Pastor D's studio

Background:

This is the latest installment in what has become a rather rollicking escapade . It begins a few weeks ago with a chance meeting with Richard (aka Big Rich) whilst I was walking down a busy street. He approached me, primarily because I was the only white person around, and began to tell me about how he is a musician and concluding that he is looking for a sponsor. Initially trying to keep walking and shake him off, I remembered an American women who’d I’d met since being here who does exactly that- supports local musicians. So I agreed to give her a copy of his CD and see what happened from there. Never that simple.

So this episode is a few weeks later, and I decided it was too fun not to write about. I find myself here, after 3 unsuccessful, yet interesting, visits to the recording studio/ pastor’s office/ simple tiled 2 room house to pick up the demo CD, still without any CD to show for it, but perhaps a bit of a story...

Characters:

Richard/ Big Rich: husky voiced (he says from drinking too much beer, I can believe it), probably middle aged, sinewy build, usually attired in pseudo-Rasta garb, good-natured guitar player, an interesting guy, favourite adjective is “massive.”

David (new character): the wonky toothed, more placid, younger brother and something of a trusty side-kick to Richard

Pastor D: the young female pastor at this church/recording studio

Pastor X (I just don’t know his name): fairly smooth and charming, somewhat serious, more into the recording studio side from what I can tell

Rachel: wide-eyed, honest, not sure what she actually does at the recording studio/ pastor’s office/ simple tiled 2 room house?

I get two calls from Richard: the first is in the morning, telling me to pick him up at Friday’s Corner at 9 hundred hours. “No, I am busy,” I say. “I can do this afternoon at 5.”

“Okey, okey,” he says, in the rushed clipped tone of someone who is on the brink of running out of scarce air time yet still wanting to be polite. 

The second is at 4:30pm. “I’m at Friday’s Corner, come and fetch me.”

“Ok,” I say, not liking being rushed, “I’ll come in 15 minutes.”

“Okey okey,” he says, “please hurry.”

So ten minutes later, I pull up to Friday’s corner (a small shop, bus stop and popular bar), and spot the red black and green of Richard’s beanie. He is clutching a beer bottle in one hand and his guitar in the other, waving me over (with the beer hand). Trailing behind is dreadlocked brother David, who I am to meet for the first time. I have my suspicions that Richard has not left Friday’s Corner since the time of phonecall number one. We drive the few blocks to the music studio whilst Richard tells me about his musical family, they all play music and Dave and him are going to be “massive.”

As we approach the studio, Richard starts to worry about getting rid of his beer bottle as there will be a pastor there. I suggest there may be a bin once we get through the gates, before we reach the studio, “Okey, okey,” and he unceremoniously tosses the beer bottle out the car window into the gutter, as I turn in the driveway to enter the gate.

We park and enter the studio. I recognise the two young pastors, but not the young woman sitting on the couch. A Zambian woman, she is dressed in a simple black knee length dress and those kind of woven, strappy sandles that you used to wear when you went for walks or to the beach as a kid (the kinds that have rubber soles and alternately dolphins on the straps or a kind of paisley-esque pattern). Unusual. I like her. She is secretary-like, or PR. She is talking on her phone headset about Pastor D so we do not immediately meet. On the wall there are two framed photographs, one of "His Excellency, President Michael C. Sata" and the other of the senior pastor of the church.

We sit down and the pastors say they need to have a meeting with Richard. After some confusion as to whether or not I need to stay for this, it is decided I do and that they will have the meeting outside. Richard, anxious that I might leave or get annoyed, thrusts the guitar into David’s hands and hastily commissions him to entertain me with a song. “Okey, okey, just stay for a few minutes. We will discuss quickly and then we can go.” 

“Ok I agree,” resigned to the fact that these things take time and enjoying the drama, I sit back on the couch. I’m looking forward to the talents of David, reminded of the last time we came here and the ride back in the car during which Richard played songs for us to sing along.

Once Big Rich and the pastors have left the room, Rachel has returned and we chat a bit. She has the kind of huge, earnest eyes that widen every time she says something she really means (apparently often). Dave, strumming a tune, asks her if she can sing and she, unhesitant, starts a simple tune that he follows with a few strums on the guitar. Gradually developing into the most beautiful gospel song I have ever heard: just a single clear voice and the simple complimentary notes floating off the guitar, supporting the vocals from underneath. On the next song I feel I must contribute and tap out a simple beat on the arm of the couch.
I’m not very musical.
Then Rachel asks if I can sing.

“No,” I answer.

She say, “why not?”

 I say, “well I mean, I can sing, I like to sing but I’m pretty bad.”

“ Who says?”

“All my friends. And you know that’s true coming from friends...”

“You can do anything you want if you really want to, there will always be people who will criticize you but you can achieve it if you are really determined.”
Not sure what to say to this, I nod in agreement.
“And I’m sure you will one day be the best of singers, I have no doubt about it.”

Hmm, she really hasn’t heard me sing. Nevertheless, David asks if I know Enrique Iglesias’ ‘Hero’ and I say of course, so he strums the opening chords and I, somewhat hesitantly, begin with “Would you dance, if I asked you to dance?....”
We sing it through and Rachel joins in. Then, the beginning to Bob Marley’s “Jammin’ ” follows but is interrupted by the return of the three from their meeting on the verandah.

Pastor D smiles officially, as if business has been taken care of to her satisfaction, and thanks us each individually for being there today. Richard takes the CDs from her and says we can go. I ask if everything has been resolved and get some kind of unclear answer containing the words “disagreement,” “conflict of views,” and similar. But the finality of the serene smile on Pastor D’s face ushers us out the door before I think to get a fuller story.

In the car, Richard tells me to switch off the car, he wants to explain to me. I leave it to idle, feeling defiant, as he begins telling me his slightly slurred version of the preceeding meeting, and the “obstacle to his music.” The gist of his side of the story is that a while back, he did all the music for a recording of an album for which the head pastor did the vocals. I didn’t follow the whole thing but the long and the short is that they think he owes them money for CDs that were distributed and he says he does not because it is his music. This is, according to him, the reason that there has been difficulty getting the music from the studio. It seems there was some arrangement made about paying back the rest of the money before he could retrieve his data disk (with his recording on). As we head back towards Friday’s Corner Richard states adamantly: “I don’t want no-one telling me it’s his music. It’s my music and it’s massive.” I drop them off at Friday’s corner, after refusing repeated invites to come in and meet people. I say next time, I’m in a rush but it’s mainly because I’m tired and don’t feel like being a spectacle today.

It took me until the drive home to realise that I’m not even sure if the CDs we got today have any of his music on... Upon my return home, I check them on the stereo to find some other recording of a female pop vocalist.

?

So the quest continues, I hope that in the next instalment I’ll be able to tell you that I have successfully acquired Richard’s demo tape, but clearly I can’t make any more promises.