Issue 177

1960s British music aficionados are likely familiar with many of the era’s historic music venues, including London’s Marquee Club and Saville Theater. Devout Beatles’ fans are likely to include in the mix Liverpool’s Cavern Club and Hamburg’s Kaiserkeller, where the boys honed their skills playing six hours a night, seven days a week.

Though not nearly as well known – especially among music fans on this side of the pond – was another venerable club with the very peculiar sounding name of Klooks Kleek.

From 1961 to 1970, Klooks Kleek operated as a jazz and blues club on the first floor of the Railway Hotel in northwest London. The club was founded by Geoff Williams and Dick Jordan, the former handling administrative duties and the latter club bookings. Jordan was the public face of the club. Known for his wry sense of humor, Jordan was a film cameraman by day and a club impresario by night.

The owners appropriated the club’s name from a 1956 jazz album by drummer Kenny “Klook” Clarke called Klook’s Clique. You’ll note Clarke’s album title is appropriately punctuated in the singular possessive, while the club’s name (Klooks Kleek) is devoid of any punctuation, to the dismay of English teachers everywhere.

With carpeted floors and walls curtained in red velvet, Klooks (or The Kleek, as some referred to it) provided fairly good acoustics, though still lacking in many of the accoutrements commonly found in modern-day music venues. The club didn’t have sound boards, sound engineers or even provide for band sound checks. The club’s stage was crudely constructed of sheets of plywood propped by wooden crates. The expectation was bands would show up, plug-in and play…and that they did!

Patrons wishing to attend a show at Klooks had to first become “club members.” Club membership wasn’t considered elite or economically challenging, as a lifetime membership only cost a mere shilling. Of course, members had to additionally purchase a ticket to any desired performance, with prices varying by artist.

Klooks early offerings focused on contemporary jazz music, until American R&B began to strongly permeate the London music scene. The club formally shifted its booking strategy to R&B in 1964. Legendary blues artists like Sonny Boy Williamson, John Lee Hooker, Howlin’ Wolf and T-Bone Walker played the club, while John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers very first album release – John Mayall Plays John Mayall (Decca, 1965) – was recorded live at the club the same year.

The mid to late 1960s led to lots of experimentation among London-based musicians, with many soon-to-be well-known artists jamming with other soon-to-be well-known artists. It was like musical chairs or speed dating, with musicians seeking both great sound and strong band chemistry.  Money and fame, yet to be realized by many, if any, were usurped by a love of craft. The notion that artists could achieve economic success, or even stability for that matter, was hardly a conscious thought. For the performers, it was all about the music.

Here’s a smattering of interesting performances and artist pairings that took place at Klooks:

– Appearing frequently at the club was the Graham Bond Organisation. The late Bond was a skilled vocalist, keyboard and sax player. His backing band consisted of Ginger Baker on drums, Jack Bruce on bass, John McLaughlin on guitar and Dick Heckstall-Smith on saxophone.

– In 1965 Rod Stewart’s Soul Agents opened for Buddy Guy at Klooks. Shortly thereafter Stewart joined Shotgun Express, with Peter Green on guitar and Mick Fleetwood on drums.

– A year later, 15-year old “Little” Stevie Wonder (that’s how he was billed) played the club.

John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers Live at Klooks Kleek, album cover.

– Cream (frequently billed as “The Cream”) played Klooks in August 1966. Proprietor Williams remembers drummer Ginger Baker asking, “how much money will the band be paid this evening?” When Williams replied 89 (British) pounds, Baker was quite pleased, as his band’s previous pay was only 50 pounds.

– In 1967 a young keyboard player named Reg Dwight (aka Elton John) played Klooks with his band Bluesology. That was the same year the original Fleetwood Mac with Peter Green, John McVie and Mick Fleetwood played the club.

– Led Zeppelin played Klooks once in April 1969.

Ad for Led Zeppelin’s appearance at Klooks Kleek. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/public domain.

– Jimi Hendrix was never formally booked at Klooks, but he nonetheless did play there one evening. It was a period when manager Chas Chandler was showcasing Jimi all around London, and creating quite a buzz. During a break in John Mayall’s set Jimi borrowed a guitar from Mick Taylor and promptly took the stage.

Proprietors Williams and Jordan frequently utilized humor in promotional materials to differentiate Klooks from other London-based clubs. They also organized playful field trips and contests, including a 1962 members’ only photo contest. The contest judges were in the music business or employed in other creative crafts, including a photographer who specialized in nudes. The contest’s grand prize was 10 (British) pounds, with the winning photograph published in Melody Maker, a leading British weekly music magazine.

Williams and Jordan understood the importance of marketing and creating a unique brand image for their club. Other club owners would frequently complain about the large amount of free publicity Melody Maker gave to Klooks. Said Jordan, “I made frequent trips to their editorial offices in Covent Garden with bottles of scotch. I was told by someone at the magazine that Klooks was the only club that appreciated the art of giving.”

Jordan often liked to share amusing stories about Klooks. As he tells it, one evening two Decca Records executives entered the club and asked for opinions on two songs recorded by a contract singer of theirs named Tom Woodward. One song was greatly preferred over the other, and when it was released in 1965 under the artist’s new stage name, Tom Jones, “It’s Not Unusual” went to Number 1.

Klooks was fortuitously located right next to the studios of Decca Records. As a result, many music executives, producers and engineers often frequented the club. Aspiring musicians were very eager to showcase their wares, knowing that a titan of industry (or two) might be in the audience. Decca Studios’ close proximity also meant, if desired, that the label could produce live recordings from the club by creatively rigging cables and wires over the roofs of the two adjoining buildings.

Decca Studios and Klooks Kleek by Dick Weindling and Marianne Colloms, book cover.

My first exposure to Klooks Kleek was via the classic Ten Years After LP Undead (Deram, 1968), recorded live at the club. The genesis of that album has an interesting backstory.

In the late 1960s, proprietor and promoter Bill Graham wanted to book Ten Years After (TYA) at his Fillmore West and recently opened Fillmore East venues. But the band didn’t have a new album release to tour behind, considered a prerequisite at the time for going on the road. So TYA quickly decided to record a live album at Klooks, with the goal of distributing the LP solely to the US market.

In the words of TYA’s bass player Leo Lyons, “We didn’t have time for a new studio album, so we did a live album instead. The sound engineers moved a large sound board to the back of the Decca Studios’ complex, and retrofitted limiters, echo and reverb. They then threw cables and wires across the roof (from the Decca building) to the club.”

Club owner Dick Jordan introduces TYA on the recording. Knowing the plan was to release the live album exclusively in the US, Jordan humored the audience a bit about British accents, with the expectation his self-deprecating remarks would be edited from the final mix. It didn’t quite turn out that way. Here’s Jordan’s introduction as it appears on the live album:

“Ladies and gentlemen, as you know, this is going onto the air. If I speak like a cockney, maybe the Americans think everyone talks like a cockney, if I speak like that, it sounds so forced. But they’ve asked me to say Ten Years After…TenYears After!”

And with that intro Alvin Lee and company broke into the prophetically titled “I May Be Wrong, But I Won’t Be Wrong Always.”

The Undead LP firmly took TYA back to its jazz and R&B roots. It’s an astonishingly good recording given the primitive production that went into its making. Reflecting on the live album, the late Lee said, “I was so happy with it. When I first heard it I thought, wow, what are we going to do next? My attitude was, ‘Let’s go into the studio and experiment, because we’ve already made the ultimate (live) album.’” Undead’s critical success led to a change in the album’s distribution strategy to include geography well beyond the US.

In the end, the economics of a small club for 400 to 500 patrons just wasn’t sustainable. The Keef Hartley Band was the club’s last performer in January 1970. At the time of the club’s closing, membership had grown to 58,000.

The demise of Klooks Kleek was a precursor to what soon happened to several venues in the US, including the Fillmore East. Said Dick Jordan, “They (bands) can go play (London’s) Royal Albert Hall or the Lyceum,” similar to what Bill Graham would soon be saying about (NYC’s) Madison Square Garden.

Artist growth and economic opportunities simply outpaced the magic that iconic venues like Klooks Kleek and other clubs could provide.

Header image: The Graham Bond Organisation Live at Klooks Kleek, album cover.

One of the popular mantras in audiophilia is “garbage in, garbage out.” This is meant to say a piece of equipment is only as good as what comes before it. Ivor Tiefenbrun, the founder of Linn Products, used to say that his Sondek LP12 record player sounded better played through a transistor radio than his competitors’ products played through a proper stereo system. In my first article for Copper, I mentioned my very first audio buddy Neil, whom I met in medical school and who was a Linn enthusiast. He was the one who told me about Ivor’s quote, and in fact, I just met up with him in Scotland earlier this month for the first time in 33 years. He is still playing his Linn Sondek, which remains in its original configuration, although he is contemplating getting the modern upgrades. He has also wisely kept all his LPs. A true lifelong Linnie!

What people sometimes forget is that the software (LP, CD, digital file) and the room play an important role in determining the sound quality, even more so than the hardware, though we do not often think of these as part of our audio system. Even Ivor’s turntable cannot make a poor recording sound good. Therefore, the recording engineer plays the most important role in how a recording sounds in your system, followed by the mastering engineer, and then the designers of your record player, amplifiers and loudspeakers. Of course, this is not always true, given my experience with some horrible-sounding loudspeakers (and their cost is irrelevant here) that can utterly ruin an otherwise excellent system. However, in my experience, the difference between competently-designed modern turntables and amplifiers (even those of modest cost) is less than the difference between well- and poorly-engineered recordings. In fact, higher-quality hardware often renders the faults of poor recordings even more obvious. Some record labels make consistently great-sounding recordings, such as Decca and Mercury during their golden years. The people who ran those labels recognized the importance of sound quality and hired the best engineers to make their recordings. This is why many of these recordings are still being reissued today, after 60-odd years, and are still being held as benchmarks against which modern recordings are compared.

Most audiophiles have probably heard of the names Kenneth Wilkinson (Decca) and Robert C. Fine (Mercury), who are justifiably celebrated as patron saints of recording engineers. Few would have heard of Marc Aubort, even though he is held in equally high esteem within professional audio circles Maybe the reason is because he founded his own company (Elite Recordings) in 1965 after spending nine years as chief engineer at Vanguard Records, and spent most of his career doing work on a per-project basis for smaller labels. He remained active until the 2000s, well into his 80s. He made many recordings for the classical labels Nonesuch and Vox/Turnabout. Unfortunately, the quality of the original LPs from these labels is often inconsistent, especially those made during the oil crisis of the 1970s when noisy recycled vinyl was used for these budget releases.

I was first introduced to his recordings when I came across an LP reissued by Analogue Productions in 1992 of Ravel compositions titled Works for Orchestra, with Stanislaw Skrowaczewski conducting the Minnesota Orchestra. It was one of AP’s earliest reissues, their seventh in fact, in collaboration with mastering engineer Doug Sax. I was blown away by how great the LP sounded. These recordings were made in 1974, shortly after the inauguration of the new Minnesota Symphony Hall, and released in the following year in a Vox box set of four LPs. One of the tape collectors I am friendly with bought some of the master tapes from Elite Recordings when Aubort retired, including this Ravel set. He agreed to make a copy of the whole set for me. The original recording was made in quadraphonic sound, and there are specific instructions on the tape boxes on how to master for stereo. Listening to the tapes was quite a revelation for me.

Ravel, Works for Orchestra, album cover.

Skrowaczewski was Polish but he spent his post-war years in Paris. He was first invited to the US by George Szell to conduct the Cleveland Orchestra, and occupied the post of music director at Minnesota (called the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra at the time) from 1960 until 1979, filling the shoes of Antal Dorati. He continued to conduct the orchestra for another 37 years as conductor laureate. The US had the best orchestras for French music outside of France during the post-war years, with Paul Paray, Charles Munch, Pierre Monteux and Skrowaczewski directing major American orchestras.

The set contains all of Ravel’s compositions for orchestra, and in my opinion, the most notable performance is the Bolero. Ravel indicated on the score that the piece is supposed to be performed over 17 minutes at a constant tempo. Many interpreters speed up at the end, that is, almost everyone except Skrowaczewski. The piece has a constant beat throughout, accompanying several phrases played by different instruments in turn, that are repeated over and over, with a gradual crescendo going from the quietest pianissimo at the beginning to the loudest fortissimo at the end. In recent years, some neuroscientists came to the conclusion that the repetitive nature of the composition (one of Ravel’s last) was a sign of Ravel’s impending dementia. Many conductors believe that the piece will be intolerably boring if played at the tempo indicated by Ravel. The composer himself was so irritated by the fast tempo of Toscanini’s performance with the New York Philharmonic that he refused to stand for the ovation at the end. When confronted by Ravel backstage, the conductor retorted that it was the only way the piece could be “saved.” The two men fell out over this incident and Toscanini subsequently refused to conduct the premiere of Ravel’s Piano Concerto for the Left Hand.

Bolero is one of Ravel’s most popular pieces, and many recordings exist, with most of them speeding up the tempo towards the end in order to add excitement. Those that adhere to Ravel’s tempo markings often sound ponderous and lacking in intensity. Skrowaczewski’s performance is none of these things. He allows a certain flexibility with the rhythm to avoid sounding mechanical, but maintains his grip on the tempo right until the end, choosing instead to build up the tension with the crescendo and the intensity of the playing. He adds color by subtly altering the tonality and dynamics of the solo instruments as the piece progresses. The ebb and flow of the musical line is lovingly shaped. The recording is brilliant at bringing out the tonality of the instruments and the subtle nuances of dynamic expression that makes the piece colorful instead of repetitive. It starts off as meditative, with an inexorable buildup of tension throughout its 17 minutes and 19 seconds that is released in one final climatic catharsis, all the while staying within the boundaries imposed by the composer. For me, this is the definitive interpretation of this piece.

Ravel, All the Works for Orchestra, quadraphonic LP box set album cover.

A published interview with Aubort has documented how his stereo recording technique changed over the years, which was very little. He employed the same microphones (Schoeps 221B, which employs the AC701 miniature tube) from almost the beginning right to the end of his career. He commonly used a stereo pair with omnidirectional capsules, placed at the front of the stage, sometimes supplemented by two additional flanking mics if the venue was large. It appears that he eschewed the use of spot mics. This avoids the problems associated with phase cancellation and makes preserving the imaging and depth of field less complicated. He did not use multichannel tape recorders but instead mixed down to stereo in real time. He achieved proper balance by careful placement of the players, sometimes having to invent ingenious setups so that the players could see the conductor.

This is rarely done nowadays because orchestra time is expensive, and it is more expedient to place multiple spot mikes throughout the stage and try to fix the problems digitally while mixing the tracks during post-production. This is made possible by the almost unlimited number of tracks available on digital recording systems, but it is always better to avoid problems in the first place. This is why so many modern orchestral recordings have a rather unnatural balance and lack image specificity and depth. He stuck with the 221B because these mics can pick up the sound all the way to the back of the stage. These advantages are clearly demonstrated by the recordings, which sound very spacious, with a large soundstage, clear and stable imaging, and good depth and balance. The instruments have natural and saturated tone colors.

Aubort was an early proponent of Dolby noise reduction. In fact, he was a friend of Ray Dolby, assumed the role of vice president of Dolby Laboratories, and was the first to adopt the Dolby A system in the US. He made full use of noise reduction to expand the dynamics of his recordings. The dynamics of this recording border on frightening at times, such as when the orchestra plays tutti, or when the tympani come in during La Valse.

Recording data for Ravel, All the Works for Orchestra.

Skrowaczewski can in turn be sensuous or atmospheric when the music calls for it, but it is never exaggerated, and he always respects the wishes of the composer, probably because he was a notable composer himself. Just listen to the atmospheric soundscape in Une Barque sur L’ocean. The spaciousness of the recording provides the perfect canvas for this impressionistic piece. The image of one of Monet’s seascapes materializes in front of one’s eyes. The perspective of the recordings is mid-hall; it is not as close as the typical Decca recording, but less far back than RCA’s. The pizzicato at the beginning of Alborada Del Gracioso has impressive speed and dynamics without sounding in your face. It is only in the tympani strikes that Aubort might have exaggerated things a little to make audiophiles happy. The orchestral playing is virtuosic, easily as good as any of the top orchestras of the day. The entries are clean and incisive, the string tone is silky, and the playing is sensitive to the subtle changes in direction. The brass section, often the weak link in an orchestra, is superb here. The sound has just the right amount of bite and intensity without sounding overwhelming.

