I went to college, but not for music, recording, or even writing and editing. I obtained a degree in Communications, with an emphasis on Visual, plus a minor in Art with an emphasis on Studio. This meant most of my studies were in film, filmmaking, photography, graphic design, sculpture, ceramics, illustration, painting, and such. Photography was fun, and I was able to borrow an old Olympus 35 mm camera with a fixed wide-angle lens that my dad brought back from Japan in the '60s. (I was happy, but it was nothing as cool as the new Olympus OM-1 and Pentax LX that the rich kids at my college had!) I’d skipped taking photography classes in high school, though I don't recall why. In college, I quickly caught up as my real interest was film, and film and still photography had a lot in common. Taking photos and developing rolls and prints in the darkroom was an interesting process, though I'm glad I didn’t spend too many years around all those chemicals!
When I first started Tape Op, I initially would ask interviewees to provide me with photos of themselves. After John Baccigaluppi joined up, we began doing some bigger interviews, many in person, so it seemed judicious to take photos of our subjects in order to have unique ones to run that we owned. John's a good photographer, but I'm not. It had been so long since college that I was really out of practice with using a camera. Though I understand the concepts behind taking a good photo, I've forgotten what most of the terms mean. Digital cameras had (mostly) superseded film-based ones, adding another layer of confusing controls and features. My current DSLR (digital single-lens reflex) camera is a Canon EOS Rebel T3 from 2012. The lens is pretty nice, and it can take great photos when used properly, but I manage to take some of the worst photos ever with it. Why is that?
I'm not even sure what all the knobs and buttons do. I only recently downloaded a manual, though I quickly got super bored reading it and gave up. I bought a used book, Canon EOS Rebel T3i / 600d for Dummies, by Julie Adair King, and have only read three paragraphs. It's a learning project I keep putting off, and every time I meet someone for an interview, I bring the camera and then realize I'm probably going to take a crummy photo because, once again, I have not figured out how to best use it. I'll pull out my Apple iPhone and take a few off-the-cuff photos just in case these somehow turn out better than my fancy camera, and sometimes they do. I really need to buckle down, learn a few basic settings, and get my photo skills in gear.
So, what does this have to do with recording music and Tape Op? I've spent an enormous of time learning how to record well. I seem to have an endless appetite for learning more about this art, and I'll still happily read whole books about technical topics or studio history that would bore the heck out of most people. When asked questions about recording, I'll likely have knowledge, opinions, and experiences of most aspects. I've been obsessed with this since I was a teenager. While I was in college, photography and film soon took a back seat to playing in a band. I knew I wasn't as passionate about film as I was about music; it was obvious to me, as I was continuously driven to be involved in one over the other. I'm not suggesting that every musician that wants to record themselves has to go this deep, but I'll also suggest that if you want good results, you need to put the work in.
Read up, study, try new techniques, and ask others for advice, but – most importantly – put the time in. There's no other way around it; you have to try and strive to do better every time you set out to record music. You'll never get better if you don't make a true effort. I can see now, as I did then, that perhaps it’s not necessary for me to hone my photography skills. It’s still not a passion of mine and I’m lucky enough to have a great staff that backs me up. My time remains focused on what I love. I’d encourage you to ask yourself the same question: Where are you putting your time and energy? And is it best serving your art and your life?