Iâd met engineer/musician Toshi Kasai and Melvins drummer Dale Crover when they spotted me at a NAMM Show years ago. We had a blast chatting, and while editing the Melvins' interview for this issue I realized Iâd better get Toshiâs perspective on his long collaboration with the band and his studio that they share, Sound of Sirens.
You were born in Japan. How did you end up in the U.S. running a studio?
I came here in â97 and went to a recording school called Los Angeles Recording Workshop. Now itâs Los Angeles Recording School. I became good friends with their office guys there, and they sent me a bunch of internships at a few studios and smaller record labels. I worked at the school too a little bit as a tutor and then a substitute teacher. That was cool, because I had more pressure to know everything. Then I ended up at a studio called Hook [Sound Studios] for seven years. I met a bunch of bands there.
Hookâs not around anymore?
Yeah, they closed in 2005. We didnât have Pro Tools, so we lost clients.
You were a house engineer?
House engineer or chief engineer. I was pretty much by myself. There was a voiceover room, but the engineer there didnât work with me; he did his own thing. I had an assistant later, the last couple of years. I did everything, from producing to being a runner. Hook was a smaller studio, started by Michael Omartian, whoâd produced Michael Bolton and Christopher Cross. He built the studio, and then my old boss, Mike Frenchik, took over. I worked with big names and big-time producer/engineers. Hook had an excellent microphone collection.
What techniques did you pick up from other engineers working there?
I was focused on producing techniques more than engineering. I was hugely influenced by Mark Endert; heâd recorded Fiona Apple, Madonna, and Vertical Horizon. He was one of the biggest clients and an amazing engineer. But with producing, I learned a lot. Itâs more about people connections than technique. Making the musicians feel comfortable and allowing them to feel freedom during the creative process. Itâs, âHey, this is an idea. Why donât you try this?â I learned from both sides. Good producers and bad producers. That was an amazing experience at the studios.
To see different people working and producing has got to be invaluable.
Yes. For example, when I worked with Eddie Kramer [Tape Op#24], I was very inspired by not only his recording technique but also his enthusiasm and concentration towards the project. At that time, he was 62 years old, and he was running around the studio to find the best wah pedal for a guitar part on a song.
Meeting the Melvins happened after working with Tool?
Tool came for guitar and bass overdubs. That was a great experience. Then Tool introduced me to the Melvins. Thatâs how I met those guys, when the Melvins came into the studio. Toolâs guitar player, Adam Jones, I owe him so much. He introduced me to so many bands. Danny Carey [drums], too. Then the Melvins introduced me to thousands of people, including the Big Business guys. I learned the attitude of being a musician. Musicians are some of the most eccentric characters to deal with. In the studio, I learned to pick up on what they want and need to musically express themselves. In those seven years at Hook I gained confidence with this. I think that helped a lot.
Once you worked with the Melvins you guys hit it off. What was it about them and their music and the personalities that works between all you guys?
At that time, they were a three-piece, with Kevin [Rutmanis, bass], Dale [Crover, drums], and Buzz [Osborne, guitar/vocals]. Those guys arenât afraid to be different. That attitude totally mirrored my idea of making music. The Melvins like the music I enjoy. Working for other mainstream, bigger people, I donât know how many times I wanted to quit. I was in my late 20s or 30s and Iâd have to run for 21-year-old kids. âWhy am I doing this?â Then the Melvins showed up and it was like, âThis is it!â I didnât ask them, âHey, can I keep working?â It happened. Dale and I are pretty close, so we started hanging out. The same thing happened with Tool. Adam lives pretty close to my apartment where I used to live. He invited me over, and then I got to know them.
Successful collaborations in the studio arenât only focused on the act of recording. There has to be a larger shared interest.
Yeah. Thatâs true. Some people say, âDonât work with friends.â I understand thatâs something that can happen, especially with money. Thatâs a thing. I donât have the mentality to not hang out with a client. I understand that, but itâs not to me. I want to make them a success.
