28.9.08

The Road to Banff

Week one of my associateship at the Banff Centre went by quickly, although it already feels like I have been here for quite some time.  I have met artists, musicians, sound engineers, and all sorts of others from around the world.  Coming to this new place, I fell into routine mode to deal with the transition - practicing and swimming every day.  However, I have also adapted to the pace of the place, and find myself able to relax through long days.  We are learning our way around the studios, and around Banff in general.  One of my highlights has been playing Catherine Thompson's homemade instruments.  She made a Kora out of a gourd, deer skin (which she tanned herself), wood, and other organic materials.  It is a west-african instrument, with many strings, played like a harp with both hands.  It has the power to transport you to another world.  When playing the instrument, time seems to not pass, and I do not know if I have played for minutes or hours.  
On Friday and Saturday nights I checked out the Aboriginal Art Department's presentation of "Songs above the Treeline," a performance of  music from First Nation, Metis, and other Native Canadian groups.  The most striking was Tanya Tagaq's use of acoustic instruments, throat singing, and contemporary computer electronics and sound manipulation to create a collage of ancient and futuristic sounds.
I live in the Rocky Mountain Housing Co-Op, and my walk to the Banff Centre is around 20 minutes.  On the way I see (photos by my roommate LJ from Holland):

A bridge


Mountains












Wildlife









The Historic Banff Springs Hotel


Today we have a seminar with mastering engineer Andres Mayo from Buenos Aires.  He just recently produced a highly successful Tango DVD box set.  Later this week I will be recording two concerts:  The Saint Lawrence String Quartet on Thursday, and the Music Residency Concert Series on Friday, both in Rolston Hall.  
Some gig opportunities have come up so my playing chops will stick with me.  The library here has many scores for me to check out.  I am also practicing drums with a book, helping me read rhythms and coordinate the separation of my limbs.  I mostly practice in Telus studio.  
I am still wrapping my head around the control room, but I am beginning to understand the console, and I have been able to pull up outboard Eq, compression, and reverb.
Yesterday I went on a hike to Lake Morraine (very close to Lake Louise).  We saw a bear on our hike from Lake Morraine to the Consolation Lakes.  
We had a picnic lunch on the rocks.  The mountains here are tremendous.  

