Clare Teal: Why recording live gave me sock mouth

In this instance it isn’t triggered by the chaps in the control room who, like us are staring at the wooden plinth on which said bulb is mounted.

No we are all poised ready for the cutting lathe engineer who is squirrelled away somewhere else in the building. Only when he is happy will the session begin.

The light goes on and Chris counts off the first tune. Four bars later I begin to sing, the adrenalin coursing through my body is unbelievable.

I never usually suffer with nerves, but it’s not unusual in stressful situations for me to feel a bit shaky. So in addition to trying to get the tune and words out in the right order, I’m giving myself a stiff talking to, along the lines of this is an incredible experience, to stand in the shoes of your heroine Ella Fitzgerald, to cut a record with big band direct to vinyl with no safety net.

We finish the 1st song and within a couple of seconds Chris cues the next.

I have no time to reach for my cup of tea, so spend the next song trying to ignore the fact my mouth is drying out and my tongue is in danger of sticking.

With song three is underway I’m hitting stride and starting to enjoy myself.

Unlike the great bands and singers of yesteryear who recorded their singles straight to vinyl, we are making an entire album.

This means recording all the songs on side one consecutively with no opportunity to stop in between tracks, same again for side two.

Here’s the last track on side 1, but seconds from the end the trumpets play a little louder than they had in rehearsal and disaster strikes when the grooves being cut by the lathe cross.

This renders the whole first half of the session unusable.

We now have to start all over again, which I’m secretly quite pleased about.

Not wishing to succumb to sock mouth again, I end up holding my mug of tea throughout the next session.

To onlookers it lends an air of nonchalance , but I wonder if I’m rediscovering tricks of the trade well known to singers back in the day.