Thinking out loud...

[fragments]

Wub that brought a tear of nostalgia to my eye...it used to be awesome here to. And for the record I never got glass I'm my foot or lost my friends when I railed a gram of k...and I thought falling into the future for four hours was the point?

[wub]

Have touched on cassettes in this thread before, new trailer for the forthcoming Cassette Documentary is out now

[wub]

http://www.residentadvisor.net/feature.aspx?1923

Machine Love: Daedelus

The Monome man takes us inside the box—and explains the many ways he's breaking out of it.

Daedelus' music may not be easy to place in one genre or another, but it certainly provokes description. Over a dozen albums for labels like Ninja Tune, Plug Research and most recently Anticon, the American producer has crafted not just a sound all his own, but a musical texture that doesn't feel quite like anyone else's. It's dense, intricate and bursting with energy, and it bears the unmistakable touch of being stitched together electronically. But it's also living and breathing, at times to a startling extent. His latest full-length, Drown Out, is the perfect example of the human element Alfred Weisberg-Roberts has long lent his circuitry: it's a wonder of complexity, both in its multilayered production and emotional impact.

When we dialed up Daedelus at his home base in Los Angeles, we were keen to get a sense of how he maintains this balance in his music. His approach these days, we discovered, takes the best of both worlds: field recordings are electronically tweaked, 808's hits shape the impact of wholly unrelated sounds and exotic plug-ins send strangely organic ripples through the stereo field. It's heady stuff, but Weisberg-Roberts' obvious enthusiasm for the process made it an easy sell. He also let us in on his history with the Monome, the impressively simple controller that's come to define Daedelus' live performances—and become something like his MIDI-injected Steinway Grand.

To make your new album, Drown Out, you used a combination of hardware and software approaches, right?

More than your average bear, I would say. It's strange how a lot of people are breaking out of their machines more and more, between re-amping, having a signal chain going through 500-series boxes or whatever. I kind of take that ethos a little further in terms of hitting two-inch tape on some of the tracks, and on other tracks using real instruments, but then putting them way back in the box—way more than they probably should be. They probably should be able to roam free a little bit more, but that's my way of going about things.

Run me through the basic signal flow.

So I use Pro Tools as a DAW. Then I end up using—especially for this record—I'm using a lot of other rooms, a lot more interesting acoustic spaces to do the majority of the recording of instruments, and then I brought it back here to do the mulching, so to speak. One of the rooms I used is this place called the Pow Wow Fun Room, which is my step-uncle's studio. He's mainly a surf guitarist. He plays a lot with a band called Los Straitjackets.

I've heard of them, actually.

Yeah, they're one of the groups that has kept the flame alive for a very long time for instrumental and surf rock, basically. And the room is amazing—like the most amazing '50s- and '60s-sounding drums, two-inch tape, all-analog everything. You can actually go mono all the way in and out of the signal chain, which is incredible. No room that I deal with can do that. I also used a room called Pap Pap's Palace, which is a studio space not used too much but it's this guy Amir Yaghmai's studio space, and he did Gaslamp Killers' last record. He was doing some sound-alike stuff for Turkish funk on his last record, and he did it all there as well, so you just get a sense of the sounds that are possible. Like, real psychedelic, fuzzed out madness.

So just to keep track of everything here. You're recording music, you're recording sounds into Pro Tools, and then you're taking the recordings to these other spaces, pumping them into a room, rerecording them—

Sometimes that, sometimes it's the initial impulse gets recorded at the studio, I take it back to my house, do the mulching—



What do you mean by "mulching" here?

I'd like to say that my process, in terms of sample selection and processing in the DAW, is something that's more artistic. But I think "mulching" is probably the better term. I tend to take things really to task—like, I'll really reduce. Sometimes there's an additive process, but a lot of the times it's really reductive. You have a great drum-kit sound, and then I do everything I can to preserve the acoustic fingerprints that make it wonderful. But the truth is I probably manhandle it too much. I'm hitting it really hard with a lot of EQ—reductive EQ—and a lot of compression, which is also kind of reductive in terms of the signal. It might boost the overall signal strength, but you know how it is—it's like actually putting it into smaller and smaller boxes. I also do a lot of reverb treatments that tend to be before compressors, so as much as they expand, they're just limiting the sonic space that things are in. So, mulching is probably a better term than sculpting or some musique concrète term that I could use. [laughs]

I feel pretty confident in being able to take things down that particular process—[reducing], manipulating, sequencing—and then bringing it back to a room and putting it through actual analogue plate reverb, or spring reverb, or just analogue compressors or onto tape, which I feel does bring back some of the acoustic properties of things, or lets them breathe again in a way. And the breath in music is really important to me. Electronics, as soon as they hit these grid sequencers too much, they do lose a bit of their funk or breath or swing, or whatever it is. I'm always trying to increase that human component in the mix, I guess. Are you familiar with the term wabi-sabi?

It sounds familiar, but I'm not sure I know it in this context.

"Imperfect perfection"—I really am a firm believer in that. If things are too smooth, then it's wrong, it's obviously false, the CGI is too perfect and the illusion is too much. So I like it when things are a little bit—you can see the seams.

Is this a more recent development for you?

I used to love drum & bass, for instance, back in the late '90s. And that stuff is like—there's no air, because it's compressed to the max and really pushed to these limits. The highs are the crispiest things, and the lows are the boomiest things, and in some ways you don't imagine that a human made them. The same thing with some of the IDM gestures happening at the same time. All my early recordings were very much short of that. I always found them faulty. I was like, I didn't quite get there but I'll keep on trying. And nowadays, because of just embracing the technological limitations of things, it's becoming like, okay, well, the box is just a beginning point rather than this end place where the mix is all finished and perfect. I've been enjoying that headspace more and more, and I feel like the rest of the world's coming around to it, too. People are interested again in tape manipulation, even if they're not doing it outside of the box.

As much as you've been breaking out, you're still really interested in digital processing. The computer is still a big part of the music you're making. What are the advantages of the digital realm?

One of the main ones I always point to is full frequency. When I used to do stuff with actual instruments, you're dealing in very narrow acoustic spaces, and when you sew those acoustic spaces together you tend to have large gaps, and that's fine. For a rock combo, you have some things chilling at 500 Hz, some things chilling at 2500 Hz, and a vocal somewhere in that mix. You don't need that much fidelity. The song gets communicated. But with digital you can roam everywhere. I can have harmonics that just go up and up and up. That's one of the things I really find to be exciting, that you can tell stories that are at different frequency spaces.

"'Imperfect perfection'—I really am a firm believer in that. If things are too smooth, then it's wrong."

You have those upper-order harmonics with hardware, but you have a lot less control over them.

They're just—they're there. They're something you have to account for, both in your compositional process and then in mixing and mastering. You've still got to create space for everything to live together and not step on each others' toes. You have a lot of decision-making to do, but fortunately the tools are there to help that. One of the tools I started to used for Drown Out that I hadn't used on previous records was this special kind of compressor that, instead of compressing across multiband, compresses along the stereo band. So instead of compressing, like, the higher frequencies, it was more across—like left, right, center and bass being separated, and you could actually deal with the compression scales differently.

That's a really wild mixing tool.

I was sidechaining the sides to react to the middle so they'd actually kind of flap their wings a little bit, which I think makes for a great sound. It really does give you this option of having things more in service of each other. So much of dance music is about the mono space. It's funny: you have all these things that are dancing around, but really they're all straight down the middle.

A lot of club systems mix down to mono anyways—which is wonderfully immersive in its own way.

Yeah. I mean, a lot of people make music that's in service of a space. I still, for whatever stupid reason, want to make music that is good in headphones and hopefully elicits the kind of response that deep listening can provide, even though no one is going to listen to something more than once. Nobody's going to spend the time, but that's okay. [Laughs]

Well, fingers crossed!

I feel a little bit like Don Quixote. It's okay.

A record like Drown Out really begs that kind of listen. And you mentioned audio steganography—coded messages—as a tool you use throughout it. How does this manifest in your music?

Some of the songs, it references that idea simply in the musique concrète gesture of sound that is pulled from life that might have emotional meaning, like the sound of crickets or just the sound of ambient noise. There's kind of a language to that. Or the sound of a skateboard, especially to me, that's velocity to me in a nutshell.



Are you a skateboarder?

I was a failed skateboarder. I was beat up by skateboarders more than anything else.

We have something in common then.

Oh, fresh. I grew up in Dogtown, skateboarder center of the world. There's still something about that click-clack of skateboard wheels on concrete that's very special to me. All of that is field recordings. I thought it was very appropriate, even though it was one of those meaningless gestures. Somebody else wouldn't care, but I really wanted to work with people who I had a personal connection with. This record is a very personal record, so I had to keep that theme going.

Were there any interesting tricks or techniques you used?

You know, a lot of times that these were being recorded, it's, like, an iPhone.

It's a pretty good recording device, actually. The microphone's not half bad.

And one of the main things about any kind of field recording is to be small enough and out of the way enough that you don't raise ire from the thing that you're recording. If you had a Nagra on and you were trying to skateboard around it wouldn't work very well. So it was kind of compromised in terms of some of the sound quality. Some of the stuff had to be rerouted into stereo space, or had to be massaged, basically. I'm fully willing to admit that even though the sound sources are authentically of a space—I know exactly where those crickets are recorded—when it came down to it they couldn't just be let alone. They had to be placed sonically, so some amount of manipulation was happening.

There is a song that more physically does the coded language thing, which is a song that uses Morse code. It's nice because Morse code itself is a rhythmic language. There doesn't need to be anything more than a synth pulse or drumbeat, and yet it's there, it's telling a story to somebody who is listening. The whole point is it doesn't need to be there for the album to become fully realized. But at the same time, it's this layer thing. Every time there's a drumbeat, it means something.

I'd imagine this places some added importance on mixing.

Yeah, things can be lost in a mix. Things are very much in danger of losing their communication just by a single wrong move. A single reductive EQ at a certain place will totally obliterate a message in this case.

So was mixing Drown Out both an aesthetic and an intellectual process? Did you have to balance the meaning you were trying to convey with making music that also sounds really good?

Yeah totally. In this case, I really wanted to take it to a mastering person who could really do that. John Tejada did the mastering on this record— he's a genius of sound. He obviously more works in the techno realm, but techno is a good example of a place where a single changed snare or hi-hat can really change the entire song or the genre of the song. He did a fantastic job of expanding the sound without treading on it too hard.

How involved were you in the mastering process?

I know from experience that if you sit too hard on the mix, if you're there too presently, you're going to lose the opportunity of really taking advantage of what is going to happen [in mastering]. It's is a very important step, but part of the importance is handing it off and seeing your baby go to college, I guess. You have to let go at some point. If you hold on too long, you're going to strangle the thing. I was really interested in seeing where he would take things, and there was just a handful of notes. He really is a genius at sound, and I didn't have to do many notes, other than just pushing and pulling a tiny bit some of the things that were the outcomes and then it was done. It was so easy with him. It's crazy. I've done a few projects with him now, and he kills it every time.





Let's take a step away from the album and talk about the Monome. You might be this controller's most visible proponent. Tell me about your history with it.

I feel so incredibly fortunate that I came up at a time in electronics where there weren't many options. I came from traditional instruments and moved to electronics in a very purposeful way because of the possibilities. But I quickly realized that no matter the sonic possibilities, you're still very much tethered to this box, this laptop, or whatever instruments, and the number of gestures you could make were infinitesimally small. You could move a fader around and basically—like, is the record going forward or backwards? Is the audio high or quiet? That was the range of sonic choices you could make, and no matter how much you could make the sound dance in the box, when it came down performing it, it was pretty limited. I came up in a moment where that was the sonic challenge.

In 2003 I booked a random gig in San Diego, and I saw a young Brian Crabtree and Peter Segerstrom performing at a college with a prototype of the Monome. It's amazing what a single night can do, what a random gig can be. That changed my life, period. Not only was it this, like, incredible moment where I saw that it was able to manipulate samples in a way that I only had dreamed of; I also made a personal connection with Brian, and in essence became a prototype tester for the Monome to go forward. That was 2003. We can go all the way to 2013 now, ten years later, and the machine is still pretty much the same form factor.

How many have you had over the years?

I used the original prototype until 2008 or 2009. At a certain point it became pretty obvious that it was too precious—like, here's the first one ever of this thing. I mean, it's been featured in MoMA now, and it's just like, I really shouldn't be using this on the road. It's going to fall one of these days and smash into a thousand pieces, and some little bit of history is going to be lost from the world, so maybe I'll put this one away and embrace some of the units they were making more recently. The only real changes on the unit have been that it became bus-powered at a certain point, and the LEDs got gradient. But the actual unit itself has stayed pretty static. The software has made leaps and bounds, but that's just the nature of where the internal guts of all these laptops have gone.