These tapes are some of the finest in my collection, and the sound quality of the Analogue Productions-reissued LP comes close. Doug Sax paid serious attention to the quality of his equipment, down to the most minute details. He and his brother designed the whole mastering chain, which only employed tube equipment (including the tape recorders and the cutting amplifiers). The crossover he designed for his Tannoy monitors is legendary. The tonal balance and the dynamics of the LP are nearly identical to the tapes, which is really saying something, especially for a 33 RPM disc. This LP ranks along with the Classic Records-reissued Dorati Firebird on Mercury as the two most dynamic classical LPs I have heard. This LP only includes La Valse, Alborada Del Gracioso, Rapsodie Espagnole and Menuet Antique. I guess these pieces were chosen for their audiophile attributes and popularity. Too bad Bolero had not been included. Even though the LP has been long out of print, it is still quite plentiful in the second-hand market at a price not too far removed from that of the current AP reissues.

For those readers with access to an SACD player, Mobile Fidelity Sound Labs issued a multichannel SACD in 2003 that also includes Bolero, Pavane pour une infante defunte, as well as Daphnis et Chloé Suite No. 2, but without Alborada or Menuet Antique. This is a noteworthy release as Aubort set the choir in Daphnis offstage and captured the sound with two rear-facing mics for the two rear quadraphonic channels. Listeners with a multichannel set up at home will hear the sound of the choir coming from behind. This should sound even more spectacular than the original quadraphonic sound release. I have not heard the SACD, but all the reviews I have read have been positive.

Ravel, Mobile Fidelity multichannel SACD cover.

Header image of Maurice Ravel courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/public domain. All other images courtesy of the author.

If someone offered you $30,000 for just one out of the 20,000-plus records in your collection, would you sell it? Not Joe Bussard. If you aren’t familiar with the name, let me introduce you. Joe was born in Frederick, Maryland, in 1936. He dedicated his life to collecting and preserving 78 rpm records. His collection began at the age of seven or eight with Gene Autry records, then Jimmie Rodgers 78s, and it grew from there into an astounding library of thousands upon thousands of old shellac discs. Joe had a love affair with the jazz and blues music of the 1920s and early 1930s. He was as opinionated as it gets. He said that whatever they called “jazz” wasn’t jazz after 1933. Joe loved old country music, but felt that no good country music was made after 1955. He called Nashville “Trashville,” and thought rock and roll music was a cancer.

Joe’s method of collecting consisted primarily of simply driving around and going door to door asking people if they had any old records that they didn’t want anymore. Labor intensive? You bet, but he hit the jackpot time and time again. Once he got his driver’s license, he started combing much of Virginia and West Virginia. In one weekend, he could come home with 400 to 500 discs.

Joe Bussard was not just a record collector. He played bottleneck guitar and also hosted radio shows featuring songs from his collection. When he was in his teens, he broadcast a local show from his basement until some suits from the FCC showed up. While reluctantly admitting that they enjoyed his programming, they had to shut his operation down. He went on to work with local licensed stations, taping his shows from the basement archive that housed a complete broadcast studio along with his collection.

In addition to radio, Joe founded a record label, Fonotone, in 1956 that was the last commercial label to issue new recordings in the 78 RPM format. He recorded local musicians and made limited pressing runs, all without contracts, distribution deals, or (probably) profit. One of the artists whom Joe recorded was a young John Fahey.

Joe was probably born a collector. Young Joe collected birds’ nests, of all things. He was a prankster as well. His interest in electronics led him to make a portable television jammer, and he would drive around until he saw someone through a window watching TV in their home. He would activate the jammer, only to turn it off as the annoyed viewer got to the set to try to adjust it. Of course, he didn’t just stop there – he made the hapless victim get up from the chair multiple times.

Down in the Basement, record label.

In 2002, Old Hat Records released a compilation CD of some of his rarities entitled Down in the Basement: Joe Bussard’s Treasure Trove of Vintage 78s 1926 – 1937. It can be heard in its entirety on YouTube.

Joe was the subject of the 2003 documentary Desperate Man Blues: Discovering the Roots of American Music. Scenes of him listening to some of his favorites depict a man whose joy is unbridled and infectious. Seeing Joe smoking a cigar and rocking out to old blues and jazz discs can’t help but make one smile. He’s got a story for every acquisition shown in the film. So encyclopedic is his knowledge of early American recordings and music that it’s easy to get the impression that he could sing along and tell you something interesting and obscure about each and every one of his 78s. You also get to go along with Joe on numerous expeditions in search of rarities, and there is an abundance of archival imagery.

The documentary is not available on streaming services but it is rentable as a DVD from Netflix, and a copy is available from alibris.com at the time of this writing. One of the extras on the DVD is a shorter, but equally fascinating documentary called Joe Bussard: King of the Record Collectors. It is now viewable on YouTube at the link below. Although there is another YouTube entry showing a Warner Bros. logo, purporting to be the full version, do not click on it! You will be trapped watching some young woman with an inflated sense of self-importance.

Another DVD extra that can be found on YouTube is footage of Joe demonstrating his cleaning method for 78s, which involves dishwashing liquid and a shoe brush!

Here is a 20-minute interview with Joe by Otis Gibbs.

This video gives you a nearly complete view of Joe’s amazing basement.

There are many more entries about him on YouTube. I think you’ll find that time spent with Joe is rewarding.

Oh, and that $30,000 record? It was “Original Stack O’Lee Blues,” by Long Cleve Reed and Little Harvey Hull on the Black Patti label, one of the titles featured in that Old Hat compilation. Joe found it by sheer happenstance (once again) while on his way to a flea market to search for records. He stopped to ask a local for directions, and together they drove toward the market. Joe was playing tapes of music from his collection and he asked the man if he had any old records. He said there was a box under his bed and Joe was welcome to take a look. They went to his home, and after looking through a few of the incredibly dusty platters, Joe found his Holy Grail. He believed it to be the only copy in existence.

Joe Bussard passed away at the age of 86 on September 26, 2022. He said he wanted that Black Patti record to be buried with him. We may never know if that final wish was granted.

Header image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Mminsker.

Jay Jay’s review of the Revolver remixes appeared in Issue 175. Producer/engineer Giles Martin, the son of original Beatles producer George Martin, speaks with Jay Jay here. 

Jay Jay French: You started your mixing career by creating the Love mixes (the soundtrack album for the Cirque du Soleil Las Vegas show) and moved up to do Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, the “White Album” [The Beatles], Abbey Road and Let it Be. Each album was produced with ever-more sophisticated recording techniques by your father. Now, with Revolver, you are, in a sense, going backwards in terms of the source material. What were the technical challenges you faced this time?

Giles Martin: With Revolver the band had recorded all the music on one track, [with] two tracks of vocal overdubs, and one track of guitar or piano. If I just had this to work from I wouldn’t have been able to remix the album. First of all, they didn’t bounce tracks from one tape to another back then. Keep in mind that stereo was still not the main source, it was still a novelty. The technological discoveries and innovations we made during the Get Back [remixing] sessions with [director] Peter Jackson made the capture and isolation of individual instruments, vocals, etc. possible. This allowed us to pick out and separate all the instruments, drum parts and vocals, which [then] gave us the ability to mix.

[Giles also explained how they could capture and break down every sound as if they had multitrack recordings with all the parts isolated.]

The Beatles, Revolver, album cover. © Apple Corps Ltd.

JJ:  Where do you place Revolver, given its recent ascension by critics to Number One as the best of all Beatles albums?

GM: I feel Revolver is the band’s most ambitious album.

They went from being this four-headed, suit-wearing beast, to where they were, in a sense, saying goodbye to the screaming girls era of “She Loves You,” “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and “Can’t Buy Me Love” and embracing their individualism, and that’s why you have an album that sounds like eight different bands playing!

I also think that Rubber Soul was their farewell to the Mersey beat era. There was a confidence and swagger that occurred from Revolver onward.

JJ: The evolution of the song “Yellow Submarine” is astonishing. According to the Geoff Emerick book [Here, There and Everywhere: My Life Recording the Beatles], your dad was away the day the final version was recorded and it sounded like there was a party actually happening there. Is that true?

GM: God bless Geoff, I grew up with him, but a lot of what he says in his book is not true. My dad was there – all those extra sounds, noises and sound effects were added by just the band.

He also said that “Blackbird” was recorded outside [in a recording studio outside of Abbey Road Studios – Ed.], which it wasn’t, and that the recording of “A Day in The Life” was an edit, which it wasn’t, so I’m not sure about his memory exactly.

Giles Martin. Courtesy of Alex Lake.

JJ: How were the backwards guitar tracks recorded?

GM: You worked out the notes on a piano, recorded it, and played it back in reverse first to see what worked. Then you had the guitar play the parts and played those recordings backwards. This way you hear where you want the notes to fall.

JJ: Has the evolution of home hi-fi and its ability to get the customer closer to what the producer/engineer actually hears at the mixing desk affected how you now produce the music?

GM: Yes. If you think about it, the speakers that were used 56 years ago to listen back in the studio are not the same as what we have now. That changes the way we have to do the mixes as well.

It was amazing how the originals sounded. Now we have to mix for people with air pods (earphones) as well as audiophiles. Young people, older fans, audiophiles – we try to please everyone.

It is crazy when some audiophile home systems cost more than my studio. Some people spend more money on cables than [I spent on] my speaker system in my [studio] room.

JJ: What were the main mics used at that time?

GM: Mostly Neumanns and AKGs. These mics were developed during the Second World War and are still at Abbey Road today, and they are still the best mics in the world.

JJ: It must be noted that the engineers at the time were all really good and knew what to do. Your thoughts?

GM: All the great gear in the world isn’t going to make a mediocre band or musician sound better.

People are looking for the magic of why the Beatles sounded the way they sounded. Was it Geoff Emerick, was it my dad (George Martin), the Neumann microphones, the J37 1-inch 4-track tape machine, the Fairchild 660 compressor?

It’s easy to record a really good artist. It’s the fact that they [the Beatles] were just really good.

They just sounded really good!

The Beatles in Abbey Road Studios during filming of the “Paperback Writer” and “Rain” promotional films, May 19, 1966. © Apple Corps Ltd.

This interview originally appeared in Goldmine magazine and is used here with permission, slightly edited from the original.

Header image of Giles Martin courtesy of Alex Lake.

There are many reasons why recording studios exist – aside from the obvious, not least of all because they are purpose-built spaces with excellent sound reproduction quality in mind. Typically, they will be built, designed, and developed in an area which will be much bigger than your own listening space, a comparatively small or even very small room. Suffice it to say that when we want to optimize the sound of our small listening rooms, a big part of the challenge is in trying to emulate the spatial characteristics of the room in which a recording was made, and the acoustics and speakers of the room in which the recording was mixed. Of course, this is never completely possible, because your listening room will never duplicate the physical volume, spectral balance, and size and shape of the recording space, not to mention the inability to have the musicians and instruments in your room. So, what can benefit us, if anything, or is it purely a thankless highway to nowhere when managing our own listening spaces? What can we do?

Our goal, then, cannot be to exactly copy the room in which the recordings were made, but instead, we can manage our listening spaces to create a sense that we are in a bigger room than we actually are. Perhaps it is mainly for this reason (among others) that some studio engineers prefer high-directivity speakers for studio monitoring, and yet employ more diffuse-sounding environs in their home listening rooms.

One issue to deal with is if the primary sound from the speakers arrives too close to the arrival time as the earliest reflections, or if the reverb decay times in the listening room are too short. (If they arrive at the same time, this too sounds unnatural because it messes with the spatial cues of the room size due to partial cancellation and reinforcement of varying frequencies.) This results in something which our brain hears as one overall sound, because both the direct and reflected sound are so close together. When this happens, we lose some of the perceived spatial cues, which has a detrimental effect on the naturalness and appeal of our soundstage presentation. So, we want to make our room sound bigger by making the reverb decay time longer, by using absorbers and diffusers and reflection.

If your reverb is excessive, you could use soft fabric furnishings, room dividers and even egg boxes (the classic low-budget home recording studio solution) on the hard wall surfaces, all of which make a significant difference in reducing excessive reverb. If you have the patience or simply want to test out the merits of where you may decide to place a professional diffuser, you could create some box tester panels and fill the boxes with soft fabric to absorb more sound than using the egg boxes alone.

There is no exactly correct right or wrong here, because we all hear slightly differently (and have varying preferences in the tonal balance we prefer) but nonetheless, improvements can almost always be made. In our last article (in Issue 176) we touched on the idea of using a balloon test to gauge a room’s reverberant character. To recap, sit in your preferred listening position and have a friend burst a series of equally-filled balloons, one at each speaker placement point in the room, and listen for where the “slapping” echo sound comes from off the walls. You are not listening for the direct pop of the balloon itself. It should be mentioned that this is perhaps more advantageous than a simple hand-clapping test because the when you burst the balloon, you are creating a much bigger impulse to listen to, which also reaches into the bass frequency range more than just the hand-clapping exercise.

If you take the time to try this and hear what might seem to be too much echo or reverb, don’t then panic and rush out and treat your room with absorption all over the wall surfaces. Why? The tendency is to overcompensate and then deaden the room too much. We want to retain some of the liveness and reverberant quality of the room, in line with our goal or more faithfully re-creating the recording space. Reverberation time is measured in a unit called RT60, the time it takes for a sound to decay by 60 dB. So instead of going crazy with tweaking the room, perhaps try no treatment at all and consider, as mentioned in a previous article, reorienting the speakers and their toe-in, or even changing your speakers for a model with greater directivity. (See the previous article in Issue 176 on the benefits of narrow-dispersion speakers.)

Illustration of RT60 reverberation time. After the initial impulse, the reflected sound gradually trails off. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/modif.

In the studio, the instruments each have their own influence on the sound of the room’s reverb, making for a composite (and ideally sonically pleasing) effect, and if you clad out your listening surfaces with absorbers and diffusers too extensively, you will likely adversely affect the studio engineer’s intent.

On another topic, what if your room’s frequency response doesn’t “match” that of the recording and interferes with it? You may then choose to tweak a recording’s spectral balance with tone controls, perhaps on a recording-by-recording, or even a track-by-track basis. I have found myself doing the former more often, but it ultimately depends on how bothered I can be! (Of course, this assumes you even have tone controls in your audio system.) In any case, listening in an overly-deadened room just sounds too “dried-out” and unpleasant. These spectral balance tweaks (if available) are also very much more of a finishing touch on how you listen, so, back to room treatments.

Here’s an all-too-common issue: your room is open on one side, perhaps to a hallway or other family space, with the other speaker close to the opposite wall – making for what initially appears to be an impossible situation in getting the sound right. But think of the open side of your room as effectively a large absorber. In this case, placing absorptive material on the wall closest to one of the speakers can help make both speakers more balanced in sonic behavior. Does the wall (that’s close to one speaker) happen to have a window? If so, you could replace the blinds on the window with curtains – sound absorbers. If you already have curtains and feel it’s needed, you could add more absorption by stitching in or placing a felt liner behind them.

Curtains can be an effective method of controlling sidewall reflections, or helping to even out your speakers’ room behavior if one is near a wall and the other near an open space. Shown: B&W Model 702 S2 loudspeaker. Courtesy of the B&W Media Gallery.

You may be in the enviable situation where you are planning your room treatments in a completely new and currently empty room. If so, just be conscious of the fact that by the time you have added in your furniture, rugs and pictures on the wall, your room’s acoustics will be quite different from when it was empty. This is just to encourage a pause for thought, that you may indeed already have enough room “treatment” once it’s full. It’s analogous to the situation encountered by front-of-house sound mixers who do a sound check when the hall is empty, and the sound changes after the audience comes in.

If you’re lucky enough to have curtains on both side walls (or the rear wall) of your listening room, they provide a hugely flexible way of changing how your room sounds very quickly, by changing the amount of how open or closed they are. You can even tailor the room’s acoustics for classical, rock or jazz performances. Sounds tweaky, but we are audiophiles after all.

If you have an L-shaped room, the open end of the “L” will be acting as an absorber. In this case, you may choose to place curtains on the closed/walled side opposite the open end, to provide a better reverb balance in that space. Again, we do not want to eliminate all the reverb, which makes for an overtly unnatural sound, but maintain enough to get a feel for what the “live” recorded performance was like.

Header image courtesy of Pexels.com/Lisa Fotios.

Previous installments in this series appeared in Issue 176 and Issue 175.

Long Island has always been a fertile musical breeding ground, and after almost 20 years of seeking a home, the Long Island Music and Entertainment Hall of Fame (LIMEHoF) has finally found a location in a beautiful, spacious building in Stony Brook, New York. The Hall was inaugurated with a grand opening event on November 22, 2022.

