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Empowering the Next Generation of Women in Audio

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Three Ways to Ruin the Call

In my opinion as an experienced hiring manager, there are three ways someone could quickly ruin their chance for work with an organization.  Someone could even ruin their chances before the event start. So, as you may be looking to get a new gig or join a new crew, I advise not making these three mistakes.

No call, no show

If you no call, no show – it is a clear sign to a hiring manager that you cannot balance your schedule and you’ve proven to be unreliable. You won’t be hired back. Plus now you’ve just left the team in a lurch, one person down.  If you can’t fulfill your commitment, let your contact know immediately. Also, make sure that you communicate in advance if you know early enough and even consider providing contact names of others who might be able to fill your spot. Most of all, if it is short notice when you’re unable to get to the shift, make sure to have a strong reason as to why.  The hiring manager could consider you again in the future if you have a valid reason and are apologetic regarding the situation. If they never hear from you, you’ll never hear from them again.

Negative attitude

If you arrive at a first gig with a company or group and immediately are negative, you are stepping out on the wrong foot right away. It takes a lot of energy to create a crew and negative energy even from one person can bring everyone down. Being negative is a way to not get invited back. We all know events and production is tough work, and the schedule rarely allows for enough time to get it done reasonably. Adding a negative air to the situation does not help.  Approach a new environment with a positive go-getter attitude. Take a minute to analyze how the crew works together and see how you fit into the program. This will help you connect with the crew as well as be remembered as a positive force and someone the crew would love to work with again.

Don’t act like a know-it-all

Acting like a know, it all can also ruin the call. Face it – no one likes a know-it-all, so don’t be that person.  If you can offer advice or experience to help with problem-solving a situation, by all means, contribute your ideas. However, as a new person to the crew, you are not going to know it all, and these actions can be off-putting to the existing crew.  Offer advice where you can and make sure to ask questions along the way. Each crew will do things slightly differently, so if you aren’t sure, there is no harm in asking. Especially if it is going to save you and the crew time in redoing something later.  You’ll also develop relationships with the crew faster by communicating and working with them, then trying to prove you know everything.

Each person has earned their spot on the crew, work with them to earn yours as well. Make sure to show up on time, be ready for what the day will give you, and ask questions along the way.

 

 

The Sound of Steampunk

Creating a Flying Machine for an Audio Drama

One of the things which I love most about sound design for audio drama is the opportunity it can bring to create entirely new, fantastic sounds. Sounds for creations or beings that don’t exist in our world.

Having worked in sound design and mixing both for short films and voice-based productions, I’ve always thought that creating the sound of imaginary beings or machines for audio drama is both more freeing and more challenging than for visual media. You’re not tied to a physical representation and the obligation to be able to hear everything you see, but you only have audio to “sell” the creation to the listener. Using a processed version of a crocodile combined with your pitch-shifted voice might work brilliantly as the roar massive bear creature in a game, but in an audio drama, the listener may find it hard to believe that sound came from a bear.

I’ve just finished sound designing and mixing the second season of a steampunk audio drama. The writer/director had included several imaginary beings, creatures, and machines in the script, so from the get-go, I knew I would need to dedicate some time to breathing aural life into these creations.

One of these, and probably my favourite to work on, was the fixed-wing flivver. The writer described it like this:

“The flivver is a homage to an early fictional airplane, from H.G. Wells’ ‘The War in the Air.’ It’s more or less like a biplane but powered by different technology – in this case, probably including an aetheric battery – so its turbine whine would sound different. It might also be in some ways less and in other ways more advanced in terms of the aeronauticals.”

This description gave me a starting point for research and sourcing of raw material. I’d be looking at early 20th century biplanes and whatever an aetheric battery was – more on that in a minute.

I also knew that I’d have to consider how the flivver sounded from different perspectives. Reviewing the scripts, I noted that I needed six different variations:

– distant perspective, external (heard in the distance from a rooftop)

– close perspective, flying flat, internal (seated in the aircraft)

– close perspective, steep climb, internal (seated in the aircraft)

– close perspective, circling, internal (seated in the aircraft)

– close perspective, leveling out, internal (seated in the aircraft)

– medium perspective, departing, external (heard from the perspective of outside the aircraft as it departs)

My first piece of research was the sound of early 20th century biplanes. The purchase of high-quality sound library recordings was beyond the budget of the production, so I turned to YouTube as the most likely place to find any recordings of this kind of aircraft. As you’d expect, most videos were from airshows, which meant additional wind noise, crowd walla and applause and occasional commentary.