19.9.08

Recording Eva Castillo: 3 hours later

I first met Eva at a jam session at the old Funk Box in Baltimore, Maryland sometime back in 2004.  I was playing in a funk-jazz combo, "The Deathburger Thing," and Eva was performing her solo pieces.  The guitarist of our band, Jon Cylus, asked Eva if she would join us on a tune called "Banana Fungus."  To say the least, Eva's soulful voice and funky music left an impression on me.  Flash forward about 8 months:  I have returned from a semester abroad in Barcelona, and I find myself setting up a small home studio in my apartment, and inviting Eva over to record some tracks.  We found a drummer, and start playing out.  One of Eva's many strengths is that she can hold her own as a solo artist, or put together a band to fill out her sound for a club or festival gig.
The Funk Box (a.k.a The 8x10 they have changed their names so many times I have lost track), invited the Eva Castillo Trio to be the house band for their open mic sessions.  At this time, we were playing with our friend and drummer Zach Williams.  Eva won some studio time at The Bunker Recording Studio, where she cut her first record "Day By Day" with musician and producer Chris Bentley.  Zach eventually left Baltimore, and we played some gigs with drum master Shareef Taher
 Eva was invited to perform on WTMD's program promoting local talent, "Baltimore Unsigned," hosted by Sam Sessa January 16, 2006.  We were interviewed, and performed live in the studio to 2-tracks (One room studio, Shure mics into a Mackie mixer).
Our first recording session for Eva's second record, "3 hours later," was on April Fools Day of 2007.  Alan Munshower was on drums, while I played bass and reached for the record button in the basement of our rowhouse in Baltimore.  Alan and I were in the same room, separated by a small baffle, and Eva was in the laundry room laying down some scratch vocals and guitar.  We recorded all the basic tracks to a Tascam 38 8-Track 1/2" reel-to-reel tape machine.  Drums had small omnidirectional mics as overheads, a Shure52 on the kick, and an sm57 on snare.  
The bass had a cardioid MXL mic suspended in the bridge with a velcro apparatus.  After all the basic tracks were done, we bounced the bass and drums into 4-tracks of ProTools, and began the overdub sessions.
We recorded Eva's guitar twice.  The first time, I used a stereo array, trying to give the guitar the feeling of space.  We found that the guitar sound was too weak, so we tried again with a single large diaphragm microphone on the body of the guitar, and the result was much warmer and detailed.  
Blake Mobley's keyboard overdubs were played on Fender "Sally" Rhodes, or a Nord Electro, going through a Fender DeVille Tube amp, micd with an sm57.  I also took my laptop and some mics to a grand piano in a practice room
 to lay down some piano tracks.  The percussion overdubs were done in the basement with 2 sm57s.  Alan and I did nearly the whole record in one take, only occasionally stopping to tune a conga or grab a different shaker.
The real magic happened at the vocal session.  I brought Eva and a portable workstation to the spiral staircase at the Peabody Conservatory.  I had her singing into an MXL large condenser mic, and I strung another mic three floors above her to capture the natural reverb.  The sound was angelic.  She did the whole record in one or two takes.  
She composed and performed her harmonies on the spot, always in key.  Beautiful.  She said that she felt so natural performing in a space that made her vocals sound so good, which gave her the confidence to sing her heart out.
The vocals and guitar for "Powerless" were recorded on a cassette 4-track.  It was risky using this format, but the end result is charming.  I added glockenspiel, guitarron, and shaker.  It was a challenge to mix, because the texture of the vocals and guitar on tape was drastically different from that of the direct-to-digital overdubs.  Imagine a painting, where the subject is painted onto a canvas (tape), and the background scenery is painted onto a piece of glass (digital).
For "Dice In My Hand," I played a Yamaha fretless electric bass.  I thought the track should be a bit funkier, so when I bounced the drums to digital, I used the pitch knob on the tape machine to slow down the tempo just a hair, and make the pitch of the drums a touch lower.  I then re-did the bass lines, and we worked from there with the other overdubs.  I used a similar effect on the "3 hours later remix," where I slowed down the tape, I added a delay to the snare drum from a guitar effects pedal (thank you Sandlord), and crafted a new concept for the tune:
I loved listening to the reverb on her voice, and I started listening to her harmonies in absence of the instrumental tracks.  At some point, a very striking harmony absolutely floored me.  Eva embellished a vocal melody and matched herself with the embellishment a fifth higher so perfectly it sounded alien.  I wanted to highlight this, so others could hear the amazing thing I heard.  For this reason, I have the vocals completely alone for this section of the song (if you have a copy of the "3 hours later remix," listen around 2:56).  The rest of the song is drums, bass, and vocals, until the last chorus when everything is piled on - piano, keys, guitar, percussion, strings, and effects.  I had to trick the session musicians into recording both the normal version of the tune, and then the last chorus of the remix.  If I had an orchestra at my disposal, I would have arranged the shit out of the end of that tune.
Mixing the record was a true pleasure.  I used a little digital reverb to make some of the instruments glue together a bit, but the natural reverb on the vocals was the true yum.  In mixing, I avoid automation as much as possible.  I treat mixing as a performance art.  I listened and took my time dialing up eqs, compression, and reverb, but the fader moves were all played live.  The tape imbued it's own personality on the record - there was a give and take there with capturing great sounds and performances, but having to deal with some inevitable tape hiss.  
Ed Tetreault mastered the record.  He used some very tasteful peak limiting, and pushed up the dynamics just a bit on each track.  That way, the dynamic range was retained, but more detail can be heard.  He also found a buildup at certain frequencies (probably due to the dimensions of my basement), which he equalized a couple of dB using large Qs (translation:  he used subtle methods to make it sound better). 
The CD release party was at the 13th floor of the Belvedere Hotel March 30, 2008.  Investing myself in this project from start to finish was a pleasure because of the people involved.  I have found that in life, it does not matter much what I am doing, but who I am doing it with.