Founded in 2004, the LIMEHoF is dedicated to honoring and supporting Long Island’s remarkably varied musical heritage. LIMEHoF has been seeking a permanent facility since their inception, and has had a mobile exhibit for some years, but now Long Island finally has a fitting permanent showcase for a dazzling roster of talent: among LIMEHoF’s 122 inductees are Billy Joel, John Coltrane, Al Kooper, Barbra Streisand, Twisted Sister, Carole King, Clive Davis, Cyndi Lauper, Dream Theater, EPMD, George Gershwin, Harry Chapin, Kurtis Blow, Morton Gould, Perry Como, “Cousin” Brucie Morrow, Simon and Garfunkel, Tony Bennett, Whodini, and Mariah Carey – to name a few. I was personally very happy to see the Hall usher in their newest inductee: music and pop culture journalist Wayne Robins.

Yes, Wayne Robins, Copper writer, who was Newsday’s pop music journalist for around 20 years. Newsday is Long Island’s major newspaper and everyone on the Long Island music scene read him. Wayne has authored several books, was editor of gonzo-rock magazine Creem, and has contributed to The Village Voice, Rolling Stone, Melody Maker and others. He is an adjunct professor of journalism at St. John’s University and writes the “Critical Conditions” column on Substack. He is also a friend.

Part of the memorabilia on display. Courtesy of Ed Shin/LIMEHoF.

The opening of the Long Island Music and Entertainment Hall of Fame has special meaning to me, and to many of the LI rockers and honorees who attended the opening ceremony. I’ve lived on Long Island almost all of my life, and have been involved with (and perhaps have made a fractional contribution to) the LI music scene since the late 1960s. I’ll admit – I was really excited to be able to attend the opening. And I’m sure it was particularly special for Ernie Canadeo, LIMEHoF chairman, co-founder Norm Prusslin, and other LIMEHoF people at the event.

The museum comprises two floors. The upper floor hosts a semi-permanent exhibit space with a variety of memorabilia, musical instruments, stage wear, concert posters, and other items. The lower floor will feature a changing roster of exhibits. Among the items on display are a pair of autographed sneakers from Run DMC, a Billy Joel 1978 tour jacket and one of his motorcycles, a couple of Morton Gould’s notebooks, some of Twisted Sister’s stage outfits (including the one Dee Snider wore on the cover of the Stay Hungry album, complete with the original bone he held for the photo shoot), Elliot Murphy’s guitar, hundreds of album covers, and much more, including – how could it not? – a signed cowbell from Blue Öyster Cult.

The current first-floor exhibit is “Long Island’s Legendary Club Scene – 1960s – 1980s.” It brought knowing smiles to many of the attendees who lived that scene – including me. In the late 1970s and early 1980s I played in a new wave band called the Lines, and Wayne Robins happened to have been in the audience at an early gig. He wrote a favorable review for Newsday. It helped to break the band. We went on to achieve local notoriety – once opening for Duran Duran on their first-ever US gig at Spit in Levittown (those really were the days) – but never went beyond triple-A into the majors. Wayne and I lost touch for decades, reconnecting thanks to social media and Copper, and it was wonderful to see him again after all that time, and see him get the honor he deserved for being such a big part of chronicling and even helping to shape Long Island’s music scene.

Wayne Robins, LIMEHOF’s latest inductee.

The Club Scene exhibit, created by renowned designer Kevin O’Callaghan (a Long Islander who created the MTV Movie Awards trophy), takes attendees through a club crawl of LI’s music venues at the time, with replicas of some key (it not all that glamorous) clubs like My Father’s Place, Malibu, Tuey’s, Hammerheads, Rumrunners, Speaks, and others, where many a Long Islander misspent their youth listening to bands like the Good Rats, Mazarin, Swift Kick, the Stanton Anderson Band, the Bonnie Parker Band and legions of rockers. As Jay Jay French notes in his book Twisted Business, the club scene was huge in those days and bands could make a lot of money. Raising the drinking age to 21 and the advent of disco killed it all. The exhibit is beautifully designed with a dash of good-natured humor – to name one example, the “what to wear to a club” wall is very funny, especially since it’s right on.

Part of the museum’s wall of coolness.

There’s a stage for live performances, and it’s also special: a replica of a period-era stage setup, complete with PA with immense bass bins and high-frequency horns, part of Zebra’s 1980s rig and donated by the band. (It’s really loud, adding yet another element of period-correct clubland authenticity.) There are also red Marshall stacks, a Hammond B3 organ that Mark Stein played in Vanilla Fudge, and a backdrop of advertisements from the era, among other accoutrements.

Speaking of live performances…the word was that there would be live music to close out the event. I’d heard they couldn’t announce the performers in advance, in case there were any last-minute schedule changes. Well…Elliot Murphy played a short but wonderful acoustic solo set, followed by all three members of Zebra rocking out, having lost nothing to the passing of time. I’m glad I followed my rock and roll instincts and stuck around past the event’s official closing time, because the evening ended with Albert and Joe Bouchard, founding members of Blue Öyster Cult, and current BÖC drummer Jules Radino playing a three-song set that included the spellbinding “Astronomy,” which the band dedicated to Stony Brook’s Sandy Pearlman, one of BÖC’s early managers (and a vital contributor to the band’s oeuvre during their formative days), and professor, producer, and entrepreneur. As it’s no secret that I’m a very big BÖC fan, my visit to LIMEHoF ended on an unexpected high note. You can bring back the good old days.

I did manage to take some photos.

Billy Joel’s motorcycle is parked here.

Originally from New Orleans, Zebra (Felix Hanemann, Randy Jackson, Guy Gelso) made Long Island their home.

Albert Bouchard, original drummer/songwriter of Blue Öyster Cult, and Susie Loraine say hello. Susie will be performing on Albert’s next album.

The gift shop offers some tre-cool items, including a drum head autographed by Eddie Money and Colin Blunstone (the Zombies).

Just the thing for your next wedding or Bar Mitzvah: one of Dee Snider’s Twisted Sister stage outfits.

It’s all about having a good time: Long Island rock titans Felix Hanemann, Twisted Sister’s Jay Jay French, and George Cintron (Cintron).

And a good time was assured if these guys and gal were on stage: John Gatto (Good Rats), Bonnie Parker (Bonnie Parker Band), Jay Jay French, Felix Hanemann and Mark “The Animal” Mendoza (Twisted Sister).

He got the breaks: one of Kurtis Blow’s stage outfits.

Opening night was well attended.

Celebrating a magical night: inductees Paula Janis and Carole Demas of TV series The Magic Garden. Courtesy of Ed Shin/LIMEHoF.

One of John “The Cat” Gatto’s guitars. Look at it sideways!

Parrish Smith of EPMD and Lawrence Worrell, aka L.A.W. from Planet 12, and grandson of LIMEHoF inductee Sam Taylor.

Wayne Robins receives his award, next to LIMEHoF execs Norman Prusslin and Ernie Canadeo.

Walk this way: a pair of Run DMC’s sneakers.

To think that Manhattanites would look down at the bridge-and-tunnel crowd…

Wayne Robins reconnects with rock and roll troubadour Elliott Murphy.

Burning for you: Albert Bouchard, Jules Radino and Joe Bouchard of Blue Öyster Cult close out the evening.

The Long Island Music and Entertainment Hall of Fame is located at 97 Main Street, Stony Brook, New York and is open Wednesdays through Sundays. Admission ranges from $15.00 – $19.50 and children under 12 get in free.

Header image courtesy of Ed Shin/LIMEHoF. All other images courtesy of the author except where noted.

When the Moody Blues released their follow-up to their 1965 debut album, the cover song-centric The Magnificent Moodies (released in the US as Go Now – The Moody Blues #1), the music market didn’t quite know how to react. That second record, 1967’s Days of Future Passed, was recorded in collaboration with the London Festival Orchestra and largely panned by critics as being self-indulgent. Songs like “Nights In White Satin” would take time (five years) to gather speed on radio, but they would ultimately lift Days to a place where it is now considered one of the most important records of the 1960s, a recording with remarkably lasting significance.

John Lodge, bass player, songwriter and vocalist of the Moody Blues has decided to bring a celebration of this landmark record to America to help commemorate the album’s 55th anniversary. On the upcoming The Moody Blues’ John Lodge Performs Days of Future Passed tour, John and his 10,000 Light Years Band (Alan Hewitt: musical director and keyboards; Billy Ashbaugh, drums; Duffy King: guitars; and Jason Charboneau, cello), will perform the album in its entirety, along with performances by Jon Davison, singer for Yes. He’s announced that the show will also include a set of Moody Blues favorites including “Ride My See-Saw,” “I’m Just a Singer (in a Rock and Roll Band),” and others.

The Moody Blues haven’t toured since 2017, and founding member Graeme Edge passed away in 2021. However, shortly before Edge’s death, John and Graeme got together, and at that meeting Graeme told John how he hoped John would continue on and keep the Moody Blues’ music alive.

The Days of Future Passed tour, which will begin in February 2023, is just the beginning of what John Lodge has in mind to keep the Moody Blues’ flame burning brightly. The ability for John to write and record at home and collaborate with his bandmates in person, as well as virtually, has ignited a creative burst that will ensure that fans of the Moodies and John’s solo work will have more music to enjoy for the foreseeable future.

Copper caught up with John in advance of the tour to talk about the importance of the seminal record and how he intends to bring it to life, orchestration and all.

Ray Chelstowski: Days of Future Passed was the first Moody Blues record that you and guitarist Justin Hayward appeared on, and the first with original songs. It was a large departure from the band’s debut, The Magnificent Moodies.

John Lodge: When I joined the band in 1966 I had already known [founding member] Ray Thomas because we had been in a band together five years before. Mike Pinder was in that group as well. During that time, we [only] did cover records. When Justin and I joined [the Moody Blues] we discussed the idea of not doing cover records, but writing our own material instead and performing it live on stage. We never thought about recording it, because recording contracts then were few and far between. We just wanted to play our own music. So, we would play 45-minute [sets]. The first 45 were basically cover songs, and the second was our original material. We actually began to realize that our original material was getting more attention.

RC: Initially the record wasn’t well-received by critics, especially Rolling Stone magazine, who said: “their music is constantly marred by one of the most startlingly saccharine conceptions of ‘beauty’ and ‘mysticism’ that any rock group has ever affected.” The album is now considered to be one of the most important albums of 1967. What changed?

JL: It was a really strange time. We weren’t trying to change the boundaries of music. We just wanted to follow a road that was different than AM radio pop. We just didn’t want to travel the normal route. When we recorded the album and had a playback we invited the A&R people and when they heard it they sort of dismissed it because they didn’t know who they could sell it to. But we did have the head of the classical department and the vice president of London Records there, and they got what we were trying to do and became our mentors.

John Lodge. Courtesy of Brian Aris.

RC: The record was made with the London Festival Orchestra. How will you be bringing those orchestrations to life on this tour?

JL: Our keyboardist, Alan Hewitt, has recorded all of the orchestra parts, and we will marry them with what we play live. What you can do with keyboards these days is really amazing, and Alan is an aficionado. The cello actually wraps up the entire bottom end and it just seems to work. It’s very exciting. It will be interesting to see what the audience takes from this because eventually I’d like to go on the road with an orchestra and perform the record live. But, first things first.

RC: That’s interesting! The title track to the Fleetwood Mac album Tusk includes a marching band. Lindsey Buckingham had hoped to invite local marching bands from each tour stop to perform with them on stage. You could do the same with Days of Future Past with local orchestras.

JL: That’s exactly what we want to do. We would do that with The Moody Blues. I own the name “The World Festival Orchestra.” Sometimes when we went into towns that didn’t have an orchestra our manager would go into the town a few weeks early and audition people to build an orchestra. After the concert, I’d go on stage and thank the town’s orchestra, and people would come up later and tell me that they didn’t know that the town had an orchestra. Many towns in American though do have orchestras and I’m looking forward to [someday] playing Days of Future Passed with them.

RC: When you spoke with Graeme Edge about carrying on the legacy of the Moody Blues, did you discuss this current project in particular?

JL: Yes, and Graeme had always been a great supporter of my solo career. About a year ago when I was thinking about doing this project I asked him if he would go into the studio and record the [spoken-word] poetry for me again because I wanted to have him performing on stage with me, [if only] audibly of course. He wouldn’t be going out on the road but he’d always have a place on stage. He loved the idea. It actually will be the first time he will be “on stage” reciting his written words and it’ll be a major feature of the show. Just a week before he passed, he told me to keep the Moody Blues flame alive, and that’s what we’re doing.

RC: How will you bring other Moody Blues’ songs into the set?

JL: The first part of the show will be classic Moody Blues songs. Then I’ll do Days of Future Passed, and end with a few encores. Jon Davison from Yes is joining me as well. It’s all very exciting, and nerve wracking at the same time (laughs).

RC: You met Jon Davison on a rock cruise and the rest is history. What is it about him as a musician and vocalist that works so well with what you do?

JL: He’s a very gentle person. It’s very important that the people I work with are calm because you can discuss songs and get the best out of them. Jon is a great musician with an incredible voice that is beautifully in tune. It works with my voice and we seem to know where each of us is going vocally on every song.

RC: Do you still enjoy writing and recording new material?

JL: I love writing and performing, and I’ve found a new love for recording as well because I found a way to do it that really suits me. I actually get excited to go into the studio now and record new music. By doing it at home and sharing files, the musicians only create when they feel like creating.

RC: Good luck with the tour. I hope its success leads you to go forward with the market-by-market orchestra idea we just discussed.

JL: Thanks Ray. You’re the first person I’ve spoken to about the orchestra idea and I think that if it all comes about I’ll thank you!

Here are the tour dates for The Moody Blues’ John Lodge Performs Days of Future Passed:

Saturday, February 18 – Cary Hall, Lexington, MA
Sunday, February 19 – Flying Monkey, Plymouth, NH
Tuesday, February 21 – TBC
Wednesday, February 22 – The Warehouse, Fairfield, CT
Friday, February 24 – The Cabot, Beverly, MA
Saturday, February 25 – Infinity Hall, Hartford, CT
Sunday, February 26 – Jane Pickens Theatre, Newport, RI
Tuesday, February 28 – Patchogue Theatre, Patchogue, NY
Wednesday, March 1 – Sony Hall, New York. NY
Friday, March 3 – Newton Theatre, Newton, NJ
Saturday, March 4 – Keswick Theater, Glenside, PA
Monday, March 6 – Sandler Center, Virginia Beach, VA
Tuesday, March 7 – Rams Head On Stage, Annapolis, MD
Thursday, March 9 – Variety Playhouse, Atlanta, GA
Friday, March 10 – Ponte Vedra Concert Hall, Ponte Verde, FL
Saturday, March 11 – The Lyric Theatre, Stuart, FL
Tuesday, March 14 – Capitol Theatre, Clearwater, FL
Wednesday, March 15 – Amaturo Theater, Fort Lauderdale, FL
Thursday, March 16 – Rock and Romance Cruise

Header image courtesy of Frank Piercy.

Following one of the usual routes taken on several of my road trips, back when I was younger and the world made a bit more sense, our visit to France, covered in the last episode (Issue 176), shall conclude with a drive up north to Calais, from where the Channel Tunnel (also known as the Chunnel), will take us to England.

The Channel Tunnel is a 30-something mile long marvel of engineering, a railway tunnel connecting England to France, running 350 feet below sea level under the Strait of Dover. Special roll-on platform trains are used; you can drive your car onto them and wait in your vehicle for the 20 minutes or so that it takes to cross the channel. There are three types of trains using the Channel Tunnel. One is a standard passenger train that can take you from London to Paris. Another one is the enclosed-platform train for cars, vans and light trucks, and the last type is an open-frame train for heavy trucks. Prior to the construction of the Channel Tunnel, it took a 2-1/2-hour (at best, from Calais to Dover) ferry boat ride to cross the channel, with notoriously bad weather and rough seas over most of the year. I have tried the ferry boat once or twice. But the Channel Tunnel was always my preferred choice for the crossing, despite the much higher cost, as it is a real timesaver. As far as I can remember, I have driven various vintage vehicles across Europe, from its easternmost borders to its westernmost extensions and from the Mediterranean Sea to the North Sea, at least 28 times in the course of running my business.

