Recording: Go With The Flow

Two of my favorite subjects in recording: signal flow and levels. Simple and often taken for granted, yet grasping them well is your safe haven in times of trouble.

Let’s start with signal flow. It’s basically a sound wave or an electric voltage (in this case music) that starts somewhere and ends up hitting our ears. It flows in a direction, with one thing outputting signal, and another receiving it as input. Its charming when someone wants to replicate the exact sound of an instrument that they’ve heard on another record. Easy, right? Well, an approximate is. But when you look at the signal flow, you begin to understand how unique every situation is, and how literally impossible it is to replicate any recorded sound truly exactly. Let’s say it’s a guitar you are recording. Following the signal flow goes something like this:

1) Fingers holding a pick pluck a string, which vibrates and creates a sound wave at a given frequency. How a person does this is as varied as the amount of humans there are.
2) This wave goes to the magnets of the guitar pickups.
3) The magnets turn this into an electric signal that goes through the wire and electronics of your guitar, out of the guitar output jack.
4) The guitar cable picks it up from there, and transfers it to the input of your pedals.
5) In and out of each pedal, until it goes out of the last pedal.
6) Another cable picks the signal up, and takes it to the input of an amp.
7) Then it runs through all of the amps circuitry, gets amplified accordingly (hopefully by tubes/valves), and then goes out of the output transformer.
8) Which goes into the speaker cable, and the speakers.
9) The speakers are another magnetic device, which receives the electronic version of the original sound wave generated by your pluck of the string, and the speaker cone moves back and forth pushing air in a way that replicates this waveform.
10) A microphone in front of the speaker captures this output with a small diaphragm that gets pushed by the air that is being pushed by the speaker, and turns this into another electronic signal.
11) This signal goes through the microphone electronics, and out into another cable.
l2) The cable takes it to a microphone preamplifier, which takes the small signal from the mic and turns it up louder.
13) Here’s where some options can occur. You might run the signal through more devices (eq or compressor), or you might go straight into your recording device. Let’s say you are recording on your computer through an interface like a Duet or something. So, the signal up to this point has been a solid waveform. Analog. But it is now converted into a digital representation of that. Which is like a connect the dots in reverse. 48,000 times a second, the converter takes a snapshot of the amplitude of the signal waveform, and that volume is a number. These numbers are output into your USB or Firewire cable into your computer. As these numbers are written to the hard disk in the form of a .wav file, a visual representation of this is displayed by your software. A connect the dots line that looks like an analog sound waveform.
14) Once in this state, the signal can be processed by plugins in the software, to reshape the waveform delightfully. And of course there’s the internal signal flow of your recording software, which can really frustrate you if you don’t understand it.
15) Back out of the computer it goes, through your USB or Firewire cable and into your interface.
16) This time, the numbers that are the dots that make up your pretend waveform are converted back into an analog, electrical signal.
17) Out of your interface it goes, into some sort of cable, connected either to your monitors, or headphones, where another speaker cone pushes air in a way that represents the signal’s amplitude and frequency.
18) Finally, this waveform as air molecules hits your eardrum, another diaphragm similar to a microphone, vibrates the bones in your ear accordingly, and turns that into an electric signal that your brain interprets as sound and music.

What could go wrong? A helluva lot, actually. Each step of the way is unique to every situation. Every cable, mic, string, converter, speaker…everything. And especially every ear, no two of which are exactly the same. No two people hear ANYthing exACTly the same.

Anyways, the point being: every step of the way is an opportunity for difference, improvement, and trouble. If you find yourself in a mess when you are recording, then it is in your best interest to understand every step your signal goes through, and what direction it’s travelling in while it goes through, so you can solve the problem. Ignorance of this may be bliss, but it is also embarrassing and costly when you lose time having to call someone who does know. Not to mention there is a unique delicacy of delight that comes from abusing the rules and practices that you know are good and right.

