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June 4, 2008

Imperfect Pitch

Earlier today, we all pitched concepts to Dean Charleston. He told us that he’d take the best ideas to the board at Mildew, but he was less than receptive to our ideas. Because we couldn’t agree on any one concept as a group, I decided last week that we should each take our individual pet projects and pitch them separately. Here’s how it broke down:

• I pitched a bunch of recent songs we’ve written, like “Meth Amp City” and a kind of hip-hop/R&B sound I’ve been experimenting with since Girth McDürchstein’s ‘The Return’ for a song about craving black cocks. I just pitched 13 polished gems of rock bliss, along the lines of our most commercial successful effort (Backseat Delightlah!, 1998), and Dean Charleston shot the whole idea down with a hand-wave—he doesn’t want songs. He wants a concept album that will live up to the artistry we very nearly achieved on our uncompleted masterpiece You Can Touch It for a Quarter. Keeping that in mind… I had nothing, so I turned the floor over to Margo.
• Margo’s idea is about a sassy, brassy exotic dancer who struggles against adversity to marry a prominent heavy metal star. Dean Charleston, turned around, placed his hands in his lap, and started making strange arm movements as Margo described the idea. At the end, he asked her to sing a little bit—since the idea is about a woman, he correctly assumed I wouldn’t be singing the lead vocals on (m)any of the songs. Margo gave a demonstration of her honking, Brooklyn-cum-N’Orleans vocal stylings. It lasted maybe 15 seconds before Charleston, scowling, whirled around and made her stop as he tucked in his shirt-tails.
• Little Riffs Nicky tossed out an idea about a teenage Lothario, raised from infancy in a brothel, who spends his life seducing and murdering rich women. The moment he compared it to Sweeney Todd, Charleston looked around the room and said, “What else you got?”
• Mikey stepped up, insisting he had a “good one.” Mikey Parker’s Jazz Destructor, a solo album he’s been promising since he got fired from the band two years ago, could be converted into a full-scale Abysmal Crucifix affair. Instead, we’d merely call it Metal Destructor and give it our usual hard-edged, guitar-driven sound. Unfortunately, when Charleston asked Mikey to give an example of what these songs were about, every single one involved the everyday problems associated with forklift operators. Although Charleston admired getting in touch with the blue-collar mindset, he thought an album about working such a pointless job would drive too many fans to suicide. Mikey agreed.
• Finally, Carl called back to “Meth Amp City” and suggested expanding it to a full concept album, detailing the harrowing meth addiction that is plaguing many parts of this country. He described a hopeful album where we could show, in song, how far a person can fall, and then, in the second half of the album, build that person back up, and the album as a whole could serve as a metaphor for addiction and recovery.

Dean Charleston leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin. He said, “It’s all shit. You kids should be ashamed.”

“Aren’t you younger than we are?” Carl asked.

“Maybe in years,” Charleston said. “But, come on… Albums about teen sex and recovery from addiction? What are we, fifth-graders?”

“But—” I started.

“This is terrible,” Dean Charleston sighed. “I can’t take any of this shit to the board. Look, I’ll give you another week. Maybe…” He opened up his calendar. “Six days. We’ll meet on Tuesday, same time. You give me a really good idea, one I can take to the board, one we can market and get the ball rolling on. You’ll have a deal. Okay?”

We all looked at each other with uncertainty, then filed out of the office.

Written by Girth McDürchstein on June 4, 2008 11:14 AM
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