What started your musical journey as an immigrant kid in North Philly?
When I was about seven or eight, my older brother played me Dr. Dre's The Chronic and Nirvana's In Utero. When I heard In Utero, something connected with me. It was the first thing I heard that had any essence of hardcore or punk. What caught my ears was this harshness and a vulnerability that I hadn't heard from mainstream music. Soon, every time we'd go to Kmart I'd be bugging my mom for cassettes instead of toys and Nerf guns.
Is scouring cassette credits what led you to The Butcher Bros. and Studio 4?
Boyz II Men's Cooleyhighharmony was the first tape I bought with my own money. I thought it was cool that they were from Philly. Looking over the credits, I saw "Studio 4, Conshohocken, PA." and a year or so later Fugees' The Score had the Butcher Bros. names all over it. Then it was on to Cypress Hill and Kriss Kross. They all kept popping up with Studio 4 credits. I was paying attention to other records too, but at that age if a record was cut in L.A. or somewhere, it might as well be on Mars. Coming from a lower income family in a row home in Northeast Philly, I never thought I would see L.A. in my life.
But it didn't slow you down from pursuing music.
I had a rough time finding my place playing music. I started playing drums at ten, and dreamt of being a professional drummer, but my white friends at inner city schools wanted to look like Korn and the nu metal bands on TRL [Total Request Live], and I was a nerdy Asian kid. When I was twelve, my friend Dylan and I saved $100 and booked ourselves in a studio. Seeing an engineer run a session and control the way the music was made; I knew that's what I wanted to do. The studio was expanding, and I offered to work for free, even clean toilets, and they said I could run the rehearsal rooms for $5 an hour. This was awesome! Eventually, they sold me a mixer and helped install at my parents' house. I didn't realize it then, but I've always had an entrepreneurial way of looking at situations, and that was really the start of my "production business."
You saw a path forward as an engineer!
I could see myself making a living from this. "I can be an engineer." I set up a little studio in my mom's basement, and even though she didn't love it, she was very supportive. The first time I charged a band I was 16. I charged them $8 an hour.
Isn't that a lucky number?
[laughs] Yes, it's a lucky number in Chinese. Other local start up studios were charging $15 an hour, so it was, "I'll charge half." Again, it was my entrepreneurial spirit to invite bands I was booking at the rehearsal studio to record. Bands I loved, like Blacklisted, would come to the basement to record, and it taught me to push guys to play. To hit hard and sing hard. I got obsessed with studios and gear. I bought my first API 512 [preamp] for around $500.
In high school?
Yeah. From that point on I wanted to be an engineer and a producer, and my dream was to work at Studio 4. I'd ask myself, "What are the baby steps to get there?" There was an alternative radio station in South Philly [Y100], with a huge space where they recorded live sessions. I saved up $1000 to book a mastering session there, which was a TON of money. When the engineer pulled up the session, he couldn't believe that I had tracked it in a 13 x 13 tiled basement. The owner, Mike Comstock, heard that I was the "the hot shot kid," and had me assist him at the Electric Factory [venue] that night. It was my first professional gig. The band, The Fray, sound checked with the song "How to Save a Life." I was like, "This is gonna be the biggest thing in the world." And a month later, it was the biggest thing in the world.
It sounds like this dovetails into your decision to attend Temple University to meet Phil Nicolo.
Phil Nicolo teaching at Temple was the only reason I went there. I wanted a way into Studio 4. So, the second semester of my freshman year I took Phil's course and there was a long line at the of end class to talk to him. I wanted to make the final impression. I had The Fray record in my hand, and he said, "We have an open-door policy. Just come." I didn't know what that meant. Do I just actually just show up? That first day they were mixing a Brazilian band, and I stood at that door [points] for three hours, because I didn't think I deserved to sit. I stayed with them until 1 a.m., absorbing it all, and I thought, "Keep showing up and take out the trash." I've shown up every day since. It was a long journey, but I kind of willed it to happen and I'm grateful. I want aspiring kids to know that: When you're given the opportunity, show up. I had just gotten these Neumann TLM 103 mics; I suggested we used them for overhead mics. The band Keane, who were huge at that point, came in, and Phil needed an extra set of overheads, so he called me. It made me an asset to him, by being there and supporting him however I could.
Did this lead to your involvement with the Lauryn Hill comeback sessions?
