Juliana Hatfield is an independent songwriter, musician, writer and artist who lives in Boston, Massachusetts. She has recorded well over a dozen albums, first with the Blake Babies and later as a solo artist, and has sung and played on records by other artists, ranging from Giant Sand to the Lemonheads to Aimee Mann. In addition to writing and arranging the songs, singing lead vocals and harmonies, playing guitar, bass and keyboard parts, Juliana produced or co- produced many of the records she has released. Juliana continues to write and record real, vital music with a unique voice and an old-fashioned, do-it-yourself work ethic. Juliana recently founded Ye Olde Records to put out her own recordings. Before setting off on a U.S. tour supporting the band X, Juliana was kind enough to sit down with me and talk about how she goes about producing records, including her album Made in China.
First I wanted to ask you about the different producers you've worked with, starting with the early Blake Babies records and Gary Smith, through people like Paul Kolderie [Tape Op #22], Sean Slade [#22] and Scott Litt [#81].
Well, Gary Smith was the first real producer we worked with in the Blake Babies and we learned so much about recording from working with him, just because we were so green. He was really a stickler for separating sounds and getting really clean, pristine sounding recordings — it was the '80s — so with him we experienced the bizarre tactic of recording cymbals separately from the rest of the drum set, which was bizarre for Freda [Love Smith, the Blake Babies' drummer] and bizarre to see. It was like, when she would record the drums she'd be pretending to play a cymbal on her leg and then they would overdub all of the high hats and the rides and crashes and everything. So, the recordings that Gary produced were really well produced, and it was good for us because we learned how to polish things and how to do something other than just a live, raw band performance. We learned how to focus on perfecting performances and stuff like that.
The first Blake Babies record you did at the old Fort Apache in Roxbury?
No, I never went there. I'm talking about Earwig and Sunburn. We did them at the Cambridge Fort Apache, after the studio moved there from Roxbury.
What about Nicely, Nicely?
That one we did on our own. That was like demos we did at the Boston Film and Video Foundation. We knew someone who worked there and he was able to get us cheap or free time late at night. It was just us like going in and playing. I don't even remember, so I can't tell you much about those sessions. It was in the middle of the night- I think I was half asleep.
What about Rosy Jack World?
That was done in different places, if I remember correctly. We did some of that in Indiana with Paul Mahern. I know we did "Nirvana" in Indiana, but I don't remember where we did the other songs. Paul worked on the first Some Girls record too, [Feel It] — he and Jake Smith worked on that together.
What about Paul Kolderie and Sean Slade?
From Paul and Sean I learned about the beauty of big rock and roll guitars. They mixed guitars really loudly and they weren't afraid to record really loud amplifiers. I think Gary was more afraid to push the volume. Sean and Paul were all about rock and roll, whereas Gary would be trying to shape and tame and mold and polish a band. Sean and Paul were more like capturing what makes them them. They recorded Dinosaur [Jr]. Other engineers probably kicked Dinosaur out of the studio for being so incredibly loud, but not Paul and Sean.
There's some funny stuff that Matt Ashare wrote about talking to Paul and Sean about recording the early Dinosaur records.
And they're just good for coming up with quick, sensible arrangement ideas, like putting a keyboard here or doubling a guitar part there — really good instincts about arranging.
Did you play keyboard parts on the stuff you did with Sean and Paul?
Yeah, on Only Everything I played all of the keyboard parts, I think. I played piano, clavichord, organ, yeah.
What about some of the different studios you've worked in, from Fort Apache to Q Division to Bearsville to Cherokee, and all the other studios you've worked in? Are there certain things you remember liking or disliking about the different studios? What really struck you as a good studio environment or vibe?
The Fort Apache on Camp Street in Cambridge always had a really good vibe, which is something that you can't really explain. You walk in and it has such a great feeling. The main room where the drums are recorded is such a good, warm-sounding room. And the vibe in that studio is so nice and welcoming, whereas some other studios, just the fact that you're confronted by a person at a desk asking who you are — that's sort of off-putting. With Fort Apache you could always just walk in, and that was one of the great things about it. And that was the thing about Dreamland in Woodstock — a house in a church. It was like walking into a house, and there was no official studio person asking for your credentials as you walked in. I think a homey atmosphere is really important.
What about some of the places you've worked in L.A. or New York?
Every studio has it's own positive attributes. These are some of the places I've worked: The Magic Shop, Sear Sound, Cherokee, Ocean Way in L.A., Wally Gagel's house [Bliss Recordings] — it's on Gold Stars.
For example, you said every studio has its own particular good elements. Can you think of any of them?
