Jake, Bill, and especially Matt had been vehemently opposed to doing this at first.
"Intemperance is a five-person band," Matt had protested. "You're suggesting we add another rhythm guitar over a song. That's more than five! That's not how we do things!"
"That is how we do things," Acardio told them, "and since you are under contract with us, you will do whatever the hell we tell you to do. If we want you to put a fucking Polka accordion track in one of your songs, you'll do it. If you don't, you're in breach of contract. Get it?"
They got it. They didn't like it, but they got it. They performed the overdubs when they were told to and when they got to the mixing process, everyone except Matt-who remained a stern traditionalist on the subject-had to admit that the overdubs did add quite a bit to the recording, giving it a smoother, more radio-friendly sound.
"We won't be able to reproduce it live though," Matt said. "Don't you guys understand that?"
Jake thought that maybe Matt was overexaggerating a bit. The overdubs were quite audible to professional musicians and sound techs, but most of the people buying the albums and going to the concerts would not fit into this category. Jake himself had never noticed such things in his favorite music before and this had never kept him from enjoying a concert.
In any case, the discussion was meaningless. Acardio was right. They were required to do what they were told.
The mixing process, which went on in conjunction with the overdubbing and the re-dubbing, was the very definition of tediousness. Day after day, for hours at a time, the sound techs would listen to each individual track of each individual song and blend them together piece by piece. Their perfectionism and anal retentiveness about this process was agonizing and made that displayed by Bill during their sound checks seem like hastiness personified in comparison. Only Bill himself found the process anything but boring. He was actually fascinated with it, and would spend as much time with the techs as he could, asking hundreds of questions, listening to hundreds of nuances through the headphones, and learning the very basics of a skill that he would one day be counted among the world's best at.
On October 2, 1982, at long last, the mixing, dubbing, overdubbing, and re-dubbing was finally declared complete and the end result was put on a master tape. Intemperance's first album was recorded and then copied onto another tape. That tape was sent to the manufacturer for production.
"They're going to run off one hundred thousand copies to start with," Shaver told them the following week, as they sat in their bi-monthly meeting with him. As usual, he had treated them to a few lines of his Bolivian flake and a round of Chivas and Coke. "In addition, they're going to run off about thirty thousand singles of Descent Into Nothing. That will be the first track that gets pushed. A few thousand of those copies will go off to radio stations all around the country, mostly in the bigger markets. National's promotion department is already talking to their contacts in the various cities about you guys and they'll start playing Descent even before the album and the singles are released for sale."
"So we'll be on the radio soon?" Matt asked.
"Probably within the next three weeks," Shaver said.
"I can't fuckin' wait to hear us on the radio, dudes," Darren said wistfully. He had helped himself to a double dose of the cocaine and was working on his third Chivas and Coke. "That's gonna be bad-ass."
"Indeed it will," Shaver said. "In any case, the tentative release date for the album and the single is December 7. I suspect its going to do well as long as the radio stations keep up their end of the bargain and give it widespread and frequent airplay. Descent is a catchy tune and people will love it if they get to hear it."
"Yeah," Jake said, a little sourly. He didn't really care for one of his songs-the lyrics and melody of which represented some of his deepest emotions-to be referred to as "a catchy tune".
"When it starts to sell, they'll run off more copies of the album and the original single. They'll also release the next single which will be Who Needs Love?. Long before this happens though, you boys will be going out on tour. We're already starting to talk over the details of that."
"Oh yeah?" Matt asked, his ears perking up. "What do you mean?"
Shaver smiled, taking a sip of his Coke-less Chivas on the rocks. "Well, it just so happens that one of my other clients-Earthstone-is releasing an album mid-November. Acardio and I both believe it would be beneficial for all concerned if you went out on tour as their opening band."
"Earthstone," Matt said in awe. "You mean... The Earthstone. Richie Valentine and Brad Winston. That Earthstone?" Earthstone was a favorite band of all of the Intemperance members. They were solid musicians and good lyricists, hindered only by the fact that many of their tunes were too lengthy for radio airplay.
"Those are my boys," Shaver confirmed. "I discovered that band, you know. Just like I discovered you. This will be their fourth album. We're calling it Losing Proposition. Some damn catchy tunes on this one. I'm hoping this one will be their first platinum cut."
"So, we'll be on the Losing Proposition tour?" Jake asked, wondering if that was prophetic or not.
Shaver laughed. "It's just a name," he said. "You boys like Earthstone? They're great guys. You'll love touring with them. They really know how to party."
NTV Television Studios, Los Angeles
October 25, 1982
The video producer was Norman Rutger. He was fifty years old but, thanks to multiple plastic surgeries on multiple portions of his body, looked an artificial thirty-five. He was a lecherous bisexual who came equally onto any man or woman who crossed his path. He had the habitual sniff of a habitual cocaine user and the trendy dress of a Hollywood insider. And he did not like being questioned, particularly in matters of one of his beloved music videos, which the members of Intemperance were here to film.
"I can't work with these people, Maxie," Rutger cried dramatically to Acardio. "How dare they question my choice of clothing. How dare they question my imagery!"
The band fumed as they watched this overdramatic tantrum. Matt, acting as spokesman, attempted a rare display of diplomacy. "Look, Max," he said, holding up the clothing in question. "We're not trying to be insulting, it's just that we don't wear stuff like this. I mean, leather pants? And red ones at that? We wear jeans on stage. Old, faded jeans and T-shirts. They're comfortable and that's the image we want to project."
"Not anymore you don't," Acardio said without hesitation. "Leather pants are in and that's what you're going to wear, both in the video and out on tour."
"I'm not wearing any fuckin' leather pants on tour!" Darren interjected.
"You'll wear whatever the hell we tell you to wear," Acardio said, glaring at Darren and making him look away. "If we want you dressed in a goddamn tutu with crotchless panties and your dingus hanging out and flapping in the breeze, that's what you'll wear!"
Darren's fists clenched up but he said nothing.
"Look," Jake said, stepping up to the bat. "The clothes are one thing. I suppose we can live with leather pants if we have to. But all this satanic imagery you're putting in this video. What is up with that?"
"It's the theme of the video," Acardio said, rolling his eyes. "Are you so dumb you don't realize that? Satanism sells! Look at Black Sabbath, Ozzy Osbourne, Iron Maiden. We're shooting a video called Descent Into Nothing! A perfect opportunity to inject a Satanist image towards our band. It's not overt of course, we just show you descending further and further towards a dark and flame-ridden place with each scene. What possible problem could you have with that?"