The Channel Tunnel exits to the surface near Folkestone, with a big sign reminding you that not only is it permitted, but is actually mandatory, to drive on the wrong side of the road. The keen eye will quickly observe that it is an incredibly beautiful country, but cursed with eternally bad weather. Unlike France, in the UK it is very easy to obtain food pretty much anywhere, at any hour of the day or night. Whether you would actually want to eat it is a whole different matter!

The local delicacies include beans on toast, Guinness pie (puff pastry with meat that has the consistency of shoe leather inside, drowned in Guinness beer), fish and chips (Unidentified Fried Objects, possibly fried in used motor oil and traditionally served on used newspaper instead of a plate, although the government has recently imposed stricter “health and safety” regulations that determined that it was the newspaper that was the unhealthy part of this dish), and other gastronomic abominations that will promptly direct anyone still having intact nerve endings on their palate either to the nearest Italian restaurant or straight back to France.

For that purpose, the British automotive industry developed quite a few admirable getaway cars. They ranged from the luxury category of the likes of Aston Martin, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Jaguar and Lotus, to the mid-fi models of Austin Healey, MG, AC, Triumph, Vauxhall, Rover, and others, all the way down to the lawnmower class, erm, sorry, I meant the economy class of Morris, with the Mini being a rather popular example, but unfortunately intended for humans a few sizes smaller than evolution set us up for. Given the narrow roads of Britain, with city planning long predating the notion of a motor vehicle and the rather expensive fuel prices, British vehicles were generally small. There were a few interesting truck manufacturers as well, such as Leyland and Bedford, the latter acquired by General Motors, which introduced a series of vans inspired by 1970s Chevy vans, but equipped with what was essentially a V8 engine cut in half, with only one cylinder bank at 45 degrees to normal, known as the Vauxhall Slant-4. A desperate need to flee to remote and hopefully sunnier parts of the world, along with the adventurer spirit that had turned an island into a large empire, resulted in the Land Rover, a range of sturdy off-road vehicles that found widespread application all around the world, in terrain where few other vehicles would go.

Despite, or maybe because of the bad weather and questionable food, and long before the Channel Tunnel became operational (which greatly sped up the process of escaping in search of better weather and food), England had a long history of innovation and invention in the fields of sound recording and disk recording in particular. Alan Dower Blumlein of London, a prolific inventor, associated with The Gramophone Company and later EMI (Electric and Musical Industries, Hayes, England), had already filed a patent describing a sound recording system that was essentially capable of cutting stereophonic records (with the left and right channels in a single groove, as established and still used to this day), in 1931!

Alan Blumlein, in the meantime, had been busy being contracted to assist the British recording industry in avoiding having to pay royalties for the patents of Western Electric, so apart from his pioneering work in stereophonic sound, he also created a number of monophonic cutter heads. The earliest one made use of magnetic damping and corrective equalization instead of any form of mechanical damping, according to Peter Copeland, an archiving specialist working for the British Library.

Blumlein’s moving coil mono cutter heads, commercially used in EMI (and sub-label) releases, are capable of extending to at least 8 kHz, but were electronically limited to 6 kHz as it was deemed to “sound better” by the powers that be within the EMI organization. In the mid-1940s it appears that the range was extended to 12 kHz, with cutter head improvements.

HMV (His Master’s Voice) also manufactured a range of lathes, cutter heads and cutting amplifiers. The lower-end models were sold commercially, while the high-performance machines were reserved for internal use only. The HMV-branded lathes were produced throughout the 78-RPM era, and not many survive nowadays. They were belt-driven, with guide rods for the overhead carriage and various moving iron cutter heads. They were usually accompanied by beautifully-designed cutting amplifiers. Both the lathes and cutting amplifiers were intended for portable duty, but were insanely heavy for their size, often giving the impression that they are bolted onto the surface they sit on, when in fact they are just heavy.

One of the earliest manufacturers of disk recording equipment in the country was MSS (Marguerite Sound Studios), which made a sturdy and somewhat unusual lathe in the early 1930s.

MSS disk recorder. From the BBC Recording Training Manual, 1950.

The MSS lathe had a massive overhead bridge, driven by the same motor that was responsible for driving the platter, through an impressive array of gears, belts, clutches, friction disks and other mechanical contraptions almost certainly inspired by the work of Rube Goldberg. The mechanism offered three turntable speeds and a means to adjust the recording pitch, and well as various levers and hand cranks to engage the various motions and to manually do spirals between the selections on disk, or cut a lead-out groove at the end. It was powered by a fractional horsepower three-phase induction motor. The recording electronics that accompanied the lathe were designed by the BBC. The cutter head was a typical balanced armature moving iron design, with a frequency response extending to approximately 4 kHz.

MSS was also manufacturing blank lacquer disks and eventually expanded to other recording equipment such as tape machines and magnetic tape. The company survived well into the 1960s. During the 1930s, the BBC alone purchased a very significant number of MSS lathes.

By the late 1930s, the BBC Research Department had developed their own disk recording lathe, known as the “Portable Recording Equipment Type C.” This was a battery-operated machine, with a 12-volt DC motor driving the rim of the turntable. The overhead carriage was driven by a belt from the turntable shaft. It was usually fitted with the Type A cutter head, also of BBC design.

Above images: BBC disk recording machine Type C. From the BBC Recording Training Manual.

In the 1940s, the BBC started importing a large number of Presto lathes from the USA, presumingly because precision metalworking was not their forte. They still remained active in the development of cutting amplifiers and cutter heads, which were outsourced for manufacture. A famous example is the Grampian Type D cutter head, which was a moving iron design, with a second coil wound directly over the drive coil, acting as a feedback coil. Unlike the motional feedback systems used on other cutter heads, this was a unique, transformer-action feedback system. The two coils formed a transformer. The drive coil would set the armature in motion in the usual manner, and the feedback coil would register the core magnetization, including all the magnetic nonlinearities of the core and the back-EMF caused by the armature motion, which caused changes in magnetic reluctance. The resonant frequency was set to 10 kHz and the cutter head was the most inefficient and power-hungry cutter head in existence at the time of its introduction. While the average moving iron cutter head of the time would operate with a 10 – 20 watt amplifier driving it, the Grampian head would need around 150 watts! The most interesting amplifier for the Grampian head did not originate from the UK, however. It was the Gotham PFB-150, designed and manufactured in the US by the importer of the Grampian products at the time.

BBC disk recording machine, Type D. From the BBC Recording Training Manual.

Another individual who made lathes in his shed in Yorkshire was Arnold Sugden, who was better known in the high-fidelity world for his Connoisseur brand of turntables. Well, Connoisseur also made lathes and cutter heads, and they were pretty good too!

The Connoisseur lathes were idler-driven by a synchronous motor, and featured a mechanically-variable pitch system, a very interesting feature in its time. Perhaps the most fascinating feature of Sugden’s disk recording system was the use of a moving coil cutter head of his own design, with a frequency response extending to 15 kHz! This was clearly intended for the true Connoisseur!

Above photos: HMV 2300 recording lathe with HMV vacuum tube cutting amplifier. Courtesy of Agnew Analog Reference Instruments.

Meanwhile, in Birmingham, there was another company manufacturing disk recording lathes. They were called BSR (Birmingham Sound Reproducers and had no connection with BSA (Birmingham Small Arms), other than both being based in what is widely considered to be the most depressing city in Britain, and sharing a similar name). The former primarily made audio equipment, as well as vacuum cleaners and cookware on the side, while the latter made a range of products from rifles to motorbikes.

The BSR Type DR33, introduced in the 1940s, was a portable lathe of solid design. It was belt-driven, with the overhead carriage running on two guide rods with a leadscrew running parallel to them on the same supports, in a manner similar to Fairchild lathes of the same period. The recording pitch was fixed, and a hand crank was provided for making spirals and lead-out grooves. The cutter head was a moving iron design, with the upper range of the frequency response extending to around 5 kHz. BSR also offered a cutting amplifier they called the Type AR15 (not to be confused with the assault rifle of the same designation) and the RBM1 ribbon microphone. BSR was founded in 1932 and folded in 1985, having manufactured a variety of items ranging from laboratory measurement instruments to communications equipment, and of course lathes and turntables (including record changers). They also manufactured tape transport systems which they also sold to other companies, including Bang and Olufsen as a notable example.

By the end of the 1960s, as the disk recording market shrunk with tape recording gaining ground in most applications and with the disk mastering sector essentially divided between two companies (one in the US and one in Germany), there was not much left of the British disk recording lathe manufacturing operations. The British vinyl record manufacturing industry had moved to Neumann and Scully lathes.

All that remains nowadays is the bad weather and the beans on toast, but at least you can now leave easily…well, at least you could, before the Brexit. Oh, well…

Header image: BSR DR-66 disk recording lathe, from original product brochure.

The glam metal era is loaded with memorable personalities from heroic acts including Poison, Mötley Crüe, Ratt, and more. But peel back the onion, and layers of incredible music teeming with vivid creativity are yearning to be rediscovered.

While Neverland wasn’t exactly a prototypical 1980s – 1990s glam metal band, they’re often lumped in with the era just the same. And though they’re most known for the track “Drinking Again,” which was included on the Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure soundtrack, in reality, the music of Neverland presented as a stark alternative to much of the FM radio fodder of the day. (They should not be confused with the Japanese band of the same name and era, or today’s Neverland country/rock/metal band from San Jose, California.)

At the forefront of it all was front man Dean Ortega, a thinking man’s rocker with sensibilities deeply rooted in AOR rock music and classic Disney films, of all places. Sadly, through shifting tides and shoddy dealings, Neverland never got its due, and before it was over, Ortega jettisoned himself for projects anew.

In the years since, Ortega has been a rover, still making music through various projects but mainly focusing on family life. With aspirations of raising children taking priority over the perilous rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, Ortega keeps things simple these days, making the music that speaks to his soul through his band, Revolution Child.

In this rare career-spanning interview, vocalist and guitarist Dean Ortega runs through the hard-luck story of Neverland, one of many rock bands that should have made the big time, but had it slip away.

Neverland, album cover.

Andrew Daly: What first drew you toward rock music?

Dean Ortega: According to my mother, at the age of three, I pulled out all of the pots and pans in the kitchen and started pounding away on them to my favorite Beatles songs as if they were drums. From that point, I never looked back.

AD: Who were some of your early influences who shaped your vocal style?

DO: As a young child, I loved Disney movies. There was one movie that really got my attention, The Jungle Book. It was the song “I Wan’na Be Like You,” sung by the late great Louis Prima. His voice was so rich with character and confidence. It was undeniable that this is what got me singing, then followed by the Beatles, Jan and Dean, the Beach Boys, Three Dog Night, Harry Nilsson, Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, and Iron Maiden.

AD: Growing up in California, paint a picture of the scene that shaped you.

DO: I was 12 and loved living in Whittier, California. It was a great place to grow up, besides living in a household that was very supportive of the arts. There was music everywhere around my neighborhood, a lot of rock bands that would rehearse in their garage-converted studios. Back then, you could pound on the door, and most of the time, they would welcome you with open arms and let you watch them practice.

At the time, I was a drummer, so all I wanted to do was learn as much as possible about the drums. At 12, I started a band; as time went on, I ended up playing with a few different bands, and it was all about the backyard parties in the Whittier, La Habra, and La Mirada areas. I played every weekend, just worked on my craft, and had a great following.

At the ripe age of 15, I had my first real Hollywood showcase at Gazzarri’s; my mother had to chaperone the band after she convinced Bill [Gazzarri] it was a great idea to let my underage band play there on a Sunday night for a battle of the bands. The winner got to play a regular spot on Saturday nights. We won, and that led to other opportunities all around the L.A. nightclub scene. After a few years of drumming [and] singing, I decided to dedicate myself to vocals, and since I couldn’t really write songs without an accompanying instrument, the logical one [to take up] at the time was the acoustic guitar.

AD: Walk me through your initial interactions with guitarist Patrick Sugg.

DO: [By] this time, I had played with a lot of really good bands around the Hollywood circuit: The Answer, XL, and Lace. But it was The Rozy Crucifixion that got the attention of Hector Sanchez, the A&R rep from Virgin Records, who brought me to A&M studios to meet [producer] Jimmy Iovine one afternoon. After sitting and talking about music in-depth for a good while with Jimmy, he asked me to play a song on the spot. Later, he told me, “The reason I wanted to work with you was because you were prepared.” Being prepared was the key to success. In other words, if I didn’t play the guitar and sing that day for him, he would have passed on me. So, thank God I was ready, and he liked what he heard. (laughs)

He then decided to play me a song by an up-and-coming young guitar player called Patrick Sugg, who he thought might be a good fit to collaborate with. After listening to the song, I was still not convinced. Although the guitar was great in the song he showed me, I still was hesitant about doing this because I was loyal to the guys in my band. After a week of considering meeting with Patrick, my manager, Cathy Pedley from Rozy Crucifixion, convinced me I should check it out. She said, “This could be the break you’ve been working so hard for. The guys in Rozy are your true friends, and they’ll understand.”

AD: Was the chemistry with Patrick immediate?

DO: Well, I can tell you this, I met with Patrick, and from then on, we were inseparable. We met every night at Jimmy’s office at A&M Studios at about 6:00 p.m. when the offices closed. And once we were there, we would write until early the next morning when the offices would open. It was unbelievable how easily the songs came, and we did this for months until Jimmy said, “You’re ready to demo some of your songs.” And just like that, he called on seasoned session players to play on our demos, but they were much older than us, and we didn’t have much in common with them. But the best part of this was we got to record all our demos at the best recording studio in the world, A&M. It was a dream come true.

AD: How did bassist/vocalist Gary Lee and drummer Scott Garrett enter the picture, leading up to the formation of Neverland?

DO: After we finished the demos, Patrick and I wanted to find the right players for the band, so the search went on for a long time before we found the right guys. During our demo sessions at A&M, Gary Lee was doing a recording session there with Rudy Richmond, the drummer from the Quireboys. This is where our paths crossed; at the time, we didn’t have a solid drummer yet, but we still invited Gary in for a jam, and he fit in perfectly – with his great backing vocals and superb bass playing, we could not let him slip away. We continued to play with many different drummers, but Patrick and I were still not satisfied with any of them.

Finally, one late night, Patrick and I were working on a song called “Time to Let Go,” we were rehearsing at the famous Gardner Studios behind Guitar Center on the Sunset Strip. [Producer] Chuck Reed acquired [the studio time] for us. And lo and behold, we hear a lone drummer practicing on the other side of the studio wall. We had never heard anybody in this other room in the past, and we had no idea there was a room there. We listened to this drummer with killer chops and meter, and we both thought, “This is the guy.” But now we had to figure out how to convince him to come and play with us. After pounding on the wall for what seemed like forever, Scott finally heard us, and we asked him to jam right then and there. He came over, and we hit it off right from the get-go, and thus Neverland was born.

Neverland: Gary Lee (bass), Dean Ortega (vocals), Patrick Sugg (guitar)and Scott Garrett (drums).

AD: What do you recall regarding Neverland’s first gig and subsequent rise on the club scene?

DO: Neverland’s first show was at the University of Santa Barbara in the quad at 1:00 p.m. It was good, but no one knew who we were. We had a good response and got asked to play at other local bars on Main Street a few times after that show. The crazy thing about Neverland was we really never played the [Sunset] Strip a lot, we played at Club Lingerie a few times in L.A. and one time at the Troubadour, but that was really about it as far as Hollywood goes.

Jimmy had other plans for us: he put us on a small club tour through the US for about three months with a band called Blonz, a band from the Midwest. He wanted us to [get some experience in to] tighten up the set. We then went on the road with The Divinyls for a while, then went to the East Coast, where we opened for Kix for about two months, getting better and better. Finally, we landed an arena tour with the Moody Blues, and that’s when we felt like we had arrived.

AD: As a late 1980s-era signing, what allowed Neverland to stand out amongst the many bands vying for time in front of record executives?

DO: I think Neverland stood out because we were not a heavy metal hair band from the ’80s; we were more like an AOR [album oriented rock] band. We were more like our heroes from the ’60s and ’70s with depth in our songs, not just the run-of-the-mill sex, drugs, rock and roll clichés. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I didn’t like that music; I actually love that stuff and still do to this day. But I felt like we made it a point to be conscientious and try to write songs with a bit more depth. We wanted to write about our experiences from life itself, and we wanted to be as original as we possibly could. It was important to us to try not to sound like anybody but ourselves.

Click here for a Neverland Spotify playlist.

AD: What made Interscope Records the right label for Neverland?