Right. If someoneâs coming to you and you like the music and you enjoy them as people, you do want to work a little harder.
Yeah, for sure. Sometimes I donât want to quit. âThis is too good. I want to mix forever.â
What were the years like between quitting Hook and starting up Sound of Sirens studio?
I used commercial studios. We used to go to a studio in Hollywood called Westbeach Recorders. When Hook closed down, Westbeach wanted to buy their console. Thatâs how I met them. My old roommate used to work at Entourage Studios in North Hollywood. Those are the main two studios I used to use. Westbeach had a Trident; they only had one room, but [were equipped with] decent microphones.
What jobs were coming your way, at that point?
Bands that were influenced by the Melvins. I enjoy producing new bands; to give them a guide. The first period after I became a freelancer was hard, because everybody wanted to be the Melvins. Iâm not only into heavy music; I like music that pushes existing boundaries and genre definitions. I recorded a band called Tweak Bird; they have two brothers [Caleb and Ashton Bird] with strong vocals. People started getting that my forte is not only heavy, but weird and harmonized pop. For the last 12 years Iâve been fortunate. My studio has such a high demand that they come to me from all over the world, like Poland, Italy, and Germany. I have also traveled to other countries to produce, such as Australia, Mexico, and Canada.
What year did you guys put together Sound of Sirens studio?
I found it by myself almost eight years ago. It was just one warehouse. A year later, the Melvins decided to move in. Buzz said, âIâm going to record with you anyway. Can we share?â Thatâs how we started, and he helped finance making the walls and more.
How does that work, as far as sharing time?
Buzz is easy, man. Buzz is always ahead. At least six months before, heâs going to start talking about it, âHey, I want to record next winter.â So, I wonât book anything around then. The only thing is that rehearsal time; we have to schedule a little bit. During the summer theyâre gone and I donât need to worry about a schedule conflict. Buzz has never told me, âHey, book us next week.â If I book something, he says, âOkay, weâve gotta wait.â Itâs been really good. They leave their gear. Theyâll leave drums, and Dale doesnât care if Iâm using them. Change the heads and make sure a rough drummerâs not going to play.
Donât break emâ.
Yeah, donât break! There are some off-limit instruments, but usually itâs fine.
The studioâs based around tracking into digital, right?
Yeah, thereâs no room for the tape. Itâs a tiny studio. I wish. Someday.
Do you have a console?
The console is a Yamaha PM-1000.
Oh, right! Thatâs the legendary âthey looked at the Neve and tried to copy itâ console.
My friend, Avedis [Kifedjian Tape Op#132], looked up the schematics, and he said, âOh, this is good.â I trust him; he used to fix our gear at Hook, and I have his mic pres. Those are sweet. He told me what to buy and what to not buy. âThis is not right. This is a copy.â Being in L.A. is amazing to me; to get the connections.
Was it a lot of work to build up a mic collection?
Absolutely. After working at Hook and handling mics like a Telefunken [ELA M] 251, as well as the Neumann U 47 and M 49, building my own collection was slow. Iâm always looking for the perfect sound. I have many dream microphones!
You have a wish list?
Oh, yeah; totally. Then mics I mentioned from Hook, because I got to experience the quality. Also, the Sony C-800G and the Neumann U 67.
Well, you have enough to get the work done.
Oh, yes. The guys from Heil Microphones have been nice to me [Bob Heil, Tape Op#67]. Theyâre great microphones. Then we used to have a connection to Shure, so I have a few good Shure mics too. The ribbon mics â the red one, the KSM313 â are amazing microphones.
What is your room like there? The drum sounds have a nice ambience in your recordings.
The ceiling is high. I put the two room mics really high. Itâs not super dead. Itâs a warehouse, so if you take the material off the walls itâs pretty live.
Is it an open space? Do you have a control room?
I do have a control room. Before the Melvins I didnât for a year and a half, and then I built one because I didnât want to wear headphones. My ears get tired.
I agree. Where did the studioâs name come from?
