Time to stock up on iodine pills?
Once again I buggered up recordings cos I forgot to switch the Zoom from Mic to Line on returning home. Started a promising recording too. Oddly, the ambient test one I made the other day with the S-4 does seem to have benefitted from the background noises. It was interesting anyway so we'll see if it still sounds good tomorrow.
I sometimes get asked things like "what do you do?" then "why do you do it?", "how do you do it?" and, most interestingly, "yeah but, after all these decades, haven't you exhausted the possibilities, doesn’t it get boring?"
As an exercise, I thought I might try and explain myself, partly to discover if I know the answers. So here goes...
Primarily, I make music and I record it. That’s what it’s all about and always has been. Learning to play an instrument, compose, arrange, mix and understand complex technical matters are all secondary – in the same way that learning to quickly mix the colours or choose brushes are secondary to the art of making a painting. All are, however, vital parts of the process. Should I say The Process? Nah, too pompous, right? Incidentally, to quickly deal with the ‘why?’, I make music because it offers a pleasure refuge and a meditational state I treasure and find to be unique.
I've been doing this for almost fifty years now and it's very probable my best work was made years, perhaps decades, ago. Statistically, that has to be true – but does it render the work pointless? Certainly in terms of keeping the old grey matter working, the creative juices flowing and adding extra meaning to life, I'd argue that when you’re older is when art has the greatest importance. But let's not get all philosophical.
AFAIK this topic rarely comes up in interviews, so I thought I'd sit and write up my process to see if it sheds any light on the whole business. I don’t know quite how to pitch it but would welcome similar efforts from others, in as much or as little detail as makes sense. I'm known to be a bit of a windbag so this could be longish...
The Process
Given my aim is to record something that's either finished or suitable as input for future iterations of the process, there are certain conditions necessary before anything meaningful can happen. First and foremost is time – contiguous chunks of sweet, sweet time. The process is like a forest – it works beautifully until you start dividing it up, putting roads through and generally fucking with it. In practical terms, four uninterrupted hours is a good minimum – and I mean this. It’s best if I don’t interact with anyone at all so I can stay completely in the zone. Pray nobody rings or knocks on the door. If I have the house to myself, 6-7 hours would be typical (and joyous).
Having cleared the schedule, the next important step is to know which part of the studio I'll be working in and therefore which selection of instruments I’ll be playing with, thus setting the 'flavour' the day will have. Long ago I realised that I only work effectively if I reduce my options drastically to prevent being overwhelmed by choice. I therefore divided up my space into four areas – five if you include the Mac and Logic, which I rarely use these days.
Typically, if I have some new gear I'm learning or an exciting update has happened to something, I might concentrate on that but if I have no preference, I roll a 4-sided dice and allow it to dictate where I begin. Lately I've been using Setup 3 quite a lot because I recently moved it around a bit, added a Korg Opsix and a Torso S-4 (which I'm reviewing, or will once it is stable enough). This was the setup used for the recent Cyclical Festival.
For a long time I avoided Setup 3, because it was a bit unwieldy and because I was a bit frustrated by a few parts of it. OK, I still am but until someone makes a sequencer with true linear focus that’s going to continue.
Actually, it may be worth looking at what is in each 'setup' so it's a bit clearer what I'm on about as the details matter here. Each has been shaped over many years and contains elements that can be easily swapped in and out without changing the way the whole organism functions. I don’t like gear that obstructs me and gets between the idea and the output, so I choose things that suit this approach. And by moving things around, I keep it fresh and avoid constantly starting over with something new that slows down the whole process.
Typically, a setup will have a main sequencer, some synths, at least one mixer, some effects and a means of recording. Setups 1-3 are in the same room and share the recorder (a Zoom) while setup 4 is in a different space (with a different Zoom) and is typically my live jam room for Headshock sessions. It has better light, a place for Tim's instruments and so on.
Setup 1
The Elektron Digitone is the master clock with a Sequentix P3 in support, mostly driving a Roland JD-XA. There are three loopers – a Roland RC-505 & Soma Cosmos (more of a soup-maker than a looper really) and a Boss DD-20, plus a lush OTO Bam reverb and an analogue delay. This setup has grown somewhat and now has two submixers and my Casio piano is drafted in when needed. The main synths I play are the JD-XA, Memotron and Osmose and I capture chunks into a 1010music BlackBox or record live into the Zoom. A lot of my more ambient or ‘classical’ material comes from here as well as the more ambient-focused sequencing.