DO: Well, let’s face it, who knows what the right label is for anyone? At the time, we tried our best to make the right decisions. Interscope Records had a huge buzz. It was all about this up-and-coming label that was to be headed by Jimmy Lovine and Ted Fields, two of the biggest heavy hitters on the planet. [Interscope was founded in 1990 – Ed.] They covered a lot of ground when they decided to combine the music and movie industries. Not to mention, after all that Jimmy did for us at the beginning stages of the [earlier] A&M days, we felt it would only be fitting to give him first dibs at the band since he was so good to us. We also had a great lawyer at the time, Bill Coben, and he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer, and the bidding wars were long and drawn out. At the end of the day, he got us everything we could ever want from a label, so of course, it had to be Interscope Records.

AD: Can you recount Neverland’s process while recording its self-titled debut?

DO: Before we met Scott and Gary, Patrick and I had already written most of the songs. Once they joined the band, we started writing more fluently; since we had an actual band to work with, we could now add more aspects to the instrumentation of each song. Not to say they didn’t help in the arranging process, but for the most of it, Patrick and I would bring in our ideas, and we would work them out together first, then bring them to the band, and the band would develop the finished product.

As far as the recording of the album goes, once we figured out what songs to record, we had to find the perfect producer that we could all agree on. We met with several producers: some of the producers that were up for the task were Todd Rundgren, Steve Mac, Peter Frampton, Mutt Lange, Beau Hill, Paul O’Neill, and Bob Rock, to name a few. But Tim Palmer had the credentials that seemed to be the perfect fit for what we were looking for sonically overall. Thank God he liked our music and, like us as a band, he was great to work with.

If you think about where the band was at this moment in our career, we had just signed an incredible deal with Interscope Records, probably one of the biggest ones at the time, [and] we were so high on life, that poor guy had his work cut out for him. If Tim knew what was going to happen in the next few months, I don’t know if he would have taken this one on. (laughs) We set up everything so it could be recorded as live as possible; the band played together on all the tracks, then we would go back and fix things we didn’t like and add new ideas to each song. It was like painting a portrait of our lives. After it was all said and done, all I could say was [making the album] was a wild time at A&M Studios, but by the end of the day, we worked hard at getting things as close to perfect as possible.

AD: Despite the additional publicity from the inclusion of “Drinking Again” on the Bill and Ted Soundtrack, Neverland’s debut failed to hit. To what do you attribute the lack of attention?

DO: Well, considering the timing of our release, I feel we got lost in the shuffle. The [newer] technology of the music industry and social media was on the rise, not to mention the [then] new grunge scene was beginning to take over the airwaves, so yeah…a lot was going on at that time. The label was [trying to figure] out the next big thing and where we would fit in. So yes, I feel like they didn’t really know where we would integrate and how to properly place us in front of the right audience. It’s hard to say if Interscope properly supported us, but looking at it now, I feel like they were such a new label at the time; I think they were still getting all the right pieces in order as our record was released at the same time.

AD: Did it bother you that Neverland was lumped in with the glam bands of the era?

DO: Yes, this is true, we were lumped in with the glam pop band category, but I never felt we were that type of band at all. I mean, let’s face it, glam bands are bands like Hanoi Rocks, Poison, and Enuff Z’Nuff, which are all great, but we were nothing like those bands. It’s all about the overall sound of our music. Although our music was catchy, it wasn’t glam rock. We felt like we had no limits to our style of music. We wanted to bring all type of cultures into our music and try and filter it with the Neverland signature sound. So yes, in answer to your question, we were equipped to navigate through any changes that lay ahead.

AD: What led to you leaving Neverland in 1993?

DO: We started writing for the new record, and clashing personalities and egos got the best of the band. I didn’t really like the direction the band was headed, so I spoke to my manager Tom Hulett, one of the best managers at that time, and told him I was unhappy with the band and that I was going to leave and start a new project. He was very supportive and said he would remain my personal manager and help get me where he felt I should be at this point in my career. Unfortunately, tragedy struck, and Tom suddenly died. It was devastating; he was basically like a father figure to me. We were very close, and I didn’t want to continue after that, so I went on a hiatus for the next few years. Let’s just say you don’t know a person till you live with them for several months on a bus.

AD: How did you subsequently become involved with (Latin rock band) Tribe of Gypsies?

DO: Well, that came about through a mutual friend, a rock magazine journalist named Chris Leibundgut. He had interviewed me earlier when I was in Neverland, called me out of the blue, and said, “I have the perfect band for you. Man, you have to come to their rehearsal and check them out.” At the time, I was starting an early version of Revolution Child, writing with many different bands and doing studio work. I wasn’t interested in putting more on my plate at the time, but Chris wasn’t going to stop until I met with them, so we planned and went to see a rehearsal, and all I could say was it was magic from the minute I walked in.

I sat for about 10 minutes and immediately found myself engaged with the sound of the band and jumped right up and grabbed a mic, and started singing the first melodies and words of the song that turned out to be “We All Bleed Red.” From that point we all looked at each other and knew it was inevitable what was going to happen next. It was so easy to write music with those guys. The band appeared to be unstoppable, but [like] all things in life, nothing lasts forever.

AD: After releasing the second Tribe of Gypsies album, in fact titled Nothing Lasts Forever, how did you ride out the remainder of the 1990s?

DO: After the whirlwind of Tribe of Gypsies, from late 1995 till 1998 I continued to write music with several different artists and had just started toying with the idea of Revolution Child. But at that moment, I felt the clock running out [for wanting] to start a family. I always wanted to have kids [while I was] young enough to enjoy them, so my wife and I decided to start a family in 1999, and from that point on, it was all about family. Don’t get me wrong, I still had my music and played a show occasionally here and there, but I was and still am enjoying being a dad and dedicated the next several years to that.

AD: The Answer was a solid return to the scene for you with an early version of Revolution Child. How did the band get its start?

DO: Thank you. The Revolution Child lineup was De Autry Jones II on bass, keys, and backing vocals (a phenomenal musician) and Ron “stone groove” Thomas on drums. We later added Mike Thomas on guitar and backing vocals. Revolution Child was formed organically and was not premeditated at all. It was just a weekend jam session for a while, but then it started to gain momentum, and a great guy named Jon Sutherland (music journalist/music buff/manager) got wind of the project and said we should record an album.

Revolution Child: De Autry Jones II, Ron Thomas, and Dean Ortega.

So, we did, and Jon executive-produced it, and it was brilliant; he really helped us a lot. Revolution Child wasn’t just a band, but a brotherhood of great individuals who liked each other and worked well together. We could jam like no one else; it was as if we knew every next move before it even came out. We could write songs on the spot live on stage, and the best part about it was the fans would never know. They would ask after the show if that was a new song, and we would tell them, “no, we just made it up. I hope you liked it because it may never come back the same way you heard it.” (laughs)

AD: Fast forward to the present day. What led to the reformation of Revolution Child?

DO: Well, it all started again when an old friend of mine, Dan Sindel, reached out to me and asked if I wanted to start a cover band with him and a few of his friends. I told him I wasn’t interested in starting a cover band, but he was persistent and said it was only a jam session. I finally agreed to come by and jam, but I got bored doing covers as time passed. So, one day after a session, I talked with the bass player and drummer, and we started talking about our musical past and I showed them Revolution Child’s The Answer.

As it turns out, they instantly loved it, and we decided to give it a go. The result was overwhelming, with good energy. From that day forward, we started writing new songs and never looked back; thus, a new lineup was born – Hector Chaparro on bass and backing vocals and John Licali on drums and backing vocals. Since the new lineup has come together, we’ve produced and released two new tracks, “Delusional Life” and “Venom,” with plenty more to come. We plan on doing a few live streams and playing a few selected venues in the near future.

AD: You seem to be as creative as ever. What’s next?

DO: I’ve been wanting to release some solo acoustic stuff that’s been sitting on the back burner for way too long, so look out for that stuff soon. I want to continue to play as much as possible, write as much as possible, and feed my soul with the passion of music until I die.

All images courtesy of Dean Ortega.

After two years of only streaming of their biannual New York show online due to the pandemic, the Audio Engineering Society (AES) returned to their live event presentation format at the Javits Center in October 2022, and it was a resounding success. Part One of our AES Fall 2022 New York coverage (in Issue 176) referenced new gear showcases from companies like Neumann, Solid State Logic, Avid, and others, as well as a look at presentations from producer/engineers Susan Rogers and Jack Antonoff. Part Two continues with coverage of presentations from Produce Like a Pro’s Warren Huart and live concert multitrack recording pioneer David Hewitt, and Q&As with the legendary Bob Clearmountain and the inimitable Tchad Blake as part of the Mix With the Masters program hosted within AES 2022 New York.

David Hewitt with Warren Huart

Best known for Produce Like a Pro, his YouTube educational series on music production and engineering, British producer/engineer Warren Huart has also amassed an impressive list of album credits that include The Fray, Aerosmith, Korn, Colbie Caillat, Ace Frehley, the Ramones, and others. His YouTube series, which features equipment and microphone comparison shootouts, breakdowns on the production of popular records, and loads of engineering and production tips, made Huart an ideal person to moderate a Q&A with David Hewitt, who captivated the AES audience with his tales of being on the road, a number of which were not included in his recent book, On the Road: Recording the Stars in a Golden Era of Live Music (reviewed in Copper 170).

Prior to 1970, live recordings were primarily done in mono or stereo, with limited use of multitrack recording in the studio, and, in some situations, for  television. The Concert for Bangladesh was one of the first concert events to be recorded by a multitrack recording-equipped remote truck, and it set a template for many iconic live recordings throughout the 1970s. David Hewitt was responsible for a large portion of these records: Peter Frampton’s Frampton Comes Alive!, Aerosmith’s Live Bootleg, Eric Clapton’s E.C. Was Here, The No Nukes Concerts, Live Aid, Jackson Browne’s Running On Empty, and Neil Young’s Live Rust are just a few of the hundreds of live releases that he recorded with his customized remote trucks. Additionally, Hewitt was responsible for the sound on numerous concert films, such as Young’s Rust Never Sleeps, the Rolling Stones’ Shine A Light, the Chuck Berry tribute Hail! Hail! Rock n Roll!, and U2’s Rattle and Hum.

Hewitt was a surprise featured speaker at AES, and was not listed in the original schedule. Nevertheless, his unique experience and expertise, combined with the historical context of so much of his work within the larger body of popular music and the magic of live performances, made for a large audience of attentive fans and engineering peers. With the quiet confidence forged by decades of experience in high-pressure situations, Hewitt was relaxed, and humorously nonchalant about many of his groundbreaking accomplishments.

When asked about which of his recordings were his first which were the most memorable, Hewitt quickly replied that he was most proud of Rust Never Sleeps as that was, in his opinion, the result of an entire cross country tour’s worth of work in which every show was different, but meeting a high standard of excitement and professionalism.

Warren Huart and David Hewitt. Courtesy of John Seetoo.

He recalled his first remote recording gig, which was the first-ever using the Record Plant truck. Hewitt joked that his only qualifications were that he was a known commodity from his Pennsylvania studio work, had done live mixing in the past, and knew how to drive a truck. They had to traverse through heavy snows in Buffalo, New York to record John McLaughlin’s Mahavishnu Orchestra, and an up-and-coming Boston band at the time named Aerosmith. The Aerosmith relationship would continue over subsequent years and records, with the band’s Live Bootleg, recorded in their cavernous rehearsal space, as one of the few “studio” recordings to his credit.

Hewitt recorded countless shows for the King Biscuit Flower Hour live concert radio broadcasts. (The show ran from 1973 to 1993.) He was particularly impressed by a then-barely-known Bruce Springsteen as an opening act at Manhattan’s Max’s Kansas City nightclub.

Hewitt was a pioneer in setting up state-of-the-art recording setups in his remote trucks. The original Record Plant truck was obtained from Wally Heider studios. He recalled that the truck had been designed for TV shows and was used for the Screen Gems TV program The Johnny Cash Show in the late 1960s. Hewitt noted that the recordings made with that truck (which included The Concert for Bangladesh) sounded great, even though it was limited to 4 or 8 tracks. Hewitt ultimately replaced the truck with two more modern vehicles with 16- and later, 24-track capability.

Perhaps this was a secret to the consistently pristine quality of his live remote recordings: Hewitt assiduously avoided the use of compression in his signal chain unless absolutely deemed necessary, at which point a UREI 1176 compressor/limiter was his outboard unit of preference.

Bearing in mind the Tom Dowd (acclaimed recording engineer) principle of always having the machines prepped so as not to lose a second of magic music making, Hewitt made it a policy to always have two Ampex 16-track machines set to run concurrently with overlaps to prevent losing any part of a performance. The Black truck would later be equipped with an API console and two Ampex 24-track recorders.

Hewitt chuckled about his friendly rivalry with British engineer Eddie Kramer, best known for his work with Jimi Hendrix, Kiss, and Yes. Kramer decided to go into head-to-head competition with Hewitt in the remote recording business. Kramer outfitted a truck sporting the latest equipment, and landed one particular artist based on his Hendrix association. However, Hewitt had the last laugh when the artist came to the Record Plant to mix tapes recorded on Kramer’s remote unit. Kramer had apparently not adhered to the Dowd principle, and a performance that was supposed to continue on another reel was blank! The furious artist then became a longtime Hewitt client.

An impressive percentage of attendees at the seminar had all either previously worked with Hewitt or trained with his former assistants and were all professional engineers in their own right, and skipped out on a concurrent presentation from prominent mixing engineer Chris Lord-Alge in order to hear Hewitt speak.

[An in-depth interview with David Hewitt will be forthcoming in a future issue of Copper – Ed.]

Bob Clearmountain and Tchad Blake

Engineer/producer Bob Clearmountain’s work on such iconic albums as Born In the USA (Bruce Springsteen), Avalon (Roxy Music) and Reckless (Bryan Adams) did nothing less than define an entire musical era sonically. Many of his techniques have become standard mixing protocols for recording engineers around the world, such as the use of chaining multiple digital delays, employing multiple reverbs – and using the Yamaha NS10 speakers as nearfield monitors placed atop a console. As a result, the sonically unforgiving NS10s, introduced in 1978, became ubiquitous in recording studios.

The list of hit records mixed or produced by Bob Clearmountain is simply staggering, and comprises a wide cross section of popular music, with best-sellers from the likes of the Rolling Stones, Hall and Oates, Chic, Simple Minds, Alejandro Sanz, David Bowie, INXS, Huey Lewis and the News, The Who, Paul McCartney, Ricky Martin, Aimee Mann….and the list goes on.

While perhaps not as well-known, multiple engineering Grammy winner Tchad Blake is equally regarded among his peers for his work with The Black Keys (Brothers), Sheryl Crow (The Globe Sessions), Pearl Jam, U2, Al Green, Elvis Costello, Crowded House, Los Lobos, Tom Waits, Suzanne Vega (Beauty & Crime), Richard Thompson, the Pretenders, and many others.

These two incredibly humble music production legends held court for a Mix With the Masters presentation to simply enjoy a discussion about recording, past projects, and questions from the packed crowd of fans, acolytes, and peers.

Tchad Blake and Bob Clearmountain. Courtesy of John Seetoo.

Sitting in front of an SSL console, the two began the conversation by joking a bit about tinnitus, with Clearmountain admitting that he has suffered from it for decades. Blake responded with the confession that he has lost a considerable amount of hearing in one of his ears, and says that he will often check a mix by listening with his good ear to one speaker and then shifting over to the other. Clearmountain, a diehard SSL fan, pointed out to Blake that the SSL has a button that will automatically switch the left and right speakers so that he wouldn’t have to change position! (For nearly the last decade, Blake has mixed “in the box” – totally in the computer on a virtual console.)

Blake confessed to being in awe of Clearmountain’s methodology when he once observed Clearmountain mixing Crowded House’s Woodface. Whereas Blake’s approach to mixing is to try different combinations of level, EQ and processing to arrive at a desired sound, Clearmountain mentally calculates the settings on his mixes to the point where he tells his assistant things like, “This Lexicon delay should be set for 15 milliseconds, panned 60/40 left to right, patched into a flanger with depth at X, rate, at Y and then into this AMS reverb set for 30 millisecond pre-delay with a truncated Hall patch…” without even hearing the tracks in advance. Blake was astounded when the sounds of the mix just magically appeared with little tweaking required.

On the topic of favorite mixes that each had done, their responses were surprising: both producer/engineers favored obscure works from their discographies.

Bob Clearmountain’s favorite was the album Tijuana Dreams by the Small Stars. Similar to Garth Brooks’ fictional rock persona of Chris Gaines, the Small Stars was a fictional “loser bar band” from Reno that in fact, was the Austin band Fastball.