The amount of noise present in the videos wasn’t too much of an issue. I didn’t want a modern(-ish) biplane sound to be too present in the final sound as the technology didn’t match the steampunk aesthetic. But, I did need enough of it so that the flivver was easily aurally identifiable as a flying machine. It took a combination of finding enough of the right sound, and some careful editing and noise reduction.

After a lot of listening, decided that the sound of the Bleriot XI was the best fit for the base layer of the flivver sound:

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RkJymMK33Zk

 

Next, I needed to add a core engine sound – an engine powered by an aetheric battery, no less. Aetheric energy, as I discovered, is based on a theory developed in the late 1800s by Nikola Tesla, which proposed that the human race could harness the power of the ether (a space-filling medium present all around us) as a source of energy. Ether theories lost popularity as modern physics advanced, so the sound of an aetheric battery is now as speculative as the original theory.

However, there is an invention of Tesla’s that’s still used today to demonstrate principles of electricity and whenever you want to do impressive high voltage displays: the Tesla coil. In the absence of any concrete idea of what aetheric energy might sound like, this seemed a reasonable, and suitably steampunk, alternative. I ended up using a pitched sound of a medium-sized Tesla coil, with an ascending version for when the flivver is climbing. To suggest the kind of mechanics that we associate with steampunk technology, I finally added the sound of a vintage sewing machine.

When I sent the first draft of the flivver to the writer, he felt something was missing – “a sort of insect-like aspect described by Wells, where he talks about the craft’s resemblance to a dragonfly:

“Parts of the apparatus were spinning very rapidly, and gave one a hazy effect of transparent wings.”

I tried various insect whines and flutters and eventually settled on adding the sound of dragonfly wings.

Here’s the finished sound

And in the context of the drama

My next audio drama design and mixing project take me to medieval Europe, which is quite a change of pace! But I hope I’ll be revisiting the world of steampunk audio drama, and its fascinating design opportunities, again soon.

The Perfect Moment

In the last couple of weeks, I have had some really good and interesting conversations with sound engineers, musicians, family & friends about waiting for the right moment. It seems that no matter what career path we have taken in life, we seem to have one thing in common.

We think that we one day will feel like we are ready, but the truth is; we never will feel like we are. There always seems to be an excuse to why we should not do something because we do not feel confident enough.

I would never have gotten to where I am today if I was waiting for the perfect moment, that moment when I would feel ready. Even now, I still feel like I am not ready, but I now also know that I probably never will be! Because how else will we learn if we do not challenge ourselves and throw ourselves into the deep end?

I have done FOH sound at so many gigs where I just felt like I was not competent enough. However, I said yes, I went for it because I knew that I otherwise would not learn and get to where I wanted to be, and I wanted it so badly. And in the end, I was competent enough, because otherwise I would not have been offered the job in the first place. I think we all know a little bit more than we give ourselves credit for.

Being confident is a struggle. Especially when you are young. But at some point, you have to start trusting yourself and your abilities, because if you do not trust yourself, well then, who will? The only trust that I carry with me every day is that I know that no matter what happens, I will come up with a solution. It does not matter how, but what does matter is that at the end of the day, I do my job and I make it happen.

Let us start making excuses for why we should do things and not wait for the ‘right’ moment. Take a leap, trust your knowledge and admit your flaws. Know what you need to work on, put yourself out there. Take that chance and make it happen. If you feel insecure, that is OK, we all feel insecure at times. But that does not mean that you do not know what you are doing. That does not mean that you do not have the ability to make something happen. Do not wait around for that perfect moment, just do it.

 

Grow Your Ears for Music

Imagine if, on the first day of school, your teacher had stood up and said “Look, we’re going to try this thing called reading. It isn’t for everyone. Some of you will just have an eye for words, and some of you won’t. If you find you don’t have the knack, you might as well just leave it.” I like to think that would be greeted with a bunch of toddlers falling over laughing, but you would expect that questions would be asked about the teacher’s career choice at the very least. It is absolutely ridiculous to think that the ability to read is predetermined and cut and dry, so why do we listen to people who say only those with an ear for music can become great sound engineers?

