In 1983 I was working in a nice 'pro' 24-track two inch studio recording music that I would never actually buy myself, and then I heard R.E.M.'s Murmur. When I heard that some guy named Mitch Easter recorded it on a 16-track in his garage, I quit my well-paying gig and bought a Fostex 1/4" 8-track and started recording bands that I liked in my friend's garage. (Actually, Chronic Town was done in the garage, Murmur was done mostly at Reflection Sound, a 'pro' studio) My studio eventually grew quite a bit, and I later met Larry Crane, Tape Op's editor and founder when I produced a few records for his band, Vomit Launch. It was kind of full circle then when I was able to meet Mitch last summer at his Fidelitorium studio; the coolest studio I've ever set foot in. I had the chance to chat with Mitch for an hour or two, which was a privilege but I was told that someone else was doing the interview, so I was only there to shoot photos. Ted Comerford, an engineer who works with Mitch at the Fidelitorium, was super busy and got the interview done a day or two before this issue went to the printer, and it showed up with no intro, so I have the honor of writing this. I just finished editing the interview because Larry's in Mexico, and I found it as inspiring as the first time I heard Murmur. So read on, and hopefully you'll be equally inspired. --John Baccigaluppi
Why on Earth did you decided to become a producer/engineer?
Mitch: My dad came home with a little Sony tape recorder in about '63 and I was entranced by it. Soon I was putting paper over the erase head for "overdubbing", running the tape backwards, etc. Despite what you can do with a computer nothing will probably ever be as much fun for me as these rude 'n' crude techniques.
When did you decide to do it as a 'career'?
I was alarmed by the fact that when I graduated from high school I couldn't just seamlessly slide into my proposed Rock Star career- nothing was going on. But a year or so earlier, Chris Stamey had bought one of the first Teac 2340s, which was a 1/4" 4-track with sync, so you could overdub. A breakthrough machine-installed in my basement, it allowed us brash teens to try to make records as opposed to just play in a band. It was really satisfying to build up a song with overdubs and I think what I understand about how all this stuff works came from the Teac Era, mostly. Naturally I thought the truly unlistenable results we got were pretty fine, and only lacked more tracks to be right up there with the heavy greats of the time. So during college I was trying to figure out a way to get some kind of studio going. The okay results we were getting on the Teac by this time (mainly due to the addition of the fabulous Tapco mixer, which had EQ!) convinced me that I might be able to avoid getting a real job if I got some kind of rock band-oriented place going. The notion of "producer" never occurred to me. I just wanted to record myself and also record other people to justify getting better equipment. I guess this was in '77, when I graduated from college. This was an exciting time in recording- megalith records were giving way to punk rock and quickie sessions as championed by people like Nick Lowe- you listened to those things and it seemed like fun as opposed to work. The words were better, it was more about guitars and there was a complete absence of mellow electric pianos! It seemed possible to "rock" again without being a total dumbass. Nothing against dumbass rock, but at the time I was more intrigued, recording-wise, with what would quickly become labeled "quirky". (Ugh.) Also, David Bowie's Low had come out around '76 or '77 and that record is still one of my all-time faves for its boldly odd sound and its attitude of "departure". I was always more interested in "messing around" than "perfecting"- these records suggested you could do that and people would listen to it. All inspiring to me as I contemplated my version of being in The Biz. Of course nowadays, the spectre of Total Perfection is more suffocating than ever, with equipment that pushes things ever more in that direction. Even if you're working in the "funny noises" department, I'm still struggling with the lengthy time frame that is standard for a commercial release. The emerging standards of the late 70's and early 80's looked good to me, though, so I actually tried to go for it. After a few false starts, the Drive-in studio got going in July of 1980, so I suppose that indicated that I had a "career."
Here's the obvious part of interviews that you will never escape: REM's Murmur is one the finest and timeless records ever made and there are a million interviews and books out there for those who are interested. However none that I have read cover production specifics. (Most likely because no one cares except people like me, you know, the nerds and geeks who read recording magazines.) For instance how did you get the amazing snare sound on "Radio Free Europe?"