Setup 2
The modular corner. Its main sequencer is the Arturia Keystep Pro Chroma (synced to the Digitone). It shares a mixer and clock source with setup 1 but powers up only those parts needed for the modulars and synth modules involved. The main instruments here are the Korg MS20, Waldorf Blofeld, Behringer Model D and Cat and the various parts of the Eurorack that I still use. Oh, and the Synthi is here too, although it can be used anywhere quite easily. This is the simplest setup of all and it's not uncommon to spend the entire afternoon lost in the special world of the Synthi with supporting noises from the modular. It also has access to the OTO Bam, DD-20 and ADR30 delay and I tend to kneel on the floor on a cushion due to space considerations, like some spaced-out Buddha. When feeling very indulgent it can be fired up with setup 1 and this is how the last two Morphic Resonance livestreaming sets were done.
Setup 3
The Cirklon setup, which has most of my drums in and tends to lead to more conventional output with percussion, sequences, melodies and some kind of structure. Gear swaps in and out of here the most too, alternating things like the Odyssey, Minimoog, SH-101 and V-Synth as well as the Super 6, JV-2080, System 8 and Memotron. Many drum machines come and go but the mainstay is the Vermona DRM-1, programmed from Cirklon. This section has two mixers (the Spirit with its nice EQ handles indivdual drum processing) and a lot of effects, some of which swap in and out while others are used as inserts with the DRM. My GR-1 is here at the moment doing its granular wonders and the S-4 I'll tell you about once the review is finished. There's another DD-20 here too as well as a Line 6 HX One acting as a looper and general effects for the Super 6. It's still the most complex setup, with a Blackbox capturing loops and putting together arrangements that I'd love to see possible in Cirklon one day (I may not live to see this, however). I'm currently still exploring the Opsix so I'm using this setup quite a lot lately, often finding out ways to crash the fecker. But I digress.
Setup 4
The Octatrack setup, also featuring an Akai MPC, Analog Four, MIDICake Arp and RC-505 mk2 - for capturing performances I need to line up reliably. Main synths are the Roland System 8, Korg Minilogue XD, Proteus 2000 and Akai Minifreak. It has a single mixer but as Tim's stuff is here too, he has a submixer for his gear, which varies according to what he brings along for our weekly sessions. A Jupiter 6 is the main beastie. Another Blackbox (yes there are three!) captures loops, jams and anything we fancy and a Zoom R24 is the main recorder. If I’m working here alone I leave Tim’s stuff powered off, unless I need the Jupiter.
OK, that was probably longer than it needed to be but hopefully worth it in terms of illustrating the different workspaces and therefore the different approaches needed for each. All have a central clock that sets the tempo for the session. I do play freely without any tempo but for any groove-type material, the common clock is essential to keep the Blackbox recordings and RC-505 loopers working nicely. When I am working without grooves/sequences, my default tempo is 120BPM.
Having picked a place to work, swapped in any gear I want to add for that session and powered everything up, I'll usually think of a name to use. Cirklon helps here as it has an auto name generator and if working on a Headshock session we'll find a random name from somewhere online. When alone I'll think of a word or words – anything to avoid using dates or other characterless naming standards. A proper name adds its own flavour and the sooner you have one of those, the sooner ideas can start forming around it. It doesn’t matter if the name isn’t the eventual title either, but it’s the proverbial grit around which a pearl can start to form.
Sometimes I indulge in my Musical Dice Game if I want to use randomness to decide things like scale, tempo and so on but ordinarily I don't decide these immediately, they become apparent as the session develops.
Yay, we’re ready to go!
OK, it’s time to open a beer, fire up the Volcano, eat a magic sweetie, whatever. As I get into my correct mental state, I might chuck a few random noises into one of the loopers, set a weird patch going on the Synthi, kick off a sequence in the P3 or find any of a dozen fast ways of breaking the silence. This initial soup is useful and can set the course for the entire afternoon – even if it eventually isn’t captured or used. At this stage, I might wander around the house for a while with my new brew going in the background, hinting and suggesting things to my subconscious. I might sit at the piano and play a few things that could fit in, or twiddle some of the controls of the Super 6 or Odyssey, all of which will stay in my mind according to their value. However it happens, something will start to emerge out of the murk. All I need to do then is nudge it gently and see where it wants to go.