The jury is still out on whether there is such a thing as an innate, genetic talent for hearing and music. Even if there is, the thing about genes is they very, very rarely account for the whole spectrum of differences amongst the population. A gene might give you a head start, but the environment in which you grow up can influence the development of that skill as much, often more. Even for child prodigies, an initial flair gets nurtured (or perhaps smothered) by parental encouragement and hours upon hours of daily practice. It is much the same with sound engineering. Some people might take to it quicker than others, but everyone benefits from practice and study. A skill being hard-earned does not negate its value, otherwise, why would we bother going to school? When I started out I was in awe of what my more experienced colleagues could pick out in a mix, and how quickly they could not only detect but identify the cause of a problem. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do it. I’m still far from perfect, but there are plenty of sounds I don’t even think about how to fix now; I’ve heard them so many times I automatically know what to do. I’m still discovering new aspects of my favourite songs that I’ve listened to since I was a teenager. Fancier professional earphones can only partly explain that!

So where has this belief that only the golden-eared chosen few can make it in the music industry come from? I suspect it’s people who have been told all their lives that they have an ear for music. When people do well, they like to find logical reasons for that success. The special gifts that they are born with, combined with what they feel was hard work, mean they deserve everything they have earned. Of course, they often do, but too few people acknowledge the roles that the help of others and luck play in a field as fickle and competitive as ours. Similarly, if you don’t make it, it is easy to say that you simply weren’t cut out for it, that you didn’t have a good enough ear. Only successful people want to believe that they live in a meritocracy. In reality, it takes the support and advice of countless colleagues and a big chunk of luck, in addition to skill and determination, to get your break. However, this doesn’t mean you should give up now. You can work to improve your knowledge and skillset and grab as many opportunities as you can. Put yourself in the path of luck as often as possible and be ready when it hits.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m not one for baseless positive thinking. I don’t think we can all become astronauts, as long as we simply believe in ourselves: there aren’t enough shuttles, and someone has to do all the other less exciting jobs. However, someone does have to be an astronaut. Someone has to mix that fantastic up-and-coming band. Someone has to system engineer that stadium tour. Someone has to do all those myriad jobs that don’t get as much attention but can be just as satisfying (and often better paid!) like RF tech, comms tech, or installation engineer. Who gets to decide? Your school music teacher? That lighting guy? Some blogger? What do they know? Even if an ear for music is encoded in your chromosomes, are they suddenly geneticists? How did they get a sample of your DNA anyway? Don’t be put off by other engineers telling you that you don’t have what it takes either. However subconsciously, they are reassuring themselves that they deserve to be where they are and are trying to protect themselves from the competition.

In research on geniuses, one of the most important factors is their passion for their subject, known as the ‘rage to master.’ They study and practice so intensely not just because they’ve been made to, but because they want to because they must. They don’t feel right if they aren’t working on their “thing.” The author Hunter S. Thompson once wrote a brilliant letter when he had been asked for life advice, in which he advocates finding a lifestyle you enjoy and creating a career around it, rather than the other way round: “The goal is absolutely secondary: it is the functioning toward the goal which is important.” Let’s be honest, sound engineering is competitive, but you don’t need to be a genius. If sound is what you love, don’t wait for some authority to tell you that you have what it takes, to give you permission to do it. Decide now that you are one of those special people, and just do it. The Department of Who Does and Doesn’t Have an Ear for Music will never know. Maybe you won’t make a living out of it, but the only way to find out is to put yourself out there, learn, practice and improve. Even if you never get a gig bigger than the local bar, if no one hears your mixes, if no one subscribes to your podcasts, the important thing is that you enjoyed the process, and so the net positivity of the whole world is up.

 

Catherine Vericolli – Owner, Operator, and Manager of Fivethirteen

Catherine Vericolli has been working in professional audio since 2003 and is the owner, operator, and manager of Fivethirteen a professional recording studio in Phoneix, Arizona. In her spare time, she teaches audio at the Conservatory of Recording Arts and Sciences in Tempe, AZ, co-edits Pink Noise Magazine and speaks on industry-related panels.

Catherine grew up on 80’s radio and MTV, discovering Metallica and Michael Jackson, while her mom listened to Fleetwood Mac on repeat, complimented by her dad listening to the Carpenters. She was a record collector at an early age and fascinated by how albums could sound so different from one another, especially those released by the same band. She also obsessed with liner notes, and how many people were involved in the creating the album. She also wondered about the recording process. “Records were my books. Much later as a student, I was hooked after a “wave characteristics and the properties of hearing” course. I was pretty much in head first from there.”

