Try to write about Scott Solter and you will struggle. You will have numerous conversations with the man. Those conversations will span a number of years. You will talk about tape machines. You will talk about Christopher Hitchens and Tchad Blake [Tape Op #16], Noam Chomsky and Jay-Z. You will talk about idealistic San Francisco and pastoral North Carolina. You will pelt the guy with 10,000 questions in the name of Tape Op. The how, the when, the who and the all-important why. You will know what to write, only to find yourself writing utter trash. Finally, when all else has failed, you will heed the very words of your subject. He of the expansive mind, he of the subverted machine, he of the composition turned inside out, its cellular structure violently altered, its guts left in a pile, its soul glistening clean from your earlobes. His words? Work by parameters. They are your only hope. So you delete thousands of old words and set out to chunk what's left — the raw content — into chapters. You do it in hopes that Solter — he of the prescription, he of the construct — would approve.
Chapter 1
Impulses Are Good. They Tell You What Not To Do
Scott develops what he calls "prescriptions" for his projects. He describes them like this: "They're ways of getting into a piece without the confusion of too many choices. The approach can be as literal as limiting the types of equipment or selecting certain colors and images to get at a theme. This really started when John Vanderslice asked me to remix his Cellar Door record, which became MGM Endings. I simply needed a way of approaching each piece without becoming consumed with too many "what ifs." Around this time I felt like I was just shooting from the hip and repeating weaknesses I wanted to move away from. For me, the only way to do that was to move against my impulses. I decided on prescription #1: if it seems strange, keep doing it. It was a healthy change. Pulling up faders can lead you anywhere, so what if you only allow yourself to pull up two and execute every possible manipulation before advancing on the remaining faders?" I ask Scott if such a deliberate approach blurs the lines between "engineer" and "producer." He responds that it doesn't much matter and, above all else, he is simply someone who is intrigued by sound.
Solter tells another insightful tale. He was setting up for a tracking session with John Vanderslice and listening to Vanderslice strum what was to become "Trance Manual" from Pixel Revolt. Believing the song wanted to be more than an acoustic strumming affair, Solter began hearing a clock-like quality in Vanderslice's playing. The clock motif soon grew into bells (the kind played by gloved people in church). Solter contacted a local church and arranged to have some bells available for the next session.
Chapter 2
"I Am Deathly Afraid Of Being Dull"
Central to understanding Scott is understanding the difference between rules and parameters. Parameters form an artistic architecture that gives a project shape and direction. "Rules," on the other hand, are the domain of how-to books. I mention it mostly for this simple reason: Scott is not afraid to use exaggerated EQ during tracking. "I make things sound bright," he says without a trace of shame. "I make sure there's 5 and 6 kHz on everything. I EQ everything all the time. The virtue is not in being a 'purist.' The virtue is in the fact that you heard the need for something to happen and you made it sound fucking awesome." When I register my disbelief at his nose thumbing at the trend of recording flat, he scoffs. "I got an email from a Japanese kid who lost his virginity to the Lazarus record," referring to 2004's Like Trees We Grow Up to Be Satellites (The Backwards America). "That's more important to me than recording flat." The whole conversation ties back to one of Solter's prime motivators: hatred of dull sounds. It seems simple and maybe even obvious, but it's a thought that bears itself out beautifully throughout his body of work. Many of our great sonic architects have signatures, whether deliberate or not. Scott's defining characteristic might be that he's a thrill-seeker, constantly looking for ways to surprise himself.
Chapter 3
Water Is Gear
I wonder aloud how Solter orchestrated something as sublime as "Fade Out to Little Arrow," one of the crowning tracks from the Court and Spark's Bless You CD. I wonder if the crystalline, liquid sound came from the mic preamps, the microphones themselves or maybe the mixer or the tape machine. Turns out it wasn't so much the microphones. Or the preamps. Or the tape machine. So what was it? Water. When Scott says "water," he's talking both about the idea of water and the actual physical presence of water. For him, the conceptual plane must be adaptable to the real world of getting sound to tape (maybe the simplest way to say this comes from Solter himself when he says, "I'm a very literal person!") When a song's operative word is "water," does it mean you simply picture water during tracking? No. It means you get a water jug and you hold it between guitar amp and mic, creating a sort of seasick guitar tone. Water is no longer a concept. In a very tangible, literal way, water is in the music.
Chapter 4
Hands Are Gear
Scott's not big on "What kind of mic did you use?" conversations. As he puts it, "'What kind of mic' is 1/32 of the entire question. What kind of pick, what kind of strings, what kind of guitar... Just the guitarist moving the right hand closer to the bridge alters the sound." Amen.
Chapter 5
No Excuses
Solter feels a special allegiance to drummers who know how to tune drums. He admires guitarists who engage in what he calls the "laborious process of finding the right amp." He explains, "I've had guitarists tell me that tone is for guitar geeks and then be audacious enough to ask for a certain sound."
