For over 40 years, NRBQ has been a codeword among fans of American music in all its forms. The New Rhythm and Blues Quartet (or Quintet, if you're referring to the band's original lineup with vocalist Frankie Gadler) doesn't have lukewarm fans — they're record store diggers and liner-note scourers. Examine the backs of their classic LPs, and one name consistently appears: "Tom Mark, engineer." His fruitful relationship with the band spanned their most creative, prolific decade, from 1975's All Hopped Up through 1985's She Sings, They Play (with country singer Skeeter Davis). His discography also includes dozens of records by visionary jazz/modern composer Carla Bley and her associates (including Steve Swallow, Karen Mantler, and Jack DeJohnette), as well as more mainstream albums by The Isley Brothers (Go For Your Guns), Todd Rundgren (Faithful), and even Meat Loaf's Bat Out of Hell! Tom currently resides in Ulster County, New York and operates Hudson Valley Recorders, focusing primarily on mobile recording. He's also a staff member of the Electronic Music Sound Department at nearby Bard College.
How did you get interested in music?
My father was a radio announcer. Early on I'd accompany him to the radio station, and go on various remotes. He was involved with fundraising for the Sloop Clearwater [Hudson River Sloop Clearwater, Inc.], which Pete Seeger founded. I went on to work at that station [WEOK FM in Poughkeepsie, now WPDH], and shortly thereafter I attended a recording session, loved it, and went on to try and get any work I could at the time.
What music were you interested in?
The Band, Cream, and Jimi Hendrix. Certainly a lot of the folk music I'd been exposed to through my father. He also totally won me over with jazz; I got seriously into Thelonious Monk.
How did you end up working at Albert Grossman's Bearsville Studios in Woodstock?
I started out sweeping the floors there — waxing them, in fact. This was early in 1975, maybe late '74. At the time, Studio A was a big empty space, and Studio B was a big room with acoustic treatment. The control room had four Westlake speakers, and the console was a Quad Eight.
How did you go from sweeping floors to engineering sessions with Todd Rundgren, The Isley Brothers, and Meat Loaf?
I did all the sessions no one else wanted to do. There was this jazz record by Anthony Braxton and Muhal Richard Abrams [1976's Duets]; the other guys didn't want anything to do with it and I thought, "Wow, those are hardcore guys. I'll do that." It kept happening like that. I forget how The Isley Brothers found the studio, but it was a pleasure to work with them.
That was the record with "Footsteps in the Dark" on it, right? [Go For Your Guns]
Yeah, great song. There was a lot going on. When we were doing [NRBQ's 1978 album] At Yankee Stadium, I was recording Meat Loaf at the same time. I was still working for Bearsville; I was not independent. John Holbrook was the other engineer then. He was there before me, and I assisted him. With NRBQ, I guess we had hit it off on a couple of sessions we'd done, where I was assisting. I'd actually met them in 1969, when they appeared at the Duchess County Fair. Here come these guys, with the longest hair anyone had ever seen, pushing their car 'cause I guess they'd run out of gas. They played and blew everyone's minds. Eventually they moved to Saugerties, and we reconnected when I assisted on a session at Bearsville.
At Yankee Stadium is regarded as the distillation of what that classic NRBQ lineup was all about. Do remember much about doing that record?
We did intense bits, because they still had to work on the road. We'd be in there for a couple of weeks at a time, stretched out over a winter. I think most of that record is all live, and the only things that were overdubbed were things to help the production.
Do you remember if you guys were recording on 16-track?
I think it was 24-track by then, at 30 ips.
How did you get Joey Spampinato's bass sound?
In those days we spent a lot of time on the amp sound, more than I think people do nowadays. It was definitely a combo [of amp and direct signals], though... we were into the modern world! [laughs] Still it was very straightforward, with no equalizer, but compression going to tape for sure. I think we used the old dbx 160 with the meter.
Obviously, so much of the band's personality comes from inside the mind of Terry Adams, and his use of the Clavinet.
