Many of you will know the name Bobby Owsinski from the several recording and production books he has authored over the years. His texts are common resources at recording schools. I’ve used some of his writing in my own production courses, at the high-school level.
Not surprisingly Owsinski, has a blog, well worth reading regularly:
http://bobbyowsinski.blogspot.com/
In today’s music-making climate, to suggest that the recording studio should be considered an “instrument”—no less a compositional tool than the piano or guitar—is a bit like saying the world is round, digital files will supplant CDs, and the demise of the traditional record industry is imminent. It’s one of those blithe claims someone makes at a cocktail party—like “isn’t it cold of late”—to which everyone within earshot inanely nods.
What follows is a rather lengthy preamble to an amusing video. If you’re not feeling the rant, skip ahead to the link and circle back for my discursive remarks.
If you’re a recording engineer, mixer, producer—or even hobbyist—you’ve almost certainly been involved at one point or another in the mother of all music-production debates. No, I don’t mean Beatles or Stones, Les Paul or Strat, Neve or API, or even (for you real geeks) U47 or Tele 251. I’m talking about a dispute far more divisive, far more inflammatory, and far more prone to bluster and propaganda: Digidesign or, well…every other gear manufacturer.
A former student emailed today about recommendations for video tutorials. He’s an electronica aficionado (current obsession: Thievery Corporation), just outfitting his first studio, and seeking greater proficiency with Logic Studio.
So, here’s a quick Monday night post (as the Ravens try to catch the Packers in the chill at Green Bay) adding to yesterday’s list of resources for aspiring engineers and producers.
There’s a legion of video tutorials out there —some streaming or available for download, some that arrive packaged to your door. I’ve sampled a few…
These days, everyone with a laptop, USB microphone, and rudimentary DAW program feels qualified to call himself a producer or recording engineer. And such democratization of music production is, in the broad view, a good thing, I think, though it has lead to an undeniable glut of individuals claiming production expertise that they, more than likely, do not have.
That said, a full analysis of the blurring line between professional and amateur music “producers” (and I use that term in its broadest sense, to include music “makers” of all stripes, and not merely the traditional overseers of a recording project sanctioned by a major label) is not the aim of this post.
Avatar
In a world where more and more commercial studios are closing—especially larger facilities, owing to their considerable overhead—a few classic studios still manage to thrive. New York’s Avatar is one of those studios. It’s history is as storied as any recording venue on the planet (it was once the Power Station), but you don’t need to take my word for it, simply consult their blog:
Last week brought to conclusion my work on New York singer-songwriter Billy Simons‘ latest album, Music For The Motion Picture.
Billy’s sound straddles pop, rock, folk, and even a bit of country. His acoustic-driven tunes are inventive and well-crafted. While I’m inspired as much as anyone by “indie” acts, Billy’s work provides a welcome alternative to the legions of Brooklyn Vegan-sanctioned scenesters emerging daily from L-train stops in Williamsburg. Look, I’m a huge fan of Grizzly Bear, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and (especially) The National. But there’s a place on my playlist for songs like Billy’s, as well—tunes that are refreshing in their earnestness, their refusal to hide in ironic detachment, their humor, accessibility, and authenticity. Plus, the record was a complete blast to make.
