage and all of their output cables would feed into it, recording everything they played on sixteen separate tracks on two separate and redundant digital drives and one analog backup that used magnetic tape. The output would then pass through the Lux and emerge unaltered out the other side for its trip to the primary soundboard out on the amphitheater floor. This way, KVA would have an exclusive digital recording of the band’s performance to do with as they pleased.

“We’re wired for sound ... literally,” Jeff told her.

“All right,” Jake said. “Let’s get this done. We don’t have much time.”

They made it, but just barely. They plugged in and played each instrument one by one, with Nerdly directing the volume and tone adjustments while Sharon made notes on the settings and offered the occasional suggestion. They then checked each microphone, blending them according to what they were transmitting and adjusting based on the output level of Lenny’s and Jake’s guitars. Last came Ted’s drums. He pounded each one individually and then played out some brief solos to make sure the mix was right. He then played simultaneously with Ben on the bass and Lenny on the lead guitar. Just as they got this at an acceptable level, their time was up.

“I am far from pleased with our final arrangement,” Nerdly said, “but I guess it will have to do.”

“It sounded good, Nerdly,” Jake assured him. “You did the best you could in the time you had.”

“I suppose,” he replied morosely. “I only hope the recordings we make will be usable in the studio.”

“They can be tweaked around even further in the studio,” Jake said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you and Sharon for twenty-five minutes over any of these other sound teams for three hours. We got this.”

“I suppose,” he said again.

They marked all the instruments and dials with the proper settings and then Nerdly made a hard copy of all the levels for the soundboard. The crew began the task of clearing the stage of equipment so the second band to play—it would be Seavey Circle—would be able to set up their equipment just before the show started. Ted’s drums were wheeled down a ramp to a covered staging area just offstage. All of the guitars, other instruments, microphones, microphone stands, amplifiers, effects pedals, and the Lux joined them. Two armed guards were assigned to stand watch over the area to keep anyone from stealing more than two hundred thousand dollars worth of equipment.

It was as they were walking back to the trailer that another guitar riff suddenly filled the air from the direction of Stage 1. Jake recognized the style and sound immediately. It was Matt Tisdale. He was starting his own sound check. The group made it back into their trailer before Jake had to listen to too much of it.

The festival started exactly on time, with the first band—Backyard Dirt—laying down its opening number at exactly 12:00 PM. Everyone in Jake’s group had the ability to enter a special VIP area just in front of and between the two stages if they wished. This was an area that was separate from the official VIP area just in front of the soundboard where special guests and those who possessed the five-hundred-dollar tickets could sit in a shaded area with cocktail and food service (two of the people in this section had bought their tickets at an online auction website from Matt’s tax lawyer for fifteen hundred dollars apiece). Ben, Ted, Lenny, Phil, and Natalie all went to this section to watch the show. Jake did not have to warn them to avoid alcohol or any other intoxicant. They knew his rules very well.