How much have you customized the way you're working with it?

You know, I'd like to say that I've fiddled with the software—people like Brian Crabtree and this guy Galopagoose out of Australia have done these great manipulations to the software. But really I'm using it in the true intent that it was originally created. I've added some FX chains to things, just because I felt more comfortable with being able to manipulate things that direction, but really it's those fingers on buttons. The buttons are still tiny, and it still takes a little bit of accuracy and some wherewithal to be able to perform properly. I can't get too caffeinated before a show, or too intoxicated. Things can get messy very quickly.



With your background as an instrumentalist, does the Monome feel like an instrument to you?

Oh my God, yes. I've actually learned over time how much all these different devices feel like instruments. There are some wonderful innovations happening on the controller side that we could talk about, but the actual order of physical controllers that are coming out, they're all the same. Your finger has to touch a button and push it down, a fader needs to move around. The thing that's different is the actual components. I think that the majority of people don't necessarily think about how squirrelly some of these buttons are on some of these devices, especially the cheaper devices. You can actually physically push a button and not have it activate, just because of where you're pushing on the button. There's a squishiness—a thing that I've been made really aware of, that feels almost like how the difference between a cheap upright piano and a Steinway Grand. This is, of course, the cheesiest thing I've ever said, but I really feel like I'm playing the Grand.

I know it's a live tool for you, but does the Monome come into play in the studio at all?

The software options are becoming really compelling on that side where you can get really unique sounds. I haven't used it on this new record, for instance, just because of the way I wanted things to breathe. I wanted a sound that I could then manipulate later rather than feel beholden to there. That is the one thing I've learned when I use the Monome in the studio. When I take those same songs away from the studio space and use them on the Monome, they tend to want to become Monome-ish again. There's just a feel to it. It's probably my own imagination's limitation.

From kind of the opposite end of things, the 808 has been a critical part of your studio setup recently, too.

This is something I'm really happy to talk about, because the 808 is such a storied instrument in electronics. It casts a large shadow. There's whole genres based on just the kick or the snare or the cowbell sound. As soon as you turn it on and start working, you hear every single gesture that's happened in electronic music since its advent. It's this crazy machine of history, and it's really hard not to be beholden to it in that way. I've found myself constantly like, "Oh my god! I know exactly what song did this pattern!" I really liked that fact that the machine itself, although it has all that presence, it still has sounds to give.

Yeah. So have you been trying to use it in ways that take it outside of its usual associations?

Completely!

It turned up on Drown Out?

Yeah, almost every track has some 808 in it. Sometimes it's not actually using the sound of the 808 itself, it's using the 808 as an impulse source. It has a very specific decay and very specific ways you can manipulate decay. It's actually one of the first drum machines where you could really mess with the length of the kick, and that's what leads to the famous boomy 808 kick, that goes on and on forever. It's very special in that regard, but it also has an impulse.

Are you familiar with the term keyed gating? It's not unlike sidechain compression—in that case you're using the compressor as it's opened and closed or impulsed by a different sound source. Keyed gating is much the same, where you're using a different sound source to open and close the gate. Now, with what the gate is listening for, you have a lot of range and control, obviously depending on the kind of gate you're using. And the 808, with its long kick, for instance, sends a really interesting impulse. Say I was controlling some arpeggiated synths. As much as it might be in the box, because of the kind of control I want to have over the synth, in terms of the exact kind of arpeggiation and how it wants to start and stop, I want to use a more analogue source to open and close that synth sound, so that it feels more real—more fingers on keys basically. That 808 kick has that rumbliness that I wanted to utilize to be able to do that.



That's really cool. So you're able to get the outline of the 808 sound and mold other things to it. It's almost like convolution.

Yeah, it's kind of like convolution. If you have a jumble of instruments in a mix, the compressor is listening to things that we can't—it's listening for what's loudest or quietest. I really appreciate that. There's a communication that happens between all these instruments no matter what that we can easily ignore. And it's funny, it's like—one of the reasons that I don't use Live, the audio engine that it utilizes is actually pretty loud in a mix. When you hear someone performing with Live, that's all I can hear sometimes, is the engine.

It's not known for being particularly transparent. And I think you can also hear Live in rhythms, in the way it quantizes.

Exactly. And I don't think it's a negative, necessarily. It's just a choice that people are making, even if they're making it unconsciously. And it's worthwhile to be conscious of those choices—at least personally I find it worthwhile to be conscious of those choices, and to try to use them for our advantage, embrace it as being an extra sound source even if it's something that isn't supposed to be heard.

[wub]

http://www.residentadvisor.net/feature.aspx?1325

Machine love: D-Bridge

RA journeys to the revered drum & bass producer's studio to talk synths, samples and sensimilla.

Darren White is what you might call a "thinking man." This isn't in the academic sense of the term—but track White's career back from the early '90s and you can almost signpost his many moments of re-evaluation. There were the anthems of Future Forces Inc he produced alongside Jason Maldini for Renegade Hardware. Then came the bangers of Bad Company, the drum & bass super-group the pair formed with Michael Wojcicki and Dan Stein. And now? Well, now we have Autonomic.

These distinct chapters are also reflected in his studio set-up. Learning the ropes when he did, White was schooled in the ways of hardware synths and samplers, but enthusiastically joined the digital revolution of the late '90s, to the point at which by 2006 he was writing on little more than a laptop. The latest incarnation of dBridge—in the studio and on record—is thanks in no uncertain terms to the reciprocal relationship he subsequently formed with Al and Damon of Instra:mental. They held White up as one of the few drum & bass artists they could still identify with, while in turn their racks of outboard gear and improvised approach to composition completely revitalized White. From the melting pot of sparse yet melodically rich arrangements came a podcast, a mix album, a record label, a club night and the sense that Autonomic had indelibly altered the drum & bass landscape.



So you were just telling me about when you stopped smoking weed—that was a big turning point for you, right?

Yeah, massive. Massive.

Musically, psychologically?

Yeah, because it's that thing of, you know, you get into the zone with weed, which is creative in a lot of ways, definitely. You kind of get in a bubble and you're just vibing out, but I just started to think when I...I think it was after I stopped, I actually listened back to some of the things I'd done whilst under the influence, and they weren't as good as I'd remembered them being. You're definitely enjoying the moment, but it's...nah—wasn't feeling it. I just think, motivation-wise...I didn't have the motivation to get it done. Get the album [The Gemini Principle] done, work on it, finish it.

When did you stop smoking?

That would have been around the time of the album, so that was about 2007.





OK because I wanted to ask you about an interview you did with RBMA in 2006. At that time you were almost exclusively producing off a laptop. And now I understand you're producing using almost exclusively hardware. What changed?

Just going back to what I used to do. When I was with Future Forces and Renegade Hardware it was all outboard; even Bad Company. I think whilst in Bad Company the transition to the whole digital realm was really starting to take over. So it was, actually more than anything, working with Instra:mental that really helped. I was going round there—they've got the same thing—they've got exclusively outboard, and it was just nice to have that hands-on feel again, of being able to tweak some knobs.

And the way they had their studio set up as well, which I liked, we could all play at the same time. Whereas in a traditional [setup] with a laptop, it's just one chair, one computer, one screen. If you're working with people they're just looking over your shoulder. I dunno, it's restricted and it doesn't really lend itself to collaborations.

Do you think that when you first become enamoured by software it was simply because it was new?

Nah, it wasn't really new, as such. I suppose with the digital stuff, yeah I liked the idea of "Oh god, I can save all my presets now, I can recall everything." Whereas now if I do a track I have to take a picture of the EQ settings and things like that.

Does sampling still form the basis of what you're doing these days?

Yeah definitely cus I've always been sample-based. And I've really got into outboard synths; only in the last sort of five, six years getting back into synths. Getting into that was realising all I was doing was sampling what other people were doing on synths. So it's like, well, rather than do that, why don't I try and make the sample myself?

Did you have synthesis skills which you carried over from the early days, or did you have to pick up new skills when you went back to the hardware?

Oh yeah, definitely had to pick up new skills. I'm still learning.

Do you usually start from scratch when you're programming?

More often than not. I generally start with a beat and I try and sculpt something that would work around that.

What are you favouring synth-wise at the moment then?

The [Korg] Mono/Poly is one, definitely one of my favourites. [It's] just quite sleazy-sounding. And it's got a really good—amazing—arp section on it as well, which is something I'm still learning about. And as well now this guy I've been working with on my label—Consequence—he's coming over, bringing more bits to the studio, so there's actually going be a lot more stuff in here, more keyboards and stuff.

So you're combining studios, almost?

Yeah, he's brought over these two Moogerfoogers. He's got some other synths coming in as well. Just gonna see what happens, but I think...That's what I liked about working with Instra:mental. Even though we're not accomplished musicians, there's that kind of band-like element, and there's this whole sort of...messy noise going on, but for a brief moment, sometimes you get it right, altogether at the same time.

How do those sessions work? Would you just go over there and jam for the day?

Yeah, it was. I think when you've got a bigger space you can, people can, concentrate on what you're good at. Al—Boddika—he's basically the beats and mixing, on the mixing desk, that's what he's really good at. So we can all be sitting around while he's getting the beats together and just be jamming and making sounds on these things; literally just jamming for a whole day. I remember one of the last sessions we had Skream up there as well—it must have been about a good eight, nine hours of just noise, and not much going on. And you think you're trying to get a track together and it's like "No, it's not working" and then suddenly within the last hour, something just comes together. I just really love that kind of thing.

What do you personally take away from those sessions?

Gear lust. [laughs] They've got the joint studio and they've got separate stuff and we all talk to each other about bits of kit that we want. Right now I've got quite a good selection of synths—about 15-odd synths. You're kind of like, "OK, let's move on now." I want to get into outboard dynamics, like compressors, limiters and EQs, and that's a whole other area of addiction.

So I think what I really got out of those sessions was just the falling back in love with the outboard and I suppose the subtleties of it, and that individuality that it gives you. I was discussing with someone else before—maybe even an interview—but back in the early days of drum & bass and jungle you had crews, and you had camps, and they all had their own sounds. You know, Virus had their sound, Full Cycle, but what was really a part of that sound was also their choice of equipment, those little things: what sampler they used, what desk they used, what compressors was all part of their sound. As well as their choice of samples. And I think you can hear that with Instra:mental. I can hear, they've got their sound, and it's through their choice of equipment. I kind of want to go back to that.

Is there specific gear that defines the "Autonomic sound"?

The [Mini] Moog was a big part of it, if I had to pin it down to one machine. But I think it is an amalgamation of a few things, like say Al—either what he would do on the mixing desk and some of the outboard compressors, just our choice of sounds that we'd make via these synths, I think is what defines it.



Would you say that a melody is the main starting point for a new track?

Personally, it's always drums, always has been drums; the rhythm. That drives what it is I'm doing. And then from there it's literally what kind of mood I'm in.

When you say you're establishing a rhythm, would you get the full drum section sorted out before moving on to other things?

Not totally, no, just the basic foot and snare rhythm: foot, snare, hi-hat. And then you sort of embellish as you're going along, as you're adding layers and chords. There may be other bits of percussion you feel could fit within what it is you're doing. Yeah, for me it's always been the break or the percussion pattern first.

And what are you programming those on at the moment?

More recently, I've been using Native Instruments' Maschine. I bought it about a year ago when it first came out.

Are you someone who tends to experiment or goes into the studio with set ideas?

A bit of both cus I've also been using Ableton as well. I bought that not too long ago, and I quite like what that does as well, just in terms of its MIDI effects and the control over my outboard that it gives me. And also rhythmically as well, you can get some quite good things out of it.

What do you mean by that?

I don't know…I like things that make me look at samples in a different way and the MIDI on there isn't the greatest but I can fuck around with the placement of things and then you can easily affect the drums and get these quite interesting drum patterns out of it. And also cus I got this whole Max for Live in there.

Have you been using that much?

Yeah, I've been trying to get my head round of it. It's bloody complicated, but I'm really just scratching the surface with it. You know I'd love to be able to work out how to build my own patches, but at the same time…

It's just a can of worms, isn't it?

Yeah, I'm not sure I want to get into it. [laughs]

Have you done any modular software-style stuff before?

No, I know a few people who do, and I had ideas for patches and I asked people to make me patches. Me and Drama (Damon) were thinking about going to a Max MSP course at Goldsmith's. So we were both like, "Should we go on it? Should we?" [laughs] It is another can of worms.

"I fucking hate mixing."

What would you hope to get out of it?

I suppose just be able to build patches that are specific to you. Whether it's sort of rhythm patches, or something that affects your music in a way that only you can, which is unique to you.