Tchad Blake cited Ron Sexsmith, the self-titled debut album by the Canadian singer-songwriter, as his personal favorite. Blake recorded as well as mixed the record, which was produced by longtime collaborator Mitchell Froom.

Of all of the records he has worked on, Clearmountain admitted that the only one he felt in his gut was going to be “a surefire hit” was Good Times by Chic.

Bob Clearmountain. Courtesy of John Seetoo.

As his wife Betty is the CEO of hardware and software company Apogee Electronics, Bob Clearmountain has his own suite of customized plugins (add-ons to digital recording software). However, he affirmed that did not influence his opinion on the subject of analog vs. digital outboard effects. Both he and Blake concurred that plugins have reached a level of sophistication where they sound close enough to the actual outboard gear that engineers no longer have to feel they’re in a professionally-compromised situation by using them. The choice of using outboard hardware versus plugins is now more a matter of preferring their workflow convenience and tactile manipulation capability (using knobs versus a mouse) than of sonics.

That said, he explained that Apogee’s Clearmountain’s Domain is his personal plugin and features his custom effects chains, including a number of cascading delays designed exclusively for Sony Atmos immersive mixing.

Clearmountain and Blake also concurred on a number of engineering-related questions, such as:

• A preference for simple miking on drums but an insistence on stereo room mics.
• 85 dB level is the neutral maximum limit before volume-related sonic coloration sets in.
• Basic mixes on a track with solid performances, arrangements, and no corrections needed can be done in an average of two hours, and then details can be added.
• Always start with a rough mix; never mix by starting with tweaking individual instruments first.

As a nod to the adjacent NAB (National Association of Broadcasters) show that took place at the Javits Center concurrently with AES, Clearmountain noted that the era of multiple big studios has been decimated by the convenience of digital technology and laptop DAWs (digital audio workstations) and advised that more jobs are emerging in post-production for video than for music, the latter of which will likely require people with a broader range of skill sets other than just audio engineering in the future.

New Frontiers In Stereo Recording: The Secret Menu

While live presentations at AES were universally welcomed back, the consistently high bar set by AES’s live streaming video presentations during the pandemic was not forgotten. Among the various video workshops offered by AES for Fall 2022, one, in particular, touched on topics of prospective interest for Copper readers.

In New Frontiers in Stereo Recording: The Secret Menu, engineer and USC professor of screen scoring and music technology Christian Amonson shared some of the approaches, principles and techniques that have garnered much acclaim for the fidelity he has achieved on orchestral and other classical music recordings by artists like Yo-Yo Ma, John Williams, and others.

Christian Amonson. Courtesy of AES.

Amonson noted that a key problem with various mic placement techniques, such as XY, binaural, Blumlein and others is that they are all “static” in terms of how they capture sound. In order to overcome their fixed aural perspectives, Amonson explained several of the different microphone arrays that he and others have incorporated in recent years that can have the sonic “perspective” of what they capture adjusted in real time. While some of these mic placement techniques have been around in their original form for decades, others are more recent and variations have arisen to meet the demands of new technologies      such as immersive mixing. These arrays include:

The Straus Paket – Amonson refers to this as “The O.G. of alternate mic placement.” It was developed by engineer Volker Straus and consists of taping an omnidirectional and cardioid pattern mic together and wiring them in series so that a much broader audio perspective could be achieved than with either mic on its own.

The Straus Paket mic technique. Courtesy of AES.

OCCO or O/C Array – this is an acronym for omni/cardioid/cardioid/omni, a horizontal bar grouping that has a stereo correlated cardioid pair on the inside and a stereo correlated omni pair on the outside, all on the same plane, which gives the recording engineer the choice to use all four of them or select pairs independently. This array provides a wide range of flexibility to accommodate changes in group configurations, venues, compositions, or songs, and even movements and phrases within a particular musical score.

Variations of the OCCO Array include the T-T Array, the Crawford Bar, the K-C Array and others, which keep the same principle but use different kinds of mics with specs to accommodate a wider stereo spread, or deal with unwanted reflections due to a venue’s stone or other highly reflective surfaces.

The OCCO Array. Courtesy of AES.

The principles of the O/C Array are not confined to live performance venues. Amonson explained using his modified array in the recording studio for a session by trumpeter Stan Curtis. This enabled Amonson to change the sense of depth in an instrument being recorded, and to also handle different instruments without the need to reposition the mics.

Another offshoot of the O/C Array is the OVVO, where the mic pair on the inside is a pair of selectable pickup pattern mics. This mic pair can deliver signals in both omni and cardioid patterns concurrently. Each pattern can be chosen individually or blended together concurrently during mixing.

The cardioid inner mics can be exchanged for subcardioid (for dead-sounding rooms) or hypercardioid (for excessively reverberant rooms) pairs at the engineer’s discretion, depending on which will work best for the music being recorded. Amonson believes that any good-sounding pair of mics can be suitable for these configurations.

One particular array that was successfully used for pipe organ is the proprietary X-Wing Array, which avoids the phase discrepancies of other mic arrays, resulting in a more “in your face” sound.

The X-Wing Array.

Another offshoot is the 8SS8 configuration, which consists of ribbon mics arranged in a figure-8 pattern, augmented by subcardioid mics. The 8SS8 array offers very wide room coverage, thanks to the figure-8 polar pattern on the outside mic pair. Amonson has successfully used this technique for orchestral recordings.

Amonson’s “secret menu” tips also include the following:

• Start with familiar microphone arrays.
• Look for contrasting mic pickup patterns.
• Play with contrasting vs. complimenting tone.
• Changing the mix ratios of the mic pairs is OK.
• Focus on the pattern/sum total of the sound of the array and not the sound of the mics themselves.
• Choose good-sounding mic pairs.

Amonson explained that when using multiple microphones in these configurations, the phase differences between the mics actually correspond more to human hearing, and can help to enhance a sense of realism when listening back to recordings made with these types of arrays.

His final tip was that there are no rules except making the final recording sound as good as possible, so adding additional pairs or changing the spacing or direction of mics in a configuration are perfectly fine if it makes the music sound better.

AES Fall 2022 was certainly a successful comeback event, and AES is to be commended on how they seamlessly integrated the best aspects of their live, in-person events and their streaming video presentations.

The Great River Road Lemons Rally was one that I couldn’t decide on. In typical Lemons Rally fashion, the route would take us to historic and unusual landmarks along the way. This all seemed interesting, but would it be interesting enough to spend five days driving up the Mississippi River in a questionable car?

My route to the rally was a bit convoluted, involving an interrupted major engine repair days before the last rally I took part in (the Rust Belt Ramble; see my articles in Issue 169 and Issue 170), which I finished up a couple of weeks after returning from the rally. Additional rally prep included some cheap upgrades – dampening sheets throughout the car to quiet it down a bit, a used Pioneer in-dash stereo to add Android Auto support, wiring for two 12-volt outlets in the trunk, a power/mute cable for the radar detector, and a tablet mount for the windshield.

Armed with vinyl graphics, a tool bag, my usual travel-related items, and a full tank of gas, I was ready to hit the road.

My trip to the start of the Great River Road Lemons Rally was no different from any other road trip, stretching a 16-hour drive across two days to get from home to New Orleans. The rally kicked off at the Jackson Barracks Museum early in the morning on Tuesday, November 8, with our usual collection of hoopties and weirdos (we wouldn’t have it any other way). Below are some of our “prom photos.”

The ’59 Rambler with the patina was driven by the winner of the Rocky Mountain Breakdown rally (with his 1953 MG TD convertible). The odd-looking plaid vehicle was titled the MINIvan – a Mini with a Chevy Astro minivan body shell attached to the outside of it. It was previously yellow in the Rust Belt Ramble.

Above: some of the cars at the Great River Road Lemons Rally.

Day One’s route took us from New Orleans to Vicksburg, Mississippi. As with any other rally, the checkpoints were numerous (18 on our first day, with additional challenges), and covered a lot of the history along the Mississippi, including historical markers, geographical features, and even an allegedly haunted Presbyterian church, opened in 1832, located in a small ghost town along a series of dirt roads (in Lorman, Mississippi), which I visited at dusk.

The supposedly haunted church.

Our first day also took us to the birthplace of blues legend Buddy Guy in Lettsworth, Louisiana…

The birthplace of Buddy Guy.

…and a house of ill repute where Mark Twain allegedly spent some of his more enjoyable evenings – the Under-The-Hill Saloon in Natchez, Mississippi.

The Under-the-Hill Saloon.

And bridges. Lots and lots of bridges. As our rally covered both sides of the Mississippi, we crossed many bridges during the entire rally. One other thing we noticed through Louisiana and Mississippi was the damage left behind by Hurricane Ian. Some of the rural areas had evidence of downed tree limbs or entire trees. In some small towns, there were pockets of areas where roofs or siding were torn off. Despite what you’d think, we rarely saw the river during the first three rally days – the levee along the Mississippi stretches through a handful of states until you get further north.

How was the rebuilt hooptie doing? By the end of the day…very strange. After the trip to the haunted church along numerous dirt roads, there was an odd moaning noise coming from the rear of the car. I did not suspect any demons had transferred their spirits to the car, but I feared anything from brake or bearing issues to tire damage. At the hotel that evening, I grabbed the lightbar and found I’d picked up a little souvenir, courtesy of the dirt roads near Lorman, MS and the aforementioned downed tree limbs:

The twig was wedged in quite tightly (which is how it survived nearly 60 miles rubbing against the tire), and a few difficult yanks got it dislodged.

“Stop, hey, what’s that sound?”

On Day Two we entered the heart of cotton country. One of our checkpoints was a round barn (used for cotton storage) in Chatham, MS. We also located a Cold War jet on a pole (a Lockheed T-33 located at the Mid Delta Regional Airport in Greenville, MS), the Washington County Welcome Center (modeled after a steamboat), the origin of the teddy bear (a series of wooden bear carvings modeled after Teddy Roosevelt in Rolling Fork, MS), and the survey marker for the baselines for the Louisiana Purchase (pictured below). We also encountered a few musical landmarks including a historical marker in Friars Point, Mississippi honoring Conway Twitty, a visit to the Devil’s Crossroads in Clarksdale, MS, and a marker alongside the White Front Café in Rosedale, MS explaining how tamales became popular in that region, with mention made of Robert Johnson’s use of tamale imagery in his recording “They’re Red Hot.”

Survey marker for the baselines of the Louisiana Purchase.

As darkness fell, I arrived in Memphis with two checkpoints left to go, including a drive-by of Sun Studios, and a “Memphis pyramid” (which turned out to be the massive Bass Pro Shop/Big Cypress Lodge), both of which followed my stop at Central BBQ for dinner.

Day Three’s route directed us to another musical landmark – the childhood home of Johnny Cash.

The childhood home of Johnny Cash.

Other highlights of the day include an art deco-themed Greyhound bus depot, the Riverlore Mansion in Cairo, IL, the Liberty Bell of the West and, upon arrival in St. Louis for the evening, the Das Bevo Windmill (a biergarten and banquet center), and the Gateway Arch.

Day Four marked a turning point. Not only would we see more of the Mississippi River, the weather would start to change. We had enjoyed temperatures in the 70s and 80s, but with the evening’s destination being Davenport, Iowa, the temps began to drop as we approached the Quad Cities, and it was downright cold the following morning. This fourth day, our checkpoints were fewer, with more scenic stops along the way. We had a few more historical markers to find, including one marking the location in Nebo, IL where the Vin Fiz landed (en route on the first transcontinental airplane flight), and another marking the Icarian community in Nauvoo, Illinois. The day ended with the crossing of the Government Bridge (also known as the Arsenal Bridge), a dual-deck swing bridge connecting Rock Island, IL to Davenport.

Government Bridge, Iowa.

Day Five started off chilly, with stops at the nearly abandoned Savanna Army Depot, Pink the Elephant outside the Lady Luck Casino in Marquette, IA, the World’s Largest Six-Pack in La Crosse, WI, and literally the inspiration for the entire rally, the Shot Tower in Dubuque, IA. (Rallymaster Jeff discovered the tower on a trip through the area, thought it was too cool not to miss, and built the Great River Road Lemons Rally around it.) Shot towers produced the lead shot used in rifles. Molten lead was poured through a grate at the top of the tower, and as the molten lead fell from the grate, the droplets formed into nearly perfect spheres, landing in water to solidify and retain the shape. The Dubuque Shot Tower is said to be one of two remaining in the United States.

Dubuque Shot Tower, Iowa.

With this being the final day, we only had seven checkpoints. We also had to be at the rally’s finish line at 3:30 p.m., so it was a light load of mostly driving along the river. It was nice to have a light day and a chance to see the different areas along and around the river. The finish line and awards ceremony was held at the Minnesota Transportation Museum (built inside an old train roundhouse) in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Inside the Minnesota Transportation Museum.

As expected, I won no awards, but the two rally organizers (Jeff and Eric) were discussing amongst themselves that it would be cool if I would find an ’80s Honda to bring on a rally, instead of the 2004 Civic I entered. We get more points the older and more unusual our cars are; repairs along the way also count for points, as does the “overall hooptieness” and theme of the car.

What really makes a Lemons Rally worthwhile are the fellow rally participants. Throughout a typical day, we will cross paths with various cars, making friends along the way. It was also good to see Jim again, after his rally win in April on the Rocky Mountain Breakdown (where he won in his 1953 MG TD). A couple of other teams from the Rust Belt Ramble made an appearance. And while they didn’t participate, two rally friends from Montana were vacationing in New Orleans and saw us off at the rally start. There’s also nothing more bonding than helping another team remove rally stickers from a rental car in sub-freezing weather, when said stickers were coming off in small, fragile shards due to the cold.

The drive home was uneventful, and I made it from Eau Claire, Wisconsin to Michigan City, Indiana non-stop before needing automotive and personal fuel. Early on a Sunday morning, I even blew through Chicagoland with nothing more than a three-minute delay due to a crash on the I-290 ramp to I-294. (Must I-80/I-94 through Indiana always be under construction?)

How did the car hold up? Very well! I averaged 33.9 miles per gallon, had a sporadic Check Engine light (for the downstream oxygen sensor, fouled from all the burned oil in the past), and picked up that twig. After 4,150 miles, the engine oil was only 1/8-inch (or less) off of the full mark. Problem solved!

My first rally next year will be the 2023 Rocky Mountain Breakdown, which starts in Casper, Wyoming and circles through Idaho Falls and a large swath of Montana. I have plenty of time to decide on which vehicle to take, and design more vinyl graphics to include this time around. The rallies give travelers like me the opportunity to see many things I would normally miss and roads I would normally avoid during my usual road trips.

All images courtesy of the author.

If you recall my installment in Issue 171, I recounted how my incessant pestering of Kevin Root of RX Reels drove him to silence me by producing a 7-inch version of his magnificent 10-inch carbon fiber spools. At that point, I had been treated to a visit by Kevin to the UK, who arrived with pre-production samples, all but identical to what would go on sale. I have now received the actual production versions, and they’re even nicer than the promise of the spools with which he appeared.

A few of points before I go into the findings. The first is that you need to visit rxreels.com to find the US price, as I am UK-domiciled and it only comes up in pounds. [At press time, prices ranged from $175 to $239 – Ed.] The second is that it is always worth visiting the site, as there are occasional discounts to be had, e.g., on ex-demo or slightly cosmetically-flawed spools. The third is that I am writing this follow-up because I have made it my raison d’être to support any venture which benefits the reel-to-reel revival.

To that I must add a qualifier: I haven’t tried every original-equipment, aftermarket or current spool available. What I can say is that I have, in the main, been disappointed with a few too many which lacked rigidity – here I would cite especially the 7-inch spools from TEAC – but equally I have been impressed by the spools used by the current labels offering pre-recorded 15 ips tapes on 10-inch reels, such as those employed by STS.

As the photos seen here tell you, I have now tried the new 7-inch spools on five of my 10 machines, mainly to show how wise RX was to stick with the natural gray of the carbon fiber they’re using for the flanges. RX opted for carefully-devised economies to keep the prices attractive, such as offering only the one color. As you can see here, it complements a number of decks. The way it matches the Technics RS-1500 and Revox A77 Mk IV might be accidental or deliberate but it matters not to me: I just love the way they look on those machines.

RX Reels’ 7-inch reel on a Technics RS-1500.

Here’s one on a Revox A77 Mk IV.