Catherine did not initially pursue audio engineering as a career but knew she wanted to work in music. Attempts to understand music theory and realizing she was only a mediocre drummer would lead her tour the campus of The Conservatory of Recording Arts and Sciences. Her parents supported her choice to go into professional audio and says she learned that if she could explain “how a compressor works to my 86 year old Dad, I can explain it to anyone.”

The rest of Catherine’s education and training came from making “tons of mistakes and figure it out” training, which in my opinion is worth twice its weight in gold over any other educational environment. For me, this came with various internship situations and building a studio when I was 23. I’m still learning, and still making mistakes! Just maybe not as many.”

After graduating from The Conservatory, Catherine decided to stay in her hometown and create a comfortable, quality, and professional recording space for her friends and musicians in the local scene. On her way to working as engineer full-time and launching Five Thirteen, Catherine had several odd jobs, from “manual labor to coffee slinging early on while things were being built, etc. They were more placeholders than anything. I had a record store gig that I loved but inevitably spent my whole check on used records that came in, so- not great for my wallet but pretty nice for my collection. I dabbled a bit in live sound gigs when I was younger, but I always felt like I didn’t have the time I needed to get it right! I realized that working on my toes wasn’t nearly as comfy as sitting in a control room with time to tinker. Still to this day I look at live sound folks and am in awe. It isn’t easy. Nowadays I teach audio on the side. Most of the pro audio folks here in Phoenix do. Teaching is rewarding but can suck more out of me than a lot of records I work on. Again, another thing I’m in awe of- full-time teachers. That isn’t easy either.”

Fivethirteen is coming up on their 12 year anniversary and keeps Catherine busy. She is a jack of all trades, managing, engineering, operating all aspects of the studio. She has headed up all console installation and outboard wiring since the first console 2” machine. Catherine considers herself an analog purist and the studio has a nice selection of analog gear.

Catherine is an editor of Pink Noise Mag, (which is currently on hiatus) dedicated to increasing the diversity of voices speaking about record making and to fostering an intellectual tradition to accompany the practice of record making. Pink Noise grew out of the frustration with the persistent male-dominance and chauvinism in the recording scene. The publication has an unabashedly feminist slant.

What do you like best about your job?

Tough question, mostly because my answer is always changing. I think early on I enjoyed seeing a project through from start to finish- simple engineering. This was before I had a staff, or anyone to bounce ideas off of. Later on, I was super into room designing and tech work.

When we built our mixing suite add-on in 2006, most of my focus shifted to getting this right, and the engineering workload went mostly to the staff. I still really love this side of studio ownership. Being able to troubleshoot a problem on the fly successfully can be just as rewarding as anything else. Most of what I enjoy now lies more on the production side of things. I’ve never really been into computers in the control room, so I always try and grab the physical gear first- outboard, tape machines, etc. Now that I have the time to keep all of the analog stuff up to par, it’s easy to incorporate them into any existing project. These days I can pick and choose what projects to get into. I get to spend more time with my staff, bounce around ideas, and the most rewarding thing- I get to watch them grow. It’s great. I also have a lot more time to focus directly on the client. I probably enjoy this the most. The people side of things is really where the magic lies.

What do you like least?

Mixing. I’ve never been a fan, especially now that so much happens in the box. I love tracking. It’s really easy for me to keep things simple while capturing. When I’m mixing, I find myself wanting to click on all the things… like what does this crazy plugin do? Is it faster? Easier?? and that’s my “nope” moment. Most of the time I “track to mix,” so my mixes aren’t that much different than my final rough at the end of a tracking day. Clients sometimes ask: “Aren’t you going to use all the plugins?” …. No. No, I’m not. Most things that sound good, sound good from the start. At least that’s my experience. For me, simplicity is key.

What are your long-term goals?

I don’t have any specific things in mind, other than to be able to continue to support myself financially and to contribute positively to the industry. I travel a ton for various audio endeavors, and I really enjoy it. I’d like to do more of this long-term, and continue to learn from folks in the industry that I admire. There’s so much going on in pro audio that I don’t know anything about! For example, I have an awesome friend that does incredible restoration work, and I’d love to learn more about that.

What if any obstacles or barriers have you faced?

