In The Pocket: “26 Missed Calls” by Liam Taylor

Zooming through the doors of Studio A, Liam Taylor stops before saying his “Hellos” to the few band members and engineers already here at Rax Trax, a prominent Chicago recording studio in Lakeview. Dolled up with glitter on his high cheekbones, Taylor slowly unravels his coat and searches through his satchel for a tea bag he had snagged on his way before settling for the fact that it wasn’t there after all. As band members finish a pre-session meal at the iconic Chicago spot Redhot Ranch, Taylor has a choice: Green, Decaf Chai or Black tea. Green tea is the winner. 

Taylor’s hands are littered with colorful rings, and his nails are painted a chipped indigo blue. He goes from one end of the studio to another, hitting perfect runs while reviewing the session plan. The green tea is delivered and sweetened with honey enclosed in a bear-shaped bottle. The tea bag is dipped in and out of the white mug several times until Taylor is satisfied. 

Today, Taylor and his band are recording “26 Missed Calls,” the first written of what will be (after this session) 14 fully recorded songs under his belt. Taylor, an up-and-coming pop-r&b artist with experience taking stages at Lollapalooza, has been making music since he was 17 and is a graduating senior studying music at Columbia College Chicago. He gushes about his excitement and walks into the booth to join guitarist Josh Trimble, drummer Hugh Maxey and bassist Andrew King. 

“26 Missed Calls” and its lyrics are based on Taylor’s experience with an ex-boyfriend after a nasty breakup. Within a span of 45 minutes, Taylor’s ex called him 26 times after radio silence, obviously not taking it very well. 

“That afternoon, I blocked his number,” Taylor said, explaining the circumstances.

“In the next week or so, we went completely no contact. I was trying to figure out a way to get through these feelings, and once I had cried enough tears, my sadness turned into anger. I took that anger, and a few nights later, ‘26 Missed Calls’ was born.” 

Taylor just recently got back into the country after almost six months abroad studying in Mannheim, Germany, at the Popakademie, where he performed in concerts, made friends and gained confidence in his artistry. Taylor’s most recent release, the single “that’s not love!!!” was released January 6 of this year while he was still in Germany and thus followed by his first-ever album “how’d i get here?” a month later. 

“I spent the last month in Germany being so excited for this session,” Taylor said. “The musicians who played on the track were there when I wrote the song and actually helped bring the arrangement to life.”

Like looking into a fish tank, the massive window into the booth lets us watch the band interact and soundcheck as Maxey, Trimble, and King shoot out natural licks. The room is freshly painted a stark beige as of two months ago, with bohemian faded rugs coating underneath the drum kit. Cords and microphones litter the room, keeping everyone confined to their own space, but all feeding off the same airy but effortless energy. The headphone stands are adjusted, and the speakers above the soundboard in the other room gush with the painless groove of warm-ups. The audio is quiet through the speakers as engineers Emma Butterworth and Noah Savoie settle into the studio. But through the glass, the rhythm and vibrations electrify.

Taylor plays keys with his back facing the glass, overlooking his band. The headphones come off, and the band shares some banter before Taylor faces the window, hits a pose and disappears into the vocal booth. His potent voice fills the speakers, intoxicating, spellbinding and entrapping with his lyrics. The group exchanges funny British accents and jokes before the real work starts. 

Trimble starts on the guitar, strumming a dreamy chord as Taylor’s voice comes in, complimenting the tone of the Ibanez. Starting quiet and innocent, Taylor switches up and bears it all to the microphone. 

“I just want some closure/But the game of life ain’t fair/How am I supposed to get over/When you did me like this, did me like this,” Taylor sings.

The complimenting drums and bass come in later to fill the empty space and round out the last half of the song. 

Back in the control room, the band listens to the first run of the recording to check the tone. Someone remarks that they didn’t feel good about the take, and the whole band reveals they never expected the first take to be perfect; they have an entire six-hour session for that purpose. Maxey and Trimble begin a side conversation on a loveseat about rushing and dragging with their respective instruments in some parts of the song. 

Back in the booth and rerunning it, the band tries and pulls off, bringing in the drums and bass earlier in the song. 

“I used to do 47 takes of the same line over and over because I was way too particular about how my voice sounded,” Taylor says. “As time went on, though, I have learned to be a bit more relaxed, and I have also learned to just have fun with the vocals. I have also really gotten good about putting myself in a headspace to go in the booth and get a good take as quickly as possible. I think that just comes with practice,”

Right at the song’s climax, Maxey’s drum hits get bigger and bigger, and his face scrunches up into what we would call the “stank face.” He hits the sweet spot of his pocket. With everyone in the booth, their movements are effortless, like they’re playing in their sleep. Taylor’s accusatory heartbroken lyrics slip right off his tongue like he’s ranting to a friend or writing a diary entry. King, Trimble and Maxey have their eyes closed.

As the ending approaches, the band’s heads snap in the direction of the vocal booth, just off the larger booth connected by a glass sliding door. Taylor’s voice trails off. 

“Again, again,” Taylor says after another take. 

After a few more takes, the band returns to the studio to listen to the most recent take. By this time, Gracie Lubisky arrives to track background vocals after the band is done recording. Taylor’s knees buckle back and forth against the beat of the drums and guitar working together. Trimble, laid out on the hardwood floor with King lying face down beside him, dissects his parts starting at the 2-minute 30-second mark, with the studio dog Izzy laying on him, wagging her tail. Maxey stands against the center console with his phone out, watching the Lakers game, his fist pressed against his lips. 

Martha White gets here as Trimble packs up and leaves for the rest of the night; the energy stays high throughout the night’s turn. Next up are vocals, where the soulfulness of this song shines through. White goes first in the vocal booth, then Lubisky puts down simple harmonies, complimenting Taylor’s tone and lyrics. Making the message of the song stand out more than it already did, the process happens quickly, and efficiently, and the session works more as a foundation for what is to come. The song is long from being finished in Rax Trax tonight. Instead, it’s a sketch of what Taylor intends for the audience to think, feel or reminisce about when listening to “26 Missed Calls.” 

“My biggest concern is getting the band to where they like their parts and musicianship. Then, throwing the vocals down, because once we get the basics down, it just comes down to mixing, and then adding extra parts,” Taylor says.

But when it comes to mixing and putting out the final project, Taylor relies on his friend and accomplice Sam Vallianatos, who has been mixing and producing his songs for almost four years. The two work their hypnotic energy back into songs through bouts of layering, purposeful audio clips and the enhancement of Taylor’s already chilling vocals. It’s hard to describe just how spellbinding the projects these two work on together are. Still, they’re the equivalent of being pulled through the tiny speakers of your headphones to an entirely different universe, one that melodically revolves around Taylor.

Although the project still is months in the making, you can already see the schematics of an angsty-pop breakup anthem being built around you.