How did your career get started?
In college I got the bug to be in a band, to be a musician. But I was too afraid to commit to the artist lifestyle and my bands fell apart. I had this crazy idea that I was going to move to Los Angeles, rent a house with four friends, and we were gonna have a band. Because two of the guys were engineers, they were going to teach me how to record. So, I made a gear list based on their recommendations, and I thought, "Cool. We're gonna move to Los Angeles and do it." Then people didn't show up to the airport when it came time to fly out and find the house.
You were at the airport and people didn't show up?
Yes! I helped people buy their plane tickets. They paid me for the plane tickets and we said, "We'll go out to L.A." I went to the airport and I was the only person at the gate! Nobody showed up, and no one would get back to me. I freaked out. Massive panic attack in [the Boston International] Logan Airport, but I came out [to California] and it was fine.
Is Boston where you grew up?
Yes. I moved out to L.A. a couple months later. That's when my roommate at the time said to me, "I found an ad on the UTA [United Talent Agency] job list. It says multi-platinum band with A-list producer seeks recording studio assistant." Super nebulous. I thought being a recording studio assistant was what I wanted to do. This was day five of living in California. I didn't have a bed to sleep on. I answered this ad and I interviewed with the band's day-to-day manager. He said, "This is for Thirty Seconds to Mars. We've got Flood [Tape Op #117] producing the record. You're going to be getting lunch, getting coffee, taking trash out, whatever."
Did you know who Flood was, at the time?
No. So I said, "Great! I'll do that." They said, "You have no experience, but we'll see if the band likes you. We'll see if the producer likes you." The following day I went to this address, which turned out to be the band's house, and I met with Shannon [Leto] and Tomo [Milicevic]; the drummer and guitar player, respectively. I walked into the studio and I had never seen Pro Tools before. They asked me if I had ever recorded any of my own music, and I hadn't. I was terrified. I thought, "Why did I do this? This is not going to work." They said, "Well, why don't you come back tomorrow and meet our producer?" I came back the next day and met Flood, but I didn't know who he was. I ended up talking to him for a few hours. He asked me what I liked about records, what I didn't like, what albums I enjoyed, and so on. What's really embarrassing is that I pretty much talked about half of his discography.
And not knowing it?
No. I had no idea. I was explaining how and when I thought some artists made shifts that I thought were cooler and way more interesting. Most of those records were him. He was totally cool. Then I went home, Googled him, and realized, "Oh, I am definitely not getting hired." But sure enough, they hired me! I started off every day making coffee, getting lunch, taking out trash, cleaning the studio, tuning every guitar, every bass, etc. Because I'm a drummer, I was also tech'ing the drum kit and making sure it sounded the way that Shannon wanted. I did that for months. They were writing and recording simultaneously.
So that was months of Thirty Seconds to Mars?
Yeah. I was actually on that record for almost a year and a half.
Can you look back and think about what you knew on day one versus what you knew by the last day?
There were two assistants - me and another guy - and he had a lot of experience. He was really cool about showing me the basics, and Flood was really cool about showing me the intermediate basics, plus some more philosophical recording ideas and techniques to try. I was so bad at making coffee that I was I was forced to go into the control room and become the assistant. It was incredibly embarrassing. I thought I was getting fired. Flood said, "Look, I've been making records for over 30 years, and I don't understand how you can't make decent coffee. I'm going to relieve you of your duties; you're now going to take recall notes." I had no experience.
Presumably you were better on the recall notes than the coffee making?
Infinitely better.
Now you're really good at making coffee.
Oh, man, thank you! That record [This Is War] was really important for me. People talk about getting on an escalator and getting a fast-tracked career path or education in recording. I got on an elevator. I saw these really talented engineers, who were also producers and mixers, coming through these sessions and recording a drum set. I thought, "Oh, that's how you do it." I had to record a lot when a producer was out, or an engineer was off for the weekend. I'd have to sit there and say, "Why does my work sound really bad, and this other person's sounds really good?" The band would want this other person's sound.
Was the mixing console soaking wet from all of your sweat during those sessions?
There was no console in that studio! It had a lot of outboard gear. I think they were ahead of the curve, because it became the modern setup. It's how my studio is set up now, as well as a lot of places, where it's great microphones, great preamps, EQs, and compressors. It all comes up on the patchbay and right into the interface.
What happened when that record was finished?
I called Flood to check in. As a joke, I told him that I bought a ticket and was coming to London. He said, "Well, I wouldn't come in October because I don't really have any work then, but you should come in January when I have some work. Just move your ticket." I was very quickly hustling to buy a ticket! I moved to London for a little bit. During the day, I observed and shadowed Flood and Rob Kirwan. Rob's a brilliant engineer and producer. I watched them do some singles for the band Editors. It was that permission I needed to essentially be the weirdo that I always was. Most engineers don't allow you to do vocals in the control room or put the guitar cabinet on its back.
There's a "right" way to do things.
Yeah, and there's merit to that. You gotta learn how to crawl before you walk, so learning the basics is really important. I think that's still something that I stress within myself. I worked during the day for those dudes, and at night I was recording vocals for an artist who Alan was mixing.
Alan Moulder?
Yes, Alan Moulder. When Flood would finish up around seven or eight o'clock, I would go down to Alan's mix room and sit on the back couch. When he would take a break, I'd ask a question or whatever. He was mixing Interpol [Tape Op #43], and I ended up recording Paul Banks' vocals for a few songs. It was a trip. I didn't know that it was Interpol. I didn't know that it was Paul.
Who did you think it was?
I didn't know. I'd listened to Interpol, but I didn't know what they looked like. Paul approached me and said, "Alan said there's an American in the building who can record my voice. Is that you?" I said, "Yes!" One of the things that I took away from that apprenticeship is that it's not about equipment. I think anyone can learn that. I think it's really about the artist's mindset and how to help them get the wacky ideas out that they have. Just be a consummate professional and serve, serve, serve those people. You can find the specifics that they truly want. I think about that every day.
Then you came back to L.A.
Yes, and I did about six more apprenticeships with all these different producers. I was more confident in my engineering, which was still pretty raw and rough around the edges. At least I felt comfortable with my microphone technique and experience.
How did you get those apprenticeships?
Well, on the …Mars record, with all of the engineers and producers who came through...
So, it started there?
