The Twain Shall Meet

I’ve mentioned before in this blog that I long ago came to discover what has in many ways been the most difficult part of having a record label. Finding a venue with the right supporting acoustic for the music and instrumentation of a given project is not easy, but it isn’t the hardest part. Neither is coordinating the schedules of all involved. Certainly producing, engineering, and mastering are labor intensive, as are the graphic design and preparation of the album artwork, coding the associated pages for the Soundkeeper website, and getting the word out to reviewers and customers.  None of these however, has proven to be as difficult as finding the right artists to record.

Back in December of 2014, in the Equinox entry in this blog, I wrote “Of course the artist’s music must interest me sufficiently to want to undertake a new project. That part is relatively easy. The tough part is finding artists whose music moves me and who are also capable of making a recording the Soundkeeper way, which is to say, those artists who can perform their music in real time, without requiring the safety of the studio to fix mistakes or requiring an engineer to balance the music. In this day of home studios and home recording, it seems the majority of players have gotten so used to the conveniences of the more common modern recording techniques, it feels like a rarity to encounter players who can, as I often put it, play a 5-minute piece in 5 minutes. The fact that many require a few hours to accomplish this makes the patchwork approach used for most current recordings a more practical means of recording them. In my experience though, the best way to achieve the excitement of a real performance in a recording is to record a real performance.”

So I wait with eyes and ears always open for the next Soundkeeper Recordings artist. A few years ago, my friend Sean mentioned some folks he had known since childhood who had a band he felt was a good match with Soundkeeper. In fact, they had two bands: an electric iteration called the Cosmic American Derelicts and an acoustic iteration called Hillbilly Water. Over time, both have joined into what remains the Cosmic American Derelicts.

After visiting their website, listening to samples of their music and watching all the videos there, then finding more on YouTube, I asked Sean to introduce Soundkeeper, the Soundkeeper approach, and myself to the band. It didn’t take long before we were making plans to work together. Being an avid fan of country/bluegrass music, I suggested starting with an all-acoustic album.

What would normally follow such a plan would be a search for the right venue in which to record this particular ensemble. From the previous entry in this blog, called The Silo: “…since the music for this project is country/bluegrass-oriented, I thought it appropriate to record these voices and acoustic string instruments in the intimate, woody atmosphere of a barn. What better place to record country than in the country? While there is no shortage of barns in this area, the Covid-19 pandemic was rampant and I was more than hesitant to approach folks, much less undertake a recording, until I was fully vaccinated.” 

That blog entry outlined the discovery, after vaccination, of a local venue that turned out to be perfect not only for this project but in other ways as well. So, with the place set we chose our time, and when the day came I met the band in person for the first time.

It was a hot July day and I got to the Silo early in order to set up. This worked out smoothly and when everything was close enough for a sound check, I went outside to greet the band as they arrived. Then we entered the barn and each band member had the same reaction I did when I first saw it. Eyes wide and mouth smiling, each realized this is no ordinary barn. No dirt floor or animals anymore. Instead, a fine finished wooden floor, comfortable furniture, and a grand piano (more about which in the previous entry). Up in the loft, a pipe organ and other instruments. Under the loft, a small kitchen with a refrigerator in which I’d placed lots of snacks and cold water to sustain us during the day.

We moved a few small pieces of furniture so the band could set up where I wanted them in front of the fireplace. In due course, we ran a sound check and after a few minor position modifications I requested to better hear everyone, we were ready to record.

For those interested in the recording setup, the equipment for this session was as follows:

• Microphones: Earthworks QTC-1 (aka QTC-40, matched pair)
• Mic cables: Nordost Tyr 2
• Interface: Metric Halo ULN-8 (serving as microphone preamps and analog-to-digital converters)
• Computer: Apple MacBook Pro
• Software: Metric Halo Console X (Session)
• Power cables: Nordost Heimdall 2 (for ULN-8) and Nordost Purple Flare (for computer)
• Power conditioner: Monster Cable HTS-400
• Vibration isolation: Custom made bases to support computer and interface

The Twain Shall Meet was recorded at 24/192 (24-bit resolution and a sample rate of 192 kHz).

The gear was pretty much what I’d used for the previous Soundkeeper Recording with the only change being a modification Metric Halo made to their Console X software, replacing the old Record Panel with an in-progress DAW called Session. I expect to see the capabilities of Session expand going forward. For now, like the Record Panel before it, along with the host hardware that is the ULN-8, it provided the most transparent recording device in my experience. 

With a few breaks, the Derelicts spent most of the day recording the songs that comprise this album and having a great time doing so. 

The The Twain Shall Meet page on the Soundkeeper Recordings website contains more information about the album, including samples from all the tracks, lyrics, photos and videos from the recording session, and a link to a page with “teaser” videos for the album.

George, Scott, Danny, Ed, and Nick, thank you for allowing me the privilege of recording your music.

The Silo

I first heard of Cosmic American Derelicts from a friend of the band who knows I am always looking for interesting artists to record for my Soundkeeper Recordings label. He knows I seek musicians whose work I not only enjoy but who would be amenable to the “recording without a net” process. After checking out the band’s website, a number of videos, and samples of their recordings, I found myself taken by their songs—some plaintive, others joyful—by their voices, and by their playing. I exchanged several email and text messages with their leader and bassist, George Kapitanelis. When George confirmed the band’s interest, the search for the optimal recording venue ensued, and therein lies a story of its own.