Is this something you continually have in the back of your mind: am I sounding like someone else?

Yeah, I think you do, but I think there's enough things that I do that makes things sound hopefully unique to me. I think it used to be my choice of samples; that was a big part of what defined my sound, and how I'd put them together. The tracks that I do and I give to people, they still say, "Yeah, it sounds like a dBridge track," but I don't know what that actually is, personally. But I think with me singing, that's given me that extra thing of standing out from everyone else, cus the simple fact is, no one else can sound like me when they sing. But little bits of equipment can add to what it is that makes you, you. The Moog has got its own sound.

But as one of the very first mass-market synths is it still possible to sound unique with it?

[I don't know] Whether it's a myth or not but everyone sounds slightly different from the other, no two are the same. I could be wrong on that—but it's just a fucking beast. Once you start putting it through outboard effects and just adding that extra dimension to it…

What do you use it for specifically?

Basses. I've been multi-sampling it, actually. Me and Instra:mental are doing that. Cus obviously it's a mono synth, we started multi-sampling so we could make the sounds poly as well, getting that was another aspect of it which was really cool. Making pads and strings that you wouldn't normally think that you could get out of it, but you can. I think there're some tracks that we've done which have what would be considered lead lines, turned into strings. So it has still, even to this day, got its uses—the bass is ridiculously low, the resonance and the mids will blow any eardrum given half a chance. [laughs]

What are some of the effects you put it through?

I use the Eventide Ultra-Harmoniser. Even just going through the presets, I haven't even gone through all of them. What I like to do, once you've found a sound, is record it in and so you've then still got the option of being able to use the digital—you can add digital effects on top of it, as well. So at the moment I've just got two outboard effects units, but that's something I want to rectify.

Are you doing all your mix-downs "in the box"?

At the moment there are certain kinds of things I have to do within there, just because I haven't actually got the equipment that I want. So I'm still building; I want more compressors, EQs, just limiters and whatnot. I want ideally to get to the stage Damon is at now: he's pretty much just using the computer as a multi-tracker. You know, and even then, it'd be nice to get away from not having to use that, if there was some other option.

Do you feel pretty competent on the mixing side of things?

I hate mixing.

Really?

I fucking hate it, always have.



Why?

Cus I don't think I'm very good at it. Yeah, it's not my strong point, which is why hopefully—he doesn't even know it yet—when Consequence is coming in here, he's going to be mixing down all my tracks. [laughs] Cus I like his mix-downs, and I think there's a mistake that a lot of people make, that they think that they're something that they're not, and a lot of it is mastering or engineers. That's why it always weirded me out that people sort of, cussed producers who didn't know how to use a sampler or didn't know...you know like Goldie, who doesn't know how to use this equipment, but that doesn't matter, why should he need to know how to do it?

Let the person who does know how to do it, do it and do it well, so that you can concentrate [on other things]. The same way you look at bands, is like, a band will go in, record, they'll have an engineer and the engineer will tell the band to fuck off and let him mix it. Working with Instra:mental—Al—what was the point of me trying to get involved on the mix-down, when that's what he's bloody good at? So I do it out of necessity but I don't like doing it.

What is it specifically that turns you off so much about it?

Because I'm not sure that I'm doing it right. In my head and in my ears I've got this vision of how I want things to sound and I can't get it. And I think the problem is because I haven't got a million pound studio, with all this great outboard and a 72-track SSL desk. I listen to albums like Depeche Mode's Violator and I just listen in my headphones and it's like, "Oh god, why can't my stuff sound like this?" And it bugs the hell out of me, and I know Instra:mental have the same thing as well. He'd always be, especially Al, writing his stuff and he'd be like [groans], so frustrated.

What happens, you get caught up in it, you're kind of like, "It doesn't sound right, doesn't sound right. Fuck that, OK, get another piece of equipment. Right, all those tracks that I've built then are shit, because they don't sound right, because I didn't have this now. All those tracks are dead to me." [laughs] In a way, you're kind of moving yourself forward, but at the expense of some of your music.

Logic is your main DAW currently?

Yeah, Logic's my front-end, my DAW.

How do you split the work between Ableton and Logic?

There are tracks—ideas—that I've got together in Ableton, but I don't feel comfortable completing them in Ableton. I don't feel comfortable arranging them, or just doing those little tweaks and cuts that I can do in Logic, just because I've had years of experience with it.

"Why's it always the bloody ones
I put no real effort into are
the ones that everyone likes?"

So you'd complete your arrangements in Logic. How do you approach this?

I think at the moment, because a lot of my stuff's song-based, I'm generally working out verse sections and chorus sections. So once I feel comfortable that I've got those two sections built, I can expand from there on; it's like "How am I going to get to those sections?"

And when you say section, would that be...

Like a 16-bar loop of sorts, of each thing. And in my head as well I may even—before I even arrange it out—have melodies sung over it or vocal ideas over each section, so I can kind of hear and play it out before I actually arrange it out. So yeah, it is mainly two vocal/chorus sections at the minute, that's how I seem to work.

Is there a typical length of time it would take you to get to the arrangement stage?

Not really. Every track's different. I started a thing not too long ago where I wanted to write a track a day, from start to finish, that was it. And I did, I managed—I think I got about eight, nine tracks done, one track every day, not overthinking it, not overanalysing it too much, just trying to catch a vibe. Cus there was a point where I started to sit down and look at some of the tunes, the tunes that people liked of mine, and invariably it was always the ones that took me the least amount of time to do.

Probably one of my biggest tracks, "True Romance," I think I came back from a club and I'd written that track and mixed it down the next day...It always annoyed me in some ways—"Why's it always the bloody ones I put no real effort into are the ones that everyone likes?" But the ones I personally like are the ones I spent fucking days or months on. Even to one point, there's a track on my album that took seven years to finally finish...I've just been picking at it every now and then, going back to it, going back to it.

Do you tend to do that a lot?

Yeah, I've got old tracks that I'll load it up and be like, "Yeah, it's still good" then I'll add another sound and then I'll come back to it in six months, see where it's at.



Do you think you've always felt most comfortable at 170 BPM?

Yeah, 170 or half-time—85 hip-hop—that's where I feel comfortable. I can do what I want to do, but more so—just because I think I've grown up with that, and I know those tempos and I'm comfortable with knowing the music. More recently, since getting into a wider variety of electronica and listening to it, I'm starting to think, "OK, maybe I can do what it is that I do at a different tempo." I've been giving it a go, and yeah, some of it's alright. I suppose I get worried; I don't want to be a jack of all trades and a master of none.

I've still got a lot to explore within the confines of drum & bass, but now that I'm singing and now that I'm writing songs, tempo in a weird kind of way becomes irrelevant. It's what fits the mood of the track—or mood of the song—that you want to sing. And I'm almost finding that if I'm writing drum & bass, this actual song that I want to write doesn't really work at a 170 tempo.

Are you feeling more confident with your voice these days? I know you had reservations when you were starting out.

A little bit more. [laughs] I still shit myself. I don't want to use Autotune and all those kind of things. I'm not an accomplished singer, as such, so the way I kind of work is looping because within Logic it records your tracks, comps the tracks. So you can just "take that bit, that bit, that bit, and that all works." So there's a lot of cut and paste, kind of piecing it all together. You might deliver a line slightly differently each time around, so, "OK, actually I liked the way I did it on there," and you create a verse out of this thing. I'm not having to use Melodyne, Autotune or kind of robotise—over robotise—my voice to get it perfectly in key. I don't want that, because then I just wouldn't feel like it was me.

[wub]

http://www.residentadvisor.net/feature.aspx?1229

Machine love: Pangaea

Small set-up, massive music. RA discovers how just a modest amount of gear has propelled the Hessle Audio co-founder to a position among UK bass music's foremost names.

The irony of the name "Machine Love" was not lost on Pangaea. When I contacted the producer, real name Kevin McAuley, for the feature he said that he'd basically be happy to participate but had reservations—namely that the extent of his studio gear was a PC, MIDI controller and some speakers. After some gentle reassurance and further conversation I began to realise that in many ways his position was indicative of a whole generation of producers: The current crop of UK bass music artists don't appear to be interested in lining their studio walls with gear. And nor it seems are they arriving pre-packaged with press shots, inflated biographies and a snappy interview quote. Sure, if you've got cash to burn then an analog synth would be great. But, to use an old football cliche, you can only play (with) what's in front of you.

McAuley first pricked the ears of the dubstep sympathetic back in 2007 with the tenebrous Coiled EP on Hessle Audio, the imprint he runs alongside Ramadanman and Ben UFO. The release uncoiled along traditional dubstep tropes, although its masterful follow-up, You & I / Router, showed McAuley to be one of the earliest exponents of the mutated garage sound currently so in vogue.

The Pangaea discography today feels short; but refreshingly so. Appearances on the equally trailblazing Hotflush and Hemlock have agreeably supplemented work on his own label, while the assorted facets of McAuley's sound came box-wrapped at the beginning 2010 on the Pangaea EP—to these ears his strongest material to date. As I spoke to McAuley over e-mail these past few weeks he revealed himself to be humble and unassuming, but displayed a welcomed curtness when pushed to offer advice to young producers: "For me production is all about doing your own thing in whichever way you want to do it... I have zero technical advice to give."

"Fruity Loops and Sony Acid are the
only programs I've ever used."

Let's start at the beginning. Where did you grow up? What sort of music did you listen to as teenager?

I grew up in a pretty isolated village in the south east of the UK. I moved to Leeds for university when I was 19. I think where I grew up had quite a bearing on what I listened to in my early teens. My music of preference was always dance music from the age of seven or eight, and I saved up all my gift and pocket money for two years to buy a set of overpriced shitty decks and a mixer when I was 14. Unfortunately I had no friends or siblings that had similar or more "developed" musical tastes, so I latched onto the commercial house and trance I was hearing on the radio, which was available to buy on vinyl in HMV (my only local record shop).

When I was 16 things changed a bit, as I left school to do my A levels at a college in a different town. This is where I had my first experience of parties with drum & bass playing on sound systems. I started buying some drum & bass records but at the same time I was encountering more "experimental" music. It was still painstakingly slow to stream or download music on the net at this point, so I was hiring CDs from local libraries while using the net to read up on music. I came across Bjork's Vespertine and then Homogenic which I fell in love with, and then started to encounter music on labels like Warp and Planet Mu.

Would you consider both drum & bass and experimental music to be key pillars that still inform the music you make now?

Yeah, I mean I don't listen to much drum & bass at all, but I do take influence from its functionality and purpose... it's dance music which (should) make people want to dance and quicken the heartbeat a bit. And I'm still very much drawn towards experimental music of whatever kind. It's why I hold stuff like hardcore and that early dubstep period in such high regard: They trod the line between the two so well.

I read that you were making music as early as your school days with, "A two-track mixer, a keyboard and a tape deck." Tell me about this. How old were you?

Yeah, well, I started to compose some simple chord structures and melodies from when my parents first bought me a basic keyboard, aged eight. But when I was 11 or so, a family friend gave me an old mixer designed for dubbing audio onto camcorder footage. This meant I could record a track over a beat that I had extended by using one of those dual cassette decks on a MIDI system—I would play a four or eight bar beat nicked from a tune on the left deck, and cue up a cassette to record it on the other, trying to be as accurate as possible on the pause button! Then I'd repeat the process over and over on the same cassette so I had several minutes recorded of that one loop.

I would hit record on my dad's tape deck, start the extended loop playing on the other cassette player and play over the top of it on the keyboard. Then I'd take what I'd just recorded, put it in the first deck and play another part over that, etc. etc. Really primitive stuff and the quality was terrible after all those bounces, but it was all I had at the time.

What kind of music were you attempting to produce?

Just dance music of some kind. I was unaware of genres. I wish I still had tapes from back then, but when I hit my teens I stupidly recorded over them or threw them away because I was embarrassed about hearing them again.

So I guess we should establish when you had your dubstep "epiphany" before we go on...

[It was] seeing Mala play his first show in Leeds in the back room of the West Indian centre, late 2005. I'd listened to some records before that, but hearing those tunes on a sound system made the world of difference

Can you explain looking back on it what is was about Mala sound's that resonated with you so deeply?

I hadn't heard anything like it. Meditative yet hype, organic-sounding but programmed at the same time. And also a sense that it was music made without restrictions.



And was that gig a turning point in your production efforts?

In the few months following that, yeah. I finally had a focus and motivation that I didn't have before.

Did you manage to get yourself anything that resembled a proper set-up before you headed to university?

No, not at all, it was just Fruity Loops, Acid Pro and VSTs loaded onto my parents' PC. I could only afford my own laptop just before I went to Leeds, and even when I was there it took me a good couple of years before I bought a pair of monitors.