Well with Sear Sound, everyone was always telling me what a great, cool place it was and what great equipment they had and what a cool guy Walter Sear was — and it's true, they had a lot of cool equipment, but I didn't like the vibe in there. You had to go up a sort of creepy elevator, and something about the feng shui was off-putting. I did some of Only Everything there and it didn't feel comfortable to me. I think it's something about recording in New York City — some of the studios feel sort of cramped, and just going up an elevator to go to a cramped studio inhibits my freedom in my head. But there's something to be said for cool equipment. I don't want to badmouth Sear Sound. Ocean Way was impressive — they had a huge room and Scott Litt had his own little room in the back of Ocean Way called Louie's Clubhouse, and I had a really good time there. It was small but cozy. We recorded Become What You Are at Hollywood Sound.
What was it like working with Scott Litt?
Scott Litt was great. I just loved him as a person. He was so laid back and what he did, really, was just basically record the band the way we'd been playing live for a year. And if you listen to Become What You Are, there's really not a whole lot of extra flourishes or overdubs. It's really just some doubled guitars and some background vocals that were added and a couple of keyboards. Scott just kind of tightened the performances up and had us rehearse in the studio a lot and made sure we were tight, and then he recorded us.
What about Cherokee? Didn't you work with the Robb Brothers?
We did two Lemonheads records there. They were so entertaining, the Robb Brothers. They're just like these old school L.A. guys and they have a lot of stories and there were always freaky, interesting people coming into the studio like Rick James, and Lita Ford came in with her little laptop dog, it was a really bizarre L.A. scene. It was just like being entertained all the time. I was just playing bass and singing background vocals.
What about working with Wally Gagel?
Working with him was really different for me because there was no drummer and no bass player. We were building songs from nothing. I would come up with a guitar riff or little chord progression and then he'd put them in his computer, and then I would go home and he'd build sections and put stuff together with drum loops and with bass parts. So that was an interesting experiment for me to give the song over to the producer. That was a new thing for me. We ended up with a couple cool songs, but they definitely sound like studio creations.
What songs?
"Don't Rush Me" and "Cool Rock Boy". Beautiful Creature was a bunch of demos that I did with different people and I was experimenting with different recording techniques, and those two songs ended up on the record.
I remember hearing his drum loops and programming on some of that stuff and being really impressed by it.
Yeah, it is really impressive, but I don't know how well that stuff is going to age. Just like the whole drum loop aesthetic in the '90s, you know, pop songs with drum loops underneath, I don't think it's aging very well. If you listen to a Neil Young record, like After the Gold Rush, it just sounds so much more bright and fresh. It just pops out of the speakers because of the human element. I really think that drum loops should die. I like what I did with Wally but it was an experiment and I don't really want to do it again.
Were there things you picked up from guesting on other people's records, like working with Aimee Mann? Do you remember anything about how she approaches recording or tracking vocals and harmonies?
Well by the time I got there, most of the stuff was already recorded and I was just doing some background vocals. They had ideas for what they wanted me to do and I just kind of did 'em the way they wanted me to. I don't think I really learned anything from that, other than how awesome Aimee's songs are — but I already knew that. The Susannah Hoffs stuff was done with David Kahne and he was like a big producer. He's worked with everyone from Romeo Void to Sugar Ray to the Bangles to Sublime. He's done all these huge hit records. I really liked him. He's an interesting guy. He knows a lot about a lot of things. The Blake Babies demoed a couple of songs with him one time — he was interested in signing us at one time. John [Strohm, guitar] and Freda were really — David's recording technique kind of rubbed them the wrong way. Everything needed to be really perfect and polished. John and Freda thought he was a bit of a taskmaster, but I gave myself over to the experience — sometimes you want to just let yourself be guided by the hand that has a lot of experience, even though it might feel unnatural. Because it feels unnatural, it might draw something out of you that you didn't know was in you. I think some people find it uncomfortable to be pushed that hard, 'cause some people are used to just going by their instincts. But at the time I really enjoyed being pushed really hard and being pushed to sing harder and to sing better. I've reverted back to a really quick, fast, simple way of singing and recording, only doing like three or four vocal takes — but it's good to know there's another way to approach it if you feel like doing a more perfect performance.
How do you approach recording vocals on a session? Does it differ from record to record?
It differs a lot. With In Exile Deo I was working really hard on my vocals. I was doing vocal exercises for like two hours every day, just doing calisthenics to try to strengthen my voice. I worked really hard at getting everything right with my singing, with getting a lot of power and nuances and getting really polished, layered background vocals. All the lead vocals were comped from different takes. But that's just what I wanted for that particular album. With Made in China I just went in, sang through each song three times, and didn't comp at all. Just used the best one...
Like a whole take?