Bill really wanted to play in the drum booth at Reflection. They had the definitive '70s booth down there which we affectionately called "The Tiki Hut"- a little sorta' octagonal thing with a lot of glass and a cedar shake pointy roof. It was pretty small and we had trouble with the hi-hat just consuming the entire drum sound. We were doing stuff like Dolby A decoding the bass drum track (which was not encoded) to get a sort of expander effect to get hi-hat racket out of the bass drum. This has always mystified me- I mean, the hi- hat didn't seem that loud, but I guess it just filled the Hut. Anyway, because of that we just couldn't get any kind of decent sound out of the snare drum on "Radio Free Europe." So one night, just out of exasperation, we played another snare drum by itself to add in for more clarity. I hit the drum and [Don] Dixon punched me in. We mic'd it from up high, like maybe 15' away or so, and compressed it. The room at Reflection and that distance gave it that sort of nice fake sound.
What console was Murmur recorded and mixed on?
An MCI 600. I always liked that thing- it got hot- always the indication of the best gear. Reflection had a really snazzy one with the fabulous "Plasma" meters and automation. We never used the automation, though. We did sometimes use the grouping function, and then just mixed manually from there. A song or two on Murmur were left over from earlier sessions in my garage, so that would have been the Quantum QM-12 + 8EX.
I have heard you mention in other interviews that REM were a little apprehensive about production from their nightmare sessions with Stephen Hague. How did you and Dixon convince them to try some of the more exciting production ideas on the record?
Well, it was a shame that the band's brush with the big boys was so horrific, or maybe not, actually. The band was probably wise to be wary of "Producers", since producers are likely to be working more for The Man than the band and their ideas might be really tacky. We had great fun doing Chronic Town and the more I suggested tape loops or whatever the more they dug it. When we started Murmur the band had become utterly conservative because of the horror of synthesizers being wantonly applied to their sound by the producer IRS wanted to use. (R.E.M. were completely anti-synth at the time.) Also, they had been required to do like a million takes at the big time session and it had shaken Bill's confidence, I think. All that standard-issue studio crap was inappropriate for R.E.M. We (Don Dixon & I) had to show them that we were paying attention to their aesthetic sense instead of imposing something on them. Despite generally gaining their confidence, there was a wonderful showdown where Dixon had to let them have it after their grumpy comments about "Perfect Circle." We had to be so dainty with modifications to their live sound that it was kind of stifling. Dixon and I both felt like a mere "recording" wasn't enough to make a "record" and so when our sympathetic, subtle, and genius production touches were dissed one too many times, Dixon wisely announced to the band, "Don't blame me when nobody buys your DEMO TAPE!" I have no idea what effect on the band's thinking this produced, but it does need to be said sometimes. I think the vibe of great wariness made us do a lot of "producing" when the band was out of the building!
I have noticed that you didn't get performing credits on either Murmur or Reckoning; you did play some guitar on those, correct?
The bits and pieces Dixon and I played were just for convenience, or when we'd think of something when nobody else was around. Both of us were able to think in those kind of mechanical terms, like- "drag it a little when it goes to A"- so it was quick and easy. There was never anything like bringing in the "session guy"- we liked the band and how they played. Dixon played bass on "Perfect Circle" because we did a bunch of stuff on that one by ourselves and we wanted to hear a bass part. I think Peter Buck usually played bass on "Perfect Circle" but he liked Dixon's part just fine and it stayed on. I played the backwards guitar on that song, Bill and Mike played pianos, Michael sang, and I think everybody played acoustic on the chorus, campfire-style. This was all fun and I had no concern at all about credits. That was the attitude throughout- I mean it's still their record no matter what.
I agree completely, sometimes it simply takes too long to translate per- formance ideas. Often I find myself grabbing a guitar and guiding musicians through their parts. Do you enjoy, as a producer, per- forming on artists records?
Absolutely- if it's okay with the band I can usually add some color really fast and it helps us all stay interested. I think I can usually think of parts that are economical and make the song sound more "like a record". As much as I admire no-overdubs kind of productions, I never feel like it's quite all there when I try to do that. Like with Murmur- the band's sound was great, but that one extra thing, to me, could make all the difference. I especially like those "what is that" kind of additions.