I had recently relocated to more rural environs of rolling hills dotted with farms, and since the music for this project is country/bluegrass-oriented, I thought it appropriate to record these voices and acoustic string instruments in the intimate, woody atmosphere of a barn. What better place to record country than in the country? While there is no shortage of barns in this area, the Covid-19 pandemic was rampant and I was more than hesitant to approach folks, much less undertake a recording, until I was fully vaccinated. Around this time I heard about one local farm that had a history of association with music as well as other creative endeavors. A few months later, after receiving the vaccine, I went to visit.

Widely known as the Silo, Hunt Hill Farm can be found on the National Register of Historic Places. The farm was active for close to 300 years when it was acquired half a century ago by noted musician Lyle “Skitch” Henderson. Henderson founded the New York Pops, was musical director at NBC, and was the original bandleader for the Tonight Show. Skitch and his wife Ruth operated the farm as an art gallery, cooking school, and museum. In 2003 they partnered with conservation groups and with the local town to found the Hunt Hill Farm Trust as a nonprofit organization to (per Wikipedia) “preserve their farm’s land and buildings and to celebrate Americana in music, art and literature through the creation of a living museum.” They sought to make the place an artistic center for the community.

Years after the Hendersons passed away, the board, despite their best efforts, determined their funds were insufficient to cover expenses. Hunt Hill Farm was closed down. No more “name” chefs teaching at the cooking school, no more famous show business folks and musicians visiting the farm. Much was put up for auction in order to pay the farm’s debts.

What would have been a sad ending was turned around less than a year later when Alessandro Piovezahn and his wife Daniele entered the picture. Though they were not previously familiar with the Hendersons or the Silo, they wanted a place to raise their family and provide the community with a space that fostered the arts. Alessandro is in the process of donating the farm to the Hunt Hill Farm Trust, the nonprofit created by the Hendersons, but now controlled by Piovezahn as Chairman of the Board of Directors and pro bono CEO. His vision is to restore the Henderson’s legacy. The Silo cooking school is set to return, as are various art exhibits. Walking trails on the land are going to be rebuilt, and there are already regular concerts and other public events on the premises.

I wondered if there might be a space at the Silo that would be appropriate for recording the project I planned. A phone call to Alessandro led to our meeting at the Silo where he showed my wife and myself around. As he spoke to us it didn’t take long to feel his infectious love of the place and his vision for it. We wanted to help in any way we could.

The first of a number of possible recording spaces Alessandro showed us was the largest. It has been used as a performance space, exhibit space for art, and as a hall for weddings. While the room was a fine one, it was reverberant in a way that would be great for a large choral ensemble but I wanted something more intimate for the upcoming recording.

The next building was the barn, built in 1820. As soon as I entered I knew this was the place. Part of the building is where Alessandro and his family live. This is where the Hendersons lived when they were here. But aside from the living quarters, what was long ago a farmyard barn housed this room, which is now part of the museum. Up in the loft, among other musical instruments, is an 1862 Vocalian pipe organ. On the walls, there are photographs of some of the celebrities who have visited the Hendersons here, and throughout the space there are other items such as some vintage books and, hanging from one of the rafters supporting the 27-foot high ceiling, the Henderson’s chandelier.

The main floor is home to one of the world’s most famous and sought after 9-foot Steinway grand pianos, a 1949 model D, known as the CD199 or “the Old 199.” This was the piano Henderson played at Carnegie Hall when he led the New York Pops. This instrument has also been played by Gary Graffman, Vladimir Horowitz, Sergei Rachmaninoff, Leonard Bernstein, Elton John, and John Lennon. The piano was kept in the basement of Steinway’s showroom on 57th Street in New York City across the street from Carnegie Hall. It became Skitch’s piano after Steinway decided to retire it in 1975 to end dispute among some of the world’s greatest pianists about who would be playing it next.

The room had exactly the qualities I wanted: primarily made of wood, with a quite short reverberation time, and lots of “air.” Clapping my hands to hear the room’s response, I smiled at what I heard, and remarked at the warmth and intimacy that would result from recording here. One of the greatest challenges of recording the way I do is finding the right place in which to record. The space becomes an integral part of the sound, almost another player in the band. This room fit the bill to a tee.

When working out the fee, Alessandro added a condition I was not prepared for but which made me smile and admire him more than I already did. Aside from the financial arrangement, he asked that I provide 100 lbs (~45 kg) of nonperishable food, to be delivered to the local food bank. It turns out that in addition to his community orientation regarding the arts and a place where folks can enjoy nature, Alessandro is intent on feeding the hungry. I was later to find out that providing some amount of nonperishable food is part of other events that occur at the Silo. What an unbeatable combination: promoting the arts, providing a place to commune with nature, and feeding the hungry! No wonder Alessandro elicits the desire to help him realize his vision any way one can.

Could I have been more fortunate? I found a perfect locale in which to record the Derelicts, met a wonderful individual with a marvelous vision, and helped feed hungry people at the same time. A recording date was scheduled, along with a second date if needed. The project was on its way.

Next time, the recording session.

Kay Sa

Thelonious Monk came up several times when I was discussing a new Soundkeeper Recordings project with Markus Schwartz. It was in the autumn of 2017 that I first proposed doing a follow-up to Markus’ Equinox, which I produced and recorded back in 2010, and which was selected by Stereophile as their Recording of the Month in February of 2011. That October marked the centennial of Monk’s birth and there were celebrations and concerts to commemorate the occasion.

