Three musicians, Alex, Georgia, and Ty, traveled from Guelph to Montreal, hoping to record the album they\u2019d been imagining for years. They had songs. They had time. They almost had money. What they didn\u2019t have was a producer. They met a few. One wore sunglasses indoors and said, \u201cI can make you sound relevant.\u201d Another said compression was a form of emotional repression. A third said, \u201cI\u2019ll find your sound,\u201d and played them a sample of auto-tuned wolves. Still uncertain, they asked Dale Morningstar, the leader of the band “Dinner is Ruined” who recorded his friend Gord Downie’s still unreleased final record. \u201cWe want someone who hears us,\u201d Georgia said. \u201cWe want someone who doesn\u2019t ruin it,\u201d said Ty. Dale nodded and handed them a pinecone. \u201cLet the pinecone choose,\u201d he said. They stared at the pinecone. Alex asked, \u201cIs this a metaphor?\u201d Dale shrugged. \u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They left in silence uncertain what to make of him, though they played one of his albums a couple times that had an intriguing song with the chorus “my retina’s burning, retina’s burning.” For three days, the pinecone sat on their dashboard. They argued about tone, direction, warmth, truth, reverb. The pinecone stayed silent. On the fourth day, Georgia knocked it out the window by accident while reaching for gum. They watched it roll into a ditch and land beside a crow. Ty said, \u201cWell, that settles that.\u201d Alex said, \u201cSettles what?\u201d Georgia smiled. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter who produces it. What matters is we started listening.\u201d That night, they recorded a demo using one mic, one take, and no effects. It was their best work so far. The pinecone, for its part, asked for no royalties.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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