18.9.08

Film Scoring for Documentary: Life on the Burma Border

I was excited when film producer Mark Belinsky approached me in May to work on his documentary about the Thai-Burma Border. He visited me in Baltimore, we discussed the project, and he showed me a rough cut of the video. At that point, we started conceptualizing of what music could do for the picture. Because of the environment and the context, we decided that only acoustic instruments would be appropriate.  I was to compose the score.  It took me three attempts, but in the end all parties were happy with the result, and the film is now in it's final stages of development.
The first attempt, I prepared the old 310 piano with a pentatonic scale. I used screws, which I screwed between the strings of certain keys, and positioned them so that the hammers would hit the screws rather than the string, giving the notes a bell-like quality. I set up my work station so I could play and watch the film at the same time. I recorded two takes, each the entire length of the cut of the film I had. The first, I played free, reacting to what I was seeing on the screen. The second, I played to a click track, using many of the ideas I had begun to develop in the first take. I overdubbed some bass, edited some sections of takes together, and placed them in the film to enhance the vibe of whatever scene was playing. This method, although fun and interesting, was too abstract for what was appropriate for the film.
For the second attempt, I invited my good friend and extraordinary musician Josh Shapero over to play along with the film, and record some extra takes. We recorded flutes, bass, bowed percussion, and jaw-harp. Josh is a good reference for music from that part of the world, and had a good ear for working with the instruments we were using. However, the product of our work was too generally "Asiatic," and did not sound specific enough to the region we were composing for.  A problem for the first attempts was that the compositions lacked unity. The instruments, harmony, and textures were consistent, however, there were very few recurring motifs, melodic riffs, or structural ideas.
In the mean time, our friend Joan Spirytus was working on a narrative film at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) called "Popcorn." She asked Baltimore musicians Ben Frock and Jon Birkholz to compose some music for it. In an afternoon, without ever seeing any of the video, Ben, Jon and I approached the music with a few simple concepts and melodic ideas. We recorded these ideas in layers with several instruments, and then mixed versions - just guitar, guitar with accordion, accordion with rhodes, etc. It was an efficient and effective way to work, and when it was synchronized with the film, it enhanced the narrative.
With this experience of scoring for another film, I re-started my work on the Thai-Burma border project with a fresh concept. This time, I put the film aside for a minute, and worked on the composition. I checked out as much Thai and Burmese traditional music I could get my hands on. I transcribed melodies, scales, and rhythms. I found that the mixolydian mode was very common, as was a scale that I understand as "the black keys plus C," which I translated into a major (lydian) mode of F#, and a minor mode of B-flat. With these harmonies in mind, I composed a couple of motifs of my own, and experimented with putting them over different roots, which changed their harmonic flavor. 
What is with the human obsession with rhythm? I decided that whether or not a percussion track is heard in the final version, all of the compositions should be recorded in strict time. Instead of pulling up a metronome, I went into the organic sound lab archives, and found a few tracks of Alan Munshower and I playing conga, shaker, and tambourine at different tempos. I looped the percussion (in very long loops, so it is hardly noticeable that looping was used), and began to record over them. I recorded Hohner pump organ (which was eventually not used because it is too loud and ugly), Ocinara (also not used because I could not get the correct pitches out of it), vibraphone, bass, and a mandolin-like instrument Derv lent to me and I tuned to a baritone tuning. I recorded several versions of the composition, and edited different takes together. Then, in mixing, I mixed the percussion in and out, and used different flavors of double-bass (arco or pizz).
In the end, I had three compositions, very well structured, with vibraphone, percussion, mandolin, and bass. Different modes were used at different tempos, and very clear motifs were repeated, embellished, and built upon. The compositions had a unifying effect, and complemented each other very well. Whether or not they had a percussion track mixed into them, they moved forward because they were recorded in time. Some of them had a more melancholy feel, where others resonated beautiful hope.
Perhaps the most interesting stage of this creative process was meeting Mark in New York to synchronize the music with the final cut of the film. He had staked out a friend's video editing studio, and we set up shop for two days of listening, watching, and experimenting. A great consideration was the use of silence - when does the music enhance the scene, and when is the absence of music more effective? 
I was invited to eat with the documentary team - Liz Hodes, Emily Jacobi, and Mark - at Liz's apartment in Brooklyn. I love New York, and I have great respect for people who go there with dreams, survive, and are able to make their way. But, I do not know if it is the place for me. I feel trapped on the island when I am there. I like a city that you can walk out of, and eventually hit the woods. Maybe someday I will get over it, but for now, I will be happy visiting for a few days to gig or work on projects.  On the Fung Wah bus, I was reading "The World Without Us" by Alan Weisman, and I kept imagining trees growing out of the streets, and herds of caribou returning to Manhattan island.
They had a few screenings of the film in NYC, and I hear that the music was well received. I really enjoy this kind of work, and I find it rewarding when it works well in a collaborative environment, and it is appreciated by a larger audience. I would say that in the future, the business side of the project (contracts, figuring out who owns what and who gets what) is taken care of at the front end. Then, nothing can get in the way of the creative process, which is what this is all about. The music industry is confusing, and the film industry is complex, and the two together present goliath-like intimidation from a business/legal standpoint.  If you have any experience in film scoring or the legal issues surrounding synchronizing music with film, please share because I am still learning.  Despite the legal complications, from a creative perspective I find that the marriage of audio/music to video/film is complementary, inspiring, and powerful. 
Mark and Emily work out of their production company, New Words.  Check their website for updated information on this documentary, "Don't Look Back:  Life on the Burma Border."