Markus had been thinking about Monk and wanted to incorporate some of his music in the new project. He was also considering a different constellation of players to comprise his band, Lakou Brooklyn, this time out. His frequent musical associate Monvelyno Alexis would remain an important part of the band, taking on lead vocal duties for this album, in addition to his role as guitarist, composer, and co-arranger. Instead of the trumpet and flugelhorn featured on Equinox, this project would feature soprano and alto saxophones played by Godwin Louis, who is a graduate of the Thelonious Monk Institute for Jazz Performance, and was a finalist in the Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz Saxophone Competition. For this session, Markus also brought a different contrabass player to the ensemble: Haitian music pioneer Bobby Raymond.

I wanted a spacious, lively, yet warm environment for the recording sessions and chose to return to the 19^th century church I used for the previous Soundkeeper Recording, Winds of Change. Coordinating the busy schedules of all involved, Markus said we could record at the end of June. I reserved the space and on the appointed day, the band arrived early to set up and get the feel of the space. The plan was to run through the tunes, take an afternoon break, and then return to the church and play the tunes again as a second “set” as if at a gig.

This session marked my first serious use of the new Metric Halo 3d hardware and software. I set up the gear and ran a few sound checks with the players, letting them listen to the short recordings I captured as part of the sound check. When everyone was satisfied with what they heard, we were ready to go.

For those interested in such things, the equipment for this session was as follows:

• Microphones: Earthworks QTC-1 (aka QTC-40, matched pair)
• Mic cables: Nordost Tyr 2
• Interface: Metric Halo ULN-8 (serving as microphone preamps and analog-to-digital converters)
• Computer: Apple MacBook Pro
• Software: Metric Halo Console X (Record Panel)
• Power cables: Nordost Heimdall 2 (for ULN-8) and Nordost Purple Flare (for computer)
• Power conditioner: Monster Cable HTS-400
• Vibration isolation: Custom made base to support computer and interface

Kay Sa was recorded at 24/192 (24-bit resolution and a sample rate of 192 kHz).

The material included a number of traditional Haitian tunes, some augmented by music and lyrics from Monvelyno. The band also played two tunes by Thelonious Monk: “Bye-Ya” and a Rara (Haitian processional music) version of “Epistrophy.” When Markus and I, listening to the playbacks in my studio, had trouble deciding which of the two takes of “Bye-Ya” to include in the album, it dawned on me that we could include both. We chose one for the body of the album and the other as a “bonus” track to add after a pause following the last main track.

Every session has its special moments and while this one holds many great memories for me, one in particular stands out because it provided a perfect illustration of the power of music. Early in the session, the band played “Minis Azaka,” a traditional Haitian song with original lyrics and music from Monvelyno. As the song proceeded, I found myself standing and swaying to the music. As Monvelyno sang the lyrics in Haitian Creole, a language I do not speak or understand, I stood there wiping tears from my eyes. When the take was over, I told the band that was the most beautiful piece of music I’ve ever had the good fortune to record. I was still wiping my eyes when Markus informed me that the lyrics are powerful and sad. I didn’t see the translation until many weeks after the session, but in those moments as they played it, without my understanding the words, the music and Monvelyno’s vocal performance spoke to me in a profound way. Jeff Buckley was spot on when he said music isn’t merely an art form, it is a force of nature.

The 3d-updated Metric Halo hardware and software came through brilliantly, allowing a new sense of inner dynamics to be captured in the recording, along with a sense of focus and of the air in the room that I’ve not heard before with other recording devices, analog or digital.

Stand by for a Kay Sa page on the Soundkeeper Recordings website, with more information about the album, including samples from all the tracks, lyrics, photos from the recording sessions, etc. The album will be released on May 1^st. 

Brother Markus, thank you again. You, Monvelyno, Godwin, and Bobby have given music lovers another treasure trove of beautiful Haitian music to inspire the soul and warm the heart. Ayibobo!

Catching Up

With 19 months having passed since the last entry in this blog, yes, it is high time to do some catching up.

One of the most interesting projects I’ve worked on since the last entry in this blog was the newest album by Jason Vitelli, whose Confluence I had the good fortune to produce, record, and release on Soundkeeper Recordings. For his latest, Head Above Tide  (extended-res version here), Jason needed a different approach than the one we used for Confluence. Where the latter was recorded live to stereo, for this project he needed the ability to overdub and to record different parts at different times. The project utilized the technique of recording the various parts with a stereo microphone array, similar to what I use for Soundkeeper projects, but with provision for laying each of them down at different times. (I wrote about this technique in Recording in Stereo (Part 2)). 

The basic tracks and many of the overdubs were done at Top of the World Studios, which I designed for my good friend Art Halperin. Art and Jason recorded it and the three of us mixed it there. Then I mastered it back at my own studio. Those familiar with mastering know that it involves listening to an album repeatedly. After doing the mixes and mastering this record, I think it notable that when I wanted to relax afterward and listen to some music, I kept going back to this album. Kudos to Jason for creating another original that challenges the listener (as all great music does) and rewards the effort with new joys on each hearing.