Chapter 6a
Commit
The recording notes on John Vanderslice's website explain that send/return effects are not used on some of the Vanderslice recordings. It's a point that nicely underscores one of Solter's maxims: he's not afraid to commit to an idea. He frequently prints effects, letting those decisions shape the sound of a song. Once I was stuck on a mix. I asked Scott for advice and he told me to run the drum sound through a low-pass filter and then build the rest of the song around the resulting submerged sound. It occurred to me that the guy believes in the moment — instinct and faith. Of that particular advice (filters being one of his favorite tools), Scott said, "You want to have that kind of power when you're designing sound." On the other hand, Solter is quick to point out that he's just as willing to go the send/return route if it suits him — as it often has in his remix work. "I'm a huge fan of adding anything, anytime, anyhow," he says. "Don't worry about fucking up. Don't worry about doing 'the wrong thing.' Don't worry about 'Is this weird, is this lame, what will people think?' When you're by yourself in the studio, you're awesome. The trouble happens when you start worrying about how your fans or the public will react. Don't fill your head with that kind of crap. You don't have an ounce of control over those things. If you did have that kind of control, I'd hope you were doing more important things than making a record."
Chapter 6b
More On Commitment
"All methods are valid," Solter continues. "The thing that has to be behind it is a total commitment. Don't interject future doubting. Don't think, 'What if it's not what I want?' I like commitment of sound when it's the product of present enthusiasm in creating a sound. Sometimes people record dry because they're wary of committing to something and think they will change it later. I absolutely disagree. I would never work that way. You should only put on tape something you feel attracted to, whether it's normal and clean or completely crazy, modified sound. Be so present that you're committing what you like at the moment. I don't believe in not committing to something because of fear. If you're working on the song right now, what are you feeling right now? Where is your interest in the song at that moment? Why are you recording the bass if you don't know what the bass should be? Why aren't you outside mowing the lawn? I don't want to record if I'm not sure what I want."
Chapter 7
Collaborate
"The ideal role for me is some kind of collaboration," Scott says. "This could be anything from arranging and orchestrating to tone-shaping. I don't consider myself a "musician" as much as "musical," but I prefer collaborative situations where each person's strengths and potentials are played up in the recording. A free exchange of ideas is a good place to start. It's taken me a while to learn all this."
Chapter 8a
Tape Is Cool, But...
In one of my first conversations with Scott, back around the time of Vanderslice's Life and Death of an American Fourtracker, Scott enthusiastically explained to me why he loved tape. He explained that "infinite sampling," as he called it, will always be better than a technique that only takes occasional snapshots of sound. It made sense then, and it still does. But when I recently asked him about this again, in the wake of both digital improvements and tape manufacturer meltdowns, his stance had understandably changed. "I use both mediums," he explained. "My personal standard is that I should know the mediums as well as possible, whether it's cutting tape, navigating the computer or filtering with a wire recorder. All sound is good sound; you just have to put them together as compellingly as possible. Not an easy task. I would say this though — I'm a little bummed by some naïve opinions about analog. The notion that analog machines are limited and that you can't, say, edit on tape like you can on a computer is bogus. Any real experience with tape machines and other analog devices proves this notion wrong. The strength of any sound is the strength of one's commitment to create it, regardless of the medium." Recently we talked about this again, wondering how or if Tchad Blake's fabled low- end sounds have changed in the wake of Pro Tools. (The verdict? Maybe, but he's brilliant either way.) Scott opined that tape captures more extended high-end, low-end, and harmonic content. However he quickly added, "That's of course if the machine is in good working order, headstack is in good shape, properly aligned, de-magnetized, clean, etc. This is the three-dimensional sound people hear when comparing the formats."
Chapter 8b
Tricking The A-to-D Guillotine
Scott continues: "So with digital I think one has to take greater care to get strong sounds before the A-to-D guillotine takes over. On the other hand, it's creativity, composition and songwriting that we're concerned about. Any format, machine or device that is getting us toward our objective is valid. [Christian] Fennesz produces compelling sonics on laptop, turntabilism, grime. Dub's legacy is filled with imagination, pushing the limits of makeshift machines."
Chapter 9
The Lazarus Prescription
A few sample prescriptions are in order. "An example would be the Lazarus record Like Trees We Grow Up to Be Satellites (The Backwards America). The ideas were (1) Use only metal and wood, and (2) The orchestration must sound like what a Maxfield Parrish landscape looks like."
Chapter 10
The Balustrade Prescription
"This fellow basically brought in an electric guitar and played these arpeggio compositions," Solter says. "At some point we concluded that this simple documenting of his compositions on a Stratocaster wasn't really taking us anywhere. So we had the idea to turn the whole thing into a kind of creaky- music-boxes-underwater-themed recording. We came up with several operative words/phrases, and he agreed to allow me to shape the pieces with him according to these phrases: music boxes under water, bird sanctuaries, breathing antiques, analog triggers and misused FX pedals. This process got us out of the creative jam and gave the project meaning."