But prettiness is not enough to inspire you to part with up to $175 for a take-up reel for your 7-inch tapes, so now to the main part: performance. In no way do I want to open up the can of worms which would cause those of you with decades of hands-on studio experience to tell me how I am full of guano should I attribute to these spools any virtues whatsoever – functional or sonic. So I won’t even bother with the latter. As for the former? That’s another story entirely.

As I found out when Kevin dropped by with the prototypes, regardless of which deck I used, they seemed to spool more evenly both in the side flushness of the spooled tape and in the centering of the tape on the hub. The latter is an issue which crops up frequently with some plastic spools. (Remember: I am only interested in commercially-available pre-recorded tapes pre-1985, and do not concern myself with anything else, including blanks from TDK, Maxell, Scotch, Ampex, etc., hence my daily dealings with plastic spools.)

Close-up of the RX Reels’ 7-inch spool showing the aperture for the location peg on a Denon DH-710F deck.

This problem with plastic reels usually manifests in the tape stubbornly refusing to center itself, thus causing it to scrape against one of the flanges. And, no, it is not an issue with the alignment of my tape decks’ tape paths, tensioners, pinch rollers et al., as I have enough to try different machines with troublesome tapes. And it’s always the tapes, not the decks.

Why is this important to me? It’s down to my near-Herculean challenge of curating the 2,500 used tapes I’ve acquired, of which I still have 200 or so to clean up, re-spool and audition. What surprised me was the remedial effect of the RX Reels when I found myself curating a Loretta Lynn (R.I.P.) tape, Hymns (Decca ST74-4695), which had clearly been played only the Lord knows how many times. On its spool, it looked so poorly wound or stretched that I was expecting it to fall to pieces.

As has been described before, my regimen with used tapes is to fit leader tape, fast-forward the tape, add a tail, and then spool it back onto the original reel in real-time. Then, after letting it rest a day or so, I sit down and listen to it. With this tape, as with others in similar states of neglect, it spooled onto the RX reel a little bit better than its previous state, but not as perfectly flat, as discovered when running one’s finger along the sides, as I had hoped. But what happened after that is why I find the RX reels – how do I put this? – “therapeutic” as far as the tape being curated is concerned.

10-inch and 7-inch reels on an Otari MX-5050.

Lo and behold (sorry about the Biblical tone, but this was not Loretta in a secular vein), the tape when re-spooled onto the plastic reel was as perfectly flat as if it had just come from the factory. Decca’s plastic spools were heavier than most, while wiser veterans than I have pointed out that in some cases, plastic spools can be superior to metal ones for precision and dependability (see TEAC, above), but I was not expecting such restorative results.

I have now replaced all but two of my 7-inch take-up spools with RX reels. One which remains in situ is the superb reel that Pioneer supplied with the RT-707, and the other an unbranded reel which matches it for rigidity, but from now on, the RXs are my go-to take-up spools. The more cynical or suspicious among you will no doubt presume that I am delusional, attributing impossible capabilities to an inert device, but both my eyes and fingertips tell me otherwise.

As for my ears? Sonic improvements are subjective, so I won’t wind you up with what I’ve been hearing. But the wow and flut – no, I can’t bring myself to tell you.

Header image: RX Reels’ 10-inch and 7-inch reels on a Denon DH-710F tape deck. All images courtesy of the author.

Everybody sings the standards. That’s why they’re called standards. But it takes a special touch to give well-worn songs a unique sparkle. No doubt about it, singer and pianist Diana Krall has the knack. And listeners appreciate it: no artist has spent more time on the jazz charts than she has. Her albums, particularly Live in Paris, are also prized by audiophiles for their sound quality.

Born 1964 in British Columbia, Canada, Krall was the daughter of two amateur musicians who got her started on piano at the age of four. Jazz called to her early, and by high school she was performing around town with her own band. After three years at Berklee College of Music in Boston, she moved to Los Angeles and immersed herself in the jazz scene there.

Although she recorded her first album in California in 1992, she returned to Canada to have it mixed and released on Justin Time Records. She went on to make a name for herself as a connoisseur of the standard repertoire, working with impressive names like bassist Christian McBride and arranger Johnny Mandel. She also toured and recorded with Tony Bennett.

A change in her personal life in 2003 coincided with a shift in her creative life: she married singer/songwriter Elvis Costello and started writing songs with him. She’s also a gifted producer, often collaborating with Tommy LiPuma both on her own projects and on Barbara Streisand’s 2009 album, Love is the Answer. LiPuma died in 2017, and Krall’s most recent solo album comprises unreleased tracks they worked on together over the years.

Krall has recorded in styles ranging from bossa nova to music from the Prohibition era, always overlaying each track with her unique touch and selling the lyrics with her craggy alto voice, credibly expressive yet never overdramatic.

Enjoy these eight great tracks by Diana Krall.

1. Track: “Do Nothin’ Till You Hear from Me”
   Album: Stepping Out
   Label: Justin Time
   Year: 1993

On the advice of bassist Ray Brown, Krall started studying jazz piano with Jimmy Rowles while living in Los Angeles. As Brown put it in his liner notes for this debut album, the choice of teachers “paid off tremendously.”

On Stepping Out, Krall proves that she possesses the basic skill set necessary to be a great jazz musician: outstanding taste in tunes, the ability to attract and work with first-rate collaborators (here, bassist John Clayton and drummer Jeff Hamilton), and vocal and piano technique that speaks for itself in an unadorned acoustic setting. A case in point is her performance of Duke Ellington’s “Do Nothin’ Till You Hear from Me.”

2. Track: “Baby Baby All the Time”
   Album: All for You: A Dedication to the Nat King Cole Trio
   Label: Impulse!
   Year: 1996

Krall was nominated for a Grammy Award for her third album, All for You, the second to be produced by Tommy LiPuma. One can imagine how Nat King Cole would inspire Krall. Like her, he was a gifted pianist and singer with a completely original sound even when playing well-known tunes.

She plays here as part of a trio – Russell Malone on guitar, Paul Keller on bass. The small-group context works best for Krall’s conversational style of expressing the lyrics; she always sounds like she’s in a bar with a good friend, talking with gusto and humor about something that’s happened to her. “Baby Baby All the Time” shows how her intimate style is the polar opposite of the standard, smooth “crooner” approach.

3. Track: “Devil May Care”
   Album: When I Look in Your Eyes
   Label: Verve
   Year: 1999

Krall won the first of her two Grammy awards for When I Look in Your Eyes, which was also her first record for the legendary Verve label.

Johnny Mandel provided the big band arrangements for more than half the album, but a few of the tracks are small-group renditions using the Diana Krall Trio (Russell Malone, guitar; Ben Wolfe, bass). “Devil May Care” is a sly number by bebop composer Bob Dorough, best known for writing songs for the Schoolhouse Rock! TV series.

4. Track: “Fly Me to the Moon”
   Album: Live in Paris
   Label: Verve
   Year: 2002

Krall received her second Grammy Award for Live in Paris, which was her first live album and one of the best-selling live jazz albums ever. She also released an accompanying DVD version of concert footage from the 2001 performances at the Olympia Hall that form the basis of this record.

She’s accompanied by about a dozen instrumentalists – plus an orchestral contingent on a couple of tracks. But the highlights, as always, are the tunes arranged for small group. Her usual cohorts Hamilton and Clayton, plus guitarist Anthony Wilson, join her for “Fly Me to the Moon,” an especially good example of Krall’s graceful, fluid piano chops.

5. Track: “The Girl in the Other Room”
   Album: The Girl in the Other Room
   Label: Verve
   Year: 2004

Krall married Elvis Costello in 2003, and The Girl in the Other Room is a sort of wedding album. Working with her husband, Krall was willing for the first time to record her own songs. She described the process as her composing the music first and then explaining to Costello what she wanted in the lyrics, which he then polished. The track list also includes songs by Tom Waits and Joni Mitchell.

It’s not exactly a jazz album, but it’s certainly informed by Krall’s profound identification with jazz and blues. The title song, by Krall and Costello, has a mood reminiscent of the wistfulness of Billie Holiday mixed with the observational songwriting of Regina Spektor.

6. Track: “Little Girl Blue”
   Album: From This Moment On
   Label: Verve
   Year: 2006

For the album From This Moment On, Krall returned to the standard repertoire that knows so well. Every time she makes an album like this, it seems like she has found the 10 or 12 songs best suited to her. And then she comes up with another dozen perfect songs for the next album. This one has some real gems, like “Willow Weep for Me” and “Isn’t This a Lovely Day,” not to mention the European bonus track, “The Boulevard of Broken Dreams.”

But, perhaps because of its simplicity, Krall’s singing and playing of Rodgers and Hart’s “Little Girl Blue” is particularly effective. John Clayton plays the melancholy solo line on a bowed upright bass.

7. Track: “Feels Like Home”
   Album: Wallflower
   Label: Verve
   Year: 2015

David Foster, famed for his work with the band Chicago and many others, applied his decades of experience to produce the album Wallflower. The choice was germane to this particular collection of songs, covers of a wide variety of pop and rock hits. Unlike on her 2004 collaboration with Costello, Krall truly manages to separate herself from her jazz roots.

However, this is not to say that she ever sounds like any song’s original artist. “Feels Like Home,” first recorded by Linda Ronstadt, was written by Randy Newman. Krall performs it as a quiet, understated duet with 1980s rock star Bryan Adams.

8. Track: “Fascinating Rhythm”
   Album: Love Is Here to Stay
   Label: Verve/Columbia
   Year: 2018

Tony Bennett is well known for his many duet projects. One of the last – we must sadly acknowledge that his years of recording and performing are over – was Love Is Here to Stay. He and Krall tackled the standards repertoire that is their shared comfort zone, specifically the music of George and Ira Gershwin.

It’s inspiring to hear these two masters weave their distinctive styles into a blend that works so well, even through the complexities of a song like “Fascinating Rhythm.”

Header image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Chris Govias.

All plants are our brothers and sisters,
they talk to us and if we listen, we can hear them.
If we wonder often, the gift of knowledge will come.

– Arapaho nation literature [1]

You’ve seen and heard it before: American Indians playing drums and other instruments while vocalizing in a language you don’t understand. At least that’s how Native American music has generally been depicted in films and on television. But unless you happen to have studied and already enjoy the music of indigenous tribes, there’s much to be discovered about this rarely explored area of music.

Indian culture is closely tied to nature, and music has always played a meaningful role in this relationship. Although the earliest examples of Indian music can be found in documents written by European explorers, researchers believe American Indian music dates back many centuries before those documents were written.[2]

There are hundreds of Native American tribes throughout the United States and every tribe has music that reflects its own traditions. Music performances tell stories about a tribe’s heritage, wars, triumphs and defeats, are essential for ceremonies and celebrations, and employed for specific purposes like asking for rain or a successful hunt. [3] From invoking spirits and speaking to the dead, from singing prayers and songs to curing the sick, traditional Indian music is an integral part of people’s daily lives and  includes some of the most haunting songs and instrumentals you’re likely to hear.

The most important instrument used in Indian culture is the human voice. Solos, duos and group singing are common but unlike most European music, early American Indian music generally doesn’t include vocal harmonies and can often sound “out of tune.” [4]  For example, when people sing together they may perform on pitch (blended unison) or without trying to sing exactly together (unblended unison). The Inuits use throat singing which produces a wailing sound by tightening and loosening the muscles in the throat, and may emphasize vibrato (a rapid, slight variation in pitch) as part of the aesthetic. When several tribes meet to share each others’ music, vocables (words that don’t have meanings) are often substituted for actual words so everyone can sing the songs performed by other tribes. [5] Adding unconventional rhythms and accompanying them with irregular drum beats results in music that can sound unusual and complex.

Even though vocal harmonies may not be present, Indians do create harmonies by merging instruments built from materials found in nature. The three most significant types of instruments used by almost all of the tribes are drums, flutes, and rattles.

Turtle shell rattle made by Tommy Wildcat, 2009. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Drums are the oldest instruments on earth and the ones most important to Native Americans. Drums are thought to speak to the player: The vibrations help the player tune into the natural frequency of the earth and bring balance and renewal to the drummer. Numerous oral traditions refer to drumbeats as the earth’s heartbeat (the spirit of life) and rapid drumming can signal the manifestation of a spirit presence.

The drums are usually made using hollowed logs or wooden frames with animal skin stretched across the opening. Some small drums are hand held, single-sided drums on a frame; other small drums like water drums are created by stretching a moist, tanned hide over a wooden vessel or gourd filled with water. Extremely large drums are built so many men and women can play the instrument simultaneously when Indian nations come together to share songs and dances. The process of creating and playing a drum combines earth, air, water, and fire — all of the earth’s elements each with its own sound — resulting in an instrument that represents the circle of life. [6] Because of their significance, small Native American drums often become treasured family heirlooms: They stay with the family for generations and are played during family gatherings.

The Native American flute is believed to be the third oldest known musical instrument in the world. Created after drums and rattles, bone flutes date back over 60,000 years. Originally played for personal reasons like meditation and healing, one of its uses was for finding a mate. A common Dakota legend about the creation of the wood flute tells the story of a young man who wanted to attract the attention of a maiden:

“A very long time ago there was a young man who was very interested in a beautiful young girl. He was always trying to get her attention, but she never seemed to notice him. Whenever she was present he would ride his horse proudly, but nothing he did seemed to attract her. One day when the girls were down by the river getting water, the young man went down to the river and began diving off rocks and swimming across the river, to show her how skilled he was, but again she paid him no mind.

Dejected, the young man walked into the nearby old growth forest and sat down at the base of a long dead cedar tree. As he sat there thinking about this girl, a woodpecker landed on a hollowed limb that was over his head… the limb had been hollowed over time from the wind and weather. The woodpecker began to peck holes….tap, tap, tap……… along the length of this hollowed limb……..tap. tap, tap…….as the woodpecker pecked, the limb broke off and fell next to the young man…[and] as the wind blew over this hollow limb with the holes in it, he heard musical voices coming from it. He picked it up and found that when he blew into this limb and covered the holes, he could make beautiful, mournful music to match the feelings in his heart. He sat there for a time making up haunting melodies.

The young girl heard this music coming from the old growth forest, and it was such a soulful sound that it captured her heart. She followed the sound of music into the woods, where she saw him sitting there at the base of this cedar tree playing this first flute that was given to him by the woodpecker, and as she listened she fell in love with his music and fell in love with him. They went off hand in hand to live happily ever after.” [7]

Two Native American flutes crafted from branches by Robert Willasch, 2010.

The story is also a cautionary tale: It says that once you find a mate, you should put the flute away and never play it in public again. If you do play it in public, you might attract another possible mate’s attention.

The indigenous flute is unique to Native Americans and has a distinctive sound that differs from the flutes we’re more familiar with. [8] Wood and bone flutes were utilized for  many purposes including entertainment (e.g., the Lakota Tribes used the flute for courting and love songs), dancing, healing, meditation, and spirit calling ceremonies (e.g., the Hopi Tribe had flute societies that performed prayer ceremonies). Some listeners today feel there is almost nothing more relaxing and meditative than authentic Native American flute music because it enables them to feel more connected to the natural and spiritual world around us. [9]

Other significant melodic and percussion instruments played by various tribes include the Apache fiddle made from the stalk of an agave plant, rattles created from gourds or bones like small horns filled with seeds or other objects, and turtle rattles made from the shell of a turtle filled with objects like cherry pits. [10] Along with the drum and flute, the rattle was one of the most meaningful, significant and valued instruments used by most tribes:

An Apache musician playing the “Apache fiddle,” 1886. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

“When you see Native American rattles, you may not realize all that they symbolize. The rattle is an instrument of independence. It is a piece that utilizes what the Native Americans refer to as the three kingdoms or nations. The animal kingdom is represented by the container or feather decorations used on the rattle. The mineral kingdom is represented by rocks used for sound or the paint used for decoration. The plant kingdom is represented by the container (if a gourd is used) or the wooden handle of the rattle. The Native Americans realize that spiritual energy can be derived from the trance like state that can be induced by music. The rattle causes our bodies and minds both to respond to it. Some cultures believe that music can unblock energy within our bodies and thus heal us of ailments.  The beating of the rattle helps break up stagnant energy that is blocking the natural flow within your body. It can also help us focus on our souls, our cores. If you sit quietly alone or with friends and shake a Native American rattle, the music will help you clear your mind and open a doorway to a different emotional place.” [11]

Or at the very least, open your ears and help you explore a different style of music.

Salish Indians on July 4th Stand by Tepees Near St. Ignatius Mission, Flathead Reservation, Montana, 1903. Note men in the center playing the same large drum.

[1] “Arapaho,” in Indigenous Peoples’ Literature (Indians.org).