***

The first time I mentioned Metric Halo in this blog was back in November of 2013 in the entry called Three Decisions (Part 1). For those who may be new to MH, they are a premier supplier of pro audio hardware and software, with a fiercely loyal following among those who’ve been lucky enough to use their gear. The hardware consists of computer interfaces that serve as microphone preamps, A-D (analog-to-digital) converters, headphone amps, and D-A (digital-to-analog) converters, with more features than I will list here. The software consists of various plug-ins, a sophisticated audio analysis application, and the MIO Console with Record Panel, the latter being built into their hardware units. Granted I have not heard every single competing product out there, but I believe I’ve heard the contenders (many in blind comparison tests). That said, to my ears, the MH gear excels in each of these categories to the point where, in terms of ability to simply get out of the way, I have not heard anything that comes close to matching it, much less besting it.

A while back, Metric Halo announced an upgrade was coming for their hardware and software. They called it 3d – a step up from the 2d boards it was to succeed. Keeping in mind the last sentence in the previous paragraph, I was curious to hear what the new hardware and software would achieve. Earlier this year, the hardware upgrade for my ULN-8 became available. The 3d hardware was in, but the beta software was still to be developed. And the unit wouldn’t run without it.

***

Toward the end of 2017, I spoke with Markus Schwartz about the idea of doing a follow-up to the Equinox project I produced and recorded back in 2010, and which was selected by Stereophile as their Recording of the Month in February of 2011. Thus the seed was planted for the next Soundkeeper Recording. Markus had ideas about the music and direction he wanted to go in, and about the players he would select for this outing. I told him about the upgrade to the recording gear from Metric Halo, and that there was time since I couldn’t record until I had received and tested the new software. More on this project in the next entry in this blog.

By the Spring of 2018, the software component of the 3d upgrade arrived and the listening tests began. Somehow, designer B.J. Buchalter had taken what I’d already felt was the best recording gear I’d ever experienced (particularly when used to make high-resolution, 24-bit, 192k recordings), and raised it up another level. Dynamics, at both micro and macro levels, are more in evidence. Spatial resolution and overall sense of focus have been improved, increasing the realism of the recordings and allowing the gear to get even further out of the way than its previous iteration. Sometimes you have to hear something better to know how something can be better. Congratulations B.J. and Metric Halo.

***

When Soundkeeper first started with downloads, we were breaking up the extended-resolution (24/96) and high-resolution (24/192) versions of our albums into gigabyte-sized files in order to keep download times as short as possible. Somewhere along the way we realized this was not necessary, and that a full album at any of the resolutions we offer could be provided as a single downloadable zip file.

Another development related to downloads is that most customers now seem to prefer these to the files-on-disc formats we offered before we got into downloads. For those who play files on their computers or via a dedicated music server, this makes sense as there are no shipping costs and the music arrives in minutes. With this in mind, the next Soundkeeper Recordings release will be offered as a CD and in six downloadable formats: 16/44, 24/96, and 24/192, as .aif and .wav. There will be no files-on-disc formats and no CD-R version. (We do have some stock of these for our previous releases but they will not be replaced once they’ve sold out.)

Next time, the new album.

Musicians, who’s watching out for your music?

Back in March of 2014, I posted the Can you hear what you’re doing? (Part 1) entry in this blog. I said it would be the first in a series written with the hope of helping musicians and other recordists who are interested, like myself, in studio setups and recordings that get out of the way.  Since then, there have been other entries dealing with the subject.  The current entry, while not about studio setups, does deal with recordings a bit, and it deals with live performance.  And it is about things that get in the way.

I have been fortunate in recent times to attend concerts by some of my favorite artists, some of whom I’ve followed for decades but never, until now, got to see live.  The music at all of the shows was everything I’d hoped it would be, the players on their game, delivering thrilling performances, taking chances, and taking the audience on amazing musical adventures.  Why then, I always wondered, when the music is so great, is the sound so awful?

I remember one performance by a singer/songwriter whose work I very much admire.  The song was of the up-close-and-personal sort, an almost private voicing of the artist’s feelings.  I will never understand why the “soundman” decided this particular tune required deep reverb on the vocal, accompanied by spinning disco-type lights.  The effect was to take what was an intimately sung ballad and turn it into a sung-from-afar dance number.

More recently, I attended a show where the opening act was a very gifted solo artist accompanying his vocals by fingerpicking on a Martin acoustic guitar.  What is the special talent required on the part of the soundman to make the sound of a solo voice and acoustic Martin hurt?  All the inherent delicacy and sparkle of the Martin was gone.  It sounded more like a left-out-in-the-rain, trash instrument, while the vocals were heavily compressed and had the midrange frequencies boosted to the point where the words stabbed at the listener’s ears.

When the headlining band took the stage I noticed that the drums were being mic’d and fed through the public address (or PA) system.  If left unamplified, the drums would not have had the slightest difficulty filling the small auditorium in which the show took place.  They could have been loud from the last row of the balcony.  When amplified as they were, this forced a horserace of loudness for all the other instruments and all of the vocals.  The result was that I could see the musicians playing their hearts out, but the sound was a near-undifferentiated mélange of mush.  I could see how melodic the lines played by the bass player were, but I couldn’t hear them.  Oh, I heard lots of bass, but the lines, like all the other sounds from the stage, were just out of focus.  Loud, for sure, but not at all clear.

The show was musically engaging but sonically a mess, and I pondered why this is the case so much more often than not with live shows.  Certainly the public address systems in use are partly responsible.  They are seemingly optimized for high speech intelligibility at extreme volumes.  That might be great if you’re listening to someone speak from 1/4 mile away, but not so great when you’re in the same room listening to music.