At every step along the way, the signal is at some sort of level. Volume, voltage, whatever. It has a measurable level. It is crucial to make sure that every point of connection between devices is matched appropriately. All ins and outs of devices are designed to operate at some optimal level. Ignorance of this is a great way to screw things up, and cause yourself grief. More specifically, I want to mention what level you actually record things to disk or tape. With tape, there was a whole set of rules, which have now been largely abandoned since tape has been largely abandoned. Things like, you couldn’t record high frequency stuff like cymbals too loudly on tape, or they would distort in a yucky way. Mid and low frequency stuff distorted nicely, though. In the digital world, its slightly different. There’s just a simple maximum volume you can record at (0dBFS), and you don’t want to go over it, or your waveform gets the rounded peaks harshly flattened in a way that sounds/feels yucky. But one step further, there are good practices that will help you maintain good sound and sanity. There are many great, searchable articles on this, but I’ll summarize with what my own methods are. I like to have my individual tracks maintain an average around -18dBFS, and hit peaks around -6dBFS. How do I measure or know these levels? My favorite plugin ever: The PSP Vintage Meter. I set the OVU reference level to -18. The needle will move a bit higher and more bass-oriented stuff, and a bit lower on more treble-oriented stuff. But it shows the average or RMS signal level in a way that I understand, even if it’s a bit old-fashioned. Reminds me of the meters on the tape machines I used to use. There are more metering plugins out there now, but this has been around for a long time, since I started recording in the computer 10 years ago, and is the one I like the most. For peaks, I just watch the metering in the software. It is usually good at showing with a little number what the peak of things like drums are hitting. Averaging that peak around -6dBFS keeps things balanced and cool, and most of all manageable. Your plugins will be more agreeable to those levels. Your mix will come together more easily, without having to keep pulling your master fader back.

For the master level, I strap another Vintage Meter on after all processing and set the OVU reference to -14. I’ll let the meter bump up to +3 a bit in loud sections. Basically, this replicates what we used to call a “hot tape level” (Which reminds me of my other favorite plugin, the one I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to make: FerricTDS from Variety Of Sound. Feels and sounds like my old MCI tape machine with Ampex 456 tape). When you mixed down to a half-inch tape machine, and you let it go that hot, it compressed and did awesome stuff. In other words, I use the old levels we used to use for tape machines and vinyl records and cassettes as my benchmarks. I tried to make super loud records back in the days when we first figured out you could, and it was fun. I mastered a demo for Jason of his band The Emergency that was the loudest record we’d ever heard at the time, which was kinda fun. But, the bummer is: it’s already loud. If you turn it up, it hurts. At least to me.

But, everyone’s ears are different.

PSP Vintage Meter and FerricTDS

Guitar Gear: Pedalboard Pornography

Andy's PedalboardThis is my pedalboard. Go ahead, look at it. Don’t touch it, though.

If you are at a band’s show, you may have noticed that either before or after they play, you will see a bunch of nerdy dudes hovering around the front of the stage where the guitar player’s pedalboard is, trying to sneak a peak at what he has, and trying not to look like we’re doing it. We can’t help it. Before you could see, hear and buy any pedal you wanted on the interwebs, it used to be much more of a mysterious thing. You would hope to catch a glimpse of some unique ‘piece’ that produced some amazing sound, and if you just had it too, you would undoubtedly rule the world of guitar. Or at least have another thing to sell some other poor guy. But even now, with access to all that on tons of websites, it can’t be helped. You just gotta see what he’s using. What a bunch of doofs guitar players are.

I’ve been using pedals since 1985. You heard me. I haven’t tried or heard every single pedal in the world that has ever existed, but people call me and ask me about pedals as if I have. I don’t know why. Do I wish I have tried and heard (and owned) every pedal in the world ever? Of course. And these days, you can see and hear things on the internet in such a thorough way, that I don’t always feel like I have to. But nothing beats the real thing, having that pedal, playing it through your rig, feeling it in your own hands. ‘Gear Talk’ can be helpful, but it can also get disgusting. I have disgusted myself thoroughly, at times. You just need to use stuff that you respond to, that gives you the feeling and experience that answers you. Then you will give that experience to others (via a live show or recording), and what gear you’re using won’t intellectually matter to them, unless they’re a bunch of guitar players, which means you’re probably just playing at NAMM (which is kinda lame). Most importantly, if you are a genuine guitar artist (or, ‘guitartist’, if you will, which is only one letter away from ‘guitardist’, by the way), you should be able to make just about anything work, and spending thousands of dollars on ‘magic’ boxes will never end, because the magic has to be you.