Yeah. Or maybe threw two of them on there together. And it was really fast and I just couldn't be bothered with perfection. Up until Made in China I always thought that my voice was really weak and I needed to be doing vocal exercises, the vocal exercises I learned at Berklee. I thought I needed to be doing them every day. But after the In Exile Deo tour I stopped doing my exercises and nothing really happened to my voice. It's still the same. I realized that I can slack off and I'm still getting the same sound from my voice.
You talked about your solo records a little bit. I was wondering how involved you were in terms of producing or co- producing, and what your role was, from Hey, Babe all the way up through Made in China. Did you become more involved in the production as time went by and you learned stuff from each record?
Yeah. We were so green in the beginning. We didn't really know what we were doing, which can be a good thing. But every producer I worked with until I started producing myself, I learned from. But I think every band that goes in the studio is co-producing. If you're an artist and you write your own songs and play them, you're not a puppet, you have ideas, and I consider them co-production. Scott Litt is named as producer on Become What You Are, but I feel like I had a hand in it too. From the beginning I had some kind of a vision, but I didn't always have the tools or the knowledge to get the vision down on tape. But I never had a fully formed vision, so that's why I worked with producers. They helped me bring my amorphous blob of a vision into focus. I first was named as a co-producer on Only Everything.
How did you start to become more of a co- producer?
I think I just demanded that they put my name on the record as a co-producer. That's really the only thing that changed. Paul and Sean were doing their thing and I was contributing my ideas and I was vetoing certain of their ideas and I was accepting or using some of their ideas and knowledge. And it wouldn't have sounded the way it did without them. I hired them for their rock and roll expertise and I really wanted a producer who knew how to record loud guitars well — that's what I was into then. But then Bed was when I first did it on my own.
What did you do exactly?
I just had to communicate the vision more clearly and I had to have a more clear vision, and I did. Part of the reason I started producing myself is I needed to start being careful with money, because Bed was the first record I made after I left Atlantic and I was paying for it myself. I really think that money or the lack of it dictates the sound, sometimes. So I went in there needing to do a really cheap record. I as a producer am cheap — I didn't have to pay myself. That's why I produced In Exile Deo — there wasn't enough money in the budget for a producer. With Bed I had this sound I wanted. I wanted a really, really dry record with little or no EQ on the drums or on anything. I just wanted it to sound really raw and really, really dry. I was really influenced by Verbena's first album, Souls for Sale. Somehow I interpreted that album as really dry, but it's not if you go back and listen to it. It's just really raw.
How would you define the role of the producer? What specific tasks does a producer do on a project?
The producer communicates to the engineer and that's helpful to me because sometimes I don't have the words or the language to communicate what I want. I could say, "I want the bass to sound like it does on Plastic Ono Band and I want the drums to sound like they do on 'Heartbeat' by Annie and I want the piano to sound like it does on..." Or I'll say, "I want the rhythm guitar to sound like it's in a long tunnel and I want the guitar solo to sound like it's coming out of a tin can." Like somehow that's the only way I know how to communicate. I think that's the producer's job. The producer's job is to communicate those sorts of things and then the engineer can figure out how to make it happen. But the producer also has to be a diplomat, has to know how to bring people together, and he also has to be kind of a cheerleader. Scott Litt was a really good cheerleader He was so positive. After a take he'd clap his hands together and say, "Gettin' it done!" It was really encouraging and kept the atmosphere positive. The producer also has to be a psychologist. If I'm getting insecure and starting to go back inside my shell and I'm having thoughts like, "Oh, I'm a terrible singer. I can't do this. I suck. I hate myself. I want to die. I'm quitting music." The producer will talk me out of self-doubt and remind me that I actually have skills.
I wanted to ask about how you go about making the Some Girls records with Heidi [Gluck] and Freda.
We all write songs on our own and we also collaborate. A lot of the songs were written with me and Freda sending pieces of ideas to each other.
And then how do you record those pieces?
Well, I record into my recording cassette Walkman or I do it on my 4-track cassette machine. And Freda does the same thing. It's pretty crude, but it works. It's all we need — it's just about the song. We aren't so into arranging stuff before we get together. Freda has a lot of clear, specific arrangement ideas in her head that come to fruition in the studio. She's got a vision for some of her songs. The way she records drums is pretty interesting. With the new record she recorded all of her drums standing up, because she's got arthritis in her back, which she thinks is from playing drums sitting down. And she was standing up without a bass drum, so she overdubbed the kick drum and some of the crashes, and it ended up sounding really cool. Like she would do a track of the basic drum beat, and then she would overdub the kick drum and then sometimes she likes to overdub fills. Not fills, but a track of flourishes and accents and we'll weave that track in and out of the mix. "On My Back" from Feel It has those overdubbed fills, and it's a really cool sound. Freda's got a unique sound. She has a concept.