Naturally, there can be false starts, all of which are fine because you can build on them just as easily. I might begin a P3 sequence that just doesn't go anywhere or sounds like a million other things – which is also fine, I'll just start a new P3 track with new sounds and move on, or move to a different instrument in the setup. Assuming the luxury of no interruptions, something good always happens. I might wander to find some chocolate and, as I move around the house, hear the note that, if changed, would make a bland pattern interesting. Or I might get a hint of a musical phrase that would fit, or a chord progression that would take it somewhere. A groove might be needed, which can be a whole other diversion. I might realise the whole thing is just too slow or too fast or too dense or whatever.
Sometimes you play something and it's just perfect, then and there. At such a point I'll capture it into the Blackbox and make sure I have it in its raw, unbuggered-up form. Endless fiddling can turn an original idea into the same old thing that you’ve heard a million times before. I tend to carry on with something a bit ‘wrong’ for as long as I can bear it rather than immediately tame it. Anyway, the combination of elements, the name, the atmosphere should all, by this time, be starting to become something. I now have the choice of whether to try and capture all the individual parts into the Blackbox or fire up the Zoom and go for a complete take.
This decision-making part is important. Do I want to go for a complete live jam of the ideas so far or make smaller, more concise sections I might glue together later? Do I need to work on something that could be better/different? Almost always I choose the live jam, thus avoiding the need to fire up the Mac later. Before going for a take, I usually whiz around the setup performing last minute level checks, noise checks and so on but in general I try and treat it like a live performance. After all, I'm going direct to stereo here so it needs to be right first time. I think this approach adds a certain something but it is also fraught with dangers – e.g. I can't fix a bum note, I can't remove a too-persistent loop or extract that one sequence too many.
In accepting these limitations, I know that I will throw away material that could be saved if I worked differently, even good material. I don't have a means of easily doing linear arrangements, at least not with the granularity of a DAW where I could painstakingly fix every last detail, make last minute adjustments, refine endlessly. My way is all or nothing really - and the main aspects I can control require that I record lots of sections into the BlackBox and arrange them either live or using the BB's own sequencer (too small and fiddly so I rarely bother).
I produce so much music that if something isn't totally satisfactory, I tend to scrap it rather than try to rescue it. Good ideas will resurface later anyway because nothing is truly lost; whatever I do feeds the process. It's a constant cycle of learning the things I can do spontaneously and those I can't quite pull off yet. (Next time I might be better or I may try something different.) At any moment I might play it safe or go wild – and only sober listens afterwards tell me what has truly worked.
Having recorded my thing I might go on to record alternate versions of it, especially if I feel I didn't quite say everything I wanted, or if a new idea has just occurred. I try and make each piece complete in itself and include as much development as needed for it to stand alone. Sometimes I start with a theme in mind and each piece is seen as part of a larger whole (e.g. the AI album). In such cases I'm aware of what has gone before and what might be needed as part of the overall structure.
I keep lots of folders on my 'audition' memory stick and by playing them at different times, the good stuff tends to make itself known and those pieces that need to be retired are soon moved to the “lesser works” folder. You may have noticed I sometimes post things online (usually to my WilyEPeyote bandcamp rather than Soundcloud these days) so I can ask a few friends what they think. And sometimes pieces take just too many listens before they start to make sense even to me. Bandcamp makes it easy to put out loads of material but having a selection available on my stick unpublished is also good – often a piece I thought was a failure actually works when framed by something else much later, or if I trim out that long intro I thought was great initially but now realise is bloody annoying.
The process feeds itself in many ways, not least in the way it tunes my tolerance for my own output and prompts when new directions or methodologies are needed. On occasion I've produced pieces of music that are then used as fodder for further processing and which become minor elements in new works. For example, I've created many ambient bridge pieces and elaborate grooves that sit forever waiting in machines like the Octatrack, GR-1, 505, BB etc. ready to be called upon when the time is right. Some days all I make are a few loops or samples – typically if time is tight or I run into technical problems. But generally, give me a full Friday afternoon or a few days by myself and I can always make something I'm happy with, which makes it all worthwhile - even after so many years apparently repeating myself.
Oddly, I'm still shit at making videos. I think it's because my process has formed around the idea of being fully committed to music-making, which leaves absolutely no mental space left for setting up cameras, faffing with computers, drivers, flaky software, lighting and all that stuff. I'm trying to get better but as I'm already operating at capacity, I wouldn't be too hopeful of ever getting slick in this regard.
I should probably edit this. And I bet I've forgotten loads. Maybe it’s a good read for insomniacs? If necessary, my apologies.
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