When I became freelance, Iâd go to a big studio and sometimes we didnât finish, so weâd overdub at the Melvinsâ rehearsal studio. Every time I tried to record sirens came by, so I was joking, âListen to the sound of the sirens.â Thatâs how we named the studio. I donât hear sirens hereâŚ
I know from the interview with the Melvins that thereâs a cubbyhole area where you have a bass amp and a guitar cabinet for isolation.
Thatâs the very first thing I built, a box so I donât need to hear the guitar sound too loud. Then we made the control room.
Does work find you via email?
I have a website. Usually itâs friends of friends and word of mouth. From time to time, I get it through email.
People see your name on albums?
Yeah. It takes three or four years to recognize, like, âHey, I heard the album.â That was a long time ago! But I wonât complain. I have to do Instagram and that kind of thing to say, âI worked on this and produced it.â Self-promoting.
Our careers get work by association. With Tool, the Melvins, and bands like that, people are very curious about who theyâve worked with.
True. I have been fortunate with clients coming from those sources.
I listened through your catalog and could hear certain aesthetic decisions, such as stereo guitars and very defined drums, yet with depth and room.
Thank you! Thatâs what Iâm focused on. Somebody recognizes it. I want to feel like the audience feels like when watching Stanley Kubrick movies. You can feel space.
Plan Danalog synthesizer processed drum project
I had a Sequential Circuits Pro One [synth] with a step sequencer and I knew it stepped via the gate. I thought maybe I could use audio as a gate. It worked! The Pro Oneâs limited, but in 2015 Moog introduced the Mother-32 with 64 sequence patterns you can save. It also has MIDI in, so itâs way more accurate. It takes a long time to write one song. Writing melody takes at least four days. I record the drums first and give them an idea what mood I want. The concept of the album is a treasure hunting movie; a Ray Harryhausen vibe, with science fiction monsters. My writing is thinking about scenes and dark moods. Iâm working on it now. In 2008 Dale Crover and Troy Zeigler â those close friends and I â started doing this. Daleâs name helped in leading to other drummers. The biggest name is Clem Burke [Blondie]. I asked Dave Lombardo and then John Tempesta. Those people were so excited. âWhat is this?â But I still have to finish it. www.joyfulnoiserecordings.com
Depth of field?
Yeah. Iâm not using a drum machine. Sometimes I hate a heavy guitar because it takes up so much space. Itâs a constant fight. I love and hate it.
Do you think a way for making space is doubling guitar and panning left and right to keep the center open for vocals, kick, and snare?
That too, but it all depends on the music and songs. I can end up really spacey. I always like when I go left side and then go right side and it sounds so different; itâs an amazing ear candy or illusion. I always want to entertain with my engineering somehow. I like the drums in one side sometimes too; a â60s mix. But usually I end up with, âOh, this is the most balanced and cool.â
You played live with the Melvins and Big Business. When we step in as a musician, I feel we bring that back to producing and engineering other people. I think itâs healthy.
Yeah! You can see the other side too, of what musicians think. Iâve worked a lot with the guy from Helmet, Page Hamilton. He always said, âYou have a music background, so itâs easy to work with you.â I didnât think about that. Some engineers just do engineering. Some producers just do producing. Musicians are some of the most creative people to work with. Being technical is one thing, but to me itâs more about communication.
Everybodyâs at a vulnerable point. We have to figure out how to best proceed.
Yeah, sometimes itâs still happening. A new band comes in, and Iâll say, âWhy donât you punch in?â âWhat do you mean, you donât like it?â âNo, I love it, but you can do better! You can execute better. Thatâs a great idea!â Some people are super insecure. Youâve gotta be careful. The Melvins guys are confident. âHey, do it again.â âOkay, letâs do it.â
In their interview they say they know how to read you and what it means when you say, âMmm, it was okay.â Then they say, âOkay, do it again. Right?â
Yeah, thatâs funny. They always say that. Itâs true, that means, âNo!â
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'