Add to this the propensity of the soundman to “do stuff” at the mixing desk.  At the last show, I saw him working during that voice and solo acoustic guitar performance, and I wondered what it was that made him feel the need to push faders.  (Over the years I’ve learned that what makes some sound engineers great is not so much what they do but what they don’t do.)

Of course, as with everything else, there are exceptions.  I remember attending a show by the Grateful Dead many years ago.  The sound at their shows was justly lauded.  I remember a wall of loudspeakers behind the band—with tie-dyed grill cloths!  Their sound system simply reinforced the band—as opposed to being a weapon aimed at the audience.

It is getting to the point where seeing a musical artist live does not necessarily mean hearing them live.  Most of the time nowadays the audience is subject to the soundman’s take on what the musicians are doing.

One of my favorite moments in live music occurred at a show I attended a couple of years back.  The acoustic trio on the stage was about to play a traditional folk song and for this tune (unfortunately, only for this tune), they stepped to the very front of the stage, leaving the microphones behind them.  Something wonderful happened.  The audience got very quiet, very attentive.  We heard the three voices, along with the guitars and mandolin, blend beautifully.  It was pure musical magic.  Then they went back to the other side of the mics and the bright, piercing sound of the PA dominated the rest of the show.  But for that one song, I surmised other audience members might have felt it the same way.  Their enthusiastic response at the end of the tune confirmed this.  Even if they might not have been conscious of precisely why, I think the level of communication between artist and audience deepened profoundly during that song.  And then the moment was relegated to memory.

Do the players realize how their music sounds from this side of the PA?  Of course, I frequently ask the same question when listening to their records at home.  I question whether the drummer and the rest of the band really want the drums to sound as distorted as they sometimes do.  I didn’t notice him using a distortion pedal on the snare during any of the concerts.

In addition to systems and records that get out of the way, and let me hear the musical message as directly as possible, I long for live performances where the PA system and the sound person get out of the way.  It is the contact with the artist and their work that is where the greatest musical magic is to be found—for me anyway, and I would guess for a large number of other listeners too.

So where are the musicians in all of this?  I always wonder if they aware of how their music sounds from the audience.  Or perhaps they like the way it is presented.  If so, well, it is their music after all, and they should determine how it is heard.  But if not, I ask the musicians: Who will watch out for your music if not you?

The Lowdown on Downloads

(This entry was updated 12/2/18.)

Three years ago I posted the entry in this blog called Listening to Tomorrow.  I wrote about the wonders I experienced after loading my music library onto a computer hard drive and using the computer as a “music server.”  Since then, the idea of music existing as computer files—as opposed to physical discs one loads into a player—has expanded.

Today, there are a myriad of music server applications for the various computer operating systems.  For those who want to take the fidelity beyond the capabilities of their computer’s sound card, there are countless external digital-to-analog converters (DACs) to choose from.  There are also numerous online sources for downloading music.  Some still offer the data-reduced formats such as mp3.  Others now tout “full CD quality”—in some quarters, an oxymoron.  And some offer extended-resolution and high-resolution files.  (For more information on the different formats, see the blog entry cited above.)

My music server has become the way I listen, whether via Wi-Fi feeding smaller systems in the house, or via direct connection to the music library drive when listening on the main system.  Yet for several reasons, as a consumer I have been hesitant to purchase downloads.  Early experiences with more than one provider were disturbing in that what was often sold as “high resolution” turned out to be upsampled Redbook—in other words, plain old CD sound, in a high res “package”—sold at a high res price.  Whatever the reason (or reasons), this was so rampant I feared the fledgling market might never get off the ground.

I was also not enamored of the .flac format in which the vendors delivered their downloads.  While called a “lossless” way to reduce file size, making for convenient, faster download times, the results were not so lossless according to everyone participating in the comparison tests we ran in my studio.  (Based on what I see on the Internet and in many printed audio journals, it seems many listeners are not bothered by flac.  In our tests however, the results were unanimous—everyone heard a difference between the source .aif masters and the .flac files created from them.)

In time I was glad to see some vendors offer what appeared to be the raw PCM formats I prefer, such as .aif and .wav.  These are the formats used to make the recordings.  However, it turned out that at least with some of the vendors, what was being delivered to the customer was still a .flac file.  The “download manager” software the vendors provided for use on the customer’s computer expanded the file back to .aif or .wav.  For my own purchases, I avoided the downloads and stayed with CDs or with the high resolution files-on-DVD versions that some of the vendors sold.  When the discs arrived, I’d extract the files—this is called “ripping” a disc—and add them to the server myself.  For all the files on my server I chose the uncompressed .aif format—the same format I use to make and master recordings.

As the owner of the Soundkeeper Recordings label, I stayed away from offering downloads for several reasons, even though many folks have requested them over the years.  The prime reason is that I seek to deliver our recordings to our customers with nothing less than the very best sonics, and from my perspective the download schemes I’ve seen involve compromises.

A full album at high resolution (24-bit/192 kHz sampling rate) can be larger than four Gigabytes in size.  Where others reduce file size—and by that means shorten download times—by utilizing so-called “lossless” compression formats (such as .flac or .alac), to my ears these result in subtle alterations of the sound, hence I don’t consider them lossless.  Trading fidelity for convenience is not what Soundkeeper wants to offer our customers.

Another common approach taken with downloads, is to break albums up into “singles”.  Our artists go to considerable efforts to create whole albums, so this is the only way we want to deliver their work to our customers.

