To those who didn't, it was clear he was no Trojan horse. To those who knew him personally, he was an established, respected professional. There was clattering speculation as to the who, when, and where of it, but everyone knew Mixerman was not a poseur. Industry professionals immediately identified with the empirical details, and the uninitiated were equally drawn in by this rubbernecking view of making records. Not only had the wheels fallen off, but, as one delved further, one started to see the truth illuminated: This immethodical circus was not the exception. However, instead of the story we'd all heard about getting to the top, riding in limos, and being chased by throngs of screaming fans, this was something different. It was a little slice of the rock and roll dream-a young band promised stardom, a big budget, and a name producer. On July 27, 2002, a mysterious music insider, who had already gained a reputation for dispensing sound technical advice via Usenet, started chronicling the day-to-day goings-on of a recording he was making for a large record company.
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