When we met, working with David Bianco on the Black Lab record, I hadn't gotten into recording at that point. I was interested in it, and I had dabbled a bit, but my interest in recording happened while making that record.
It was fantastic working with David, wasn't it?
Yes. How did you make your way to San Francisco?
For a year, I worked at a studio in Baltimore, Maryland. It was a great experience there, but I wanted to move somewhere where there was a bit more established industry and music scene. At the time, people would go to New York, L.A., or Nashville. Nashville, oddly enough, in my mind was not even in the race, because I only thought of that as country music. Even though I do like some older country music, it wasn't where I wanted to be. New York wasn't the environment I thought I wanted to be in either, because I'm not a city kid. I thought, "Well, I'm going to go to L.A. and check that out." My studio manager in Baltimore had come from the Bay Area, and he suggested that I also go and look at studio jobs there. I went to L.A. and didn't dig it there or like the people I met. I got hired at Different Fur Studios in San Francisco in August of 1988. On the eighth day; so 8/8/88.
You came from a much more British, teaboy-on-up path.
Absolutely. There's a lot of information that's shared. I've come up with this little thought lately, that just because you know how to use a tool doesn't mean that you know when to use a tool. A lot of people who are starting out feel empowered by all the knowledge they have, and their exposure to this gear, but at the end of the day it's about people skills, and understanding what your personality and demeanor needs to be around people, and also not having too strong of a personality in any one situation. You always have to adapt. The environment is meant to make the artist comfortable and bring the best out of the artist. That becomes a conversation with the artist and producer. Everybody else is trying to follow their lead. Some people don't understand how to adapt their personality and presence to fit those different situations. Sometimes, as an engineer, or assistant engineer, you're invited to be more assertive. That's desired in a group setting, but it's not always that way. People haven't been mentored.
Can you talk a little bit about that "people" portion of production? You're at a point now where you get to pick and choose, to some degree.
To some degree, sure.
Are you making your decisions on who you work with based on the people, the music, or both?
It's definitely a combination. I've redirected myself in the past couple few years. When you find success, dealing with it is also hard. There's always a rise and fall to your success, and it's an adjustment, because people start telling you how great you are. We all want recognition, and to be told we're doing a good job. That's human nature. Records selling and people being familiar with your discography, and having some impact, of course that's part of it; but if you want to have a sustained career and actually be happy with what you're doing, you've got to do it for the right reasons. That success becomes more internal. Even at the time I worked with you guys [Black Lab], you guys needed to do a few B-sides for your album and you asked me to co-produce and engineer them.
Right.
That was an acknowledgement. I felt successful; my hard work ethic, my being ready, being prepared, being a good person to be around, and trying to contribute to the group – the reward I got for that was, "Can you help us?" As you go through a career, you have to make that transition from being viewed as the second engineer, to being in the engineer's chair, and then getting to mix and produce. You always have to be breaking the mold. Those are the successes I've had, too.
How was that transition for you? Where did it happen?
I've been producing all along, all the way. Producing unsigned and local bands. The Kings of Leon's Only by the Night is the record [for me]. That's when I was a producer, engineer, and mixer on that, as successful as it was, that solidified me as someone to look at as a producer.
How did that happen?
I became friends with Ethan Johns [Tape Op #49]. We had the same manager. We were introduced and became friendly. He was going to make a record, and he wanted to be away from the engineer's chair for a little bit. That was right before the second Kings of Leon record, Aha Shake Heartbreak. He asked me to stay on and help engineer that record, and that's where I got to know those guys. I wasn't involved in the third record [Because of the Times], and after three records, I think their relationship with Ethan had run its course. Much in the same way as you guys had identified me as somebody who's skilled and a good hang, they invited me back. I was very excited about that. I knew there was a big opportunity there for them, especially putting Caleb's [Followill] singing and his vocal performance more at the forefront. I think that's one of the reasons that record was a big change for them. They're an incredible band, but it was hard for a wider audience to get into the music, because you couldn't understand all the lyrics.
Was that a conscious decision going into it and something you guys talked about?
It was for me. I didn't mention it to him that it was something that was important to me. Up until that point, most of the vocals on the Kings' records were sung live. The only song on Aha Shake Heartbreak that was overdubbed vocal, or re-cut, was a song called "The Bucket." The rest were live vocals. We got to Only by the Night, and I got him to sing the song three or four times as an overdub.
With a band like this, do you feel you're trying to get in there and monkey wrench, or are you keeping it on the rails?
It depends. With them it's a little bit of everything. This is true of most records. There are the songs that you need to push back against, criticize, tear down, build back up, challenge performances, and say, "It doesn't feel finished" or, "That part can be better." Then you're pushing back on them more. Sometimes it's just going in there and saying, "You're doing great. This is awesome." Being a cheerleader and making sure that the technical side of it is transparent and feels inspired. The spirit of the experience – sometimes it's hard; sometimes tears are shed and voices are raised in the studio, because it's emotionally charged. Everybody has a high expectation of what they want the outcome to be, and it's not always easy. I always try to foster an environment of comfort, empowerment, and trust. I try to never yell and scream. I've gotten upset sometimes in the studio, but I try to be direct and honest.
Yeah. I think people appreciate the honesty from someone they respect.
Of course. That's why they ask. That's being a friend, and that's being genuine.
It's difficult to be an artist and put yourself out there. It takes a unique person to do it, and I think it takes an even bigger person to be able to accept criticism effectively.
Oh, absolutely. As a producer, you have to understand the environment and get to know the people you're working with, as well as knowing when it's the right time to say something and deliver a criticism. If vocal takes aren't going as great as you think they should, pursue it. But don't make a big deal out of it, and don't spend too much time doing it. Allow it to happen, and maybe talk about it the next day.
It's some tact.
You need to be very tactful. The thing is, sometimes you have to let bad things go on for a little bit so they run their course and you don't overreact to it.
That's the art of it. Do you still enjoy engineering? Do you like having that responsibility, as well as production?
I do. The last two or three years, I've been redirecting myself a little bit. I haven't been the primary engineer on my records for the last six years. There are select moments where I did that. I've been feeling, lately, that I want to get back to that. It's challenging. It's a tough job. I have energy and drive, but it's different from when I was in my mid-30s and early-40s. Kolton Lee has helped me for the past couple of years as a main engineer. We co-engineer. I let him do a lot on his own. He's wonderful. The most recent record I've been making was with a band called Bishop Gunn, and I'm doing it all. I also got away from mixing all my records. I've had the privilege and pleasure of working with Michael Brauer [Tape Op #131], Andrew Scheps [#133], Manny Marroquin [#109], Rich Costey, and Spike Stent. They're friends, and I love what they do; they're so talented. They did an amazing job with my productions, but I missed it too. It becomes something different. If I let go a bit, I want it to represent them; but recently I've been wanting to get back to doing it all.
The reason I ask is because sometimes when you're so involved in the technical aspect of it, your focus can narrow as opposed to sitting back and being more of a listener, as well as managing the personalities and the big picture as a producer. I love that part of joining the band and being able to not have my blood pressure going up when something's wrong technically.
