oh, to be you

I'm now at the stage of life where I hear lots of interesting things from my peers, in the way of their ideas about the world.  The mid-thirties are a weird time of thinking you know what you're doing, all the while living with the secret fear that you have no idea at all.  It's different from your twenties when the fear has not yet presented itself; you're just an obnoxious know-it-all who does and says appalling things with no idea that you'll regret ninety percent of it later.  I have a sneaking suspicion that the forties will be about simply accepting that we have no clue.  I'm kind of looking forward to it, I'm not going to lie.  Because, you know what I hear a lot of these days?  Dudes talking about how much they "can't listen to (insert awesome album of yesteryear here) because it just doesn't sound any good".  I know way too many recording engineers.  And only three of them are exempt from this rant.

I don't claim to be an engineer, and I'm not claiming to know every single thing about sonic values, pre-amps, compressors or mics.  I'm just a musician who makes records.  I have recorded myself as well as other people and we've all survived it.  That said, I've been listening to music pretty much every second of my life since birth, and I just finally need to say this: HEY SUPER UNKNOWN "ENGINEERS", GET OVER YOURSELVES.  I recently heard some smack talked about a band that I hold in the highest of musical esteems, the Smiths.  Now, I understand what goes on with the Smiths, kids.  I know Morrissey can be a bit dramatic and even maudlin at times.  I don't think he would dispute that claim.  Perhaps Johnny Marr's guitar style isn't for you (in which case you might be deaf, but, hey).  I can even almost handle the idea that not everyone needs to know the thirty-thousand words to 'Cemetry Gates'.  Almost.  But, if you're going to tell me that the reason you've never given that group's music a chance is that you don't like the sounds they got, in 1987?  I'll meet you behind the school at 3:15.  Be ready to fight.

This opens up a whole can of what-the-hell for me.  Because, where does it end?  What's the criteria for acceptably recorded and/or produced material?  Does it have to be from 1990 or later?  Does it have to be un-famous?  Is a song or album without merit if the quality of the actual recording is below this undefined standard?  If any of that is true, it's just total mayhem in my mind.  Some of my very favorite music was made in what may well have been a garage or bathroom, and I love it just the same.  Without even touching on the vast expanses of great music made throughout the ages, I can find fault with this short-sighted approach when applied the last twenty-five years of punk, new wave, electronica, rock and pop music.  Let's take Operation Ivy's one record, for instance.  I don't know a single person in my generation that didn't live for that album.  Not only did it merge fast, sloppy punk with upbeat ska sensibilities, but the song subjects spanned everything from hot girls, to music in general, to coming together as opposed to always being separated by bullshit.  So WHAT if it sounds like it was recorded in a living room with maybe two mics with socks over them?  On the other end of the spectrum in 1989, we had Pretty Hate Machine by Nine Inch Nails.  I can't pretend to know how this record was made, but in my mind, Trent Reznor recorded it on some Tim Burton-esque machinery in his mother's basement, while wearing a leather dress.  When you look at it through that filter, it's the best album ever made, miraculous even.  But even if you don't, are you going to really sit here and tell me that the songs didn't change your life when you were fourteen?  That you didn't sulk in your room with bad eye make-up on, shrieking along to 'Head Like A Hole'?  Were you just born up above it?  Well, now you're down in it.

This brings me to my favorite part of those who suffer with acute cases of Engineeritis: lack of valid output.  Every single one of the people who complains about great music for sport makes nothing of the kind.  This is not to say that they're not all musicians - because they surely are.  They all wanted to be rock stars, whether they'd admit that or not.  Somewhere along the line, the fear took hold and they started recording more than they played out.  It might have started with close friends' bands, and then expanded to the circle around those folks, and so on.  Before they had a chance to notice, years had gone by, they'd gained thirty pounds and many moons had come and gone since they'd been on a stage.  Alas, they still make a record of their own from time to time.  The songs are uninspired and safe, the vocals are drowned in effects, but damn it - that three thousand dollar pre-amp makes the guitars sound just perfect.  Exactly six people own copies of said album, and the bitterness in the heart of the Sad Engineer Guy continues to grow.  They resent all who are not as afraid as they are, and they continue to criticize all who take the chances they never did.

The quickest way to tell an expert from a wannabe is this: the experts would never claim to be such.  I've had the immense pleasure of having my last two albums mastered by a proper genius by the name of Doug Sax.  That dude has worked on more great music than can be listed.  He has the frickin' Lifetime Achievement Grammy, know what I'm sayin'?  And everytime I've been around him, he's been interested in what I'm doing and how I'm doing it.  He doesn't act like I'm a fool for making records at my house with whatever gear I can scrounge together (most of which is borrowed from Gary Paczosa - another genius).  He asks thoughtful questions and tells me what he likes, and where he thinks I can do better next time.  The man's all class.  The two engineers that I've worked with who's styles and philosophies I LOVE, are still rocking out.  They're getting up there and exposing their guts just like everybody else.  That's why they rule to work with.  They're not judging the plays from the sidelines; they're still in the game.  They don't act like they know it all; they're still learning.  I hope I'm never done learning.  I hope I always listen to music and love it so much that it makes me scream, cry and flip out.  It's a gift, pals.  A gift.

The truly great ones among us just do what they do, because they have to do it, not because it might measure up to the Imaginary Standard of the Hate Brigade.  Regardless of whether or not their music is what you're into, the sounds are not the point.  The message, energy and innovation are the points.  You can spend the rest of your life tinkering around in your caves with your toys (all of which will be obsolete, at some point), but you're not changing anything in the world.  You're not saving anyone's life, least of all your own.  To quote the very best:

"Don't forget the songs that made you cry, and the songs that saved your life... 
Yes, you're older now, and you're a clever swine, but they were the only ones who ever stood by you."

 ~Morrissey/Marr of the Smiths
(That's right - the goddamned Smiths.  What.)
 

Keep on creating.  Use what you have.  Believe in yourself.

Thanks for listening,
~buick audra