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by
Jeff Webber
The record executive picked up the phone on the third ring. He never wanted
to appear too anxious. "Hey Bob, we start tracking Holly's record this
morning at 11. Why don't you fall by the studio at 11:30 and we will give
you the first single, ready to go." The executive said, "What are you
talking about?" "No time to explain now, just get down here if you can."
And then the record producer hung up. The executive thought for a moment
and then decided to show up. It had been quite some time since he had
been in a studio.

When he got to
the studio, the usual preparations were taking place but he noticed the
vibe was far more intense than he expected. The studio was full of musicians
and singers. He counted four keyboard players, six background singers,
the artist (singing), three guitarists, bass, drums, two percussionists,
and a small string quartet. Oh yes, he just then heard three horns. He
noticed a vitality to the music that he had not experienced before at
the many other sessions he had attended in the past. There was a sound
he felt, rather than heard, and an immediacy to the music that got under
his skin.

Was the song
that good, he wondered? Was the singer delivering the goods? She sounded
more emotional, more dramatic, and more believable. Even he believed her.
And why did the track sound so damn good, so clean, so dynamic, so in
his face? He noticed that his body started moving with the beat. What
was that shit all about, he wondered. After twenty years of making music,
he never responded this way to music. What in the hell was going on?

And then it was
over.

The producer
conferred with the engineer and the associate producer and then motioned
for everyone to come into the control room and listen to the track. As
everyone crowded into the control room, the exec noticed that the players
and the singers were excited about the music, really excited. The playback
started and suddenly everyone was moving. It was contagious and even he
started getting into the groove again. The players and singers were yelling
and screaming at what they heard. Why were they so genuinely excited?

And then it was
over.

Everyone filed
out and the producer presented the exec with a DAT copy of the song, ready
for mastering. The exec had this dumbfounded look on his face and the
producer just chuckled. He explained that the track was recorded live
to two tracks, with no mixing, editing, or overdubbing. The executive
still shook his head with wonder.

Years ago, the
producer explained, there were only two tracks. This, of course, was a
dramatic improvement of mono. As the recording studio became more and
more technically sophisticated, additional tracks became slowly available
and the microscopic examination of recording music began. Soon, artists
began to be seduced by the availability of studio technology to such an
extent that the artists, in pursuit of musical perfection, forgot that
music was the collective dissemination of emotion in the form of musical
stories. Making music had become a series of isolated overdubs with the
heart mixed right out of the recording. The singer often never even saw
the band. Often, the band never even saw each other. They were just brought
in individually and their parts were recorded separately and then all
the various parts were assembled like some sort of prefab housing.

Wrong.

Live two-track
recording allows a group of musicians and singers to simply do what they
love to do, to make music. Performance is their perfection. Not technique.
Not technology. The result of the process is a track that is sonically
superior, emotionally satisfying, and financially responsible.

With no mixing,
editing, or overdubbing, you save a generation in the process and the
product becomes more intense, more vital, more revealing. Knowing that
the track is being recorded live in a controlled environment forces everyone
to be on top of his or her game. They are intensely focused and the result
is a far more emotional producta clear result from the joy of playing
together. This emotional surplus is the bridge that has always connected
the artist with the listener. When you start groovin', in any way, with
any part of your body, you have connected with some part of the song.
Everybody wins. Best of all, if it takes three or four days to record
the project in its entirety, when everyone looks at the recording budget,
you're a hero.

Is live two-track
recording a dangerous way to go? Sure. Is it for everyone? Of course not.
But how else can one retain the energy of a live performance in a controlled
environment? Multi-track recording is a poor substitute for storing the
emotion of a song. If a musician believes in his own ability and does
not have to rely on studio trickery to create artistry, live two-track
recording is a monumental achievement. "It is not for everybody, but for
me, it is the epitome of the musical process," the producer explained.

The executive
left the studio, dazed from having to listen to that religious zealot
of a producer, and exhausted from the emotional energy he expended just
listening to the music. Yet he was energized, and he knew it was from
what he had just experienced. He smiled.

And then it was
over.

(P. S. This is
a true story...)
Jeff Weber is a twenty-year industry veteran who has produced over 120
CDs with releases on every major label as well as a host of independent
labels. He's picked up two Grammys with another seven nominations along
the way. Nancy Wilson, Jackson Browne, Michael McDonald, Luther Vandross,
David Benoit, Tim Weisberg, Kenny Rankin, Diane Schuur, Luis Conte, Jeff
Berlin, Maynard Ferguson, Lalo Schifrin, Freddy Hubbard, and Sarah Vaughn
are just a few of the artists he has produced.
 Oh, and Jeff
is also on TAXI's A&R Staff.

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