So was your initial decision to use Fruity Loops down to financial constraints? The program still represents the centerpiece of what you do now, correct?

I can't remember exactly how I came across it initially but that and Sony Acid are the only programs I've ever used. I'll be honest and say that the financial aspect was never an issue initially as I used cracked versions. (All paid for now I must add!) And yeah, I've stuck with both all this time because I like their workflow and generally know what I'm doing with them.

How exactly do you use FL and Acid in tandem? Which tasks are usually assigned to which program?

I've got no set process. Sometimes I'll make an entire track in FL, sometimes something will be made completely in Acid. A lot of the time, though, I bounce between the two, as I mainly work using audio and not MIDI. So I'll bounce out tracks or loops made in one and transfer over to the other...usually over to Acid if I want to chop things up and re-loop. To be honest it's usually a really messy and longwinded process, and I'd like to work on becoming more methodical in making tracks before I'd consider using something different like Logic.

Do you feel like your way of working has ever impeded your creative flow?

Yeah, for sure. I'll often get a lot of the main ideas and vibe banged out quickly. But then for whatever reason I'll hit a dead end and abandon tracks completely, or I'll juggle between sequencers in an attempt to get things moving again. It's hard to explain. Maybe I need to become more impulsive and not over analyse what I'm doing. Although saying that, some of my better ideas have come from thinking twice about what I was working on.

I read an interview with Hudson Mohawke in which he talked about the problems he experiences on a daily basis with Fruity Loops: crashing and such like. Is this something you've experienced yourself?

I've had some big problems with both programs: complete crashes, project files refusing to load, projects refusing to render. I've lost week's worth of work in the past. So I've become very cautious and save multiple versions of files, bounce out audio regularly and so on.

This might be a sweeping generalization, but I feel like Fruity Loops is the prevalent program among producers of UK bass music styles. Do you feel like there is some truth behind that?

A lot of people seem to use it, yeah. Reason as well. It's nice to use and affordable, with some decent built-in plug-ins. The default BPM is 140: Maybe that's significant! I mean at the end of the day it triggers samples, applies effects and utilises VSTs just like any other program. So why shouldn't people be able to make decent music with it?



I've always associated your music with expressive, very often sustained, synth sounds. Do you program patches yourself?

I mess around with synths a bit, but it doesn't get very deep, and I don't start from scratch with them. I keep meaning to set aside time to learn synthesis some more, but I like using samples and haven't really got round to it yet.

Do you feel that a lot of the time—especially among the electronic music production community—people can be more process- than results-driven? I mean, you sounded almost hesitant to say that you mainly used samples, but does that matter if you are getting the desired results?

Well I guess being process-driven can happen. I can imagine producers building up their studios and buying a load of outboard gear... only to make a bunch of dry tunes. But I don't really see that in the circles I'm in right now. People are basically using a computer and a set of monitors in order to make the best tracks they can. I actually think being too results-driven is more relevant to the DAW crew; there are a lot of tunes which to my ears sound so cold and programmed, you know? It's mainly the stuff that tries to be as loud and hard-hitting as possible. But anyway, yeah, I really like using samples but I admit there is a certain something about being able to create sounds from scratch using synths.

I just wanted to go back to what you were saying about maintaining an experimental edge in your productions. Is this something you always keep in mind when making a track?

I don't know, it's not like the [idea at the] forefront of my mind is to make something "experimental"... the tracks I come out with I just consider to be my music. If anything, I've been trying to make tracks lately which are a bit more compatible with other records for the purposes of mixing. I get the feeling that I could end up going off on one if I'm not rooted down to the idea of making dance music for sound systems. Saying that, I do try and avoid some of the more obvious cliches if possible, or if I catch myself sounding obviously like another producer I'll try and change that.

Touching on what you said about "my music": Do you think the often reflective, melancholic tone of your material is representative of you as a person?

To some extent, it is reflective of me. But it's not the full picture. I don't just vibe off reflective and melancholic music. But I guess that's the vibe that I give off when I make tunes.

Let's talk a little bit about mixing: Do you do this yourself in Acid? Have you been satisfied with the results up until now?

Well either Acid or FL, though I lean towards Acid. And I do it myself, yeah. To be honest I haven't been satisfied with the results so far. Nothing to do with the programs, I just feel I've got a long way to go with mix-downs. And although people have said not to worry about it too much, the quality of mix-down can make a crucial difference to whether the tune gets played out or not.

Is it a case of handling EQing better? Have you received any advice from anyone?

Yeah, better handling of EQ and compression. I can't think of any advice I've received or sought out. I need to spend some time focusing on it.

What do you find inspires you most to get into the studio?

Definitely when I've been listening to music that moves me in some way, or when I've heard things I haven't heard before.

And how long does it usually take you to lay down a track?

Fucking ages! I can usually knock out the main vibe of a track fairly quickly, but finishing things is normally a long and drawn-out affair. It's something that I need to work on really; I'd like to become more methodical and productive in making and finishing tunes. Saying that, if I've left loops/ideas/samples sitting in a project for a while and I come back to it, I usually find things in it that I'm no longer keen on. So leaving things to mature for a while can work to some extent. But I'd certainly like to be less "perfectionist" and make things quicker...while, of course, making sure the quality of the music is as high as I can make it.



Is there any gear that you're currently eying up? Could you imagine moving away from software at this point?

I've just bought a new pair of monitors, which has been my biggest "studio" investment to date, and I'm hoping they'll last me for a few years at least. Other than that, I can't realistically see myself investing too much in hardware right now. I'd like to buy a synth or two, perhaps some outboard gear to play about with which would get me away from the computer screen, but it's a question of money and space... I don't have a lot of either at the moment!

Many people would assert that the UK, and, of course, by extension Hessle Audio, is flying the flag for innovative forms of dance music right now. Do you think there's a reason this current wave of UK producers have been able to express themselves with such freedom?

I think a lot of the people who are making interesting dance floor tunes right now have a strong link to the early days of dubstep, when people like Shackleton or Toasty were as much a part of the scene as Skream or Rusko. Everybody had their own sound and wasn't afraid to experiment. I'd like to think that these producers are continuing this way of thinking. The BPM range also has a lot to do with it I think...a one-hour DJ set can easily incorporate tunes between 130 and 140 BPM, and the range of music and styles this incorporates is enormous. Tunes from 1992, 1999, 2004...anything from the last 20 years of dance music is an influence.

[wub]

http://www.residentadvisor.net/feature.aspx?1213

Machine love: KiNK

Classic Chicago house by way of Sofia. RA discovers the surprising method behind the sound and style of Bulgarian producer, KiNK.

After plying his production trade out of Sofia, Bulgaria for the past ten years, it only took a couple of seconds for KiNK to go stellar. Although the producer, real name Strahil Velchev, had experienced reasonable amounts of success in tandem with UK producer Neville Watson and their releases for Rush Hour subsidiary Hour House Is Your Rush, it was (in my own mind at least) around the midpoint of his 2009-released track "Trevoga" that Velchev truly came into his own. As syncopated Todd Terry-esque snares buckled under strain of an interminable arpeggio line, there was a brief flash of stasis—as there is in all the best dance floor records—in which you didn't know what the fuck was going to happen next. The track sat alongside a further pair of wonderfully wayward house jams on the Psyche Funk EP for the Undertones label, although much of Velchev's prior and subsequent work has been an exploration of more traditional tropes.

Although by his own admission Velchev's output in 2010 has been on the heavy side, few would argue that the impact of his work has waned as a result. His name lit up January DJ charts as he and Neville Watson turned in an intrepid dance floor re-touch of DJ Sprinkles' "Masturjakor," while liebe*detail, Freerange, Pets Recordings and Get Physical have all since etched "KiNK" into their remix credits. Given his propensity for all things acid and old school, perhaps the least surprising of Velchev's numerous label homes was Josh Wink's Ovum. The Rachel EP was as sweaty and retrospective as anything the label has emitted in its 15-year history. So with all this retroactive noise circulating, you could very reasonably deduce that Velchev's classic sounds are mirrored in production process. Well, you'd be partially correct. I discovered that the truth was a little more intriguing than simply "hardware and analog" as I called up Velchev's Sofia studio.

You told me that you had a few issues with your gear when I saw you in Panorama Bar for your live show?

Yeah, unfortunately. I bought two new controllers for my live act, and I haven't got to test them enough in Sofia. I found out that there is some conflict between the two controllers. On the first track I tried to play, one of the controllers that is more important for the live act just stopped working, and I had to reset the software in order to activate the controller again. Then for the whole live set I was really careful, not doing much, just trying to keep the equipment going on. So I was not really happy, because I couldn't be as active as I would be if the gear was 100% working... In some parts towards the end I did some stuff that was completely live without any prepared loops, but I was afraid to do it any longer because I was afraid the system would crash.

What do you use for live jamming?

I have a couple of options. For this particular live [set] I had to use Ableton Live with controllers. I do different kinds of gigs: I DJ, I do a live PA for two hours and I have a combination of DJ sets together with a hardware live act. For this live act in Panorama Bar I had to play live for two hours, and the only chance was to use the computer, because I could play my whole tracks—the promoters expect to hear the productions—and the only opportunity to do this is to use the computer where everything is pre-arranged.

The other kind of live I do is with some drum machines like the Vermona DRM. It's not the new Vermona that's being produced lately, it's a very old drum machine with a TR-style sequencer that you can program some beats on in real time. So I usually bring this when I have a DJ set and when I have a chance to do a really short live set for 30 minutes. I also have a very small synthesizer called Nord Micro Modular, it can be assigned with the Vermona. Also I use a very funny Japanese toy called Gakken analog synthesizer.



What sort of sound do you get out of it?

It just has one waveform, which is a sawtooth waveform. I can actually switch it on. [demonstrates]

It sounds very 8-bit.

Yeah. It's just one oscillator with a sawtooth waveform. It has attached LFO to the pitch of the waveform; it has good resonance, that's it really. If you use it live together with some other basic setup it's pretty cool. But you can't really do a long live set with just with a simple drum machine and very basic synthesizers.

Do you actually enjoy playing live with Ableton?

I'm not really into the Live thing, because first of all I don't use Ableton for production, and I'm not that familiar with the software. Of course, it's very basic and very easy software to learn, but I don't feel that free with Ableton compared to other guys who are using it all the time. Also, my tracks, the way I produce music is different. I run my tracks through tape, and I do some processing on the whole mix. It's very hard for me to distribute the track on channels or loops. For other guys it's very easy to render tracks on channels and put them on Ableton, or just use their Ableton project. For me, it's really hard work to adapt every track for a live act.

I have to take it from my other software which is called Jeskola Buzz. It's very strange modular software. It doesn't have an option to render, you have to record. It doesn't have offline export. So I have to record every channel one by one. Also there is some bug in the software. When you export something, the software adds some air in the beginning of the sample. And every time you export something, the air, this space is different. If you have all the channels, and you just place them on the software, they are not going to be in time, they are not going to be in sync... For me, preparing a full track for Ableton is a nightmare.



Could you explain how Buzz works to people who maybe aren't familiar with it?

Let's say it's a kind of modular software. It's kind of related to programmes like Reaktor, or Max/MSP. But it's not as complex as those programmes. It doesn't emulate a real hardware studio. You don't have to use a mixer; you don't have this interface that emulates the real machines. You just have simple blocks. In one of the views of this programme, you just have to imagine that you're looking at the studio from the roof. You see some blue blocks that in the programme are called generators. Those blue blocks are, let's say, the machines that are making the sound, synthesizers, samplers. There are other blocks that are pink, they are called effects, and they are effects like reverb, delay, equalization, dynamics effects, everything that you put the signal through.

Beside the modular fashion of the machine routing there is another interesting thing: Buzz is a "multiple pattern sequencer tracker" which means that the interface is very numeric. You add notes through the computer keyboard. You type commands to call effects or to control some kind of parameters using the hexadecimal numeral system. You don't draw automation with your mouse, all you see in the Pattern/Sequencer views is points and numbers. And you type commands.

How do you find its sound quality?

I'm not sure if the sound quality of Buzz is good. For me it was always a problem to have a solid low end in the tracks... In my productions the sound quality is not the leading thing. The idea and the character, the design is most important for me. If I manage to transfer a great idea into an audio file, and if I manage to make a recording with special sound, I don't care if the track is too quiet, the bass is too much or the hi-hats are too loud in some parts. I would sacrifice a good mix-down for a special sound.

When did you first start using it?

I started to use it in 1999, just because at that time I was struggling to start making music. I didn't have money to buy hardware. Also, in Bulgaria, in our music stores we haven't got those popular samplers or drum machines that are the basics for electronic music. So the only option for me was to start using a computer. In 1999 my first computer was a really basic machine, it was like 133 MHz. It was really slow. 16 MB of RAM. So I needed good software which I would be able to operate in real time, but at the same time I needed light software without big requirements. Buzz was this thing. It was very light, the interface was very ugly. It doesn't need much RAM memory to calculate. That was the only reason to start with Buzz.

