CHAPTER SEVEN
On Friday night, Bobby had his first session. He was to record six tracks for his first album, Hi! I’m Bobby Dreamland. He sat on a wooden stool in front of a stand filled with sheet music. On the other side of the glass were Mitchell, Stronzo, Fulsome, and the engineer. (At everyone’s request, Bobby’s parents did not attend the session.)
Mitchell said, “All right, this is ‘Stepping in a Pile of Love,’ Take One.”
The engineer ran the pre-recorded backing track. Several young female voices cooed, “Stepping in a pile of love, yeah, yeah, stepping in a pile of love.”
Bobby bellowed, “I was walking on the asphalt one fine day/When a pretty little girl chanced to walk my way/I felt something on my shoe and lord, above/I was stepping in a pile of love, oh yeah, stepping in a pile of love.”
Mitchell buried his face in his hands. “I’m going to fucking puke.”
The engineer patted his shoulder. “It’s OK, man. If we stick together, we’ll both get through this ordeal.”
Stronzo said, “How many takes should we do?”
“At least a dozen,” Fulsome replied. “We’ll need that many to stitch together a good master.”
The engineer nudged Mitchell and whispered, “Frankensong.”
The producer tried not to laugh.
On Saturday afternoon, Bobby laid down the final six tracks. Mitchell and the engineer spent the rest of the weekend mastering the album. They even assembled a joke track on which they sped up and slowed down Bobby’s voice and bathed it in echo. It sounded like the drug-induced album rock that FM radio played.
On Monday morning, Stronzo played the master for Lloyd Rancor, who gave it his reticent approval with another, “I hope I don’t get fucked again.” By Tuesday, Cloaca had printed up thousands of white-labeled promotional copies. Stronzo and Fulsome each grabbed an armload and brought them to radio stations all over the city.
Fulsome’s first stop was WANK, New York’s hottest top forty station, where program director Happy Harry hosted his morning show. When Fulsome knocked on the control-room window, Harry waved him inside.
“What cha got for me, Clark?”
Fulsome handed him the LP, a wad of hundred-dollar bills, and a packet of cocaine.
“Plug tune?”
“Side one, track three.”
“You got it, buddy!”
When the commercials ended, Harry read the weather forecast and said, “All right, kids. Now’s your chance to make or break a new record. This is the new song by Bobby Dreamland, ‘Take Good Care Of My Baby.’ Ring me up and tell me what you think.” He gave the phone number and hit the song.
As Harry listened to Bobby’s modulated warbling, he gave Fulsome the thumbs-up sign. “This is so fucking bad, it’s just gotta go top ten.”
The phone rang. Harry grabbed it and said, “WANK.”
An eleven-year-old girl shrieked, “That’s gonna be a big, big hit! Where can I get it?”
“We’re going to tell you that shortly, so stay tuned, OK?”
Twenty-three callers, all girls between eight and fourteen, agreed that Bobby’s record was a hit. One dissenting call came from a young man who said, “They ought to yank your fucking license for playing that shit.”
Harry put Fulsome on the guest mike. “Well, kids, most of you think Bobby Dreamland is going to be big. And ol’ Happy Harry’s got a surprise for you. Clark Fulsome of Cloaca Records, Bobby’s record label, is right here with me. Clark, once again, welcome to the Happy Harry Show.”
“As always, thanks for having me on.”
“Looks like you’ve got a smash on your hands, buddy. How does it feel?”
“It feels great! Of course, I’m not surprised that your listeners liked the record. Cloaca believed in Bobby right from the start.”
“So, how did you find him?”
Fulsome feigned modesty. “Actually, I didn’t find him. Bobby was seen at a high school talent show by no less than Dominic Stronzo, who brought him right to Cloaca. And I don’t mind telling you, Harry — the boy knocked us out! We signed him on the spot.”
“How long did it take you to make the album?”
“Several weeks and thousands of man-hours. We wanted Bobby to sound just right; but if the calls you just took are any indication, the sweat and toil was worth it.”
“And now the question the kids really want me to ask you: where do we get Bobby’s record?”
“It’ll be in all the major stores on Friday. Remember, kids, it’s called Hi! I’m Bobby Dreamland, and it’s on Cloaca Records exclusively.”