Is there ever a point when you have had to fire a band member or hire a session guy to fill their shoes?
Nowadays I'm ready to do some firing. Looking back at stuff I did years ago I sometimes regret taking that "friends with the band" stance because the thing that lives on is the recording, and you really should do what you can to make it stand up. On the other hand, the whole feel of the ultrapro sessions still grosses me out- there are so many examples of that third album where the band is down to one or two original members and they're using the awesome rhythm section of the day and it just sucks and is completely unlikeable. If recording pop music has to be like that, I'd rather pump gas! You need to figure out what the band is about. You can always find some idiot who to this day thinks the Beatles would've been okay if they'd had Neil Peart on drums, or recorded on Pro Tools, etc., and of course those records are perfect as they are (misguided CD remixes excepted!). And, sure, sometimes the bass player or whoever has to go. I suppose I'm a lingering softie in this area, but my ability to listen to bad playing is about used up. But it's all about context- "bad" in one band is "fantastic" in another. I mean you cannot improve upon the Troggs, and they were not exactly hotshots. I did a record with a band around 1990 where we ended up doing the drums on a computer after much pain all around. Everything about that was awful- from suffering through the initial bad takes right on through telling the drummer "you must hear that this is just not good enough..." and I hope to never repeat it! At least in that case the drummer actually enjoyed working his parts up on the machine and the record turned out okay, but this whole firing business has to get sorted out before you set foot in the studio. It seems lame for a band to not figure this out on their own, but sometimes the alliances that make up the band outweigh what you gain by using a better player. I suppose that notion has no place in today's ultracommercial, hits-only world, though.
What records are you most proud of?
I can't really answer that without some kind of list in front of me, sorry. In general, upon completing something I am still worrying about it, then about 5 years later I can hear it and think "Hey, that's all right!" At the time I usually liked the Game Theory and Loud Family ones because they were so varied and usually had several good songs.
You have worked with many heavy hitters in the industry, John Leckie, Scott Litt, John Hampton, etc. What Producer/Engineers out there inspire you these days?
Well, just when I think I've figured out how to do this stuff, I hear some record that just freaks me out. Everything that Flood works on sounds great, for example, but so do those Motley Crue records, you know? The level of craft nowadays is impressive, and as usual I must cite my inability to compile lists to explain my reluctance to answer this. If you played me a bunch of tracks, I could make pithy comments. I also have an overall comment that almost everything is too bright and too compressed and has too much ultrasheen on it these days. So you've got all these "killer" sounds going on now but somehow all '70s records still kick ass in this superior gutsy way. And they were made using the standard console preamps, a couple of 1176s and crummy Belden wire. So I kinda think everybody is trying too hard now. There is certainly too much emphasis on gear. Of course using a bunch of esoteric garbage is part of the showbiz of impressing artists, labels, and peers, so I understand how we've gotten to this state of affairs.
How do you feel about others mixing your recordings?
I am all for it in theory. Sometimes I've been disappointed- in one case the highly popular awesome mixer dude just made the vocal and snare too loud and put the usual tiresome compression on the whole thing. For that I am sure he was paid drastically more than I was for making the record. That is an example of how using The Mixer has become a sort of business cliché and a waste of money. But I'm sure it works out well most of the time. It is stupid how there are always like 3 guys who mix everything.
You did some sessions with Wilco which eventually saw the light of day on Summerteeth. What was it like working with them?
My favorite thing is working fast, I think, so the Wilco thing was perfect- they were still on tour and just stopped in to see what would happen in a couple of days. Those songs were done in the previous studio setup in the house, so we had drums upstairs, Jeff singing and playing in the front hall, and I don't even remember where everybody else was. A lot of what was played live was kept, and they were playing great. The live vocals were great fun, and we were using goofy dynamic mics which immediately sounded interesting. The tour bus was parked in the driveway with that little secondary diesel motor running all the time (of course) so we were breathing a special toxic atmosphere and we had the services of the entire road crew. This meant that guitars were constantly being whisked away for retuning and I only had to contemplate moving a microphone and somebody would run and do it for me. Posh! Nice guys, and I dug the jams.