I later realized how powerful a platform it is. In 2002, I tried other programmes like Reason and Cubase. Later I tried Ableton when it wasn't as advanced as it is now. And I just didn't feel comfortable with having connections into the mixer that are not in front of my eyes.

Do you feel like having used Buzz for all these years has affected your sound?

I don't think it affected my production, because the process I learned to make music was just to listen to my favourite music, and try and learn how to make it with Buzz. It definitely gave me freedom compared to the programmes which were available ten years ago when I started to spend more time in music production. So no, I think this software just gave me the freedom to make what was already in my mind.



I've seen the http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HgLo0Pq ... dded]video you've put online of you and Neville Watson jamming. Is this an approach you often take to your tracks?

No, definitely not. That's why when I gave you this gear list [pre-interview] I told you that I have an inspirational part of the studio which I use to enjoy when I make some sounds. And the other part of the studio is just my computer with the software.

Let's say when I want to make a track, I think of the track when I am out with friends, or in bed when I am about to fall asleep. When I sit at the computer I already have some idea what I am going to do. I sit there, and I start to programme. It is a very cold process; it's not really impulsive and emotional. The emotional process is before, when I walk outside and think about projects, or when I listen to other people's music and like some sound.

So something like the Vermona drum machine will never feature in your tracks?

No, I've never used any hardware on my tracks. I learn what the behaviour of the hardware is. Later, on the computer, I emulate the behaviour. But I don't go with the hardware and tweak live and record. That's probably something I would like to do in the future, because the more I travel I have the chance to visit some great shops. For example when I was in Berlin I was in a very great shop called Schneider's Buero, and I bought a very cool small analog synthesizer called MFB Synth II.



I'll probably think of a separate project, which will be made totally live with this gear. But it's for the future. So far for my production it's thinking before and then sitting at a computer doing it with a clean mind—without being affected by something, without emotion in the moment when I am writing the tracks.

Basically how I make music: if it's going to be a dance track I make the basic loop with all the elements. I make a loop which I imagine is the stronger part of the track. Then I just copy the loop in the sequencer, and start to remove some elements. So when I have this strong loop I stand up and imagine that I am in the club. I start to tweak the controllers and do this live thing. I dance a little bit, and I try to feel the track—does it work on me? It's after I have this basic idea, I try to test this track on myself. I try to imagine if the people are going to dance to it.

Let's talk about your work with Neville Watson. Do you work face to face?

No. It's a very interesting project. Actually we've worked together for two years and we hadn't met for all this time. It's very funny. When I released my first record on vinyl in 2005, I noticed he was playing it. I already knew of him as a DJ and a producer. A friend of mine from France booked him, and I saw a picture of him playing my first record. I thought it's cool to send him an email to say thank you for the support. So we found that we had a passion of the old school sound, we thought it would be cool to make a track together.

So he sent a couple of sounds. I put the sounds into my software, added a bassline and a beat, and developed a track with his sounds. At that time we didn't use Skype, we just used email to send the loops and discuss the music. We did this first track just as a joke. I put the track on MySpace, I didn't offer it to any labels. And one day I added Rush Hour label on MySpace even though I hadn't mailed them. I just added them as a friend. And half an hour later I had an email from them: "this first track on your player: is it available?" That's how everything started.

"I would sacrifice a good
mix-down for a special sound."

You've talked before about how you and Neville have a shared appreciation of old school house sounds. What do you think it is about these productions that excites you so much?

I've listened to house and techno since late '91. So this specific sound is very deep in my heart. I was 12 years old when I started to listen to that kind of music, and it left a very big mark on me. I guess it's very different if you start to listen to any kind of music when you are 20, or 18, and when you're younger. I guess if I'd had the opportunity to make music or DJ at that age, I'd probably get over the old school sound and look for the new thing. But now I have the chance to release music, and I want to incorporate this music that I loved in the past and didn't have the chance to make and to play in the past.

I wanted to talk a bit about your output over the past two years as you seem to put out a lot of records. Have you been inspired more over the past two years? Do you make a lot of music that isn't released?

No, I don't have anything lying on my hard drive. For the past two years, everything I have produced has been released. The thing is, I've been listening to electronic music for quite a long time, and I was struggling to start making music. Then I started to make music in 1999 or 2000. It took five years from the moment I had already completed production for release until I released my first record. So I was really struggling to get my music out. When I had some connections with smaller labels, I just had the desire to put out more and more music because I hadn't had the chance to do it for so many years.

For the first couple of years I was producing, no one wanted to release my music. When I started making some connections, I promised everyone "yes, I am going to make a release for you." At some point I gave so many promises, I had to catch up with it. I did too many tracks, I was too generous maybe. I wish I would make less, I wish I would spend more time with the production. That's what I'm going to do from now on. Since I released my first records, it was never like I had ten tracks on the hard drive thinking who to sign the tracks [to]. There were always many labels asking me if I had a track. Since I made my first release I haven't had a track standing on my hard drive.



I saw on your MySpace you were having some problems with your hearing. How is it at the moment?

Unfortunately it never got better, I have tinnitus. It's ringing in my right ear. Fortunately, it's very quiet, and it's not a problem for my production or DJing. I only hear it in the evening when the computer is switched off, for example when I am in the bathroom and everything is quiet. But it's a signal that something is very wrong with my ears. I've been to 20 doctors; I did some hearing tests that showed that my hearing is quite good for my age. But I have to be very careful from now on. I haven't DJed for ten months. Now I'm DJing with custom-made earplugs.

How did you sustain the damage do you think?

I used to produce music on headphones. It's completely wrong. It's not good for the mixes; it's not good for the ears. I knew it. But in the beginning when I started to make music, I didn't have the money to buy normal speakers. I got used to making music on headphones. Later I had some monitors, but I hadn't got used to making music on speakers. I continued to make music on headphones for ten years. I think that's the reason.

One night I was finalizing a track, running it through a tape recorder. I wanted to hear the typical tape distortion on the hi-hats, which is the most harmful frequency for your ears. I was listening to those hi-hats for like two hours, just enjoying the great effect of the tape recording. And when I removed the headphones I heard this noise. It was horrible. But there is always something positive. Yes, I have this problem, and it will probably last forever. But from that point I stopped using headphones, I started to DJ with earplugs, and my ears are still in very good condition. The doctor said that I don't have any hearing loss. So this condition I have will make me more careful, and keep my ears in better condition for longer.

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http://www.urb.com/2013/05/13/urb-spotl ... terview-2/

To quote my homie Chico Mann, “Sound Is Everything” and, in my opinion, has everything to do with music. It’s been years since I’ve listened to music through an iPod, preferring to feel the pulse of the beat whether speaker freaking or writhing in my seat in front of a pair of bottom heavy monitors.

And while I could go on for a hot minute expressing my disdain for Steve Jobs and the decline of quality sound leading to the popularity of a compressed mess, I’d rather tout the praises of URB’s six best engineers in New York City. These are the people who pronounce the bounce. And their work graces the grooves of the world’s best records, from Madonna to A-Trak, Busta Rhymes to Oakenfold and tons in-between. These engineers have devoted their time to help up-and-coming producers achieve new levels of success. And as home based and portable production techniques try to rule the music scene — with more and more music producers doing everything from mixing and mastering all by themselves — I offer you a peek inside the minds of these forward thinking sonic soldiers…

URB: Why engineering?

ARIEL BORUJOW: Engineering is something I’ve always been fascinated with, even before actually knowing what it was. From a young age, I was inquisitive when it came to the sound of albums and why they all sounded different, regardless of genre.

ANGAD BAINS: Why not!? I get to spend all day in the studio working with talented artists / songwriters and producers. I can’t even remember what it is I first went to college for right after high school, but I do remember having the lowest attendance and eventually ended up dropping out after my first semester. It was then that I decided to go to school for Audio Engineering. I spent all my time at the studios there and graduated valedictorian with a 4.0 from Full Sail University. I love recording. You’re there when the music is being created and there’s a lot of excitement involved. The past year, though, I’ve been leaning more towards mixing. Being a recording engineer and running the studio at the same time is demanding. You’re constantly answering emails, calls, dealing with accounts etc… I still record from time to time, but it’s not an everyday thing anymore.

AARON BASTINELLI: I fell in love with engineering early on during my first internship, which was at a small local studio behind a Chinese fast food restaurant in Pennsylvania. I always wanted to be involved in music professionally, but it was that experience that made me realize I wanted to study the record making process.

PHIL MOFFA: I got into production and recording at Purchase College where I now teach. It was back in ’99 when I had been DJing for about 2 years that I auditioned with a pair of turntables and some beats I made on an MPC recorded to cassette. Once I was given access to the studios, I basically lived in them and have ever since. I opened Butcha Sound in September of 2010. It’s a subterranean lab in the center of Manhattan.

ADAM SUSSMAN: I look at a large format console and I see the most musical piece of gear ever created. Why would I not want to spend my time behind one?

BRAD WORRELL: Because I’m a control freak. I learned the basics while I was an artist as I’ve always had strong interest it tech stuff. It definitely started as a way to record myself and my own bands.



URB: How has digital / the MP3 affected your career?

ARIEL BORUJOW: Well it’s been a gift and a curse. The gift is there is a lot more music out there. With all the social media outlets we now have artists that can really bypass labels and put projects or songs out themselves. The curse is the amount of talent being overshadowed since many think they can “make” it.

ANGAD BAINS: Records seem to be made a lot faster and have a shorter shelf life than they did back in the days of cassettes and CDs. There are countless blogs posting new tracks everyday and consumers are constantly on the hunt for new music. On the technical side, contrary to popular belief, I feel that the DAW (Digital Audio Workstation) is our generation’s greatest technological advancement in the field of audio. The recording and editing process is quicker and easier than ever. You don’t need to spend hours to do a full recall of a mix as you would with an analog console and racks of gear. Analog tape and console emulators seem to be the new trend and nearly every plugin manufacturer has something to offer. These are getting better and better. My personal favorites are Steven Slate’s VCC and VTM.

AARON BASTINELLI: Well… I grew up with it! It’s all I’ve really known. Of course I love working with it in an analog domain as much as possible, but I certainly feel most comfortable in hybrid setups. I can say though that my speed and efficiency in Pro Tools has been a huge help in developing my career.

ADAM SUSSMAN: The actual ‘career’ question is a difficult one, I have some (multi) Grammy award winning friends and acquaintances that are truly struggling on a day to day basis to pay bills. In my opinion, the music business was only a business (for engineer’s in particular) from 1950s to early 2000s. Think of it as Elvis to Eminem (also makes a good story, that it was two white guys making money off of black music).

BRAD WORRELL: Probably made it. Although I started in the era of 2” tape and 24 tracks, I was still mainly an artist then. I began engineering / producing during the rise of digital and the work that I was doing (remixes, film and advertising) was made infinitely easier by the technology. I could create full productions entirely by myself.



URB: Name two things every up and coming songwriter / producer should know.

ARIEL BORUJOW: Patience and Relationships. Both work hand in hand.

ANGAD BAINS: All it takes is 1 song. One song can change your life as it has for many of my clients and friends. Keep at it, put in the work and just keep writing. For every 100 songs you write, you’re lucky to place one…. But when you do get that one, it’s worth it. Also, collaborate with as many people as you can. I remember Dave Pensado saying this on one of his earlier episodes, “If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re clearly in the wrong room.” Be around people that inspire you.

AARON BASTINELLI: They should all know that the most important factor in making music is having a great song, and that involving another set of ears in some capacity will always help make a project better.

PHIL MOFFA: Real growth takes time. Learn the fundamentals strongly, perhaps by using a simple piece of gear like a four track or an MPC and figure out how to finish songs on them before moving on to a fully-stocked computer.

ADAM SUSSMAN: Put the time in while you can. That Malcolm Gladwell 10,000 hours of practice holds true. Write everyday, even if it’s a grocery list. And for the beat makers out there, make a beat everyday, even it’s a heartbeat with a cool filter on it.

BRAD WORRELL: It’s a muscle. Certainly songwriting, but also producing, to a degree. You need to always be working it. This means writing all the time, even when you aren’t necessarily “inspired”. That way, when random inspiration does strike, you’ll be in great shape to take advantage of it and churn out that gem.



URB: Tell us about some of your favorite projects you’ve worked on.

ARIEL BORUJOW: It’s really hard to pinpoint a specific project. I think all projects are special in their own way. How can they not be? I’m working on music everyday doing what I love and learning a lot from every artist. Throughout the years, I have been fortunate to work on countless multi platinum albums and Grammy nominated projects.

