There is a ghost in the machine. Flying faders rise and fall on the sound board, and we take it all for granted on the other end. We hear the song as a whole in whatever format we listen, but how often do we get to hear the story of how many Bothans died to bring us this song? I saw a werewolf drinking water on stage to clear his throat between anecdotes. And his hair was perfect. Actually, he was bald. And he was just a dude, but he was savage, and he slayed his audience.
Think geeking out is restricted to comics, gaming, movies, and books? Think again. Add music to that list, nerds. I was recently a fortunate guest at a performance called The Session at Live House in Hollywood. Christian Hand hosted a Halloween Special in which he broke down two classics you’re bound to find on every Halloween playlist: Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.”
Sure, we go to Halloween parties, imbibing with friends and strangers behind masks and cosplay. We hoot and holler while arguing over black licorice and candy corn. We slam to glam goth Marilyn Manson songs, pretending we’re still angsty and rebellious; but then we sing along to “The Monster Mash” because this is our time. This is our place. It’s okay to have a good time. There are two songs that play at those parties that will win you a Name That Tune contest in the first few notes every time. Christian Hand knows it, and he had his audience eating up these two songs for almost two hours!
How do you take two tunes that don’t last ten minutes back to back and make a show about them that will keep the audience’s attention? Deconstructing these masterpieces is no easy task. First, you acquire the separated tracks and label them so you can isolate every detail. Then you gather some background about the artists, their producers, and throw in a few photos; and voilà! You have a show! Easy, right? No, silly. You need a music geek with decades of knowledge and ability. You need someone who understands music and knows what each instrument is used for. You need a person who’s so passionate about music and musicians that he can point out typos in liner notes that haven’t been printed in forty years.
Hand chills on a black stage behind a Gibraltar desk with his MacBook as a smoke machine billows out ambience. His monitor is displayed on the screen behind him, and he tells us stories about these songs that were recorded in the seventies and eighties. You practically believe he was there in the recording studio. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one responsible for convincing Michael Jackson to howl for the recording of “Thriller” because, after all, Warren Zevon did his own howling for “Werewolves of London.”
We listen to separated base lines and beats a few seconds at a time while our host comedically channels the personalities in the room. He lazily pokes at piano keys or strums the same few notes over and over with an imaginary cigarette hanging from his mouth. He invites us to witness the seemingly mundane plays of bored musicians and producers who are dressed more for chopping wood than tinkering with tracks that would eventually grab the attention of the masses as top 40 hits.
Scrolling through the miles of tracks it took to make these songs whole we are privy to the genius that was necessary to build these completed orchestrations without computers. You’re guided through decades of influences and legends. You get a history lesson while you’re being entertained. You hear about all the key players behind the scenes. You’re left wanting more because it’s like you’re at that party I mentioned earlier. It’s 3:00 AM, and you’re hanging out with the closers. You’re sipping water because you’re not sure how you’re not drunk anymore, but you’re sure you’ll wake up at noon with a hangover anyway.
There’s one guy in the room who’s got everyone transfixed. He’s got control of the music, and he keeps stopping it to point out this detail you never heard before. Everyone in the room is amazed because they’ve heard the song a thousand times and never noticed “that thing” that happens. And that other thing… and, wait… after the Clearmountain pause… there’s this other thing you probably never fucking noticed. Hear it? You need to listen to that song one more time. Christian Hand will show you how. And no one’s gonna save you from the beast about to strike.
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