Preservation of the arts

Our former director of engineering, Dave Pannanen, hand carves wooden spoons—a little-known skill handed down over generations of Pannanens. He whittles away in the quiet evening hours crafting gorgeous works of art. He is keeping alive an art form. Some art forms are worth preserving. Take, for example, the art of crafting master recordings. The heyday of master recordings began blossoming in the 1930s: a time when the UK's Abbey Road Studios was first formed; and into the 1950s when record companies built great monuments to their art forms, like the Capital Records Building; and into the 1960's and early 70's with the opening of Hendrix's Electric Lady Studios in New York City. Of course, those were the standouts. There were hundreds more, each devoted to honoring the art of the recording, capturing the souls of both music and the artists that crafted it. And like most art forms, over time it morphed from art to an industrialized production line model where masters were replaced with expendable cogs. And it is at this point where art becomes a commodity, paint by numbers, no longer expressing the essence of human creative skill and imagination. But, over time, we miss our art. And if enough people miss something the pendulum sometimes swings back in the other direction. Small groups of people look to revive that which once touched our souls. This is why Octave Records exists: Not to relive the past and all of its weaknesses (tape, low dynamic range, limited frequency response), but to honor the intent of the masters: To make recordings and capture music in all its glory by stretching the state of the art in the hopes of building a new standard. The arts that matter—the ones that reach deep into our souls—are the ones worth preserving.