When I was younger, I would always laugh at wine connoisseurs who would describe a drink with such dramatic expressions as "a fruity, nutty aftertaste with subtle hints of vanilla and oak balanced by a mild charcoal flavor."  I would be thinking "Get real! It's a bitter concoction of grape juice and rubbing alcohol that makes my mouth contort as if I had just drank dirty dishwater squeezed through a soiled sock."  Ok, maybe I didn't exactly think that, but I just couldn't understand how someone could have ever found traces of vanilla or nuts in something made from grapes.  I also didn't fathom how anyone could have eaten charcoal, let alone an oak tree, as a part of their dining experiences.

As I became more attuned to the differences in wine, though I am definitely still not a connoisseur, I actually began to understand how and why certain terms were used to describe them.  A chardonnay still doesn't strike me as having anything in common with vanilla ice cream, and I still haven't gotten the nerve to take a bite out of the oak tree in my back yard; but I have learned that it is possible to become so immersed in a hobby, be it wine or cars, etc., that a deep and analytical mindset develops in order to fully grasp all of the nuances involved with the subject.

I have several friends who are what I would call "audiophiles."  They are extremely devoted to listening to high fidelity audio equipment, and like wine connoisseurs, can use incredibly descriptive terms to evaluate a system's performance.  They are concerned with the location of their speakers in the listening environment, and what components are used to reproduce the sound.  In fact, I often joke about the guys who pay hundreds of dollars for several inches of audio cable.  They will play the systems for me, and I admit they sound great, then will say that the magic is in the details.

The fact of the matter, is that people who obsess about certain hobbies, probably do have a deeper and more analytical understanding of the topic in question.  I definitely can taste the differences in wines and I can hear a difference in stereo systems.  I think we all have things in our lives that we are so passionate about that we develop an acute sensitivity about them, if not a sense of elitism.  However, even though I think that I am obsessive about certain things, I haven't become so consumed with wine or stereos to invest thousands of dollars in them in order to find the perfect sound or the quintessential merlot.  In fact, and some of you may find this hard to believe, even though I spend a lot of time around guitars and gear, I would not go so far as to say that I am a connoisseur of guitar-related things either!  I'm definitely serious about what I do, and I have developed firm opinions about music as well as a preference for certain types of gear, but I also haven't gone to an extent that I know I probably could , in order to find the "perfect sound" or technique.

There's a great story about the renowned guitarist Eric Johnson, portraying how he can reportedly tell what kind of batteries are in his effects pedals by simply listening to them.  He has also developed an audiophile-type of approach to his equipment by analyzing and obsessing about every single variable in his signal chain.  He gets incredible results, but I know that most other guitarists and I do not have the patience or discipline to tweak things to the degree that he does.  Of course, most of us don't have the ability that EJ has, but there are some out there who create just as meaningful music without the "connoisseur mentality."

Recently, I've been working on creating a new studio....er....music room in my home. (I'll explain the hesitance on calling it a "studio"  though I need to get over that.  It is a studio by definition!)  I have moved my music equipment into a larger environment and am in the process of refining things in order to get a functional and good-sounding situation which is conducive to music-making.

Through the years, I've usually had a room in which to practice, record, and teach guitar.  I've used things as small as bedrooms to as large as commercially-leased space.  All have had their inherent charms and benefits.  I've never had any professional recording training.  Just about everything I've done on my own has been self-taught, for better or worse.  While I have put a lot of personal money into setting these situations up, I still haven't spent the type of money or sought the proper training necessary to have the ultimate professional setup.  I don't feel that my background or level of discipline merits that style of dedication yet.  Part of it is a financial issue, because it would take a huge investment to build a "correct" studio from scratch, while part of it is a commitment issue: I don't have the mindset or knowledge necessary to make such a project viable at this time.  That said, I still want to use the resources that I have at the present time to make my current situation as good as it can be.

As I began to lay out my new music room and hook up all of my studio gear, I began to realize that the new environment had some unpleasant echoes in it as well as a completely different sound than my old situation.  A lot of my recordings are done using instruments with line level capabilities, therefore room ambience has not been as critical to me as it would be for pro studios, with the exception of vocals and guitar tracks.  I still use mics for guitar sounds and vocals because they are necessary to get anything approaching the tones that I want.  I became somewhat frustrated with the process, so I called a friend of mine, who is a professional engineer, and had him come analyze my room.

My friend has run a successful local studio for a number of years, and he has received professional musical training before.  He seemed like the logical choice for helping me get started in a new direction for better sounds.  When he arrived, I played him some sample tones and he began to evaluate what was going on.  He would take a set of headphones, close the studio doors, and go out into the hallway and living room to hear things in as isolated of a manner as he could.  Then he would change the mic placement on the amp and make further notes.   Next up were the studio monitors.  The engineer took out his tape measure and calculator before figuring out some mathematical equations relative to the dimensions of the room.  He drew some angles and then positioned my monitors according to his figures.  These procedures went on for a little while before he came back with his verdict.

He said "You don't have the perfect room for a studio here.  Your ceilings are too low, and the width of the room in relation to your monitor placement needs to be different.  This is all not even taking into account the quality of the equipment you are using."  Believe it or not, these are the types of things I actually expected to hear when I called him to come over.  As painful as some of the revelations were, I had a general idea beforehand that I would be hearing an "audiophile" (which he does happen to be) picking apart everything in my signal chain in a ruthless manner.

My friend continued "Now, you realize that no serious audio professional worth his salt would go anywhere near the mic preamps in a Mackie mixer.  They make okay stuff for the weekend hobbyist, but there's no way you are going to get a million dollar sound with thousand dollar gear."  He was being blunt with me, which I respected, and that is why I wanted someone to lay it all on the line for me.  Then the reverb units were open for assault.  "You can buy a $300 reverb with the Lexicon name on it, but it's not going to sound like a multi-thousand dollar Lexicon reverb."

