When Olympus studios was really cooking, back when a slab of vinyl was a crucial calling card for any band to build a following and land a management deal (remember those?), the producers there were gods. They could, and would, change a band’s whole style and identity on a whim, based on what was hot on the charts that week.
If an act had raised enough scratch, through constant gigging, hyping and humiliation, to gain entrance to the blue and white greenroom nicknamed the Gate of Clouds, they thought they’d made it into the heavens. But their hellish journey was just beginning.
The Oddsies, whose mature members had all cracked Olympus as teens in different bands, wrote a song about it:
So calm, so clean, so clinical,
A technological wonderland
A garden of experimental delight
The sweet dew of creativity, the calm rain of inspiration
How could it ever storm in there?

The Bullfinch is closed tonight for a private party. Not one you need to know about… Blues Nite at Hamilton’s with Sinister Signpost and Wildcat Swamp… More metal madness at D’ollaire’s (don’t they know school’s back in session; bring on the indies!) with Flickering Torch, Mark on the Door and A Figure in Hiding…