Also, I have a motto: “convenience causes cancer.” It applies to everything in life, including guitar rigs. The more convenience you try to achieve, the more the purity of your signal gets compromised, like a cancer. Sometimes you can live with it. Sometimes it’ll put your light out.

I’ve had 4 major pedalboard setups, this being the latest. It is setup to cover many bases, many situations. I would do things different if it was just for one band, so there are some compromises made. Anyways, your mileage my vary, but this is how I do it and here’s how it goes:

1) The white, elbow-end cable comes from my guitar. Sometimes I put a wah inbetween my guitar and this input. I have the VOX V848 Clyde McCoy.

2) The first pedal plugged into is a Loop-Master ESR. It has two send/receive loops in series, and with a stomp of the switch reverses the order of those two loops (both loops are always on). Sometimes reverb sounds way better (more destructive) when it comes before your fuzz. At least I think so.

LOOP 1:

3) Right away, the signal goes into another switcher, the Loop-Master Clean/Dirty Effects Switcher. This is an ‘either/or’ type of switch. Two send/receive loops, but this time the switch chooses between them. So, one of my loops goes to the Barber Tone Press and Analog Man Sun Face, and the other loop goes to J.Everman Fuzz Drive and the Baja Tech Baja Boost. Most often, I use this setup precisely as advertised: one loop is ‘clean’, the other ‘dirty. However, the Sun Face can come on and make things fuzz-crushed. Amazingly, the Sun Face even works fine with the Tone Press on (a buffered pedal before a fuzz usually makes things tinny and fizzy). The other two pedals in the other loop stack well, too. Having them both on, with the right settings, makes for another type of sound. Side note: I have the original J.Everman Fuzz Drive. It is perhaps my all-time favorite distortion pedal. It is the only pedal I’ve encountered that can make your already overdriven amp sound bigger (and not just more ‘gainy’). I love that thing. I also have the new version (G2), but do not prefer it quite as much, even though it is still great. The tuneable voice of the Baja Boost is great as well. Very versatile and useful. Also, depending on the band/situation, I switch out these pedals for different ones, like, in The Black Lantern I use the ZVEX Fuzz Factory in place of the Tone Press.

4) The output of all this craziness goes into the Radial Switchbone. This is the master buffer. The fuzzes all come before this because, as I mentioned, fuzz after buffers tends to sound crummy (unless you are purposely doing fizzy instead of fuzzy). This is quite a useful pedal. It has a buffer that you can dial back a bit. It has a buffered tuner out (which goes to a TU-12 I’ve had for way too long), which is important, because you don’t want to split out for a tuner if your signal isn’t buffered. It has a tuner mute switch, which can be switched to boost, with switchable boost types (various combos of mid-boost and adjustable gain). The boost with the mid-hump into the Marshall is completely rocking. It is an A/B/Y pedal, that splits the signal and allows you to choose one, the other, or both. And the B channel can be phase inverted (important if you use a Marshall), ground lifted, and has an isolation transformer on it. Ridiculous. My B channel has a line that goes right out the back of the pedalboard, and usually goes to a whole other effects setup (like the M13, or my weird 90′s rack gear). Sometimes I run it to the stereo volume pedal’s B side before it goes out the back. The A channel goes on to the rest of the pedalboard.