17.9.08

Bovine Ska

Moooooo!  Last night I stayed up late listening to Generoso's Bovine Ska radio show on WMBR 88.1 in Cambridge.  I have known Gene for over 10 years now (he produced my high school band's record), and I try to catch his late night radio show whenever I can.  He is an expert on Jamaican music history, from Mento, through Ska, Rocksteady, and Reggae.  Last night was especially nice because us listeners in Brookline got a shout out from Dani (the oafish but lovable jew) listening in Pittsburgh!  His show is every Tuesday night from midnite-2am.
One of the most interesting projects that I have been involved in was Generoso's documentary on Jamaican guitar legend Lyn Taitt.  For the project, Lyn was invited to MIT studios to record with some local boston musicians - Eli Keszler (drums), Andrew Fenlon (tbone), Emeen Zarookian (guitar/bass), Ben Jaffe (sax), and myself (upright bass/guitar).    We rehearsed a few times before Lyn came to Boston from Montreal, and once with Lyn the night before the session.  His strength as a session musician in Jamaica (outside of his unique guitar style) was his ability to conjure up sophisticated arrangements of the tunes that were brought into the studio.  He certainly displayed this at the rehearsal, and during the session.  There was a moment of panic at the rehearsal when he exclaimed "This is not reggae music!  What do you want me to do with this?"  But we weren't necessarily trying to create, or re-create reggae music.  We were taking avant-garde compositions, and adapting them to rocksteady rhythms and format.  Eventually the band started to gel.  I will never forget driving Lyn back to his hotel, and him commenting on how the musicians were very good, but they play crazy.  As he got out of the car, he pointed to Eli and said "You are a great drummer!"
The defining moment of the recording session was when local piano master Ran Blake came to the studio to lay down some fender rhodes tracks.  At first, Lyn and Ran could not find common musical ground.  However, when we got into one of the tunes written for the session, sparks flew.  At the end of the tune we got into a five minute c-minor vamp, and Ran and Lyn had an amazing back and forth musical conversation/argument/agreement.  It was an honor to be in the presence of these two musicians, not to mention in the studio with them.






A soundtrack from the documentary is still in the can.  I hope someday it is mixed, because not are the tunes beautiful, but the playing is stellar, and there was a meeting of the (reggae guitarist and stream-noir pianist) minds.  
The technical specs I documented from this session on June 11 2006:  Rhodes thru Supro tube amp into Earthworks SR 69 mic.  Emeen's guitar thru fender amp into SM57.  Horns into SE Electronics Z330A.  Upright into Shure SM27.  Drum overheads - 2 Shure SM81, Snare - Electrovoice RE10, Kick AKGD112.  Bass Amp - Electrovoice RE20.  Lyn was playing a Mexican Strat going through a Fender Deville 2x12 with an SM57 on it.