ANGAD BAINS: 1) Jay Sean 2) The Wanted 3) Wynter Gordon 4) Krewella 5) Avicci 6) Sia

AARON BASTINELLI: I love all the Converse projects I get to work on, most notably their ’3 Artist 1 Song’ releases (i.e. Mark Foster, A Trak and Kimbra’s ‘Warrior’ and Matt and Kim, Andrew W..K. and Soulja Boy’s ‘I’m A Goner’). Other than these, some of the other recent albums I’ve really enjoyed being a part of would be: Vacationer’s ‘Gone’, Body Language’s ‘Grammar’, Beast Patrol’s ‘Fierce and Grateful’ and Lynette Williams ‘Songs For Sarah’.

PHIL MOFFA: Inside the Perfect Circle is a film about my friend and mentor Joel Thome. It is a document of his career, his recovery after a debilitating stroke through music therapy and a concert we performed in 2009 at the Rubin Museum of Art in New York City based on his mandala scores. The film won many awards at film festivals across the United States. It was an honor to be a part of this film and see Joel still winning awards for his work. I’ve worked on several reggae projects with another mentor / friend / colleague of mine, Joe Ferry, who is a veteran bass player and producer. We put out a 12″ on Jump Up Records last year and this year we put together a compilation featuring Augustus Pablo and King Tubby. It is the companion CD to a book he wrote and I edited called “Connected”. It’s worth getting both the book and the CD. They’re both incredible. Recently, I’ve been performing solo techno shows on an all hardware setup and releasing music using my real name for the first time. This includes collaborations with Anthony Parasole, DJ Spider and Paul Raffaele that made some noise in the underground. Doing mixdowns for the Martinez Brothers is always something I enjoy because their productions come in at high quality and I can be sure that the work will get heard in clubs worldwide at their DJ sets. I love that about working behind the scenes on dance music. There is always potentially a party somewhere in the world where people are hearing it on a sound system. Other New York producers I have worked with include Ray West, E Beats, Harry Bennett, Night Plane and Nutritious of SpinSpinNYC. The latter has brought me some really dope deep house tracks that are a pleasure to mix because the musical parts are always great. Chuck Love even played trumpet, flute and Rhodes parts on Nutritious’ Infernal Devices remix.

ADAM SUSSMAN: I’m blessed to be in a position to take on projects that I enjoy. A record that I look back fondly on is Dante Mazzetti’s ‘Lost and Drifting’. I was too young to know how truly talented he was (and is). We got to work out of Bennett Studios for the tracking and most of the mixing. The album doesn’t even sound that good, but I sure had a blast making it.

BRAD WORRELL: Most of my favorites never saw the light of day. Early on in my production career, I did a lot of work with a hip hop artist named, Mike Down. He had a rock background and a lot of the tracks we worked on together incorporated guitars and had a real, punchy “rock” dynamic to them. While we did tracks with some pretty impressive guests on them, like Sean Paul and Bootie Brown (Pharcyde), we could never get the industry to connect with them. When I listen back to those early tracks, they sound fresh as shit and are still some of my favorite productions. I think that much of that is because we were playing outside of the rules and genre, to a degree. Just really having fun and trying anything that sounded good to us.



URB: Why New York City?

ARIEL BORUJOW: For one, I grew up 45 minutes North of the city. When I was young, I remember making trips with either family or friends and immediately knowing that one day I’d have to work here – - the fast pace, the people, the hustle all around. Hey, they say if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.

ANGAD BAINS: I love New York City. There’s a great energy in this city and some really talented artists as well as producers and songwriters. The independent music community in New York City is so tight knit and Crosby Collective is a great hub for a lot of them!

AARON BASTINELLI: Initially, it was the most accessible location for me, but as I became more immersed I began to appreciate the pace of the city more and more. Move fast, or get trampled!

PHIL MOFFA: I was born and raised in Queens and now live in Manhattan. Leaving never really appealed to me, but I wouldn’t mind spending a few months in Europe. I’ve appreciated the lifestyle there.

ADAM SUSSMAN: The hustle.

BRAD WORRELL: I moved here with my first band and at that time, as a young punk, my priorities were 24 hour access to pizza and beer. For an artist now, I’d say that as saturated as Williamsburg is, there is just so much real talent here, as well as accessible venues, that it’s definitely worth being a small fish. You’ll always be able to find that backup drummer, or a good horn section on a moment’s notice.

URB: What’s more important: having talent or having money?

ARIEL BORUJOW: Talent, for sure. That will never run out no matter what. Having money doesn’t guarantee success.

ANGAD BAINS: If you have talent and you work hard, you’ll eventually get money. If you have money, be smart so it always stays that way.

AARON BASTINELLI: Talent, always. If you have talent, are humble, and have drive, people will want to work with you despite how much money you have. There are a lot of amazing opportunities out there.

PHIL MOFFA: Having breakfast.

ADAM SUSSMAN: If you have the talent, money will find you. It just might take A LOT longer than you expect. Scratch that, it WILL take you a lot longer than you expect.

BRAD WORRELL: Uh, in reference to making music? Duh. It’s been said before, but a talented engineer / producer with an MBox will always make WAY better sounding records than an amateur at Avata.



URB: Take us on a tour of your studio. Where are you located? What do you like to do? What do you have to offer?

ARIEL BORUJOW: I’m located at Stadiumred Studios. We are located on 125th street between Park and Lexington Avenues. The facility consists of 5 amazing studios with 2 SSL rooms, full Pro Tools HD systems, 1,000 Square foot main live room and a mastering room ran by in my opinion the #1 mastering engineer Ricardo Gutierrez. Stadiumred is a close family. Aside from myself, we have Just Blaze, Omen, DJ Chachi, Mysto and Pizzi, Modern Machines, Jeremy Carr and Frequency. Also, we have engineers Tom Lazarus and Andrew Wright. I also take pride in having amazing assistant engineers and interns. We are looking to train the next wave of engineers. It’s a special place for sure. These days I spend most of my time mixing and running my label Imprint 180 alongside my business partner, Joshua Kamen.

ANGAD BAINS: Founded in 2010, owned and operated by Michael Brian and myself, the Crosby Collective Recording Studios are full-service professional recording and mixing ateliers located in the heart of New York City’s SoHo district, with a secondary location in Gramercy, completed in September of 2012. Each member of our staff brings passion, experience and a commitment to exceed our clients’ expectations. Artists needs are met with flexible options and professional quality solutions to fit each client and make for a memorable session.

AARON BASTINELLI: I work out of a lot of studios, but most of the time you can find me at Converse Rubber Tracks in Williamsburg, where I’m the Staff Engineer. It’s a beautiful studio housed in a 5,200 sq ft warehouse, with a great sounding live room and very accurate control room. Everyday I get to take part in no pressure recording sessions with bands who are given free studio time. It’s an incredibly creative and positive environment. Bands are able to apply for free time.

PHIL MOFFA: My studio is in the basement of the Recording and Rehearsal Arts Building at 251 West 30th where musicians are seen and heard 24 hours a day. It’s a pretty legendary building. The basement where my studio is was the recording location of many classic 80s records as well as rehearsals for some of the greats. Most people remark on the vibe of Butcha Sound more than anything. It is an environment that encourages creativity. In my facility, I have a decent collection of outboard gear, many classic drum machines and some synths. It’s a playground for producers and myself. I got very lucky finding it. I do lots of mixdowns, recording and even some mastering. Plus, a lot of multi-tracking of the various hardware pieces. I have a half-decent Rhodes and a nice DJ setup too.

ADAM SUSSMAN: As a freelance engineer, I’ve had the opportunity to work out of some amazing studios. Sadly, a large number of them are no longer with us (Sony, Hit Factory, Bennett Studios). Bennett Studios in Englewood, NJ, was by far my favorite place to mix. Their studio B (with a fantastically huge SSL4080) had in my opinion the flattest sounding room I’ve ever worked out of. Sadly, they closed in late 2011. Avatar is still around and if you have the budget, dear God do it. The A room is world famous for a reason.I started my career at Electric Lady Studios in NYC and I’ll always have fond memories of messing with the purple SSL in studio B (and some semi-believable ghost stories). Threshold Studios on the west side of Manhattan has a very wonderful sounding Trident 80B and a nice sized live room. James Walsh the owner is a talented producer and goes out of his way to make every sesssion a pleasure. For smaller studios, you cannot go wrong with Mercy Sound Studios located in Alphabet City. It has always been my favorite affordable studio. Scott the owner is a saint and complete gear nut (the Lucas mics, Inward Connections Tube Sidecar and the vintage Gates 1957 STA-Level come to mind). One of my favorite memories at Mercy was working with Phoebe Snow before she passed. Anybody who ever worked with her knew she was a handful to deal with and she absolutely loved it and had a blast being there. It is definitely the best bang for your buck on the east coast. I love recording any and all live instruments. If I had to choose I’d say drums and vocals. What makes that particular voice special? How do you keep that air / tone / growl / scream and not lose it during the conversion into zeros and ones? Spending the time to find the right vocal chain i.e. microphone, preamp, compressor is something that I will never tire of. I’ve always been in awe of the uber talented drummers, 3 mics or 15 mics. I don’t care…just give me some time to get the phase right between all the mics and I’ll look like a rockstar. I recently helped with a studio build out in NJ called Nightstand Studios — It was nice to hand pick some of the gear and tune the room.

BRAD WORRELL: I manage Converse Rubber Tracks in Williamsburg. I’d be inclined to let somebody more interesting give you the tour:



URB: Now, let’s get technical for a second. Tell us about some of your most favorite gear acquisitions.

ARIEL BORUJOW: Okay here goes…my Dangerous Summing Box, SSL bus compressor, Dangerous Bax EQ and Apogee Rosetta. That’s the go-to hardware. As far as plug ins, for sure my Universal Audio bundle – - hands down my favorite. I recently started using the Slate Virtual Console and Virtual tapes machine bundle. They are changing how I mix. Most important though, my ears.

ANGAD BAINS: Outboard gear, Neve 5116 console, 33609, Gml 8200 — Because I’m from the new generation of engineers, I love plugins. Here are some of the ones I use on a daily basis: Pro Tools HD 10, Steven Slate, Dsp, Sound toys, Nomad, Fab filter, and many many more…

AARON BASTINELLI: I honestly don’t own much of my own gear! I rely heavily on the studios I work out of.

PHIL MOFFA: I find use in everything from the cheapest toys to the nicest pieces of vintage gear. It is definitely essential for me to have a mixing board at the center of the lab. Recently, I got an amp for these huge Urei monitors in my wall and listening to records on them has been one of the most exciting upgrades in years. And I use my Octatrack and MPC samplers more than any other boxes as far as beats are concerned.

ADAM SUSSMAN: I’m not immune to gear porn. Who the hell wouldn’t want to use a twelve thousand dollar mic and esoteric tube compressors from the 50s? But sometimes a SM58 will sound great (and be more comfortable for the artist), just ask any of the engineer’s who’ve worked with Bjork, or Bono.
If I had to bring just a few pieces with me…a few Daking mic pre/eq’s, a few Great River MP-2NV’s, a bunch of Distressor’s, a few RETRO STA-Level’s (just drooling thinking about that RETRO compressor), one or two ribbon mics (Cloud Microphones are pretty awesome), a few SM57′s and SM58′s, and give me two or three nice Large Diaphragm Condenser (Neumann U49, Mojave M-300, Studio Projects C1). In my opinion, the single most important thing is a good sounding studio. Forget the gear. How does the ROOM sound? That is the hardest thing to get right. Find a room that what you hear sounds the same in your car, in the club, in your headphones. Especially if you’re just starting out. The low end is something that I still struggle with and the flatter the room, the better chance you have of creating a good mix that translates well.

BRAD WORRELL: On the personal side, when Reason 2.0 came out, it was groundbreaking for me. An awesome (and fun) tool that was an amazing bargain at the time. On a professional side, here at Converse Rubber Tracks, I feel like the substantial investment that we made in our Ocean Way speakers, really sets us apart in our monitoring. These are massive, mid-fields that are wonderful to track on but you can actually mix on them (and many of our engineers do just that). That’s not something that I can say about most large / soffit monitors.



URB: The readers are begging, please do us a favor, dig deep, and give us some career advice.

ARIEL BORUJOW: Relationships are important. I’m sure people hear that all the time, but it’s so true. The music business is so small that you never know who you will run into down the road. Be willing to work for next to nothing in the beginning to help build your brand. Essentially, you have to look at yourself as a brand so word of mouth spreads and people hear about you from others.