What do you do for pre-production?
I don't really do pre-production these days — it's too costly. Pre-production is just making sure the song's written and these days that's what pre-production consists of for me, making sure the song's written and you have the studio time booked. And then you go in and we just play through the songs a few times. A lot of the arranging happens in the studio. It's just fixing what sounds awkward and what doesn't feel right.
Are you involved in mixing or post- production?
Yeah. I'm really illiterate when it comes to engineering, and I see a mixing board and all those knobs and buttons and it makes me think of school, science class. I just need an engineer to... I just need to know where all the tracks are. For each song I need to know where every track is.
So you can move the faders up and down?
Yeah. Or he's like a translator, if he's mixing on a computer he'll put all the stuff up for me and we'll listen through and I'll tell him what I want to change, what I want to come up and what I want to go down, and if I want an effect on something I'll tell him to put it on because I don't know how to do it.
I remember one time when you were working at Fort Apache, I saw those charts you make. What's on the charts and how do you use them? How do you make them and what are they for?
It's not just for the producer — it's for everybody. It was Jake's suggestion. You list down the left side the song title or the working title and then along the top you make a grid. There's a box for every instrument or every track: drums, bass, rhythm guitar, lead guitar, keyboards, percussion, whatever. And then you cross off the box as you finish the task. When the bass is all finished and mistakes are fixed you cross off the bass on the song. If you know you want to put organ on you can put organ on there. But if this song isn't going to have organ you block out that box for that song. And if this song does have organ you cross out the box when you do it. So you'll know, say you only did drums and bass on this song, you'll know what needs to be done on each song. It's just a way of charting your progress and then at the end of the session it's all blocked out or X'd out. And that's when you know you're done. It gives you an idea of how far you've come and how far you need to go and how much you're running out of time. Paul Kolderie does it too.
Do you generally follow traditional ways of going about making a record, like first you record the basics, then you overdub guitars, keyboards, vocals, etc.? Have you ever approached recording a song in a different way?
I'm pretty traditional. I mean, yeah, doing basics first seems to make sense. It's like giving you a base. Or else recording everything live is cool, then you get the whole picture of what you want.
Like Made in China was mostly live? Mostly, but some of it was overdubbed. I don't think we used any of the scratch vocals, and some of Joe's guitar solos were overdubbed, and we probably fixed some of the bass. But with the song I did myself, "Oh", the one I played all of the instruments on, I started with a drum track. I played drums to a click track, and then I added on from there. I did guitars and then bass. And I've done it a lot in the past with drummers. I've gone in a lot with just a drummer, just me and a drummer, on projects where I wanted to play a lot of the instruments. I would go in with the drummer and I'd play guitar and he'd play drums and then I'd add on from there.
Using that guitar as a reference point or scratch track?
Yeah.
You seem to wear a lot of hats in the studio: producer, guitarist, singer, arranger, pianist, songwriter, keyboard player. How do you switch between them?
I just do what needs to be done. It actually caused some problems on Only Everything because Dean Fisher was playing bass with me at the time, and on certain songs I knew exactly what I wanted the bass to do, and on certain occasions I thought it would be easier for me to just go and play it rather than explain it to him. This was the beginning of the end of our working relationship because it kind of rubbed Dean the wrong way. But sometimes I feel like if I know what needs to be done and I can do it myself I'll just do it, though I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. It's all in service to the song. Sometimes I feel lazy and I let other people take over. With Made in China I was feeling lazy and I didn't want to play much lead guitar, so I brought Joe [Keefe, from the Unbusted] in 'cause he's such a great guitarist, and I'd say, "Joe, play a solo there." And I would just listen and if I wanted to change it I would tell him what to do. You gotta bring in the right people if you know what you want and you can't do it yourself.
What prompted you to put out your own records as opposed to having been on Mammoth, Atlantic, Rounder or whatever?
I had a two record contract with Rounder/Zoe and after In Exile Deo the contract was done. And so I thought, okay, I can do what I always do, which is make a record and shop it around and wait for someone to get back to me and say they want to put it out, or I can just put it out myself. It just seems so simple and easy compared to having to deal with the whole process of sending it around and waiting for people to respond, and then waiting for them to fit it into their schedule. I just wanted to make the record I wanted to make and put it out when I wanted. And I had the freedom to do that because I was no longer under contract with any label.
And how do you like it? How's it working out?
It's pretty cool. I can do as little or as much work as I want promoting it, and I can spend as little or as much money as I want. It's like total freedom. It's really empowering running a label. There's no one telling me that my ideas aren't good ideas and there's no one suggesting anything stupid. Not that any of my labels ever did that.
