Wellsyuk wrote: Mon May 13, 2024 9:25 am God it's going to be so surreal listening to Shellac's last album, presuming it will be released still.

penningtron wrote: Mon May 13, 2024 9:35 am

Wellsyuk wrote: Mon May 13, 2024 9:25 am God it's going to be so surreal listening to Shellac's last album, presuming it will be released still.

To All Trains copies have been shipping out over the last week. I didn't pre-order but several friends received theirs. Shellac records are always delayed to a comic degree though, I'm sure the bulk of this album was 'done' 2-4 years ago.

Perhaps there's more stuff in the vault. I have no idea how that might be handled. I too feel for Bob and Todd losing their dear friend and bandmate of over 30 years.

Thatguyfromthething wrote: Mon May 13, 2024 10:19 amThe music and the man left a deep impact on me. I don’t claim to have known him in any meaningful beyond that and a few times we met, but I think when you’re a creative person in whatever discipline, you do form a strong bond to those who inspire you. When they leave this planet, with them goes all that knowledge and talent and work still left to do. Steve wasn’t done. But, if we’re to take solace in what he said about John Grabski III, that’s how he wanted it when his time came.

In the very early 00’s, I wrote Steve Albini an email inquiring about his availability.

We were gearing up to record our third studio Album (our second with Dave Crider's Estrus Records), and, as a big fan of Big Black, I wanted to see if Steve would record it.

We ran the idea past Dave, and Dave said, “Go for it.”

At the time, Steve had a pretty serious reputation, and as a result, I had several folks in the Seattle area try to talk me out of it.

One went so far as to say Steve was especially hard on vocalists and would make me cry. (Seriously, someone said this)

Regardless, I contacted him. He wrote back, and we got on the phone.

On the call, I told him another thing I’d heard: that he was booked six months in advance, which he laughed at. (also not true, apparently)

We talked a minute or two more, and then I asked about the rate, something I should have done first.

When he told me what it was, I immediately apologized for wasting his time. Although totally reasonable, it wasn't something we could afford.

To which he said, “Hold on. By what you told me, you can afford two days.” “Yeah,” I said, “But we can’t do it in two days.” (We had been in the habit of recording records in 4 to 5 days)

Then he said something for which I will always be thankful and impressed.

He said, “OK, so if you’re a big name with a big budget, my day rate includes 8 hours; if you’re a small band with a small budget, my day rate is good for 24 hours.”

You’re shitting me. What a mensch.

So that’s what we did. We recorded 38 hours inside 48 with a 10-hour break in the middle, during which he made us dinner, of all things.

Earlier that “day,” he had turned from the board to the small couch where we were sitting behind him.

He was in the habit of doing this to practice his in-progress comedy bits on us.

Whenever he did, he’d get this look on his face, like a kind of wry smile, and you knew what was coming. lol

After one of these failed attempts (the bits were not that funny, lol), he noticed that in addition to not laughing at his jokes, other than nervously, we were eating beans out of a can, which we did a lot back then.

He paused and said, “I’m gonna make you guys dinner tonight.”

Shortly after we arrived, he received a package of beef from his parents in Montana.

When it arrived, he was so excited because it meant he could drop the dry ice it was packed in in the toilet, which he did. This caused a fog-like substance to spill out of the toilet and onto the floor, which he found hilarious.

Later that night, we ate seared grass-fed beef in a dill aioli sauce, which Steve made himself.

When we got to the end of the session, we were still a couple bucks short, and being the band's resident authoritarian, I was kinda freaking out.

Steve said, “Do you have any songs left?” I said yeah. “Well,” he said, “call around to the labels you know and offer them the songs as a single, and I’ll record it.”

There wasn’t time, of course, but he just said we’d make time.

So I called Josh Vanek at Wantage Records and offered him the “songs”—only one song—for the amount we needed to settle the bill.

The problem was the song was 6 plus minutes long and would not fit on a 7” record.

Steve also had an idea for that. He said, “Remember the old James Brown singles? They just fade out on one side and fade back in on the other. That’s what we’ll do.”

Another problem solved by Steve.

At the end of the session, we bought Steve a cake with “We hate you” written on it in icing, which he loved and grinned ear to ear upon receiving.

That was it; I never saw Steve again.

Now, as a nearly 48-year-old man, the thing that stands out to me about all of this is that Steve had absolutely no reason to do any of this for a band he didn’t know and had never heard of.

No reason except for his principles.

That’s the kinda guy he was.

So these are some of my memories from that week; there are others, little snapshots of a truly unique voice in American music, which I will keep for myself.

Bill.