15.9.08

You have to shed before you shred

Practice.  It is my temple.  Everybody does it differently.  For me, the most important thing is to pick up my instrument every day.  Noticeable improvements in my playing have not happened over night.  They happen when I develop a way to challenge myself consistently for a long period of time.  I have recently developed a way to practice scales.  This year I was introduced to the Francois Rabbath technique (vol.3) of practicing scales.  This was a finger-opener for me, as I learned to play scales up and down each string, across the neck horizontally at each position, diagonally, backwards, and in intervals.  Working through this book was wonderful, but he only covers the major and minor scale.  
As an improvisor, I need to have more than two scales up my sleeve.  So, I began using his philosophy, and applying it not only to the major and minor scales, but also all of the modes of major, minor, harmonic minor, melodic minor, gypsy scales, augmented scales, pentatonic scales, and symmetrical scales.  When I first started working through the book, I would practice one key a day.  In the morning concentrating on the fingering, and in the evening concentrating on the bowing.  This was OK when dealing with one scale at a time.  But when you want to practice all of the scales, it becomes overwhelming, corners are cut, and the muscle memory does not stick.  
I began to assign a mode to each day of the week, and played that mode in each key, going down in 4ths or up in 5ths depending on if that week I was practicing the scale from top to bottom or from bottom to top.  I would practice the scale on each string, then crossing over at different places on the neck, always to a metronome.  However, I found that there were still more scales I wanted to practice, and practicing all twelve keys every day didn't allow for enough focus.  And besides, practicing the scales should be the warm-up of the day, leaving room for learning tunes, reading, transcribing, arranging, composing, working through rhythm exercises, and crooning at the piano.  
Now, every day is assigned three scales, and two keys (a tritone apart).  The scales are always assigned to the same day, but each week brings a new set of keys.  For example, Wednesday's scales are Lydian, Harmonic minor, and Augmented.  This week I will practice these scales in B-flat and E, and next week I will practice them in F and B.  This way, every six weeks, I have practiced every scale in every key.  It also allows me to focus on two keys a day, and really get them under my fingers.  It is also convenient that the two keys are a tritone apart, because in some scales, like the diminished scales, there will be overlap.  I have it in on a chart, and each week I move over a paperclip, which tells me which keys I am to practice.
So I practice six scales a day (three scales in two different keys).  I practice them up and down, in intervals, horizontally, vertically, as arpeggios, and then I improvise on them.  Then I move on to what the bulk of my practice should be.  Right now I am working out of Oscar Stagnaro's Latin Bass Book, 
a great play-along which helps me feel rhythms and sight read.  There is also a section on some South American rhythms in a fast 5/8, which is still hard for me to feel.  I find that I am used to playing odd time signatures, like in 5 or 7, a bit slower.  When you speed it up, the feel changes, and you have to feel the "big 5" or 7, feeling everything in half notes.  I have found some Greek and Balkan music challenging for this reason.  I have also been transcribing - Slam Stewart solos off of Bird recordings, Mingus tunes from his UCLA concert.  I have been arranging - I want to play a Ravel string quartet as a duo, which is fun because I get to decide which parts are the most crucial, and which can be implied.  Composing - a couple little melodies, some with words.  My friend Ben Davis tells me he will give me a lesson in Indian and African rhythms sometime this week out of a book his teacher at the New England Conservatory published.  I also have a Astor Piazzolla score coming to me in the mail - a contrabass tune he composed called "Kicho."  
So, I have my hands full.  Less talk, more rock.