I think anyone who chooses pro audio as a career faces obstacles or barriers. Personal, financial, social… the list goes on. It’s not a very forgiving industry. I think for me honestly, the biggest barrier I’ve faced is my location. Phoenix is a very tough market. Sort of a desert island if you can forgive the pun. We have a pretty measurable lack of community due to the fact that we’re such a young city, and all spread out over a giant geographical area. There is yet to be a “musicianship bar” set, meaning the amount of hours you have to put into your craft isn’t as many as you might have to in order to be successful in larger markets. This leads to a more uneducated clientele in general. Things like pre-production are rarely included in budgets. This leads to more unrealistic exceptions when it comes to time, quality, and cost. There’s a “fast” / “cheap” / “good” vin diagram out there somewhere….

How have you dealt with them?

The best way I’ve found to deal with the fore-mentioned obstacle, in particular, is to travel as much as possible. The more I get involved in things outside of my market, the more I learn. I always come back with more tools and ideas to better educate my clients, which always leads to better recordings.

Advice you have for other women and young women who wish to enter the field?

My advice for women or young women who want to get into pro audio is the same advice I’d give to anyone: Be good to yourself. If you’re not comfortable in a situation for any reason, it’s ok to do the best thing for yourself. Meaning, there are lots of opportunities out there, and it’s ok to find the one that’s right for you. Find a facility, mentor, or gig that treats you the way you want to be treated. Otherwise, it’s not a fruitful learning environment.

Must have skills?

An unyielding willingness to learn, and the ability to greet failure as a gift, are KEY. Also never underestimate the importance of being kind. Whenever someone asks me what I think “the one thing” is to being successful in this industry, the very first thing that always comes to mind is don’t be an asshole. Crude, but so so true.

Do you have a few stories you can tell that have taught you valuable skills? Whether industry people skills or tech skills?

Years ago I was asked to be on a panel at a pretty well attended audio conference. It was my first one. I was super nervous about the whole idea and didn’t feel at all like I belonged there. Basically, the whole experience for me was pretty terrifying. I didn’t really know anyone, so it overall it was an uncomfortable atmosphere, not to mention I was the only woman on the panel. Afterwards, I got chatting with an established, Grammy-winning engineer who basically said. “Look, no one really knows what they’re doing. We’re all just trying to figure it out. We’re all just winging it. You’re doing great.” I was like whoa, seriously? It was a life-changing moment for me in my career. That engineer ended up becoming a wonderful friend, and I’m still very lucky to have him around to remind me that I’m doing alright. Another side note to this story is that much later I met a young female engineer who was doing a ton of bad ass amazing things. She started a killer publication dedicated to featuring women in audio and ended up opening a studio of her own. She gave a speech in PA that I was lucky to attend where she told a story about a life-changing moment that she had when she saw a woman on an audio panel. That woman was me, and it was that same panel. Pretty amazing when life-changing moments come full circle.

Do you ever feel pressure to be more technical or anything else than your male counterparts?

No. I never feel pressure to be anything more than I want for myself. I should add, that this is a learned position that doesn’t always come naturally. It comes from acceptance and experience, and it’s definitely not always a luxury.

Is there anything about paying your dues you wish you would have paid more attention to that came back to haunt you later in your career?

Totally. Not having a mentor is the first thing that comes to mind. I’m lucky now to have a whole handful of mentors that always offer great advice, but if I had made this a priority early on, I think I would have had a lot more confidence as a young engineer. I would probably have a lot more confidence now!

What are your favorite plugins or equipment?

None of my favorite things are plugins. I do however have a short list of things that make engineering very enjoyable for me. Coles ribbon mics, pretty much everything Rupert Neve Designs makes (top of that list is our 5088 console), and our Studer A80 1/2” deck.

 

Keeping it Real Section 3 – Mixing IEMS in 3D

Section 1

Section 2

Until now, the physical constraints of IEMs – sound being delivered direct to our eardrums – has given us no way to experience the nuances of sound localisation. The fact that our moulds are in the ear means that we miss out on the out-of-body arrival of sounds and the information we glean from the travel of those sound waves around our heads and bodies.

Until now.

I recently had the pleasure of road-testing a stunning 3D in-ear monitoring system from German company Klang. My experience has convinced me that this is the next great leap forward for in-ears, almost as much of a game-changer as the 1990s introduction of IEMs in the first place, or the evolution from analogue to digital desks.