ANGAD BAINS: Stick with it. It can get really hard at times. Working long hours with little or no sleep / pay, isn’t easy. But to do what you love doing everyday…It’s an amazing feeling. Just make sure you have a good support system. They could be your friends, significant other or family. It’s a lot harder to do it alone.

AARON BASTINELLI: Work hard, find someone to mentor you (who’s been successful) in what you want to do, and really focus on your job at hand. Dedication, diligence and passion go a long way.

PHIL MOFFA: What else can you do in any art that’s truly worthwhile except lock yourself up in your respected laboratory and work your ass off? Sure we need to be in touch with people and promote and do all that stuff, but it’s worthless unless you have something substantial to put your name on and share with the world. Learn some music theory, develop your own voice, practice, dig, experiment, create. Then figure out what to do with it. If it’s any good, it will happen for you. At least that’s the advice I am giving myself nowadays.

ADAM SUSSMAN: I hate the ‘do what you love’ line, but it fits well here. The older way of moving up the chain, gopher, 2nd assistant, assistant engineer, engineer is sadly dying out. If you can get into a larger format studio, do it. The rules to follow are simple 1) Do what is asked of you 2) Shut up and listen for 5-10 years. Ego is something we all struggle with. Do whatever you can to temper it.

BRAD WORRELL: It’s quite simple really. I think that most people believe that having two of these three things will bring you success: talent / luck / hard work. The truth is that it takes all three. Sorry for the buzzkill, but you will be very hard pressed to find any super-star, whether an artist, producer or even an engineer, who hasn’t had LOTS of all three of those. Having just two, in any combination, may be enough to get you in the door, and even make for a modest career, but you’ll never go all the way without all three. Being nice to EVERYONE also helps, but sometimes that falls into the “hard work” category, I guess.

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http://www.xlr8r.com/features/2013/10/b ... r-and-rjd2

B2B: Dan the Automator and RJD2 Talk Hip-Hop History, the Limits of Sample-Based Production, and the Current State of Music


Though they initially made their names during slightly different eras of hip-hop production, both Dan the Automator (a.k.a. Dan Nakamura) and RJD2 (a.k.a. RJ Krohn) now stand as respected veterans in the world of instrumental beats. Through his various solo outings and absurdly long list of production credits (Dr. Octagon, Deltron 3030, and Handsome Boy Modeling School among them), Nakamura has proven to be a producer constantly in search of new sounds, while RJD2's career has taken a similarly expansive path, with the Ohio native initially serving as the instrumental backbone of leftfield hip-hop label Definitive Jux before extending his talents into more freeform styles. Given these two artists' intertwining passions and histories, we figured that now would be a good time to get the pair of luminaries together for a bit of back-and-forth conversation, particularly since the recently reunited Deltron 3030 just dropped its long-awaited sophomore LP and RJD2 is offering up a new LP of his own this week, More Than Isn't. In this extended B2B session, Nakamura and Krohn give a glimpse into their turntablist and digging roots and explain why they both eventually moved beyond sample-based music; along the way, they also dole out their thoughts on today's beat scene, SoundCloud, and modern hip-hop.

XLR8R: Considering that both of you have been producing music for well over a decade, what has kept you going and continuing to create? Is the inspiration the same as it's always been, or are you constantly looking for new challenges?

Dan Nakamura: I'm pretty much only good at one thing—being artistic, and that shows itself mostly in terms of music. It's what I do. Every time I do something, I learn something, and every time I learn something, it makes me want to try to do the next thing, so there's just been a continual growth of always making stuff. A long time ago, I used to think I was really good at making music; then I found out I was terrible, then I finally got to a point where I was reasonably good. Once I got there and started doing a little bit more, I began to realize that there was no limit to things there were to try, so I'd keep trying those things, and that's the cycle I'm on now.



RJ Krohn: For me, the inspiration comes from trying as many things as possible. The more records that I make, in a way, in turn makes working on new records even harder. Making my first record was easy in a way because nothing was boring yet. The novelty of everything hadn't worn off, so the spectrum of what I could do was completely wide open. Naturally for me, when I do something once—like use a specific vibe on a song—it actually makes it hard for me to repeat, because it just isn't as interesting to me anymore. This has led me to always be chasing new ways to make music, and that leads me to incorporating new types of music, trying new genres, and that type of stuff. It can be challenging, but from a personal growth or development standpoint, it's a lot more interesting to me that way.

Did both of you start by producing sample-based music?

DN: Actually, I started out by DJing, which is kind of an extension of sampling.

RJ, did you start out as a DJ too?

RJK: Yeah, I made the traditional progression from being a record collector to DJing and then getting a sampler. Each one leapfrogged into the next. I remember I was DJing for a while, and I got into a thing of trying to find records that people had sampled, so I could play the sample right after I played the Gangstarr song or whatever. At a certain point, I started realizing that there were all these samples on these records that no one had used yet. When that happens 30 times you start to think, "I should really get a sampler and start doing this."

In 1997, I got my first MPC, and then, after a while, I hit a roadblock. I remember vividly after my first record came out that I had this sort of semi-panic attack as I realized that if I was going to do this as a career for a long time, I was going to always be fighting an uphill battle of trying to find source material on records, and so, right then and there, I realized I was going to have to branch out to continuously make the kind of music I wanted. When you are completely at the whim of whatever you find on record, it's such an up and down thing. It can be very discouraging to take home 20 records and be like, "Fuck, I didn't find one sample on these." [laughs] I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, Dan. I feel like you've been able to move into the realm of live instrumentation in a way which still maintains the character that was present in your earlier records.



DN: Well, let me start with the earlier records. The biggest influences to me were bands like Public Enemy and Mantronix. Both were heavily production based—Public Enemy just stacked a ton of samples on a record. So I started from that background, and started making stuff in that nature—very out of key, which was kind of strange because I come from a musical background. I've been playing violin my whole life and understand key and tune and pitch, but I wasn't really thinking about that stuff, because the whole idea of noise being used in this way was just so incredible to me. So I started trying to stack the coolest, grooviest stuff; doing same thing as you, looking for samples and such.

I think it was in the very early '90s that I had a chance encounter with these kids who ended up being DJ Shadow, Chief Xcel, and all those guys—we had all just really started doing our thing. So I spent a few years helping engineer Entroducing... and spending time with Josh [Davis (a.k.a. DJ Shadow)] and those guys. They all kind of came to record with me because I had a little bit of a better handle on it, and me and Josh would shop for records two or three times a week, all the time. I was looking for breaks especially, because a break is a more useful foundation for starting to make music; you don't have to deal with key and melody and all that stuff. Josh and I went to Europe and Texas together, like really looking, and he loved it. He still loves it, but I don't love it. [laughs]

Josh and I kind of made opposite turns from each other philosophy-wise at some point where he was like, "I want to get every good record that was ever made ever." I was like, "That's cool," and I like that stuff, but I wanted to buy gear. I wanted to be able to make stuff that sounds like records, and I wanted to be able to get those sounds and freak things out. At that point, I was just interested in how to generate those tones, and I would read about Joe Meek and recording [Led] Zeppelin and James Brown. I'm not a student of that, but I did spend a lot of time going into studios to see how things were made and how it all worked. So, instead of being able to say that I had a collection of high-school funk records from Texas, I could say I have this rack of Neve [preamps]. It was a different philosophy, and over time it served me well. A sample becomes limiting—you're only able to go as far as you can chop that sample up. If you don't have to worry about the sample, then you can go anywhere, and I wanted to have the ability to do that. My tone developed that way.

RJK: Yeah, I can totally relate to that trajectory. It's interesting, I had the exact same pathway in terms of record digging. With guys like Josh—record-digger guys who are also producers—they have this duality when it comes to buying records. They can pull a record because they think there will be source material that they can sample from, or they can pull a record because it is an inherently collectible item. Honestly, the collector in me is a very dimly burning flame—I kind of just don't care. [laughs] There was just a point when I realized that having a Clavinet or Wurlitzer was much more useful to me than having a record with a Clavinet or Wurlitzer sound on it.

DN: Exactly, that's exactly right.

RJK: When all I had to rely on to make music was source material off of albums, I hit it hard. I was digging six or seven days a week. But as soon as I switched over to buying gear—particularly old gear—and trying to pick apart the engineering side of it, all of that same drive went into it.

One thing I wanted to ask you about, Dan, was that on almost all of your records, you really don't shy away from modulating a song or having non-linear changes in a song. It sounds like you have a pretty firm grasp on music theory and such, so I'm wondering if that is something you think about, or if those sorts of exploratory chord changes come naturally to you?

DN: Well, here's how it works for me. I took violin from the age of three to high school, and I was solid—nothing incredible—and it gave me a very good backbone of music in a particular way. I am way more comfortable doing single-note lines, but I don't think in chords; that's just not how I work… When I make a record, I don't think about the changes as much as they come to meet at points, I think of it as a movie or something. Like, I'm in the third act, and I need to bring more drama or light. I see my bridges as the points of introspection where someone is asking themselves "What should I do?" The change that takes place is made to reflect that. So, I know how to get there musically, but the reason I go there is because of the emotional context. A lot of times, I like to stay locked down in sort of a hip-hop way. Sometimes I just want to ride the groove harder, but in recent years, I've gotten away from that a bit because I've been in this more musical adventure and more emotional mode.



RJK: I've noticed on both of the Deltron records that you are comfortable with having multiple sections of a song, harmonically speaking. As a long-time fan of rap music, I feel like that's just such a severely underutilized tool, so when someone does it, I notice it immediately. I'm the kind of person, that if I hear 1-4-5 chord change, I will tune out within 30 seconds—unless it's a really incredible song and something new is happening melodically. But to me, an interesting song lives and dies by its harmonic content. There are just those chord changes that you've heard ad nauseum on the radio since you were a kid, and if you hear them again your brain goes, "Oh, that again. I know what that is." [laughs] For me, there are two types of music—one I can immediately transcribe in my head, and one that I can't, and as soon as I hear one that I can't, I'm intrigued. And your music has consistently had that aspect to it, basically.

DN: Yeah, I can understand where you're coming from. On your records, I think you even sometimes go there rhythmically. I really don't think about the songs in terms of changes though. I mean, I know they are there, but I always think of it in terms of emotion, because that's what brings me there. I hear what you're saying about the repetition of those same progressions, and I feel the same way, with the exception of AC/DC, because I can listen to them sometimes. [laughs]

How did you guys develop an ability to listen like that? Is it just from producing for so long?

RJK: For me, it came from the way I learned to make music. I've taken lessons, and went to a vocational music school for high school, but every encounter I've had with "traditional music education" has been a very bad experience, and it's made me hate music. The things that make me like music, I tend to find when I'm exploring on my own. The whole reason I got into music was actually Led Zeppelin's IV. That record had obviously been out for a while before I heard it because I was an '80s baby, but a friend hipped me to it, and then he played the intro to "Stairway to Heaven" on a guitar, and I didn't know you could do that; I didn't know that you could perform something just as it existed on a record. So I decided I just had to learn that, and that is the moment that got me into music. For the rest of my life, I've basically been doing exactly that—taking songs that I like and learning them by ear. It gives you a very immediate understanding of intervals and chords, and for me at least, as soon as you learn the patterns, for the rest of your life, no matter where you hear it, you just know what that is.

DN: I don't know where it comes from with me. I've been a big fan of music since the beginning and have always been listening and trying to understand what was happening, breaking down what sounds make it interesting and how the chords and melodies work together. But after a while, I began to start picking things apart less, and concentrating on the feel and what they did to get there. I was raised with the study of music and music theory. I have my own theory about music theory—not that it is a bad thing, it can be a great thing—but for me to be able to have enough music theory in my life to really understand what I'm doing when I make music, I would have had to study for all these years and never make a record. No matter what you are doing, in music-theory terms, someone can say you are making a mistake, but you are not. What you're doing may be justified in book 10, when you're only on book two. [laughs] There's been a few times in my life where I've tried to really learn to play piano, and every time I do it, I start making shitty music, and I think it's because I start locking myself into the beginner-y and intermediate level of music thought. Listening to music now for me can be weird in the sense that I don't want to take it apart, but something in my head makes me take it apart.

RJK: Yeah, I definitely understand that, and that's a thing that I actually struggled with for a long time. Do you want to keep certain listening pieces sacred and not know them like that? It's got sort a Wizard of Oz, what's-behind-the-curtain element to it. I've flip-flopped a lot on that issue, but in the last five years I've come down firmly on the side of picking it all apart, because I've realized that the more I discover music, the more I see that there is just such an insurmountable wealth of great music in the history of recorded audio, so I'm not worried about cannibalizing these things that I once felt sacred. I always walk away with a piece of knowledge from it. In a way, it's kind of a weird detour from the digging instinct that we were talking about earlier.