5) The Switchbone’s A channel goes into some sort of overdrive here, which is usually something of the ‘tube screamer’ or ‘tube amp’ type. Pictured here is the Boss Blues Driver, which has been modified by me with the Monte Allums BD-H20 kit. I have done two other pedals with his kits (a CS-3 Opto and an SD-1), and I highly recommend them. They’ve made all of these pedals sound stellar. Sometimes I will put the HBE Power Screamer here. With the Blues Driver, I can run a very clean amp, and use the pedal to replicate the slightly overdriven tube amp sound. So, that sound comes before the time-based effects (delay/reverb), and keeps things ‘clean’ and ‘pro’ sounding, or with a flip of the ESR, the delay can be put in front of this pedal to get that bit of grit on the echoes. If I’m running an overdriven amp, then the Power Screamer is usually here, just acting as a boosty thing.

A word about overdrives: one of my favorite things to read on a message board is something like “my search for the perfect overdrive is over!” It’s never over. I think that the overdrive search (along with the delay search) will be endless as long as there are people making new pedals. It’s a bizarre delicacy, this ‘perfect’ overdrive thing, and would be my guess for the most ‘bought it/loved it/wanted something more/sold it’ category of pedals for guitarists. What a bunch of dorks.

6) Next up, we hit the Loop-Master Micro Loop that has the Boss PS-5 Super Shifter in it. I love this pedal. I use it on every song in The Black Lantern. In other situations, like CUSH, I use it most often for an octave-up, 12-string kind of thing. The early versions of this pedal were kinda rough, and didn’t track well. However this was used to a purposefully tweaky effect on “My Iron Long” by Radiohead. This one tracks well, though.

7) After that, it’s the Mod spot. Currently represented by the Analog Man Chorus, which I’ve had for, like, 10 years now. When I started playing in The Violet Burning again in the early 00′s, I was looking for a chorus that had a tweaky depth to it, and was true bypass. I’m quite thankful that Analog Man was around back then, there weren’t a lot of options. I will swap this out for other pedals I have in this category like my BF-2, DC-2, or the PH-1r. I wish I had access to all these pedals at once, and had originally built a bigger board that had space for it, but it was such a big board it was too heavy and unmanageable.

8) Finally, after all that, it goes to the Boss FV-500L volume pedal. I like the volume knob on the side that allows you to make it so the heel position is just quieter, but not all the way off. I use the ‘L’, or, low-impedance model because the signal at this point has been buffered. You would use the high-impedance one if it was coming right after your guitar.

And that concludes the ESR LOOP 1. The signal goes back to the reverser pedal and then on to LOOP 2:

1) First up is the Eventide Timefactor. I’ve had it for awhile now, and I really like it. The functionality and the sound quality are both very high. I can dial in a sound that is very close to my all-time favorite delay pedal (which I used exclusively on the first CUSH album). I did this with my Line6 DL4, too, back in the day. Just copied the sound of this other pedal as best I could.

There’s something magic about the right delay pedal. Right now, the pedal of the moment is the Strymon El Capistan, which a few of my friends have. It’s wonderful. I’d love to have one, as well. The feel of a delay is a very personal thing for guitar players who are so inclined, and is another search that never seems to end.

2) After the Timefactor, LOOP 2 continues into the Empress Tremolo. When I got it, there weren’t as many others out there as there are now. It admittedly isn’t the most lush tremolo I’ve ever heard, but it still sounds great. Most notably, I love the different patterns. I wish the tap was less accurate, and averaged out your stomps a bit better. I have it on the board in a position where the tap button is right next to the tap button of the time factor. I could conceivably stomp on both taps at the same time with a well-placed foot.

3) Last, but not least, my perhaps favorite section of the whole board: reverb! I have the two reverb pedals in another Loop-Master setup. I overdid it by getting the master bypass (I could certainly turn them both on or off at the same time with another well-placed foot), but oh well. I pretty much always use the Boss RV-5, I love the modulated verb setting. In the other spot (which actually comes first in the signal path), I use either the Digitech Digiverb or the Boss RV-3. These pedals uniquely do the thing where the mix knob can go to 100% wet signal, which I use a lot. I don’t know why my RV-3 has white knobs, every other one I’ve seen has the black knobs. It looks more like my RV-2, which I also like a lot. Whatever the case, I love reverb, and it’s fair to say that I quite overuse it. They are often both on. I like having them in the loops, so that a dead stop on the reverb tail can be achieved, if necessary.