It took a while for the answer to come but I believe there is another way.  Soundkeeper Recordings will soon offer downloads without any of the compromises cited above.  How to deliver full albums at up to 24/192 resolution?  Fans of the so-called “lossless” formats compare them to zipping a word processor file.  Yes, the zipped words come back intact, even though I can’t say I find the same to be true of flac’d music.

So what about zipped music?  We’ve used zipped music files before, such as those on the Format Comparison page of the Soundkeeper Recordings website.  And when unzipped, no one who participated in our tests could differentiate between the source file and the copy that had been zipped.

What about file size?  Converting an .aif or .wav file to a .zip file does not reduce the size to any significant degree.  It does make for simple downloads though, without exacting a sonic price.  When the files have been downloaded, the user unzips the file and simply drags the tracks into the server application of their choice (iTunes, Amarra, etc.).

One of the reasons I prefer .aif format for my music files is that the files can contain metadata (artist, album title, track title, composer, album cover art, etc.).  This metadata becomes part of the file.  The .wav format does not support metadata, so when the user adds this information in their music application, it resides in the application and not in the file.  If the file is moved out of the application, the metadata is lost.  In contrast, move an .aif file and the metadata travels with it.  The .aif file downloads from Soundkeeper Recordings will have the full metadata in them when they arrive on the customer’s machine.

Within the next week, we’ll begin offering downloads in six formats: 16/44, 24/96, and 24/192, .aif or .wav.  For those who prefer disc formats, we plan to continue offering CD versions.  The downloads will replace our files-on-disc formats and are just a long overdue addition that will please a different set of Soundkeeper listeners.

Everything Still Matters

Soon after the previous entry in this blog—Everything Matters—was posted, I heard from a friend who recently purchased a 24-bit, 192 kHz, high-resolution download of a classic album.  Like many of us, he sought an even better “view” of the recording than is offered by the CD version he already owns.  To his surprise, he prefers listening to the CD version, and finds the high res download as sounding “a bit bright.”

The authors of some recent tech website articles denigrating high resolution might see my friend’s comments as vindication.  In my view, this says more about the authors than it does about the audible reality.  Why these websites didn’t choose authors more experienced with systems for music playback, and more interested in sound quality, remains a mystery.  (Vide John Atkinson’s very well considered Access Journalism vs Accountability Journalism.)

In order to determine whether high resolution is the source of the problem (any problem), it must be compared with its standard resolution equivalent.  This means for a valid comparison of delivery formats the only difference must be the delivery format.  Both versions must be created at the same mastering session, by the same engineer, using the same channel (signal path).  There, as the man once said, is the rub.  In most cases the two items being compared were created at different mastering sessions, often by different engineers, in completely different mastering studios.  Right away any sort of equivalence is out the window.

Different mastering engineers have different ears, different sensibilities, different approaches, different talents, and different weaknesses.  Even the same engineer might take a diverging tack when remastering something they’ve mastered in the past.  When the two versions are done by different engineers the likelihood of variance in their methods is pretty much a sure thing.  This is expectable since they don’t share a common set of ears, and no two engineers I know of will do things the same way.  With regard to new masterings, in Everything Matters I said, “Sometimes the results are improved sonics, with newly revealed nuances from the original recording that were lost in the original mastering.  Other times, and sadly all too often, the remastering is simply a louder, brighter rendering.”

There is also a very good to excellent chance the signal path for the two versions differed.  Even in the same studio, things tend to change and evolve over time.  For an album like the one my friend purchased, which was originally recorded on analog tape, the A-D converter used in mastering can have a profound effect on the results.  This is particularly true at higher resolutions, where I have found many converters are stretched beyond their capabilities.  To wit, a lot of converters specified for 24/192 actually perform worse at this rate than they do at lower rates.  This I attribute to the significantly increased demands on clocking accuracy and on analog stage performance at the wider bandwidths.  It would seem to be easy to put 24/192 on a spec sheet but not so easy to design a device that can perform to the potential of the format.  And the converter is just one of several components comprising the signal path, each of which will have its own sonic consequences.

All of the above assumes the same source tape was used for the different versions.  This is a big assumption, even when “original” is claimed.  I’ve experienced a number of instances where, having handled the tapes myself, I knew the subsequent claims from some quarters of “original” were at best mistaken. Whether original or not, if different source tapes were used, the outcome could be acutely altered.

The bottom line here should not be surprising: A carefully made CD (or CD resolution file) will easily outperform a not-so-carefully made 24/192 file.  This has to do with how effectively the capabilities of each delivery format are realized—or not realized, as this case illustrates.

I concluded Everything Matters by saying “Everything after the microphones (i.e., mic cables, AC mains power, AC mains cables, mic preamps, recording format, recording device , mix, if any, mastering, playback format, playback device, interconnecting cables, amplification, speaker cables, speakers, speaker positioning, vibration isolation, room acoustics, etc., etc.) merely determines how much of what was captured the listener gets to hear.”  In my experience, when everything in the production of an album is the same except for the delivery format, a 24/192 file should reveal so much more of the source as to make the 16/44 (CD) version sound coarse, ill-defined, airless, and broken by comparison.  So either my friend’s 24/192 file was created from an inferior source, or the mastering was just not up to that achieved for the CD.

