How'd you get into recording?
I got interested when my first high school band did a demo. I was 16 and had always been fascinated by tape decks. All I remember about the studio was that it had a 4-track reel-to-reel, not a Tascam — it was an Ampex or something. I remember he had Neumann mics — U87s — and I thought it was odd that he'd put those on guitar amps. Even back then I was thinking I knew more than I did. When they mixed it down they gave us our copy on an 8-track! Later on we did another demo with a Tascam 80-8 studio. It was a home studio and when the owner moved out of town, he told the guy who bought the house that I was the engineer who kind of went along with it. So I started going in and bluffing my way through recording. Not much later I moved to NYC for the first time to attend the Institute of Audio Research. I went there for a little while and got a job at another 8-track studio. Probably the single most influential year of recording because it was me and one other guy. We did all the sessions, the place worked all the time, and a lot of very talented musicians came in. I then moved to LA to work with a band and, while out there, did my first 4-track session. I told the band that I'd done it before but realized something was wrong when my first overdub was out of synch with the tracks. I told the band there was a problem, called the engineer — who told me how to do it right — then told the band I'd fixed it and went on with the session. Moved back to NYC and got hired on as an engineer at The Hit Factory. One Friday I was told I'd be recording a project on the following Monday, using a single, very live room, a Neve console for tracking, and an SSL for mixing, none of which I'd used before. Studied the gear all weekend (it was really complex stuff compared to what I was used to), and did the sessions without a hitch. After everyone agreed that the songs turned out really good I confessed that it had been the first time I had recorded in the room.
During all that time, were there any defining moments or turning points?
I would say the concept of "whatever it takes to get a good sound." I got that from John Palermo, a friend who worked at Electric Ladyland. He would come into the little 8-track place I was working and get the most amazing sounds — far above what we could get — using the same equipment. He was totally willing to push everything — EQ the piss out of it — 'cause that's what it took for it to sound good. I think that when people first start they are afraid to EQ too much. I used to ask him if that added a lot of noise and he'd say, "The sound is more significant than the noise." That seems a small thing but it's not. I learned a lot about productions and arrangement from Little Steven. I got to work with him on three or four records and learned a ton. I also learned a huge amount working with [producer] Steve Berlin [#55] on a record we did with Chuck Prophet a few years back. I learned things I still use to this day.
Any favorite projects you've worked on?
I think one of the high points was working with Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes' record Better Days that Little Steven produced. That was an amazing record. Also, Kacy Crowley's Anchorless, Stevie Ray Vaughan's In Step, Plum's Trespassing, and the forthcoming Silver Scooter record [The Blue Law].
What do you bring to a recording session that is unique?
Well, in the genre of pop music, which is 90 percent of what I work on, the thing that's most important to me, after the song and the singer, is the arrangement, or the shape of the tune. You know, that moment building up to the bridge, or hitting into the second chorus — whatever was the high point of the tune. So what I try to encourage is a definite flow of energy of the song. Sometimes people want to rebel against standard song forms — it doesn't always have to be verse-chorus, verse-chorus, but you can stray only so far. After that it's no longer a pop song. I got into production not because I was dying to produce, but because I wanted to control how things sounded and make them sound better.
When you go in to produce, do you have a goal or plan to follow?
I try and get an idea from the artist [about] what they are trying to do. Ten years ago I might have had my own ideas about what kind of record someone wanted to make. Especially falling into the trap that I might know more about recording than the artist. Of course, this was back before everyone had access to every kind of recording medium. It really was true that a lot of artists didn't have much experience recording, so a lot of engineers thought, "This is just the artist, we'll take it from here." Somewhere along the way I realized that it wasn't my record, it was the artist's, so I let go of feeling like I had to win any battles of "how things should be." The first thing I try to find out is what statement the artist wants to make, then figure out how to do that most effectively. That's one of the cool things about doing multiple records with an artist. Everybody knows the same vocabulary and has a starting point. Chuck Prophet used to say, "What is the menu for this record?" and he'd list out options, the items on the menu. Like, "We can use the Leslie on the guitar, but that means no B3." or, "It's a rock band, so no keyboards." Those are pretty broad examples but it can be a little deeper by making subtle but conscious choices like, "No harmony vocals" or "No tambourines on choruses — we'll have to find some other kind of percussion." And that's kind of fun — it's bringing an aesthetic of limiting your choices and letting that be a part of the creation of the record. A lot of times that's what makes records great that were recorded with modest means. They, unintentionally, have a very limited menu. That causes things to happen that don't happen with an unlimited budget or unlimited choices. Sometimes too many colors make the paining black.
Ever heard of the author Georges Perec? For his novel A Void he gave himself the arbitrary rule of "no 'E's". It started as a joke, but he enjoyed it so much, and found his creativity exploding within that construct, that he made a full novel out of it.
That's amazing. I love shit like that.
Analog or digital?
Well, after going back and forth between the two, I've found that there are things that digital can do better than analog, but I always come back to analog because it sounds so much better to me. I like the limited menu that recording with analog affords. If you are doing a project where you need a great deal of manipulation, the manipulation itself becomes part of the art form. But if you're doing a rock 'n' roll record, the 24-track analog tape deck is part of the art form.
Sort of like a Stratocaster?
