We arrive to find the studio occupied by, apparently from their appearance, a group of twenty year old mountain men. They looked like a sixties stoner band with massive beards, but this was 2009 and the music I heard on playback could only be described as “crippling depression”. They were over on their booked time and apparently from the look on the engineer’s face, they had long overstayed their welcome. While in the middle of putting the final touches on the last mix an argument broke out about the level of the vocals.
“You’re right” I said agreeing with the singer, “they are way too loud. If it were me, artistically speaking, I would bury them. Keep em real low and add a little more effects.”
If I thought they were smarter I would have masked my sarcasm a bit more.
“Yeah, exactly!” said the singer. “F--- you guys.” He added and pulled the fader down.
Personally, I would have hit the mute button. That would have brought his warbling out of key excuse for a melody down to an acceptable level, but that’s just me. My work in the control room was done. John, the engineer, shot me a knowing look and I walked back into the live room to check on the equipment load in. I have worked with John before, way back when I had label backing and a big budget. Similarly John was at a nice full service studio in LA at the time. Half the reason I am here is for John. Finding a good engineer is like finding oil. Anyone can make a record these days; in a basement or a living room or a spare bedroom. But I can’t do that. I have to stretch out on a couch behind a big old nice console and listen. It’s a privilege to spend time in a nice studio. It’s like any thing in life; if you drive a Ferrari every day then it’s just another car. If you get to drive one once a year, it becomes something more.
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