To my ears, properly done digital audio at 24/192 fulfills the promise digital made back in 1982 when the sonically hamstrung CD format made its first appearance.  I have said elsewhere that 24/192 is the first format I’ve ever heard where I have not yet been able to distinguish the output from the input—the first format I know of that is capable of giving us a virtually perfect rendition of the source.  In view of this, I must admit to being somewhat astonished at the negativity from some quarters of the tech web and tech press.  Nevertheless, if music lovers are to receive the benefits of this wonderful fruit of technological progress, the folks creating it must tend their crop more carefully.

Everything Matters

In my earliest days as an assistant in a recording studio, I learned the ropes as basic tracks were laid down on tape, overdubs and “punch-ins” were added, stereo mixes were created, and the final, edited mixes were mastered.  From those early days onward, I frequently heard what I came to refer to as The Three Most Heard Phrases in Record Making:

“We’ll fix it in the mix” (when something in the recording was not quite right)

“We’ll catch it in the mastering” (when the mix didn’t exactly fix it)

“They’ll never hear it at home” (when it still wasn’t nailed in the mastering)

Rumor has it that Frank Zappa once said “We’ll fix it in the shrink wrap.”

There has been some discussion on the Internet recently about which aspect of record making has the greatest influence on the sound of the finished product.  Some say the space in which the original recording is made makes the greatest difference.  Others say “it’s all in the mastering.”  Asking three people will elicit at least four different answers.

The space where the recorded performance occurs will impact the musicians, influencing the sound they hear from the instruments and from the environment, thus influencing how they play.  But with typical recordings, where the microphones are placed close to the instruments, the sound of the environment is often minimized.  Alternatively, some recordings are made using very few microphones, which are placed to deliberately pick up the environment as well as the players.  Here, the space becomes in integral part of the final sound, as it is when a listener attends a live performance.  Still, this does not suggest the space has the greatest influence on the sound.  One might be in a fabulous room but the wrong microphone selection or the wrong microphone technique can very easily override the sound of the space.

Typical major label recordings involve three main production phases: recording, mixing, and mastering.  There are those who feel the mix—where a multitrack original is turned into a stereo (or in some instances, surround) version—is the biggest factor in shaping the final sound.  Instrumental and vocal level balances are determined during the mix.  Tonality is often adjusted, placement of instruments and vocalists on the “stage” is determined, and special effects might be added.  There is no doubt about the magnitude of influence the mix has.  Yet the final result will always be influenced by the ingredients used to create it.

With the advent of the remastering phenomenon, labels have given new life to older releases.  Sometimes the results are improved sonics, with newly revealed nuances from the original recording that were lost in the original mastering.  Other times, and sadly all too often, the remastering is simply a louder, brighter rendering.  Either way, through these re-releases, many music aficionados have discovered the influence mastering has on the sonics of a recording.  As the last stage of production and the first stage of manufacturing, mastering is the last opportunity to make small—or large—changes to the sound.  While the degree of influence on the final sound can sometimes be quite surprising, here too, the final outcome is always fundamentally impacted by the source material.  A pachyderm’s aural appurtenance does not a silken wallet make.

To my ears, an mp3 of a Keith Johnson recording, listened to in the car, on the highway (with the windows open!), can reveal more Life than many a typical studio master played on the finest, most carefully set up systems in the most optimally treated rooms.

In my experience, once the signals are leaving the microphones, 90-95% or more of the recording’s ultimate quality ceiling has already been determined.  Everything after the microphones (i.e., mic cables, AC mains power, AC mains cables, mic preamps, recording format, recording device , mix, if any, mastering, playback format, playback device, interconnecting cables, amplification, speaker cables, speakers, speaker positioning, vibration isolation, room acoustics, etc., etc.) merely determines how much of what was captured the listener gets to hear.

House Picks (Part 2)

The last entry, House Picks (Part 1), began with my writing “I am often asked which albums I consider to be particularly good sounding.  Sometimes the question involves recordings I’ve mastered and other times it is more general.  There is in fact an ever-growing group of recordings I turn to for reference whenever I make a change to the system in the studio, or when I’m evaluating a new piece of hardware or software, or when I just want to demo something for a client or friend.  Needless to say, I love the music on all of them.  This entry is about those I find to be sonically exceptional.  All of this comes to mind as I just happen to be evaluating a new change in the system.”

In the first part, I wrote about recordings of classical music.  This is because some of my all-time engineering heroes have primarily recorded this genre and because recordings of this type of music tend to be documents of real performances as opposed to the studio creations that dominate in the more popular musical genres.

In the world of popular music, it is more challenging to find recordings with great sonics.  There are several reasons for this.  Most typical studio productions are made using a large numbers of closely placed microphones.  The recordings are subjected to varying amounts of dynamic compression, sometimes used as a special effect but more often simply for the sake of loudness.  And lastly, what is commonly referred to as “stereo” is actually derived electronically during the “mix” where the individual monaural tracks are combined into two channels and each sound is sent to either the left channel, the right channel or some combination to give the appearance of the sound being somewhere in between.  Any sense of depth and space also tends to be created electronically rather than captured acoustically.  Even so, there are examples that, in spite of all the processing, still effectively convey musical meaning within the context of the sounds they provide.

To my ears, some of the best among these are the solo albums by Mark Knopfler.  The first one I heard, Sailing to Philadelphia (Warner Brothers 47753) was a great help when I was evaluating various means of isolating gear from external vibrations.  As the gear got better isolated, it was easier to hear the distinctive way Mark picks the strings of his guitars.  (Not that one had to listen for this; it just became more obvious.)