Are either of you very aware of the current crop of beat music, particularly the stuff that can be traced back to the LA scene with guys like Flying Lotus and Gaslamp Killer? Do you think that side of instrumental "beat music" comes from a lineage of what you guys started, or do you hear it as something different?

RJK: I'm not uber-versed in it, but I think it's really cool, personally. It seems like it's not entirely monochromatic to me. I wouldn't put Glitch Mob next to Gaslamp Killer or something like that, even though on paper you could maybe consider them of the same scene. What I really appreciate about a lot of that stuff is that they are not aiming at the same targets as I was when I started doing this. That's something I really appreciate. When I listen to guys like Flying Lotus or Gaslamp Killer, I feel like I'm listening to music that comes from a fundamentally different perspective than me and I like that; it's exciting to me.

DN: I tend to agree. The genesis of that form seems to have taken place more alongside the technology, and I think that certain people have embraced that and headed more that way. I feel like a lot of that stuff is more reminiscent of artists like Autechre than with someone who was doing more soul and groovy beats. I personally prefer their newer genesis of it because it's more interesting when people expand on that form. I feel like it's more of a music-making culture than a beat-making culture. I'm not into [beat music] when it sounds like a rehashing of something that's already been done. I just don't see the need for that.

RJK: Definitely. As a guy who cut his teeth on an MPC, when I hear some "new" instrumental hip-hop records that scream MPC soul sample, I don't think it sucks, but even it's a great track, I'm not intrigued in the same way as I am when I hear something that doesn't sound like it comes from the MPC perspective, or a continuation of what Dan, Josh, or I was doing years ago. The people that those LA guys looked up to were probably just as much 808 guys or Maschine guys as they were MPC or ASR-10 guys. It sounds like computer music to me, basically, and I don't mean that in a bad way. I mean that in the sense that it is pulling from a multitude of platforms—part sample, part drum machine, and part Pro Tools sessions, and in a way it's sort of indefinable, which makes it more interesting than when I listen to something and think, "Shit, any of us could have done that 10 years ago." [laughs]



What do you guys make of the SoundCloud community of beatmakers? There are some people that would say it's sort of helped spawn a copycat kind of mentality, with a lot of people painting by numbers with their productions in order to gain fans and such.

DN: Well, the way I'd put it is like this: People can do whatever they want musically, artistically, whatever. If we're talking about purely the politics and business of music, financially, you're kind of rewarded for doing the same thing you or someone else was doing as long as it was successful. Lex Luger is actually a good example. People really co-opted his sound, but why? If you can make hits and make money doing it, then more power to you, but artistically, I don't think it's that rewarding to just be making a second- or third-rate version of whoever has the hot track right now. Some people treat music as a business, but I personally don't, so to me, we're not really in the same business. But my big point to this whole thing is: Look at a record like Jay-Z's Magna Carta; not that it's the greatest record, but all the people who do production on there have been doing this stuff for 10 or 20 years. And you know why? It's because they change it up and do different things. Not everything they do is my favorite, but the staying power of these guys and guys like RJ and myself, just doing what we're doing, it keeps going on in a way that allows us to make the records we actually want to make.

RJK: Yeah, I wholeheartedly agree with that. People biting other people doesn't bother me in the least. In fact, to be purely crass about it, for people like me, it just makes it easier. I'm looking for holes, I'm looking for some shit that isn't being done. From a creative standpoint, I need a space to occupy that only I am occupying. So more people doing one thing, in a way, makes it easier for people like me—the more people that aim at target "A," it just leaves all those other targets open.

DN: I'm not necessarily looking for my own place in the world sonically—I just have it. And what I mean by that is that I make stuff because I want to make it. I like what's going on and I hear these great records and I'm inspired by them once in a while, but when I'm done, it sounds 100 percent nothing like it, because I'm not meant to do that. I'll hear something that knocks and try to play around with a similar idea and then, 10 minutes later, it's taken 18 lefts and you couldn't even imagine what I started out thinking about. [laughs] With trap for instance, there are a lot of watered-down versions of watered-down versions, and it's like, I've seen this before. I've seen people on the East Coast try to sound like DJ Premier, people on the West Coast try to sound like Dr. Dre, others try to sound like Pete Rock—it never works.

RJK: Yeah, I remember when I knew five producers who wanted to sound exactly like RZA, then it was Dilla, and the list just goes on. The funny thing about it is that you really have to work hard to not make those detours and left turns Dan was talking about. If you're really making music for your own enjoyment, you just can't stop thinking about things to try, and then sooner or later you're off trying to satisfy yourself and make something you find interesting. But you have to turn all of that off, just kill that spirit that's within you, if you're trying to clone someone else's sound. [laughs]

Hearing you guys talk about digging with DJ Shadow and hearing Public Enemy for the first time, it sort of sounds magical now, with hindsight. Do you think the current state of music is more stale or stringent in some ways?

DN: I actually have something to say about that—it's not stale right now. It's the most wild, innovative time ever, and I can tell you why. It's because no one knows what they are doing. You have no labels, no power, and no monopolies right now. Labels will barely promote their big acts right now. It's a time when anything can happen. There are YouTube superstars—not that they're my favorite acts at all—but 10 years ago or so, to get a song all over the radio there was money to be spent, stuff to buy—if you know what I'm saying—and even then, there were only so many slots for sale and if you were not on a major and you were not a priority, then it wasn't going to happen. But now, who knows? It's terrible in a sense that anyone can make a record with their laptop at a coffee shop, but it's only terrible because you get a lot of terrible music. The fact of the matter is, that same technology is going to end up in the hands of a genius as well.



RJK: Dan's totally right. If you look at the landscape of what's going on in music, a big part of it is that you have guys that don't give a fuck about the "rules of music," and with that, you're going to get great results. If we were to go back 10 years to the era of late Bad Boy and early Neptunes ruling the radio, you kind of knew what you were going to get if you turned on top-40 urban radio. Like, the new Mystikal single wasn't really that far off from the new Jay-Z single all that often. But now, you have songs like "Look At Me Now," the Chris Brown track. That fucking song is in no key. There is no key. [laughs] It's not in A-flat, it's in nothing. There's a lot of stuff like that—just a 70-bpm track with a few sounds and that's it, the track is done. Let's be real, that's pretty fucking avant-garde. But at the same time, you can turn on the radio and hear Miguel or something, and it's smooth and pretty and has a groove, and maybe there are some funk references to it. It just goes on and on and on. I'm not saying the music is great, but I do feel like we're living in a time where anything can fucking happen.

DN: I'll co-sign on that, 100 percent. That's why it's so exciting. Sure, there's a bunch of crap and riff-raff that comes with that, but I think all that has to exist for it to be this way.

RJK: That's why I sort of respect guys like Hitboy and Lex Luger and guys like that. I might not like every track that they do, but you can hear in their music that they don't give a fuck about your music theory lessons, dude. [laughs] You can hear it in their tracks, and I really like that. It gives me the same feeling of when you heard a Public Enemy record and you couldn't make sense of it. People would ask you, "Is this music?" People are saying a lot of the same things about music on the radio right now, and I like that.

[Jizz]

Nice one!

[wub]

http://www.dummymag.com/features/found-sound-close

Found Sound: CLOSE

DJ/producer Will Saul shares an eerie compilation of field recordings run through a 1950s plate reverb.



London-based DJ/producer Will Saul took a break from being the boss of Aus Music and Simple Records earlier this year to release his first album since 2005, and his only album under the new alias of CLOSE. Combining traces of house, techno, pop and soul, the project made use of an old 1950s plate reverb that Saul just happened to have lying around his studio - so, naturally, he's used it to distort the sounds of random objects falling and sent us the result for our Found Sound series.

Soundcloud

Hi, CLOSE! Tell us about this found sound.

Saul: "It's a series of recordings of largely innate objects hitting different surfaces - all done in our London studio. We recorded bunches of keys being dropped onto a metal surface and a handful of pens being dropped onto wood and other odd bits and bobs hitting things. We recorded it all with an old 60s portable tape machine that had a built in mic which would have been used to record interviews for TV back in the day. The tape machine had different speeds of playback, so if you slow the reordings down you get very different sounds to the intial recording. The keys sounded like bells and so on….There were also things coming out in the recordings that we hadn't planned to capture, such as me coughing, which sounded weird and spooky, almost like an animal growling, which we ended up using as well - happy accidents. We then ran these slowed recordings through an old 50s plate reverb and then further edited the sounds into the rhythm that makes up the intro on 'Wallflower' and underpins a lot of the rhythm structure for the song. Hopefully it all lends a unique weird and eerie feel to the track that would be difficult to capture in other ways…at least I hope so as it took bloody ages to do!"

How did you acquire a 1950s plate reverb, and did it get much use on your recent album, 'Getting Closer'?

Saul: "It belongs to Niel in the studio above us! I have no idea where he got it but we helped him move it into its purpose built room (it's huge and took five of us to lift) next to our studio so he let Tam Cooper (my production partner for most of the CLOSE album and owner of the studio) drill through into the reverb room and run some cables in so the reverb is permanantly plumbed into Tam's desk. This is an absolute result as very few of these things exist. It sounds amazing on vocals and we used it wherever possible on the album."

Whose use of field recordings in their music do you admire?

Saul: "Well Herbert is obviously the absolute master of this - he's made entire albums just using themed found sounds. DJ Koze is perhaps the best at injecting humour into tracks with his found sounds…I love the way he records something funny or weird, lets you hear the recording in full so you know what it is and then somehow catches a part of the recording and turns it into a part of the rhythm…it's very very difficult to do this well and his tongue in cheek humour really shines through."

What other founds sounds (if any) did you include on your album?

Saul: "There aren't really any others on the album that I can remeber to be honest, but Tam and I do like to try and record instruments that carry a resonance in a way that isn't strictly playing them in a traditional sense and program them into a rhythm. On Time Fades we lay an acoustic guitar on its back and then hit the strings with different objects and cut up the recordings to make the rhythm at the start of the track - I think this almost sounds like a basketball player's feet sliding and squeaking on a court surface…that would be a good found sound to record actually…"

[wub]

This is a present. From me, to you. It'll be up for about a few hours. I would ask those that get it not to share it as it's a bit of a grey area;

Link removed

Not for sharing. For review purposes only. Wub™ does not endorse distribution of copyrighted materials. But he does love you, you, sexy bitches

[Samuel_L_Damnson]

^~will check it

[fragments]

On the DL.

A lot of great gear talk to catch up on here!

[wub]

And it's gone.

[wub]

Further reading inspired by I Dream Of Wires;

Interview: Clark talks Kraftwerk, modulars and production - http://www.musicradar.com/news/tech/int ... on-555241/
Clark: the interview - http://www.timeout.jp/en/tokyo/feature/ ... -interview
CHRIS CLARK - http://www.barcodezine.com/Chris%20Clar ... erview.htm

Orphx: Industrial Revolutions - http://www.junodownload.com/plus/2012/0 ... volutions/
Secret Thirteen Interview - Orphx - http://secretthirteen.org/secret-thirte ... iew-orphx/

.

[fragments]

How did you like that documentary? Was thinking of dropping the 30usd on the long one. Edit: OK you obviously liked it...but I want to know more.

[wub]

How did you like that documentary? Was thinking of dropping the 30usd on the long one. Edit: OK you obviously liked it...but I want to know more.

Yeah, the 4hr Hardcore edition is the one I've been watching this weekend. Surprised at how accessible it was, like it wasn't all out nerd/stuffiness. The first part deals with the invention and development of the initial modular synths, and their impact both in terms of what they meant to music and their influence of the burgeoning counter culture music scene at the time, with looks at their gradual development into more and more mainstream use.

Second part is focusing on the current resurgence in modular units, interviews with Doepfer et al, as well as looking at the synth 'culture' that now surrounds modular ownership and development, boutique sellers and manufactuers. Last section is on the use of the modular synth in performance and recording today, just finished a chapter on the MUTEK festival and how modular use has changed to a more overt stage presence.

Honestly, have loved it from start to finish...had to stop halfway through and bust out a few of my own hardcore pieces to have a small jam as a result of getting the itch watching it.

The interviews with some of the artists I've heard of, but others (like Clark and Orphx above) that I haven't, so wanted to do further research on. Is also making me want Ableon even more watching how some of the artists (Clark especially) use it in a live set in conjunction with their modular units.

[wub]

http://forgotify.com/

There are millions – possibly billions, possibly even kazillions – of songs on Spotify. And some have never been played.

Forgotify is an amazing website that plays songs at random from Spotify: the only requirement is that they’ve never been played before. Not even once. And sure, so far we’ve had a lot of jazz and a lot of foreign language covers, but we’ve also had some really neat stuff.

[Jizz]

thats a website for the Truly Tru Hedz

[hubb]

nice thread