14.9.08

Basement247 Sessions

Yesterday I had the pleasure of playing electric bass on a singer-songwriter session at Basement 247 Studios in Allston, MA.  Studio owner, Jack Younger, is one of the North East's analog masters.  The sounds he gets out of his vintage mic collection, amplified by tube pre's, onto 2" tape are true butter, not this "I can't believe it's not butter" stuff you get from ProTools plugins.  I have known Jack through several renovations of his studio, and although he often warns of moving out of his basement in Lower Allston, I know he loves that room, and for me it is one of the first places I drop in when I come back to town.  He will either have a fresh track to yum yum my ear drums, a great story about a local rock band getting into a fight in the studio, or a new, custom made knob on his analog synth that you just have to check out.
Rich Foster brought some simple, yet elegant tunes to the studio to work on at the session.  His charts were clear enough that we were able to rehearse them once or twice, and then get them on tape in a couple of takes.  I had played with drummer Phillip Ouellette many times, but never together in a rhythm section.  Phil sings and plays guitar in the Beau Roland Band, who I have recorded and played some gigs with.  Jack had an ear for editing Rich's tunes, taking out an extraneous vamp or chorus here and there to tighten up the structure.  They gave me a few helpful suggestions for the bass parts, but I mostly had free reign, and the opportunity to embellish the lines where I felt appropriate.  The session had good flow, and we tracked seven tunes to tape, all live bass and drums with scratch vocals and guitar.
I was especially happy with the bass sound.  I think the last time I had a consistent set of strings on my bass was when I had the excellent Baltimore guitar luthier Philtone
set up my fender jazz bass with some flat wounds in June of 2007.  Since then, I think all four strings were of a different brand as they kept popping when I would get over-excited at space-funk gigs.  When I went to the shop earlier this week, I saw some black nylon tape-wounds on the shelf.  I had checked these strings out when Ryan Dorsey of Baltimore Hip-Hop band Soul Cannon brought them in on his bass for a recording session I engineered at the Peabody studio two years ago.  I loved the feel of them - very loose, and easy to slide around on, yet thick enough to dig my fingers into.  I didn't hear them electrified until I was at the session, going through a Fender 400PS amp to a 1960's Altec 15" cab.  They sound very even through the lower and upper register, with a good amount of pop, and just enough growl.  I was especially happy with the dynamics I could play with, and they look awesome.  The bass was recorded
 with an AT M25, through a SC50 compressor.  The drums were recorded with Coles ribbon overheads (my favorites), Sennheiser 441U on the snare, and AKG D20s on the toms and kick.  
My first experience at Basement247 was in 2004 playing with Eli "Paperboy" Reed and the True Loves.  
I had been playing with Eli, before he was known as Paperboy Reed, in High School.  I would go busking with him, Eli Keszler (drums), and Gabe Birnbaum (sax) in Harvard Square on Friday and Saturday nights, making much cash, mostly in one-dollar bills playing blues and R&B.  We put together a killing band, with Andrew Fenlon in Trombone, and Ben Jaffe on Tenor, and began to play the Boston club circuit.  We had our thing together when we got to the studio, and layed down something like eighteen tracks in two days, all live, twelve of which ended up on his first record, "Walkin' and Talkin'."   When I moved to Baltimore, I became a "part-time lover," and eventually enjoyed Eli's success from a distance, sitting in at an occasional show when I could catch him in town.  His vintage sound fit Jack's analog sensibilities.
Jack invited me back some months later to lay down some 12-string guitar tracks on his solo project, Nefarious Jack and the Naysayers.  I wrastled the guitar in tune, and overdubbed to Phillip Ouellette on Drums and Tyler Pollard on Bass, playing an almost uncomfortably slow, minor tune.  I appreciate the haunting use of Mellotron on this record.  Jack was utilizing an interesting from-the-ground-up song-building technique.  This was my first, and last session as a 12-string acoustic guitarist.  

Two other sessions at 247 I was called for were Phillip Ouellette projects.  The first, in 2004, The Beau Roland Band's "The Road to Wichita." 
Folky, alt-country, all original tunes by Phil (except for a Flaming Lips tune), tell a story of love, loss, life, and the hope associated with moving around.  
I played upright bass on this session, and my favorite tune was a country ballad, "There's a Contrast," with a line that always sticks in my head, "Cicadas/sing a heart breaking song/it's not right, it's not wrong/and the same could be said of you."
The second session Phil invited me to was a true honor, as he collaborated with his father, Dennis Ouellette, a finger-picking master of southern swing.  Phil and Dennis played guitar and sang, while I played upright bass, and Jeremy Eagle played drums.  We tracked everything live, and we recorded a few overdubs where I got to put my organ and rhodes chops to the test.  
I am very happy with the project.  My favorite track off of the Lone Oak Boys project, "Vic's Tune," tells a story of a friendship between a man and a woman.  Vic and his friend would visit every day, until a city grew up between them, and they got too old to move around much.  They would talk on the phone instead at 5pm daily without fail.  The song ends with the sound of a phone ringing off the hook.  Each ring ties that knot in the back of your throat tighter and tighter.  Just writing about the experience of recording this tune brings a tear to my eye, and reminds me why I love emoting and telling stories through music and sound.  I often get caught up in the technicality of my playing, and a project like this refreshes the soul of my craft.  