More recently, having purchased the rest of his catalog, I’ve often played tracks from The Ragpicker’s Dream (Warner Brothers 48318), Shangri-La (Warner Brothers 48858), Kill to Get Crimson (Warner Brothers 281660), Get Lucky (Reprise 520206), and all the others.

Another artist in the pop realm whose recordings I find sonically superior is Rickie Lee Jones.  Just yesterday, the track “Tigers” from Traffic from Paradise (Geffen 24602) provided some insight into the new degree of low level information being revealed by the most recent change to the system.  It is always amazing to me how, after knowing an album inside-out for many years, there may still be new sounds to hear in it.

Other Rickie Lee Jones albums that I find sonically special are The Evening of My Best Day (V2 Records 22171), The Sermon on Exposition Blvd (New West NW6112), and Balm in Gilead (Fantasy 31760).

Of the albums I’ve had the pleasure of mastering, my favorites are Enya’s Watermark (Geffen 24233) and the entire Bob Marley & the Wailers catalog in the series I did for the Tuff Gong label in 1990.  Of the Marleys, I’ll often pick Survival (Tuff Gong 422-846-202) or Exodus (Tuff Gong 422-846-202) when I want to test the system.  Another one of my prime choices from the albums I’ve mastered is Work of Art’s Waves (Sword In The Stone SSR56).

Finally, nothing tells me more about how a system (or device within it) is performing than recordings I’ve made myself for my own Soundkeeper Recordings label.  Having stood at the position of the microphone array at the recording sessions, and having compared the signals from the mics with what I was hearing in the air, provides a unique perspective into each of these projects.  Even more than when mastering an album, where one learns every little sound during multiple listens over the course of the mastering process, having made the original recording and been in the space with the players during the event itself affords an unequaled vantage point on the reproduction of same.  With this in mind, I’ll always bring out the recordings I know best of all.  These include Work of Art’s Lift (SRx001), Markus Schwartz & Lakou Brooklyn’s Equinox (SRx002), Jason Vitelli’s Confluence (SRx003), Paul Beaudry & Pathways’ Americas (SRx004), and Work of Art’s Winds of Change (SRx005).

The postman just delivered a package with some new albums I ordered.  I hope its contents are the makings of a future “House Picks” entry in this blog.  I’m off to the studio/listening room.

House Picks (Part 1)

I am often asked which albums I consider to be particularly good sounding.  Sometimes the question involves recordings I’ve mastered and other times it is more general.  There is in fact an ever-growing group of recordings I turn to for reference whenever I make a change to the system in the studio, or when I just want to demo something for a client or friend.  Needless to say, I love the music on all of them.  This entry is about those I find to be sonically exceptional.  All of this comes to mind as I just happen to be evaluating a new change in the system.

In general terms, there are certain engineers and certain artists from whom I’ve found consistent results that I deem outstanding in one or more ways.  I note that every engineer whose work I have admired has their own approach, different from others and also different from my own approach.  Nonetheless, I find much to enjoy in their work.

Among the first recordings I’ll play when I want to hear what something can do are some recorded by Keith Johnson for the Reference Recordings label.  The recording of John Rutter’s Requiem (RR-57) is one of my all-time favorites.  The 300 voices of the Turtle Creek Chorale and the Women’s Chorus of Dallas combine with the fabulous acoustics of the Meyerson Symphony Center in Dallas and the Fisk organ therein, along with woodwinds and percussion to create musical and sonic magic.  I first heard this recording long before I saw a photo of the room in which it was made.  From the sound alone, it was clear this room has a very high ceiling.  After enjoying this record for years, I finally saw a photo of the space in which it was done, and learned the ceiling is some 80 feet above the floor.  For spatial reproduction, ability to separate complex musical passages, and the deep bass of that organ (you can feel the air pressure changes in the room!), this recording is a wonder.

An earlier Keith Johnson recording of the Turtle Creek Chorale is another favorite.  Testament (RR-49) features Randall Thompson’s music set to text by Thomas Jefferson.  The album also includes other compositions by Ron Nelson, Howard Hanson, Aaron Copland, and Leonard Bernstein. I’ve often said this record is so clear, you can almost tell what color sweater certain vocalists were wearing.

I have several recorded versions of Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring and The Firebird but Eije Oue’s traversals with the Minnesota Orchestra (RR-70) are easily among my favorites.  Like all of Keith’s work, space and dynamics are astounding.  This is a stunning recording of some of my favorite music.

For me, the pioneers, the trailblazers of great recording were the team of Wilma Cozart and engineer C. Robert Fine.  While their recordings for the Mercury Living Presence label might have just a bit of microphone-engendered brightness, they remain for me among the earliest examples of performances I enjoy which are superbly recorded.  When listening to these, I am constantly amazed to realize they were recorded more than half a century ago.

Some of my most treasured albums done by Fine and Cozart are their recordings of Antal Dorati and the Minnesota Symphony Orchestra performing Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring (434 331-2) and The Firebird (432 012).  I’m also partial to the team’s recordings of Janos Starker including Bach’s Suites for Solo Cello and Sonatas in G & D Major for Cello and Piano (432 756) and Italian Cello Sonatas (434 344).  Bob Fine’s recordings are magical windows to the performances.

Jack Renner’s recording for the Telarc label of Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue and An American in Paris (80058) played by the Erich Kunzel and the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra is a house favorite.

Next time, some samples from the world of popular music.