[2] The term “Indian” usually doesn’t include culturally and linguistically distinct groups like the Inuits (Eskimos). Inuits belong to the indigenous population of the Arctic and subarctic regions of Greenland, Canada, the United States and far eastern Russia (Siberia), and their history dates back thousands of years. These groups are nonetheless considered peoples of the Americas along with the Indians of North, Central and South America.

[3] Some Indians believe music comes to them in their dreams and is performed upon wakening.

[4] An attractive Navajo healing song for two voices in the newer style of harmonized chanting can be found at youtube.com/watch?v=3S2He2Ypvq4.

[5] Vocables are also used on their own as a musical style.

[6] “How to Play the Four Elements on Drums,” at youtube.com/watch?v=b6UOFw5jNy  is an informational video that demonstrates the sound of each element. Another informational video, this one explaining the significance of the drum, can be found at  youtube.com/watch?v=cXw4iHh71yc.

[7] Story as told by Phillip Lane (Phillip Brown Bear), a Lakota Elder, to flute maker Roger McGee  (wind-dancer-flutes.com).

[8] The Native American flute is unique because it has two air chambers: one located at the top, the other at the bottom with finger holes. Over time the instrument evolved and was carved using all types of hard and soft woods depending on what was available in the area and the sound the player wanted to produce.

[9] Try listening to “Heart is sad, The Morning Song” for flute at youtube.com/watch?v=h1pxzStAAwk. Stay tuned after that selection: It’s followed by a variety of chants and songs.

[10] “Native American Shamanic Meditation Drums for Healing Body, Mind and Soul” includes a rattle, drums and an accompanying explanation of Shamanism at  youtube.com/watch?v=XXsX7fNzJcE.

[11] “Native American Rattles” (Indians.org).

This article was originally published in Issue 115.

Opera is definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. My own children and at least one of my brothers detest it. I understand. At first, it can seem very artificial, almost comical. And television ads depicting enormous, bombastic sopranos in Valkyrie war dress don’t help that image.

But for those of us who have fallen in love with opera, it is as the great director Robert LePage once said “The Mother Art Form.” It has everything: drama, gorgeous music, beautiful sets, heroes, villains, and damsels in distress, as well as fierce, independent damsels. It’s also incredibly daunting (and expensive) to perform, requiring a full orchestra, complex sets and set changes, and a cast of singers who must not only remember the words, but also the notes and the stage directions. Often, there’s also a chorus involved. As a singer myself (although not an opera singer), I can attest to the difficulty of trying to do all those things at once, particularly if you happen to be in costume, and swinging a sword or lying on a divan. Opera is emphatically not an easy art form.

For its aficionados, however, it is an incredibly rewarding evening of theater. Many years ago (1977 to be exact) I had the privilege of experiencing Wagner’s Ring in his own theater in Bayreuth, Germany. It was an experience that I still cherish today.

The truth is, however, that attending the opera is expensive and – for many of us – most often experienced at home, in the form of recordings. And that leads me to an introduction to the subject of this article: Opera Depot.

Based in San Francisco and founded by Andrew Whitfield, a musician and opera lover, Opera Depot offers over 1,000 recordings of live opera performances, derived from radio broadcasts and other “unofficial” sources. It is a catalog of performances that you won’t find anywhere else.

So what about the quality of these recordings? Well, let’s start with some information from Opera Depot’s website:

“Accordingly, we go to great pains to make sure that we have found these performances in the best possible sound. We remaster all of our recordings to make sure that they are pitched correctly and devoid of clicks or other digital interference. If a recording doesn’t meet our standards we will not release it. If a recording has flaws but is of high historical importance, we will disclose these flaws so that you can make an informed decision and avoid finding yourself with a recording that you find unlistenable.”

That said, I’ll be blunt. Some of the recordings are in excellent sound, as good as any commercial release. Some of the recordings – particularly older ones – are in fairly primitive sound. So, to be clear, this is not a website for audiophiles. It’s a website for operaphiles.

And if you are an operaphile, what a treasure trove! You’ll find rare recordings by great conductors like Sir Thomas Beecham, Carlos Kleiber, Ferenc Fricsay, Wilhelm Furtwängler, Pierre Boulez and a host of others. You can also listen to some of the greatest singers of the last century in recordings that you won’t find elsewhere. I’m talking about singers like Jussi Björling, Jon Vickers, Magda Olivero, Sena Jurinac, Shirley Verrett, Boris Christoff, George London, Tito Gobbi and many others, often in roles that they never recorded commercially.

The recordings are available either on CD or as MP3 downloads, encoded at 256K. Personally, I would be happier if they chose to offer downloads in FLAC format, but given the variable quality of a lot of the source material, it’s not clear that this would make much of an audible difference.

With over 1,000 recordings in their catalog, I obviously can’t give you an encyclopedic overview of Opera Depot’s offerings. Instead, I’ve chosen to highlight a few of my personal favorites, starting with…

From 1935 through 1937, Arturo Toscanini made a summer home at the Salzburg Festival, leading a series of acclaimed performances of Verdi’s Falstaff, Wagner’s Die Meistersinger von Nürnburg, Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte and this – Beethoven’s only opera, Fidelio. All of those operas were recorded, albeit in primitive sound. Ward Marston did a wonderful restoration of Meistersinger for Andante, but that recording is no longer available, alas. Andrew Rose at Pristine Classical has done equally fine work with the Falstaff and the Zauberflöte. But, unfortunately, all that remains of the Fidelio performance is this fragment, starting with the Overture and ending with Abscheulicher. And what a shame that is! This a rare chance to hear the great Lotte Lehmann in one of her signature roles, with one of the greatest conductors of that work. The sound is, indeed, primitive, but it gives the listener an idea of the magic that was alive on that summer night.

Readers who have encountered my scribbles before will know that I’m a huge admirer of the late, eccentric Carlos Kleiber. I’m not alone in that admiration. Conductors like Bernard Haitink, James Levine, Riccardo Muti and Simon Rattle all worshipped at his altar. That said, Kleiber’s recorded repertoire is razor-thin although we know that he conducted a much broader repertoire in his earlier years. Here’s an example. Kleiber’s father Erich led the world premiere of this opera, and Kleiber-fils does a superb job of following in his father’s footsteps. In truth, I’m not a big fan of Berg’s operas, but it’s hard to argue with the effectiveness of this performance. The sound is excellent.

Berlioz is not a composer with whom you would associate Wilhelm Furtwängler, but this performance, from the Lucerne Festival in 1950 (sung in German) is a fascinating artifact. With a strong cast, including Hans Hotter and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, it makes for a very interesting listen.

This is a legendary performance from La Scala in Milan, featuring the great Maria Callas in the eponymous role, with Leonard Bernstein in the pit. Apparently, he learned the score in five days. Callas’ co-stars are pretty amazing too: Fedora Barbieri and Gino Penno. Medea is one of Callas’ signature roles, and this is considered one of her greatest performances. It’s in mono, but otherwise a very clear recording.

Here’s another fascinating historical recording. Otto Klemperer’s 1964 recording of Die Zauberflöte remains in the catalog as one of the great performances of this, arguably Mozart’s most charming opera. If it had been recorded with dialog, it would probably be the gold standard for this opera. Here’s a chance to hear the performance on which that recording was based, this time with complete dialog, and a substantially different cast, including Joan Sutherland as the Queen of the Night, and Hans Hotter as the Speaker! The sound is acceptable, but a bit murky.

And now, for those of you craving something in good sound, how about this one? In clear stereo sound, this 1969 performance of La Bohème from the Rome Opera features a young Pavarotti in glorious voice, with an equally young Mirella Freni (they were both born in 1935 in Modena). The late Thomas Schippers leads a beautifully-paced performance.

Alas, in less-than-ideal sound, this is nevertheless an opportunity to hear one of the greatest conductors of the 20^th century in music that he very seldom performed. The cast is strong, if not ideal and, as expected, the orchestra of the Vienna State Opera plays beautifully. Kleiber perfectly captures the bitterness and angularity of this music.

As an aside, if you want to hear Carlos Kleiber conducting Richard Strauss with good sound, there are also four recordings of Der Rosenkavalier to choose from, three of them in excellent stereo sound.

One doesn’t normally think of Neeme Järvi as an opera conductor and if you look at his discography, it largely consists of orchestral works. But here’s an opportunity to hear a rarity: Järvi leading a lovely performance of Tchaikovsky’s best-known opera, with a young Gabriela Beňačková and the fine orchestra of the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires. The recording is in excellent sound.

There are 17 pages (!) of Verdi recordings on the Opera Depot website. Choosing just one of those as an example is shuffling through an embarrassment of riches. I selected this particular performance because it is both excellent and unusual. Unusual, in that it was recorded in Tokyo in 1970, during a tour of the Deutsche Oper Berlin and features performers who are largely not associated with this repertoire, including Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Pilar Lorengar, and Edith Mathis. But it’s excellent both in terms of the recording quality and commitment that these singers give to their individual roles. Lorin Maazel conducts a crisp, idiomatic performance, backed by the wonderful playing of the Deutsche Oper orchestra.

If it was nearly impossible to choose a single exemplar from over 300 Verdi recordings, it is even more challenging for Wagner, with nearly 500 recordings in the Opera Depot catalog. I hope that the gentle reader will therefore forgive this Wagnerian for selecting only two performances that highlight the breadth of Opera Depot’s offerings.

The first is this performance of Wagner’s sparkling comedy, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, from Bayreuth in 1973. The 1974 performance with a similar cast was released commercially by Philips, but it suffers from a nearly unbearable Walther, in the form of the late Jean Cox. This performance is significantly improved by the presence of René Kollo, still in fine voice, in that role. While the sound is not quite up to the standard of the commercial recording, it is still entirely adequate and in stereo.

I also thought it would be interesting to identify one of the many rarities in the Opera Depot catalog. I could have chosen – for example – Nicolai Gedda’s only foray into Wagner, as the swan knight in a production of Lohengrin with the Royal Swedish Opera, in 1966. But this is an equally unusual treat. Pierre Boulez was a renowned interpreter of Wagner. In fact, the 1977 Ring cycle that I mentioned earlier was conducted by Boulez. But, as far as I know, this is the only extant recording of him conducting Tristan und Isolde. This is from a production in Osaka, Japan, directed by Wieland Wagner and featuring the leading Tristan and Isolde of their day: Wolfgang Windgassen and Birgit Nilsson, both in fabulous voice. It’s a swift reading, as one might expect from Boulez, but very intense and passionate. The sound is in mono but is otherwise very clear.

The 11 recordings that I’ve mentioned above represent nothing more than a toe in the water of Opera Depot’s immense catalog. Whether your taste runs to baroque, verismo or expressionism, or to Italian, French or German opera, you will find many gems on Opera Depot’s website. I wish you happy hunting.

Header image: Maria Callas, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/public domain.

Together, Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe have a distinct, even quirky approach to music. As just one example, every one of the 14 albums by their synth-pop duo, the Pet Shop Boys, has a one-word title. But more striking than that is the tongue-in-cheek wit and pop sensibility that make serious topics bubble with infectious energy.

The two met in London in 1981, drawn to each other’s love of electronic music, particularly that of Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark and Soft Cell. Electronica veterans Kraftwerk and the newly formed Depeche Mode inspired them too. In 1982, Tennant and Lowe laid down some demo tracks under their own steam. When Tennant took a trip to New York in his role as a music editor for the magazine Smash, he handed those demos to producer Bobby Orlando (a.k.a. Bobby O).

The hi-NRG (pronounced “high energy”) style that Bobby O had developed was the precursor to synthpop, and Orlando knew the next big thing when he heard it. He agreed to produce almost a dozen tracks for the Pet Shop Boys, including “West End Girls” and “Opportunities (Let’s Make Lots of Money),” which were destined to become early hits, but only when they were re-recorded under another producer.

That producer was Stephen Hague, assigned to them in 1985 when the duo signed with Parlophone records. He produced their 1986 debut, Please. Most of its tracks were new versions of songs they’d originally done with Bobby O. One of those older songs, “A Man Could Get Arrested,” was not released until much later as a bonus track. It’s part frustrated love song and part snapshot of a troubled London.

The second album, Actually, came out in 1987. It continued Lowe’s tight, bright style of layered electronic sounds as a backdrop for Tennant’s smooth, reedy tenor voice. Two of its big UK hits, “It’s a Sin” and “Rent,” had originated in the Bobby O years.

Politics were making a mark on the duo’s music. At the time, Margaret Thatcher was the British Prime Minister; Tennant has described Actually as having a vaguely anti-Thatcher message. The specter of AIDS – and society’s denial that it was a threat – is reportedly the topic of “It Couldn’t Happen Here.” This song came about as a collaboration with iconic Italian film composer Ennio Morricone for a film Tennant and Lowe did inspired by Upton Sinclair’s anti-fascist novel It Can’t Happen Here.

With Introspective in 1988, the Pet Shop Boys partook of a record-making procedure that was becoming standard for hip hop artists: using a whole team of producers. Six, including the duo themselves, are credited on this album, which achieved success on the UK charts thanks to the singles “Domino Dancing” and “It’s Alright.” Indie film buffs will enjoy knowing that Derek Jarman provided video material that was used onstage during the album tour, and he also directed the stage show.

The Pet Shop Boys went back to a single producer, Harold Faltermayer, for Behaviour, their 1990 album recorded in Munich. There’s a noticeable change in mood on that record, exploring the sound of slower, darker ballads instead of sticking with high-energy synthpop. The album’s singles did not perform as hoped, and the change did not last. Still, it’s interesting to hear the R&B influence on “My October Symphony.”

They went back to working with Stephen Hague for 1993’s Very, which proved successful thanks to the singles “Can You Forgive Her?” and “Go West,” the latter a cover of a Village People hit. Part of the winning formula was the complexity of the arrangements, using both electronics and session musicians.

In 1996, Bilingual produced a veritable hit parade of singles, including “Red Letter Day” and “Se a Vida é (That’s the Way Life Is),” which is one of several tracks with a Latin influence. Again, much attention was devoted to developing impressive arrangements: the personnel list clocks in at nearly 40 musicians. The polyrhythms and mixture of electronics and orchestral instruments in “Up Against It” demonstrates this well.

The Pet Shop Boys then collaborated with playwright Jonathan Harvey to write the musical Closer to Heaven, which would eventually run in London for much of 2001. Two years before that, they released those songs under the show’s previous name, Nightlife. Their next studio project was Release, unusual for its unadorned use of piano and guitar, particularly by guest guitarist Johnny Marr (formerly of the Smiths).

The duo kept busy with interesting projects for the next few years. They wrote a new score for the classic silent film Battleship Potemkin and launched two new indie record labels to help out other artists. They also filled dance clubs with their remixes of dozens of hit records, such as Rammstein’s “Mein Teil” and Madonna’s “Sorry.”

In 2006 they made it back into the studio for a new Pet Shop Boys album, Fundamental, which they co-produced with Trevor Horn. There’s a lot of political material here, including criticism of religious fundamentalism (hence the title). But songs like “Casanova in Hell” are vehicles for Tennant’s wry wit, imagining the unquenchable lady’s man trapped in eternity with no libido.

The albums continued every few years: Yes in 2009, Elysium in 2012. Then the Pet Shop Boys left Parlophone and started x2, a label devoted to their own work. Their first self-published release was Electric (2013), and it sold better than any of their previous 20 years’ releases on both sides of the Atlantic. The producer was Stuart Price, a DJ himself, chosen because the duo wanted a “fresh feel” and a “dance record.” They succeeded at both.

It’s fair to say that Electric is more about the feeling than the meaning. But because the Pet Shop Boys have always been electronics innovators, a scarcity of lyrics does not add up to boring tracks. “Fluorescent,” for example, offers a panoply of sonic textures.

The Pet Shop Boys’ most recent album is Hotspot, which came out in 2020. It featured a collaboration with the young British singer Olly Alexander, whose band Years & Years has a retro-indie sound that explores early electronica and R&B. The resulting single, “Dreamland,” finds the future blending successfully with the past.

Hotspot’s best song is the haunting “Will o’ the Wisp,” which paints a memory of a past time and a past relationship, now disappeared.

Like many 1980s pop stars, Tennant and Lowe know the value of their back catalog. If remembering the Pet Shop Boys makes you nostalgic, they’re ready to help you explore those feelings. The band’s 2023 tour is called “Dreamworld: Greatest Hits Live.” So far, no US dates have been announced, but keep your eye on https://www.petshopboys.co.uk for updates.

Header image: promotional photo, courtesy of www.petshopboys.co.uk.