Think of a standard, high-quality stereo in-ear mix. You perceive the mix elements panned in varying degrees from dead centre all the way out to the peripheries of your ears. Maybe you’ve created some sense of depth with the different levels and EQ of those elements, maybe some atmosphere with reverbs, but that’s about as much as you can do.

Now imagine that you could take your ear moulds out and hear all of those elements placed around you acoustically in three dimensions. The relative volumes are the same, but all of a sudden there’s a sense of space and freedom as you liberate yourself from cramming all of those mix elements into the limited confines of the space between your ears. The detail in the sound of each instrument suddenly becomes a high-definition experience as inputs in similar frequency ranges no longer battle for space; some sounds feel as though they’re high in the air; others close to the ground; some are behind you; whilst others are at distances far beyond your arm’s reach.

That’s what it feels like to switch from a stereo mix to Klang 3D.

(Incidentally, going back the other way feels a bit like flying business and then returning to economy. Honestly, these guys have ruined stereo for me for life!)

Klang has used vast amounts of binaural hearing data to emulate what happens at a listener’s ear when the source is coming from outside the body. This data, gathered in lengthy experiments involving dummy heads with tiny microphones placed at the entrance to the ear to ‘hear’ sounds from different places, has enabled them to create an incredibly realistic 3D experience for in-ear monitoring. It is like virtual reality for the ears, but it’s more than that – it’s an ideal-world natural stage sound.

The Klang model combines all that we know about the nature of sound localisation – inter-aural time differences, inter-aural level differences, comb-filtering – with the subtle changes that we experience in frequency perception according to a sound’s location, to allow the monitor engineer to ‘place’ different inputs in various areas around the listener’s head in a 3D spectrum. The incredibly user-friendly interface depicts (on a laptop or more easily still, the touch-screen of an iPad) two different views of the listener’s environment: a bird’s eye view of the top of the head, where instruments appear to be on a virtual ring around your head, allowing you to place them not only to the left and the right but also in front and behind your head; and a landscape view which allows you to move them vertically – above and below your head.As you move inputs around using the touch screen, you feel as though they are indeed coming from a different three-dimensional location, due to the way the Klang unit subtly alters the sound using binaural hearing data.

So with all this newfound space, you can now place instruments wherever you like. While it seems obvious at first to place instruments on the orbit where you actually see them on stage, this is only one possible placement method.

Our brains determine the importance of a sound according to where it is coming from. Right in front of you, and elevated slightly higher than your own head, is perceived as of paramount importance, so it makes sense to put the listener’s own instrument and/or vocal here. Interestingly, I found that a critical sound positioned here didn’t require as much volume as the same sound centre-panned in a stereo mix – making it great news for anyone who requires some elements very loud, such as a drummer and their click.

We perceive sounds from slightly behind us with a wide left/right span as being less important, but still worth paying attention to; so for a singer I found this a good place to put keys and synth sounds, as well as a stereo electric guitar. Strings worked really well placed high and wide for an airy, slightly ethereal feel; and bass and kick felt good placed lower and directly behind me. Pitching information signals such as backing vocals and piano seemed most natural and effective placed evenly panned to the front, but narrower and lower than the strings.

The Klang Fabrik takes up to 56 inputs, and it was interesting to note that I could be even more flexible with my mixing by leaving some inputs (such as talk mics, which call for no special artistic treatment) out of the Klang domain. I simply brought the Klang outputs back into my console where I subbed them into an aux buss, to which I then added the talk mics and anything I didn’t need in the 3D arena. This retained all of the fantastic space and detail of the 3D mix, whilst allowing total freedom in the number of utility inputs.

The Klang app is free to download and comes with a demo track – all you have to do is plug your in-ears or headphones in and you can move the track inputs around and experience 3D sound for yourself. I highly recommend starting by listening in stereo (the app gives you the choice) and then switching to 3D for an A/B test – the difference really is astounding, akin to throwing open the shutters in a dark room!

I’m extremely excited to be taking a Klang system out on my next tour, and I know that the artist and band are going to be delighted by the whole new in-ear experience that this offers. The detail, space and musicality that it offers, make for a truly transformative mix. The only drawback is that they, too, will find themselves ruined for stereo for life!

The Magic of Records

I love discovering fresh and exciting new music. But I often find myself fatigued in the search for it and end up putting on something older—usually Louis Armstrong or Gary Davis. After years of studying and trying my hand at music production and songwriting, my brain and ears are easily distracted dissecting these parts in new music. If nothing in a record really “grabs” me, I’m unable to listen passively. Instead, I’m listening for ideas and inspiration. I imagine that people working in film and TV have very similar experiences when watching movies and television.