That’s it for LOOP 2, back to the ESR, and then out to an amp through the purple jacketed cable, which is most often my 62′ Vox AC30.

I use George L cables for everything, and I build my own power cables out of parts that I get from Mouser. The whole thing is powered by a Pedal Power 2. The Timefactor and Radial use their wall warts, which plug into a mini multiple-outlet extension cord that plugs into the extra AC out let on the Pedal Power.

The actual board itself is something I made myself from Home Depot wood and metal edging from Amazon. I have a nice table saw, and I like to build my own stuff. I have endured plenty of half-mocking comments like, “This looks like Andy’s science experiment” and such, but hey, this is the way I do things.

I definitely think a Jedi should know how to build his own lightsaber ;)

[I have, for the sake of ease, voiced everything from the male perspective, however there are plenty of awesome female guitar players out there, so everything here could be a "she" instead of a "he". You know what I mean.]

Production Notes: The Autumns – The Angel Pool

The-Autumns-The-Angel-PoolOne day in the mid-1990′s, Jason and I went by The Coconut Teaszer for something, I think to see a friend’s band play. We had been playing there somewhat regularly with the band we were in. There was a band opening, to a mostly empty room, and we stopped to give a listen. The singer had long, afro-curly hair, that was parted sharply down the middle, and sticking suspended out on the sides. That, with the ancient Egyptian eye-makeup he had on, made quite an impression. The bass player was way cool looking, and had a sound that was straight off of a Cure or Cocteau Twins record. Lots of chorus and treble. The drums were simple and awesome, the guitarist playing lush sonic scapes and pretty melodic lines…I was thinking, “Who are these kids? How do they know of the bands that they’re getting these sounds and stuff from?” They seemed too young to have grown up with that very specific segment of the early 80′s thing. They were also deftly mixing it with early 90′s Britband stuff. It was surprising, especially since everyone else on the planet seemed to be doing post-Grunge, Hardcore, or goofy Punk.

Anyways, I loved it, and told the singer so. Surprisingly, he knew who I was already, and when I suggested we work together somehow, he agreed as if he had already considered it. They had recorded two EPs that were released on cassette (I still have them), and wanted to make another. So I started going to their rehearsals, and we arranged to record that EP at the Green Room. They wanted to see if I was the right guy for them, and I was happy to work with a band that actually had a clear vision and sonic roots in music that I respected and loved. I was bummed, because there was a song on the cassette EP I really wanted to record, but they were “saving it for the full-length”. Regardless, the resultant EP (Suicide At Strell Park) was great stuff, with the song “Pale Trembles A Gale” being the first 24-track tape recorded mix I had done that I actually could stand.

Working with this band perfectly exemplified what I think to be my best role as a Producer/Engineer: they had a clear vision, well-written songs, and knew all their parts, but needed an extra outside opinion to help decide things, clean up messes, and someone to record it that liked cool guitar sounds and lots of effects and such. Since things went well, we repeated the process for the full-length album “The Angel Pool“. They had a record deal, and a small budget, but we managed to squeeze the tracking all in at the Green Room, spending lots and lots of late hours trying to make something beyond the means.

They had simple guitar rigs, Matt (Telecaster) having his Boss ME-5 plugged into a silverface Fender Bandmaster, and Frank (Les Paul) using an Alesis Quadraverb GT into the front of a 2-channel Marshall JCM800 half stack. I believe Jon used a Rickenbaker bass (if I’m not mistaken), and had a pedal situation of his own for compression and chorus and stuff. His amp had a tweeter, which was necessary to be mic’d up, in order to get the sound they liked. I don’t remember what kind of drums Eric had, but, it was a nice kit, and he was very specific about the sounds and the cymbals he used. They didn’t need a Producer to change them. They just needed someone to capture them as best as possible, and help them get what they heard in their heads. Let’s just say I enjoyed the mission, and tried as hard as a human can.