Yeah, that's his [Fender] Twin Reverb, with a couple of mics on it. Terry has the right sound coming out of it, so it was pretty easy to get. Trying to fit it into the mix was sometimes a little more difficult. Each note has so much texture — that's what I love about it. They were one of the few bands that I saw that had an amazing band balance on their own. Live, it was incredible.
A really great road band often mixes themselves.
Yeah, that was always impressive to me. I always tell people today, "Turn the PA off, and check out what you're doing."
Did NRBQ come as a finished product?
Well, the rhythm tracks fell in pretty easily. Sometimes we would spend a lot of time on the solos and the interesting arrangements. It was a bit of a search, on occasion. We took advantage of the studio there... using the bathrooms and the hallway to get different tones.
Do you remember how many mics you'd use on Tom Ardolino's drums?
I think, at that time, it was probably mic'ing the toms individually. Probably tight mics on them, then some [Neumann] U 87s overhead, X/Y [pair] or something like that. I don't think I used a hi-hat mic on Tom.
Do you remember what the other mics might've been?
Probably an [Electro-Voice] RE20 on the bass drum, [Shure] SM57 on the snare, and Sennheiser MD 421 on the toms.
What about Big Al Anderson's guitar rig? His slapback effect is pretty distinctive and got more pronounced as time went on. Do you remember what you used for that?
I think he had a Binson Echorec. On the '80s records, I probably used some modulated delay, maybe an Eventide Harmonizer. I do remember that on At Yankee Stadium, we used a custom digital delay made by Bearsville's chief engineer, Ted Rothstein — a homemade thing in a big box. It was really great. I wonder where that went?
When it came time to mix, was that something that the band was involved in? Or did they let you do your thing while they went off to play more shows?
Well, this was before automation. The "automation" would be us manually doing that, and then splicing [mix passes] to either achieve the final mix or fix mistakes. It's something I miss about modern production; that the mix was more like a performance, for better or for worse. All of us from that period agree that if automation could've been hiding, and popped out when you really needed it, it would've been great. There was too much to do, plus everybody wanted to be there. I can remember on Joey's tunes, maybe it would be Joey and I mixing them if they weren't complicated. But otherwise, it was all hands on deck for the various jobs.
There are three distinct lead voices on those records. Was there a particular mic that worked best for each singer?
I remember Joey, for some reason we liked him on an RE 20 a lot. For Al we used the forerunner of the 414 [AKG C 12A]. For Terry, I think we used a [Neumann] U 47.
So it was tailored for their specific tonal qualities?
Yeah, unless it was like a background part — then a lot of times it would be [everyone] around one mic.
People don't really learn to sing together anymore.
No, I agree. There's a real art to that. I think that for whatever might be "wrong" with that approach, in someone's mind, what you get out of it far exceeds that.
One of the things that I think you worked on is the band's "Captain Lou" theme song [from 1983's Tapdancin' Bats]. Did you ever have any run-ins with Captain Lou Albano [pro wrestler, manager and actor]?
When he came to do that session at Grog Kill [Carla Bley's New York studio], it was a riot. It was a hot day. He arrived with a gin and tonic, and the first person that he met coming up the stairs was Karen Mantler, Carla Bley's daughter, who was living at the studio. She didn't know who he was, but he gave her this great big hug and a kiss, and she was like, "Whoa, okay!" Then he proceeds to go downstairs to where the studio was. He was just a ball of fire, and once he got in the rhythm we had a tape going the whole time of just his nutty, stream-of-consciousness stuff. I remember editing on the clinks of the ice in his gin and tonic. We were cutting a dialogue track up on a two-track, and that's how we had to cut it. That came out great — I love that track.
It sounds like the sessions were an extension of the unpredictability of NRBQ's shows at the time. They knew they had the music part down. They could let anything happen.
Yeah, they loved being in the studio; they knew enough about production and other records — the Beatles and things that were going on with interesting sounds — to know that you could pursue extra stuff. So sonically, a lot of experimentation was happening.
Do you recall if Terry was the de facto producer of a lot of these sessions?