From my first listen of Summerteeth I could tell that you recorded "Nothing's Gonna Stand in our Way Again." However many of your records sound completely different sonically from one another. How do you feel about classifying the 'Mitch Easter' sound as producer?
I never think about it, but I like what I like, so over time I'm sure "tendencies" can be observed. I suppose I like "color". I wish I could pull off something that sounds like "Sweet Leaf," but I have not attained that mastery yet. Mainly I am not a purist; formalist notions can be fun but after one song of "no reverb" or whatever I am bored and am ready to slather the next track in the most egregious 1984 "Inverse Room" ever. I think I like essentially organic sounds with the freedom to apply some low- tech electronics if it's called for. Most interesting to me lately are dinky sounds that work- like when you can get a track to rock with tiny, dull drums. Ha! If you have a good song you can do about anything if nobody stops you and it will work, but sadly these conditions rarely occur together.
The Fidelitorium records almost exclusively to analog machines. How many do you own? Any plans for a Pro Tools or Radar set up in the future?
The studio has three 24-tracks, two 16-tracks, three 4-tracks and four 2-tracks. And there's a new ancient 3M about to get revved up. This is pathetic but I'm in too deep now. As for Radar, Pro Tools, etc.- not yet. Nobody is demanding it, and people who want to work that way sometimes bring in their own stuff. I enjoy using my AKAI hard disk devices but the tape machine is still fastest and least in the way. I am more interested in running a modern sequencer alongside the recorder for loopy stuff and extra tracks than changing the storage method. I realize the shift to non-lin can mean a shift in how songs are composed and the advantages are obvious, but another part of me thinks people should write their songs before the session starts. I also resist the compulsive bitsy repairing that seems to creep into computer sessions. Anyway, the reptilian part of my brain knows there's a session going on when it detects the smell of hot tape and I would really miss that if the analog machines went. Disk drives don't seem to emit any interesting odors.
Why did you build The Fidelitorium?
The studio started in a garage, then moved to my house. Neither of these locations was meant to be permanent, and although the house could get some good sounds, it was hell co-existing with the chaos of a studio. After one particularly gross session I knew I had to build a dedicated building despite not being too sure there was a way to pay for it. I conceived a sort of funky concrete block muffler shop kind of place- I was thinking of the picture of "Cinderella" on the back cover of the Area Code 615 record. I took my sketch-on-a-napkin kind of thing to Wes Lachot for his comments- Wes had always been an architecture and acoustics enthusiast and I was impressed with the sound of his place (Overdub Lane). Instead of just comments, he got deeply involved and generated actual blueprints. What he came up with was instantly "right"- and what we built was close to his original plan. I figured after nearly 20 years it was time for a "real" place. Also I wanted it to be suitable for outside producers to set up shop in for extended periods. So it has a kitchen and a patio and space to move around in. But it's still a kind of "project studio"- just a big and solid one.
How long was it in the works before you broke ground?
About a year of planning and getting permits, then about a year of construction, including all the various delays. It opened in May, 1999.
The thing I love the most about The Fidelitorium is the abundance of instruments. I have worked at many studios that take the philosophy of bands have there own gear, why would they want to use our guitars?. How do you make your decisions on the music gear vs. recording gear battle, as a studio owner?
As a compulsive shopper of this sort of equipment, I just alternate between "instrument" and "recording" phases. The wonderful justification is that "people will use it in the studio"! There's probably way more bang for the buck with instruments. I'm trying to buy recording stuff that I know will make a difference, which right now means installing Flying Faders, which I hope to do in 2001. We are also refurbishing the console which is a serious but worthy investment. But I see no need to have 14 kinds of mic preamps, for example. Since I still vaguely play, I keep buying guitars and amps, and these are available to the sessions. Probably the best instruments to have on hand are unusual ones or ones that are half broken and too irritating to use outside the sympathetic walls of the studio. So we maintain a solid inventory of questionable items and they get a lot of use. The range of amps is often an eye-opener to players who have been swindled by music stores. I have seen more than a few guitar players ditch their own million-knob units after working here.
