CHAPTER FOURTEENMETRO GNOME
The week after New Year’s, thanks to Pete, the band found itself in a professional recording studio in New Orleans. The place was awe-inspiring. The control room had a twenty-four channel mixing board surrounded by amplifiers and sound processing machines with blinking lights, a two-inch, reel-to-reel tape machine, monitor speakers and more electronic gear than anyone in the band had ever seen. Looking through the glass wall in front of the control room, they could see into a large performance area with a piano and at least ten microphones on stands with cords coiled like snakes on the floor. Off to the side of the main staging area were soundproof booths for drums and vocals. Once again, Pete was missing in action.
A pale-faced, thirty-year-old hippie in blue