I'd say it was Terry and Joey, primarily. Everybody had a say as to whether or not a track was done, of course, but those two guys drove the whole thing.
Another record that I really, really love is the album with Skeeter Davis [1985's She Sings, They Play].
That was such a pleasure. She was such a great lady. There was a whole pep talk going into it, because Skeeter was religious and didn't really approve of foul language. We all agreed, "We're going to have to keep an eye on that." There was a lot of, "Oh, sugar," and, "Fiddlesticks." So I think it was later on the first day, Larry Packer came in to put violin on "Everybody Wants a Cowboy." He hits the microphone with his bow, and proceeds to let out a string of expletives. We can't help it; we all started laughing because we'd all been wanting to go crazy. But, yeah — a lot of great playing on that record.
The pedal steel is a very unique element for NRBQ — that was Buddy Emmons?
Yeah, he's a favorite of mine. I actually got his autograph. Skeeter's too! I couldn't help it. I said, "Look, I know this is silly, but can I have your autograph?" That's an overlooked record. I think it has some really beautiful performances.
You mentioned Carla Bley's Grog Kill Studio earlier. You've done as much work with her as anyone. Any reflections on that?
I enjoyed making all of those records. That was the most challenging work because her music is so complicated. We became really good friends, and we are still today, although I haven't made a record with her in a while. We made a lot of great records in the era before it was easy. Things like double 16-track decks. We were really crafty about working on these complex musical compositions with 11-piece bands. I remember her thing was knitting while I would mix. She would make entire garments over the course of the record!
There was some overlap between NRBQ and Carla's world. Terry played with her a bit, didn't he?
Yeah, he was on the European tour in '77, I think. There's a record they made of that. He went out and played a bunch of Europe dates — she was very well known in Europe. I did a tour with her in 1979 with an 11-piece band, and everyone sang.
You were doing front of house?
Yeah. It was the most challenging thing ever; it made me never want to do it again!
Are there any other projects that you're particularly proud of?
There're the Artie Traum albums that I'm co-producer on, and some of Robbie Dupree's later works. At my studio, there was a Jack DeJohnette/Don Alias video [1997's Talking Drummers]. They taped everything that we did. It was like reality TV for three days. But some of that I thought came out really good — it was basically a jam between those two. That was at a studio I had in West Shokan called the Make Believe Ballroom. It's some art studio now. We were open from '91 to 2006.
Was it the reality of the studio business that prompted you to get out of it?
Both. I got divorced, and the entire studio business was changing. Pro Tools was really taking hold, and suddenly a studio meant a laptop and an interface. I held on to the analog right until the end, making it affordable. We'd use the same piece of tape, record, and erase when we were done mixing, then move on.
What are you currently involved with?
Hudson Valley Recorders is what's left of my studio. I do location recording in the Hudson Valley area, where I live. I'm also on staff in the Electronic Music department at Bard College. I teach a Music Production class every spring.
How long have you been at Bard?
Since around 2007.
Is that satisfying for you?
Well, to be perfectly honest with you, no. I long for a lot of what went on in the earlier years, in terms of making records. But, on the other hand, I'm getting to work with the best of the new crop of musicians, some of whom will be really amazing one day. And the other thing is I'm in the Electronic Music department, and while I was aware of John Cage and some of the big guys, it's not a type of music I'd really thought about much.
So it's been educational for you, in that respect?
Well, yeah, it's like a whole new set of rules. While the prospect of recording local Kingston bands doesn't really appeal to me, Bard College has been a good thing by and large. The regularity of it is wild — I've never had a regular job. But for a "regular" job, it's certainly out there.
It doesn't sound like anyone else has contacted you about recording NRBQ, at least not recently.
No, we used to joke about this back in the day. Terry and I would be like, "When we do the interview, we'll be talking about how we got the sound," and it never quite happened...
I've only really become a fan of the band in the last two years, but they are my favorite records.
In 2017, one of my best friends, Craig Alvin [Tape Op#137], kept texting me about a record he was engineering. He was saying how amazing the process was, and how awesome the results were. The album turned out to be Kacey Musgraves'