The reason older music doesn’t distract me as much isn’t because I think it’s better. Rather, it’s because the production is simple, and there is not much to dissect. Using audio technology to create records with complex auditory experiences has not always been the goal of record-makers, i.e., producers. The earliest recording we know of is a wax cylinder recording of “Au Clair de la Lune” from 1860. The record is one barely audible voice. At this point, audio recordings were literally a form of preservation—a record-keeping device.

 

Musical preservation has existed in many forms (including the folk revival of the 1960s and the many, many attempts made by Western anthropologists to “understand” African music), but the least retrospective of these was probably the blues recordings made in the 1920s and 30s. At this time in America, there was a huge effort to preserve the songs of the Mississippi Delta, Appalachia and other song-heavy regions, as one generation of musicians and storytellers died out, and a new era of recording technology was becoming the norm. After blues and folk came jazz recordings, which eventually led to bebop, and then (by no small force of culture, story-telling, and talent) rock came shortly after that.

Until rock, there wasn’t much anyone could do as a recording “engineer” beyond capturing the beauty of the music. There are stories about New Orleans big bands bunching together and taking turns getting closer to the single microphone for their solos during their recording sessions. For all intents and purposes, this process is a form of production but is simple compared to what was to come a short time after.

Music production can only be as complex as the technology available at the time. Thusly, we see music production shift as audio technology shifts and, like technology, exponentially. Reverb and other time-based effects, multi-tracking, amp distortion, compression as a creative tool, the speed and efficacy of computers in music production—in this shortlist we have traveled from the 1950s to today!

In trying to pinpoint the moment I started hearing production in music, the earliest memory I can find is hearing Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. At the time I was playing guitar and singing in a band that had similar instruments that are on the album, including an accordion and saw. I had spent a little bit of time recording in a small studio outside of my small town, as a 15-year-old at-home dabbler of Garageband.  The engineer, his assistant and I were re-recording four of my home demos (my guitar teacher had entered my recordings into a contest the studio was having, and I had unwittingly won the contest). I noticed how much time and effort it took to achieve a desired sound in the studio. We need to record the guitar part; are we plugging it directly into the computer? (Regarding guitars, the answer is almost always no.) Are we going to mic an amp in the big live room? Are we going to mic an amp in the isolation room? What amp are we going to use? What guitar are we going to use? How do we capture all the stuff we like about the demo, but somehow also make it better? And on and on for every sound.

In The Aeroplane Over The Sea cover art

The production played no small role in In The Aeroplane Over The Sea’s staying power. In the 21st century, there is a big difference between putting a microphone in a room and recording a band bunched up around it, and using multiple tracks, compression, vocal doubling, and arranging found sound noise to create an atmosphere that is reminiscent of a time and place, but isn’t literally a time or place (it’s a record). In The Aeroplane Over The Sea blends folk, noise and rock music and maintains a lo-fi quality, but is never messy or unprofessional. Also, it was not expected to be as popular as it was. The magic of this record is that the listener can experience the grittiness that songwriter and bandleader Jeff Mangum exhibited throughout all of his work and life, in the format of a record that sounds good to our ears.

The magic of records is that our ears are part of our culture, too. Even though most listeners of music are not trained in music production, their ears are discerning. They want a new perspective. They want something real. They want something fresh that can tell us a story about our world and lives.

So producers. Let’s make some magic records.

 

Editors Note: Folklorist Alan Lomax spent his career documenting folk music traditions from around the world. Now thousands of the songs and interviews he recorded are available for free online, many for the first time. It’s part of what Lomax envisioned for the collection — long before the age of the Internet.

How to Mix Using Multiple Reference Monitors

And not drive yourself crazy

When I first started mixing, it sometimes felt like I was redoing my work over and over until I hit my deadline and was forced to stop. My mix process back then was mixing through my main speakers (full-range) then switching to small speakers for a pass. Then, I’d switch back to my main speakers and find a totally different set of problems. I’d do a pass-through a third set of speakers, and it’d open up another can of worms.

It was very hard to trust my mix decisions. I didn’t trust the rooms I was working in. I didn’t trust my speakers. I sometimes questioned my ears or ability. When there’s that much doubt how are you ever able to make a decision? You can’t. Constantly questioning what is “right” slows down the mix process severely.