To make a long story slightly longer, we sat around for a few minutes after his analysis and discussed the philosophy behind the "audiophile mentality" and what it all really meant.  I pointed to a stereo I had over in a corner that I have owned for a long time.  I said "Look over there at that little Onkyo setup.  No one will confuse it with a high-end audiophile component system.  I've had it since junior high school.  Yet, I can go play a CD on it or listen to the radio and be perfectly happy with it.  It's not because I am not aware of a higher level of connoisseur-type dedication that is out there," I continued.  "I have heard multi-thousand dollar systems before, and yes, they are great.  But for some reason, I have never had the inclination to pursue that.  Does that mean I don't appreciate sound?  Does it mean that I am settling for less? (Actually...yes!)   Can I not get sincere satisfaction out of music because of it?"

I understand that I enjoy playing a handcrafted boutique guitar more than a $200 import.  There are quality issues to be considered.  Not that quality and low price are always exclusive, but there seems to be the norm of getting more when you pay more, no matter the item.  A Mercedes does drive better than a Ford, in my opinion.  However, the Ford will get you to where you are going, if not in the fun and stylish manner of the Benz.  I guess we have to evaluate our needs, means and desires when deciding how obsessive and extravagant to be about something.

After the engineer left, I sat down and did some thinking about my  music room.  I had felt pretty decimated by the opinions he had, so much in fact that I couldn't bring myself to call it a "studio" anymore, because studios "don't have Mackie mixers and cheap $300 reverb units with theoretically incorrect ceiling heights...etc..."  Studios are run by professionals and are designed according to proper theories and techniques.  Studios have expensive Neve consoles with Neumann microphones.  Some studios might even have wine cellars featuring vintage cabernets with "hints of plum and baltic birch! :-)

Before my admittedly sarcastic sense of humor takes over too much, I must say that I have recorded in studios with "real" gear before.  I have been acquainted with fine cars and have played famous golf courses.  I do know the differences!  So, I can definitely appreciate and maintain the proper perspective on where the engineer was coming from.  Many of his points made complete sense to me and I still respect his expertise very much.  He was not wrong in most of his assessments.

What I needed to decide, was how to use his evaluations and determine which suggestions to follow through with.  I also needed to think about the overall mission of my studio.  I additionally sensed an opportunity to draw an interesting parallel between this experience and the overall philosophy of making music or simply enjoying life.  (After all, I needed to have more stuff to write about here!)

I am not tricking myself into believing that I can achieve sonic results to rival what Eddie Kramer did at Electric Lady, in my studio.  In some ways that is hard for someone who tries to embrace the limitless possibilities of expression to admit, because it recognizes limitations.  However, I think that all great art, whether created by a master or a novice, begins with a spark and innocence of inspiration which runs through all levels of creativity.  There are recordings out there that sound like they were done on million dollar systems.  There are others that were demos done on pocket tape recorders.  The thing that matters is the expression and not always the fidelity of it.

I believe that the recent Beatles "Free As A Bird" sessions involved John Lennon's scratch demo tapes he did at home in his living room.  Ironically, Jeff Lynne of Electric Light Orchestra fame, who produced those sessions, has released some re-mastered ELO albums with some of his home demos on them.  I found those recordings every bit as interesting and relevant as the more orchestrated tracks.  In some ways, it gives a more personal glimpse into the artist when you can hear them not glossed over by all the technology.  The old Robert Johnson recordings certainly do not embody audiophile tendencies, yet they are some of the most potent sounds ever put on tape.

On a more mundane note, I determined that my studio should be a comfortable place to play, write, record and teach.  I want to be able to make good sounding recordings suitable for demos or handing out to my friends.  After making some adjustments in my approach, I think I have accomplished that for the time being. I strive to get the best sound that I can, but I am not interested in going off to audio school or buying Neve consoles right now.  Those investments might make a huge difference, but maybe I'm just not that serious right now.  I'm not sure that's a bad thing, though I did wrestle with that for a bit after the meeting with the engineer.  I think I came back to my senses and realized just what I am trying to do here.

I remember seeing a  magazine dedicated to home recording with a feature article on a guitarist I enjoy very much...Duke Robillard.  He had set up a home studio in his living room to write songs and even use some of the tracks on his albums.  The funny thing is that his setup was almost identical to mine from the mixer right down to the recorder and effects!  It reinforced that I might not be on such a bad path after all because he gets great sounds.  Of course, he was using one of those Mackie mixers that professionals wouldn't touch ;-) but it sure hasn't seemed to adversely affect the things I've heard him play.

Engineers earn their money for the most part.  The big-time studios  are busy for a reason.  The sounds they can help an artist find are pretty amazing.  However, today's home recording revolution has opened up a lot of possibilities for the amateur and pro alike.  The important thing I've learned is to keep your studio's purpose in perspective and find the right blend between accepting its limitations while pushing for the best sounds possible.  As I have said repeatedly throughout my Web writings (and will probably say many more times), the art of making music is a process.  It's a journey to learning different and ultimately better ways to make sounds and songs.

Perhaps I will be writing five years from now about my new Neve console.  Just make sure that if you want one, that you buy the model made from oak.  They definitely have a more complex flavor balanced with hints of definition and ambience not found in the decidedly less connoisseur models!
 

Jason

P.S.:  An interesting thing happened a couple of days after the engineer's visit.  I was sent an album that was recorded in his studio and found out that one of my audiophile friends had also received one.  My friend said the album was quite good except for the mix in certain places.  He pointed out a few examples of where he thought it did not sound as good as it could have.  I guess it's pretty fitting when one audiophile starts critiquing another audiophile's mix!