I was happy to be able to finally record ‘The Garden Ends‘, because that really was the song that leveled me at the Teaszer. I was still relatively new to being an ‘Engineer’ (or, Recordist), so it challenged me the whole time. We did this on tape, so when two songs blend together like ‘Sunblush‘ and ‘Juniper Hill‘, you had to actually record them that way, spacing them just right, and make sure all the blending sounds are on tracks that don’t tape over stuff from the other song, etc. If we hadn’t just done that a few years earlier on a couple songs in my own band, I would have been lost. It was also very tough to get the stark transition in the song ‘The Angel Pool’ right. We didn’t leave it to the mix, we had to print it that way. The super quiet tiny guitar drone was one of the hardest things to get right on the whole album. This is how we used to make records, though. No computers. No tape edits. No auto-tuner. Just people playing it ’til they got it right, some old-fashioned comping, and recording things how you actually wanted them to be, minus the reverb and delay added for lushness at mixdown. And since this was recorded at the Green Room, people were always around, and I had my friends Frank and Eric to lean on, so much so that they are credited as additional producers. I needed it. I was 26 and engaged to be married. I had my share of breaking points during this. To wrap it all up, Jason ended up doing the artwork, which I think fits the story well.

These guys were also the first band I worked with that had masterfully planned arpeggio-based guitar parts. I had to keep track of it to make sure, but Matt always planned carefully that he wasn’t playing some wacky crap notes that didn’t mesh with Frank’s more melodic parts. The orchestration they had already figured out amazed me. Even with all that, I still managed to sneak my guitar in there (by their request, of course) and lay down a couple parts that helped “finish” things a bit on the choruses of ‘Juniper Hill’ and ‘Eskimo Swin‘. That second song, in particular, is a favorite. Very Tears For Fears in some way, and a great guitar solo section.

We talked a lot about everything during this record. We shared an enjoyment of many things, and brought new things to each other (like The Jerky Boys tapes, and the like). I had seen Twin Peaks when it was on TV originally, but they watched the VHS tapes quite a bit, and reawakened my appreciation. The last two songs are quite a tribute to the David Lynch aesthetic. Like all great bands, these guys were a bit polarizing in their scene, some people loving them for how serious they were about what they did, and some thinking they took themselves a bit too seriously. I experienced them as friends and musical/philosophical compatriots, and in many ways they taught me everything I didn’t know about the life I thought I knew everything about. I can’t separate myself from this record, and find myself an emotional wreck by the end of listening to it because it means too much.

Gene mixed it, up at Front Page in LA on a vintage Neve console. I wasn’t around for the mix, I was busy, and thought that it would probably serve the record better if I didn’t try to micro manage the mix. I had become too close to the whole thing to “hear it” anymore. I remember Gene coming back after it all and just laughingly saying, “They just kept saying ‘MORE REVERB’, so that’s all I did.”

Which was fine by me, that’s for sure.

______________

Recording: Not Producing

Sometimes people ask me to teach the how to record, and/or produce. They are two different things, which beg distinction.

Recording is engineering. In an extreme representation, it is a person in a lab coat with a clipboard that looks like a scientist. That’s how it used to be, actually. Recordists were engineers, and no one else was allowed near the equipment. Microphone-placing, cable-running, button-pushing, switch-switching, knob-turning, fader-riding, tape-machine-operating, note-taking scientists.

Producing is human management. Pulling together the right people for each job (songwriters, musicians, star performers, arrangers, studio, engineers), managing the budget, keeping a keen oversight of the whole project, and making sure the people with the money and the people with the talent didn’t kill each other.

As time has gone on, it has blended. Now, a person usually says, “I’m a producer,” and what they mean is, “I know something about making music and how to record on my computer.” Basically, laughable to anyone brought up during the earlier eras of modern recording.

