With a little David Bowie, James Brown, Talking Heads, Beck, Steve Miller Band, and a pinch of Dr. Dre sprinkled throughout, "Neptina" is undoubtedly the funkiest song I will ever compose. The demo version dates all the way back to 2004 and it sat around for 8 years before I seriously took it on. But once my first Elvis Orbison album "Invisible Me" was put to bed, I went back in the vaults to see what I could use to help build out my forthcoming second LP "From The Hip To The Heart" and there it was, just as I had left it, replete with a few guitar licks and a one-take scratch vocal of unintelligible white soul gibberish.

I really wanted this next album to ooze that cool, dry, 70's Pink Floyd, Pretty Things, Alan Parsons-ish analog vibe. I brought some songs over to Tracy Chisolm in South Pasadena to record drums, with all of this 70's rhetoric in mind, and called on steadfast skin man George Bernardo to play the role of funky drummer. I remember asking Tracy for the dryest drum sound he could deliver. "You mean like Neil Young and Crazy Horse?" My heart skipped and I fell in love. "Um, yes, that will do just fine". Tracy is accustomed to producing big rock drum sounds so I was excited that he instantly knew what I wanted and was up for the challenge.

Once we were up and running, George pretty much killed it. My only request was that there were to be no cymbals for "Neptina". No cymbals and no guitars. For some reason, this felt like a bold idea to me. George obliged and every take was better than the last one. That's how Georgie rolls. The problem with heavies like Bernardo is that you just wanna keep on recording to see what they'll come up with next. This can be hell during post production sorting through all that extra media. But these are Cadillac problems, someone once told me.

I also asked Jason Chesney (Santana, Old Californio) to play live on these sessions alongside George. Jason had played beautifully on my first Elvis Orbison album. I'm convinced he is the bastard offspring of the late Motown great James Jamerson. So fluid, so organic. And forever the consummate professional, always on time and well prepared. His contributions to this album are noteworthy and cherished. Unfortunately, for "Neptina" I gave Jason some bad direction and asked him to trace over the demo version's bass line that I had composed myself. Over time, It grew too repetitious for me and I chose to abandon the idea. In retrospect, I should have just let Jason be Jason. Fortunately everything worked out in the end, which I will get to shortly.

After the Chisholm sessions concluded, I called on music maestro MIke Feldman to play piano and other keyboards. Michael's capacity to absorb musical ideas and vocabularies is astounding. If I'm thinking it should sound like Dr. John circa 1968, he'll go on Spotify, listen for a few minutes, internalize its essence and then deliver excellence (and tastefully so, I might add). Never seen anything like it. For "Neptina" I asked him to trace over my skeleton keyboard parts and then do his thing. This time, everything took beautifully. Perhaps I had learned my lesson with Jason and loosened the leash a bit. The keyboard solo you hear on the LP version is what happens when you let Feldman be Feldman. So good. He really should be a session musician.

With all these great players, the track was sounding pretty hot. I'd phased out almost all of the midi programming, dropped all of my guitars, but kept the cool Dr. Dre inspired flute-ish synth line you hear in the instrumental choruses. All the while, my original one-take scratch vocal of gibberish was still serving as a placeholder.

It was time to call Alanna Lin and see what she could add. I knew I was asking her to work outside her comfort zone, but I wanted a female vocal on this record that was unique and would not try and emulate that 'gimme shelter black girl' vocal cliche that worked so nicely for the Stones but too often ruins many white soul rock records. We tracked for a day and a half and by the end, Alanna came up with a crucial counter melody vocal which is featured prominently throughout the track. I love it. Thanks to Alanna, the song shifted from potential "KC and the Sunshine Band" territory over to a more respectable "Blondie/Roxy Music" lineage. We freestyled all sorts of Yoko weirdness for this session. Background vocals, crazy alternate vocals, spoken word and God knows what else. Some of it is really pretty cool. Perhaps an alternate version release is in order.

It was during this time that I was beginning to seriously doubt my bass line that Jason had so graciously obliged to play. The part needed to be a bit more minimalist. I kept picturing it sort of popping in and out at unexpected places, like something you'd hear on one of James Brown's 70's deep cuts. I mentioned to Alanna that I was bringing in bassist Joey Maramba (John Cale, Rickie Lee Jones, Ninja Academy) for a separate song and she suggested I give him a shot at 'Neptina'. I'd known Joey for a decade and had played with him once or twice. He is loved by many and has so much intuitive musical talent, it boggles the mind how good he is. I mentioned to Alanna that if anyone from our Highland Park scene of players would ascend to another level professionally, it would be Joey. He's just got that perfect blend of affability, taste, and talent. All I said to him was something like "70's James Brown" and "pop in and out" and he understood inherently. I'm going on record as saying that Joey saved my song. Or at least elevated it to another level. Joey was the missing link.

The days right before mixing were stressful. A bonafide deadline had been set with veteran uber-mixer David Bianco (Bob Dylan, Mick Jagger, Tom Petty) and I still had a few fixes and flourishes to tend to. It was time to hunker down and seriously commit, but now I was hearing orchestral strings in weird places. My mind was racing. Should I or shouldn't I? The strings could be too much. Plus, do I even have a decent string sound at my disposal? Cheap orchestral plug-ins will bring a good track to it's knees. But it's go time, so here I am, in the midnight hour, composing little lines with the pitch bender, trying to capture the essence of the TV theme song from "Dexter". Are these lines good enough? Who taught you you how to play keyboards? God, I wish Feldman were here. Ugh. The process.

But the biggest decision was whether I would put forth and write and record a brand new set of lyrics or would I stick with my one and only vocal pass from 2004? I did give it a few tries but what I came up with was anything but magical. So I made the call. It had to be 2004. That one improvised pass had endured thus far, after all. It was fun. It was spontaneous. And it was "only rock and roll" as they say in the biz. What finally sold me was that, at it's core, I wanted this album to have moments of genuine uncut honesty and you can't get any more honest than a first take. That vocal is my high school senior mullet photo. So tap your feet, have a good laugh and enjoy- my treat.