12.9.08

Superland Record is Mixed

After many months of hard work, Baltimore based funk/rock band Superland finally has a full length album ready to be mastered.  This was a milestone for the organic sound lab, as it was the first full length album for me to record and mix that I do not play a (significant) musical instrument on.  I am thankful for Superland for trusting me with their project, and they even gave me the opportunity to add my own little dub remix at the end of one of their tunes.
The first two sessions were spent tracking the rhythm section.  This was the last time we made a big noise at our old place, 310 West 30th Street in Baltimore, where we had made many, many big noises.  Because all of the instruments were electric, except for the drums, I was able to put the whole band in one room together so they could have eye contact and develop their vibe, while I strung their amps all over the house.  
The bass amp was in a closet beneath the stairs, the guitar amp was in the bathroom (I always thought bathroom reverb sounded good on guitar), the keyboard amp was in the laundry room, and Nick was laying down some scratch vocals from the dining room one floor above.
As far as the recording system went for the initial tracking session, I originally intended to use my trusty Tascam 38 8-Track reel to reel, but I found that with the amount of takes they wanted to do of each tune, and my lack of 1/2" tape stock, 
it would be necessary to go multitrack digital.  I am forever in debt to my friend and colleague Zach Herchen for lending me his Digi002 for the session.  There was a moment of panic as I had to download a different version of ProTools to run with this hardware, but it worked out.  As far as my love of tape, I have the whole session with additional room mics backed up on my cassette 4-track, which was used later in mixing.  For drum overheads I used a coincident stereo array of Shure KSM 141.  On the Kick, I used a passive 14" PA speaker, rewired, and sent through the mixer with a pad on it.  It sounds awesome.  BOOM!  SM57 on the snare.  The amps all had MXL microphones on them.  The keyboard (oh yes, "Sally" Rhodes was in full effect) ran through a fender DeVille, as did the electric guitar.
Soon after these sessions, our lease ran out at the 310 house, and thus was the end of an era.  However, it was not nearly the end of the project.  The percussion, horns, and vocals were all recorded at 2358 Eutaw Place, where I lived for my last month in Baltimore with fellow musicians Alan Munshower, MacGregor Burns, and Dervwife Dave.  For these overdubs, I mainly used a Jakelin disk (based on the Jecklin Disk) for great stereo imaging.  Mario's wah saxophone was created by dropping an SM57 inside of his horn, and sending it through an effects pedal and an amplifier.  Special shout out to Derv, who lent me his AT4022 for tracking the vocals.
I left Baltimore with a lot to mix.  Many layers of percussion, several takes of horn lines to edit, and plenty of basic tracks from the initial sessions.  I moved back to my home town, Brookline MA, and set up shop.  To test out the new studio, I first mixed some tracks left over from other Baltimore sessions that I had not yet had the chance to dive into, including an acoustic album for MacGregor Burns, and an EP for Dolphin & The AirMath
 My greatest obstacle was finding a good natural reverb.  I found that my house had too much noise in it to get good room-verb, and my guitar amp spring reverbs were picking up computer and electrical sounds.  I settled on an old TOA powered amplifier with a spring reverb unit in it.  That, in combination with an occasional digital delay, gave me enough options for playing with depth and space.  When I had settled in, the Superland mixing sessions began, and files were sent back and forth through email.  The final mixes were bounced through my Allen&Heath Mix Wizard, which gelled everything together, and warmed them up a bit with those nice British electronics.  In the future, I would prefer to mix in the same city as the band.  Modern technology makes distance more convenient, but there is no substitute for several sets of ears listening in the same room.

11.9.08

Forest Music

I have conceived an idea that could link together my interests in music, recording, and the environment.  The working title is "Forest Music."  The concept is that composers and songwriters would be commissioned to write music for small acoustic ensembles to be dedicated to a specific forest in North America.  For example, a chamber music composer may compose a quartet for Yosemite, the first movement dedicated to the trees, the second to the stream, the third to the mountain.  This music would be rehearsed, and then musicians would go into these forests with their instruments, a recording engineer with field recording gear, and a videographer.  The product would be a video with excellent audio of beautiful music performed inside of, and dedicated to, the forest.  
To take it one step further, an ornithologist would be invited to work on the project.  This person would determine which birds would be in the region, and would go with a sound engineer to the locations to record the birds.  The recordings of the bird calls would be brought to the composers and songwriters to be included in the compositions.  The project would be limited to small acoustic ensembles because of the obvious logistical considerations.  However, the genre of music does not have to be limited to chamber music - it could include improvisors, singer-songwriters, etc. - that way the project is accessible to many aesthetic tastes.  The message through all the music would be the same - that these natural places are worth saving because they are homes to the creatures who live in them, and they are beautiful not only visually, but also aurally.