We have talked about having a sug- gested listening list for the Fidelitorium. What are some records that come to mind?
This could be another article- and possibly worth the effort. For now I'd say the way I'd like to listen to records with prospective Recording Artistes would be first to hear some records they like and find out what they like about them. You could determine how studio savvy they were in that way- I mean I'd note whether they were saying "this ROCKS" vs. "it sounds like there's a vocoder on the snare" and from that I could sort of determine the nerd/tech level and thereby figure out the right session vocabulary. This would be a good time to note incredibly common problems like people who cannot possibly sound like their heroes and explain to them why this is so and besides, they (the heroes) are already doing it... Furthermore, if a band is prissy in any way I feel compelled to assault that at every opportunity. In the '80s there was this "heavy metal" dread which was just so stupid and it made me constantly describe sounds in terms of "Sabbath" or "Priest"- I think I was correct in trying to get the worried musicians to loosen up and stop being so precious. Any good rock record is kind of robust and should stand up to being played right next to anything else. So any such list probably should be constructed to be therapeutic for the band- a way to get people to realize that all sorts of sounds can work. Singer- songwriters would need a lot of metal, metal guys would need Nick Drake, etc. If you had the time for listening sessions like that, I think everybody would really be ready to go when you got to the studio.
What would be your advice for up and coming artists who are preparing to record an album?
The listening advice could be good for anybody, but the fresh-faced debutantes probably need to focus on nuts and bolts stuff so they don't get hung up and freaked out. I always suggest home tapes and demos so people know what they really sound like. The big-time studio can't really give them abilities they don't have, even now, so they should figure out that the singer really can't hit that note to avoid embarrassment under the huge illuminated "RECORDING" light. The thing people really waste time on is backing vocals. They are boring to record even when people have it together and I can't tell you how often I've sat through people trying to work them up in the studio. There seems to be a perception that you can just toss them on as an afterthought and that is so not true. Backing parts almost always have to be precise rhythmically and in tune, whereas lead vocals have way more latitude. Except "football cheer" parts, which I haven't encountered lately. Also get your damn guitars intonated and restrung beforehand, and get new toms heads, at least. The bass drum and snare don't matter as much. If you want to use a click track, don't make your world debut with it in the studio! The results will almost certainly be terrible- playing to a click is a whole new territory which takes getting used to. And most important- be realistic about how much can be achieved. Non-veteran bands almost always think it's a good idea to record some extra tracks for later while they're at it, and wind up compromising the whole project by spreading themselves too thin.
Tell me a little about recording Shalini's new record We Want Jelly Donuts.
The Shalini disk was produced in the noble tradition of the Early '80s Indie Record- it was done in about a week total, here and there. "Telepathic World" and "Emotion Bomb" were demos we deemed "just fine" to stick on the record; "Conviction Overturned," "Creepy Emily" and "Around the Eyes" were recorded on a 3M M23 4 track- we copied that over to the 24 track and added drums and various overdubs right before we played at SXSW last spring. The other songs were done around that time, too. It was Shalini with Eric Marshall on drums and me on guitars and some other bits. At the last minute before mixing some of them we slapped on some synth stuff with the mighty monophonic Korg which seemed right even though there is no attempt to replicate that in the thunderous live act.
Is it different having someone else interpret your material?
I never thought I wrote anything that was universal enough to be coverable, but actually the songs of mine that Shalini did turned out pretty well, I thought. It was her idea to do them- when she suggested it I thought, "really"? But I probably wouldn't ever have done anything with these songs, and now they are familiar to dozens of people around the globe, a stirring thought indeed!
How did you feel about the Smash Mouth cover of "Every Word Means No?"
Well, it just totally rocks, you know? I must thank the band and Karen Glauber, whose idea it was. Our (Let's Active) version was really and truly a demo, so I appreciate somebody doing a real version! I've yet to hear it in the actual TV setting, which is probably the way to get the full experience.
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