Mel Cooke, Gleaner Writer

It is a Thursday night and Grafton Studios in Vineyard Town, St Andrew, is in quiet mode, a few young men at the front passionately discussing matter of music. A concrete pathway runs along the side of the building to the back, not the main studio which The Sunday Gleaner has visited before, but a smaller set-up which has a comfortable working feel. There are couches in the large, well-lit room, but there is no lounging around.

A voicing session for Natel's This Distance, done to music produced by Sean 'Pow' Diedrick, is on. And when he rises from the arm of one of the chairs, and heads into the voicing room, it is all business.

Long, painstaking business

Engineer Micah Henry and producer Mikie Bennett are on the other side of the glass, through which they can make eye contact with Natel, who has grown immensely (in more ways than one) since his days on Digicel Rising Stars in 2005. Bennett has a microphone too, so he can speak to Natel.

More talking than singing

And there is a lot of talking, more than singing, instructions on phrasing and pronunciation among them.

Natel wrote This Distance from his personal perspective of being away a lot from his lady, who is still in the 'country' as he pursues music in Kingston. He sings, "sharing your thoughts puts a smile on my face/but something's missing."

He affirms his fidelity with "I never cheat on you/even when I can't get your phone/I prefer to be alone", even as the peers put on the pressure ("although my friends talk to me/and say I need a girl in town").

"Pull up a new track," Bennett says to Henry and the session is on.

Natel asks Henry to play the song and, two lines in says "ready"; the session begins. But on the first line Bennett stops him. "Put some more 'o' on the thoughts", and it is back to the start, the first of numerous rewinds.

Another restart

When Natel sings "put a line on your face," Bennett suggests that it is changed to "put a line on my face". They agree and it is another restart.

After about five restarts, the voicing session has not gone past the first line ("the love in my heart won't be erased"), but nobody is flustered and it is getting better each time. Bennett slaps his thigh as he emphasises how Natel should put some pizzazz in a line ("you holding the endings too long"). A couple restarts later, Natel starts This Distance softer and Bennett says "me like da tone deh my yute"; a couple lines later he commands "give me a little more energy".

"That was the genius of John Holt, Dennis Brown, Delroy Wilson," Bennett says to The Sunday Gleaner. "They figured out how many words were in the line and fit it in.

"Slide the words into each other," Bennett says, advising Natel about ending one line and starting another. And, after the umpteenth stop and start, Bennett finally lights up.

Breathing properly

"I like that!" he says.

But he cautions, "I don't think you breathing properly. You start well, but you no have no breath," Bennett comments. They listen back to a section and Natel laughs as he says, "It off-key, little bit."

They are heading to the end of the first verse now and Bennett says, "Nice, nice," cautioning Natel on the chorus, "You still thinking words, think phrase".

"Sounds quite sensitive," a satisfied Bennett says about a line as they head to a close of the session and Natel sings, "But don't cry, please dry your tears/one day I'll forever be there."

"The last one them sound good," comments Natel, now out of the voicing room and in the comfy space, all three listening to This Distance.

And the editing process begins.