Cats and Dogs

Recently, I had a project requiring some extra tracks. A three-piece horn section was needed, but only one or maybe two players were budgeted. This was a union date; I was filing a contract for this session so the business had to be right on. My multi-reed playing friend was quite willing to play remotely until I told him that I needed three separate parts but could only pay for one. The union scale covers the performance only, but not studio time, which is a little extra to which I believe we’re entitled when we session cats provide the recording venue. After all, it’s our overhead our investment. Why allow our technical savvy to go unrewarded by accepting lower fees, just because we have a cheap and efficient recording modality? Why should the employer reap the benefits of our skill and foresight simply because we work from our own pads? But this time the tables were turned and, for once, I was the dog, the employer in a bind. “What can you do for me?” I asked, a bit presumptuously.

I have seen many cat fights in live sessions over this request. It’s expressly against union regs, but many look the other way on low-budget projects. We compromised. I would pay a “doubling” premium (an extra 50% of scale) and he’d throw in the entire second part (technically a “double track,” not a simple “double;” see www.local802afm.org for more info). No charge for studio time. The savings are passed on to me. Interestingly, for many years, “doubling” has been a widely-accepted solution for keyboard players who handle multiple synth parts in tracking sessions.

That sweet deal wasn’t good enough for me though: I took the alto sax part, cloned and reharmonized it with Melodyne, and created my third line. Now I feel guilty for having created a new part from my bud’s performance, especially after dogging him for the double track and not paying a studio charge. Yet, if I’m honest with myself, part of me expected my old friend to pony up the third part gratis, since I was out of money. A typical indie dilemma. If I’m expecting this from my “friends” what are we to do with regular employers who aren’t even as nice as little old me? Doesn’t the possibility of working remotely and saving studio costs work against the player in the long run? Who benefits if no one pays for the careful expertise of a sideman on the Internet, his expensive mics, padded quiet rooms, DAWs, and Internet access? Does the sideman have to feel totally neutered and do whatever is asked of him just to get and keep the gig?

Now that I think of it, I’m sending Mr. Reedman an extra taste for his efforts.