My first attempt at studio tracking a band — outside of one that I played in — was for a punk group called Doll Fight!. This was a single song recording project, which would be featured on an upcoming compilation album. At the time, I was severely hamstrung when it came to both gear and the recording space (which in this case turned out to be a friend’s very acoustically unfriendly guest room). For the kit, I think I went with two condenser overheads and maybe a SM57 on the kick drum (if even that). The guitar went through a Metal Zone and was then DI’d along with the bass. We did two or three takes, followed by quick vocal overdubs and some saxophone. In the end, it took about an hour or so and we were all relatively pleased with the result.

However, I remember at the time thinking that I could have produced a much cleaner product with a better space and more gear. So, when the band approached me about doing a full-length album, I jumped at it. We had more time and even access to a spacious church which added beautiful natural reverb (and yes, I went with a Beta 52A on the kick this time). On my suggestion, we used a click-track and each member recorded their parts separately. In the end, the record was by all accounts more “professional” sounding.

Yet, listening back today, I can’t help but feel that something was lost in the process that was present in the “one off” track we did. That earlier tune had the gripping energy of a band playing together combined with a sense of rawness that was much more representative of what this group did live. In this case, rather than detracting from it, the less than ideal environment actually enhanced the “punkness” of the recording.

This was an important lesson for me. The pursuit of the clearest mix and tightest performance is not always what a project calls for. In fact, many of those happy accidents are what really give a recording its unique character. This is one reason why I often still prefer the honesty of bootlegs over that studio spit shine.

Today, I occasionally run into a related problem where a track comes out too clean and must be digitally downgraded. This process can actually be incredibly challenging, which I suspect is due to our ability to be keenly aware when something has been doctored to look or sound a certain way. An example would be aged film filters, which are usually so obvious when applied that we can easily tell them apart from real aged film. And this notion applies equally well to mixing.

One track that I attempted this technique on recently was called “Chloroform.” My goal was to recreate a sound as if the instruments were recorded on a four-track cassette recorder, which I did not have access to. To give you a sense of this aesthetic, picture a slow whirring, low-battery winding down tape sound from the 80s.

For this to work, I needed to do some time manipulation — which I accomplished in Logic via the “Time and Pitch Machine” tab. Here, I needed to record the instruments in a higher tempo (~120), which would then be slowed down to create the effect. The problem was, the effect was a little too abrasive on the vocals. So, I decided record the vocals straight at the new tempo (95), with a low-octave effect and some subtle autotune. I did a little more pitch shifting work to massage the drum tone, then added a slight chorus to the overall mix, topping it off with some tape delay (which works fairly well in introducing analog-like artifacts.)

In the end, I was quite pleased with how good, or rather bad it sounded.