From a mixing perspective, nearly every room is flawed in some way. There’s room resonances, bass management issues, less than ideal speaker placement, noise, reflections, or phase issues. Even a room that’s tuned by a great acoustician and considered flat can have 6dB variance or more! The only way to trust a room (or monitors) is to accept a room for what it is.

First and foremost, it helps to reduce as many changing variables as possible. Mix as much as you can in the same room using one set of references monitors. Think of it as your “home base.” The goal is to have a setup that you trust – not because it sounds amazing but because you know its quirks and flaws and strengths.

As you mix, make a mental note of things you notice, like, what frequencies are you always EQing? When you pan, is the imaging clear or muddy? Critical listening is about observation without judgment. Once you make judgments (especially that a mix sounds better or worse depending on the environment, plugin, etc.) it can turn into a psychological game. This is when you start questioning your speakers, room, and yourself.

Some of the best advice I’ve ever received about mixing is “mix, however, makes you comfortable.” Auratones speakers (a standard found in many post-production mix rooms) make my ears ring, so I don’t use them. If I mix through a television set, I listen at the same level I listen to tv at home. I quit mixing full-range at 82 dB (which I find uncomfortably loud sometimes) and closer to 78 dB or even lower on occasion. What I gain in confidence by listening at a comfortable level far outweighs what I lose sonically (by not mixing at the nominal calibrated level for a mix room).

Working in different rooms and monitoring situations can be used to your advantage. When I’m working on a film, I sometimes prefer to edit on headphones (especially to treat pops, clicks, unwanted noises). I like to do my detail EQ work and noise reduction in a room with near-field monitors (like a home studio). This allows you to hear detail that might be lost working in a theatrical mix stage. If I can work on a theatrical stage, that’s the best place to deal with bass management (like mixing to the subwoofer) and mixing in 5.1.

In post-production, we don’t just change monitors, but we sometimes change rooms completely. On top of it, the final mix might be going to a movie theater, television (Bluray, Video on Demand), and eventually online (to laptop or cell phone listeners). We’ve got 5.1 and stereo to consider (or even deeper into 3D Immersive Audio). Many projects don’t have the budget to do separate mixes so sometimes you have to make decisions that are good for one listening environment and bad for another. I find as a mixer I’m happier if I do one mix that I am really happy with versus trying to find a middle ground. I tend to cater to the audience that will have the most views.

It’s good to ask yourself, “what am I trying to achieve by changing monitors?” I don’t change monitors anymore unless there’s a specific reason, such as:

There’s definitely value in changing how you listen. I change my listening level a lot when I’m mixing film scores to hear how the mix sounds in context against dialog. If I’m mixing in 5.1, I might switch to the stereo to see how something I’ve mixed translates that way. I might listen through a tv or my phone if there’s a specific question or need for it.

A big part of learning to mix well is learning how to mix poorly, too. How often do you go back to an old mix and think, “that really sucked!” but at the time you thought it was great? We do what sounds “right” until we find something new that sounds right. There are times you have to accept that your mix is the best you’re going to do that day. Tomorrow is a new day, a new mix, and a chance to do something different

Ser bilingüe no siempre funciona

Por Andrea Arenas / Colaboración Vanessa Montilla

Es posible que hayas hecho varios cursos de idiomas. Sin embargo nada te prepara para trabajar el día a día como ingeniero de sonido, si estás de gira en un país donde se habla un idioma diferente a tu idioma materno. Es probable que por más cursos que hagas, en ninguno te hayan enseñado como le dicen a “peinar los cables”, y así a muchas palabras del argot técnico e inclusive del cotidiano.

Es por eso que he decidido hacer un pequeño glosario de objetos utilizados comúnmente en el audio pero que posiblemente no encontrarás en ningún libro de diseño de sistemas o de técnicas de grabación, y que por lo tanto no estás acostumbrado a utilizar en un idioma diferente al tuyo. Espero les sea útil y que además podamos completarlo entre todos en diferentes idiomas.

Cables /

Conectores/Connectors

Audio

 

Electricidad / Electrics

Herramientas / Tools / Gadgets

Artículos de oficina / Office supplies

Acciones / Actions

Instrumentos musicales / Musical instruments

Medidas / Mesurements

1.5m 5 feet
3m 10 feet
7.6m 25 feet
15m 50 feet
30m 100 feet
50m 165 feet
100m 330 feet
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