When I started, most places were recording on tape machines through large format consoles. I had taught myself the basics at home on my 4-track cassette machine, and so while making records in studios with my band, I observed enough to say, “This is the same thing, just bigger.” So I started asking questions and throwing myself into it. Before long, I valiantly proclaimed myself to be a producer/engineer, which Chris Colbert (who actually knew what he was doing) appropriately laughed at. But, this is how humans learn and progress, copying each other, and faking it to make it. Good for us.

Thankfully, even though I was an amateur bugger, he continued to answer my questions. In one of my favorite moments, I asked him how he recorded so well. It seemed effortless for him to get great sounds, and so I expected some magical, mystical thing that would blow my mind. He said, “I put a mic up in front of what I want to record, get a level to tape, and hit ‘record’.” Not exactly the epic secret of all recording-kind that I expected.

But, he was right. That’s what you do. That’s recording. What separates good recording from just recording is all the knowledge, wisdom and experience of doing it over and over again, watching and learning from others, and (in my opinion most importantly) understanding things like signal flow and levels (next post will be about them). If nothing else, those last two will get you out of trouble when you’re wondering why things are sounding wrong in a bad way.

You can learn to record, if you can understand that a microphone picks up sound, transfers it through a cable to some gear that adjusts the volume of it, to a device that records it. You’re a couple buttons, switches and mouse-clicks away from being someone who records.

Maybe not quite an Engineer. And definitely not necessarily a Producer. But, you’re recording, and it’s easier than ever.

Audio-Engineers

Guitar Gear: Use What Works

Last bit of general philosophy.

A friend of mine recently sold a guitar for large sum of money, that was quite nice, in favor of keeping one that he purchased for $5. Because the cheap one sounds better.

A friend of mine recently decided to abandon the use of his mega-rack in favor of an all pedal-board set up. Because he needs to have the pedals in front of him for the immediate interaction.

I’ve been told that the Edge will often skip using his super-awesome rack setup in favor of an M13 when he’s writing.

When I was 21, we opened for a band that was “bigger” than us, and had the gear to say so. As we were soundchecking, they were awaiting the arrival of the guitar player’s rack (which was probably $15,000 worth of gear back then) from the repair shop in L.A. I, at the time, had just what I could barely afford, which was a simple one-space rack unit called the Digitech GSP21. That, a wah pedal, and one decent amp. And an embarrassing guitar. We finished checking, and the sound guy kinda railed on my guitar sound, as was usual back then. Then, when the bigger band was ready to check, they plugged in his huge rig, lit it up, and……..it didn’t work. It produced little to no sound, and was basically useless. He had to play the night on his small, practice-size amp. With a couple pedals.

I remember saying to myself, “Well, at least mine works.”

I took that Digitech unit on tours, over to Europe and Russia, and used it for every live show for a good 3 years straight. It never failed. It still works.

I’ve bought and sold a lot of gear. I know people who’ve seemingly bought and sold more than the rest of us combined. I’ve had highly complicated rigs myself, always in the quest for that elusive “thing” that this “one new pedal” will surely bring. In fact, when the above mentioned band played and recorded it’s last official show ever, my highly involved rig was falling apart the whole night, and at many moments didn’t even work. I had to go back and re-record all my guitar parts so we could release the album (I played them live, in one take to keep the feel, but, yeah, oh well).

All this to say: use what works. Whether it’s super expensive and super involved, or super simple and devolved, just use what works. Obviously in a mechanical sense, but more so, in a sense of “this is the stuff I like, know how to use, and isn’t so complicated that I couldn’t fix it myself.” And then use it well. At least that’s how I look at things. And remember: a big rig doesn’t necessarily make a song any better.

Almost 10 years after the ‘soundcheck’ show, I was producing an EP for a band who had just returned from England having worked on their full-length with a guy who was in a band that had one of our mutual guitar heroes in it. The guitar player said to me, “I got a new rack unit, well, an old one. They said it was the unit they used on all their records for a while. It sounds awesome.” I’m, of course, thinking, “What is this exotic piece of awesome gear that I’ve probably never heard before that I must now get my hands on to capture the same elusive sounds that my hero had?”

It was a Digitech GSP21.

Edge and Corgan big rigs