Chapter 11
The Boxharp Prescription
Boxharp is a collaboration among Scott, his wife Wendy and a rotating cast of comrades. Their new record should be available by the time you read this. Its prescription is a most intriguing one. Said Solter in August 2007, "Operative words for this final leg of the record are: damaged tape, surface ambience/surface aging, incorrect loads, the Palermo crypt and field recording."
Chapter 12
The "Witkin Dub" Prescription
"Witkin Dub" is a track from Canonic, Solter's remix of Pattern is Movement's Stowaway. Solter keeps art and photography books near and often looks to them for inspiration. The cadaver photography of Joel-Peter Witkin provided the prescription for the remix of "Two Voices for Two Sections." Solter adds that he often starts in the middle with remix songs, seeking to find a foothold. Once he finds it, the rest of the track usually falls into place. Of "Witkin Dub," Solter remembers making the connection between Witkin and the track: "This is going to be a totally gnarly jam — death oriented and grinding. It may or may not work out," he says of his instinctual methodology, "but most of the time it does."
Chapter 13
Selected Works
I want to know what work Scott is really proud of. After all, it's an enviable discography that includes Vanderslice, The Mountain Goats, Lazarus, Spoon, The Court & Spark and Pattern is Movement, among others. Scott answers, "There are elements of several records that I can point to that stand out for me. Some records allowed me to work in novel locations and with esoteric instruments that shaped the colors I like to hear. Some remix records that I've done for Pattern is Movement and John Vanderslice have opened up a number of methods for subsequent projects. Both of these projects taught me how to stretch an idea with minimal gear. Erik Friedlander allowed me to improvise with him, treating his cello to tape. That felt like an invitation to the Last Supper. Using Maxfield Parrish's mural images to get at the color of Lazarus's Like Trees... record has inspired methods for other projects."
Chapter 14
North Carolina Is A Long Way From San Francisco
After years in San Francisco, the 42-year-old Solter now makes his home in rural North Carolina, sharing an old house and four acres with his wife. Of the move, Scott says, "Isolation: I was not totally prepared for it. Moving from San Francisco to North Carolina is like going from a house of prostitution to a nunnery." On a Friday afternoon back in June 2007, I caught Scott knee-deep in the kind of ennui that can only be exacerbated by rural isolation: it was as though he got the bends in his move from San Francisco and Tiny Telephone to his new home. The early part of our conversation that day was peppered with statements like, "I'm not sure what direction to go," but, at characteristic Solter speed, we were soon talking about one of his favorite artists, Pole, and how the low end on those records makes Solter "want to lick the ground." Besides, Solter has found North Carolina to be something of a used gear Mecca ("Is that a Rhodes behind that vegetable stand?" Solter jokes).
Chapter 15
This Is How Grownups Live Their Lives
Solter was, once upon a time, a bass player. He started migrating to the proverbial other side of the glass while, as he describes it, "listening to some amazing record and realizing this is how some grownups live their life — they make something as fucking insanely bad-ass as this. But I had no experience. I was such an abject loser. I didn't really know what a console was. So I leased a space, and started to build a studio. Sometimes the logic is backward, but intention is lawless. I knew this guy who had a Mackie, and, looking at it I might as well have been in the space shuttle. Of course, within a week I was offering to record people's bands."
Chapter 16
Letters To A Young Engineer
I've asked Solter countless times for help on mixes, and he's always been gracious enough to offer his thoughts. A sample response: "What elements in this song do you want to pop? What are the dimensions in this song? For every close, is there a far? For every vague, is there a clear?" Another: "Think in opposites. See exaggerated relationships between instruments. Always think of how an instrument is going to fit in. Is it dominant? A fabric instrument? A chord instrument? If you're doubling something, pull the mic back and put it underneath so that it has almost no real body. Just start turning machines on and plugging things in, correctly and incorrectly. It's art. You're supposed to fall. All sound is good sound. All gear is valuable. For the next month, take no instrument at face value. Take responsibility for your art. Stop caring. Your instincts will not let you fail. Get mean, the way hip-hop is mean. Be Jay-Z minimal. Be without safety, like Clipse. Record sounds that get you excited. Find power in the cheap shit. Commit to the violence of it. Change it absurdly. Either be more specific or be more willing to accept the unknown or the novel. Keep bouncing off yourself. Make obscene moves. There are moments when some instruments just don't work in a song or in a mix. Wanting a killer guitar tone but not caring about your amp and strings and picks is like wanting six-pack abs but not doing sit- ups." Even a few rare nuggets of gear advice, such as, "The best mics for the money: Beyer." But maybe the most instructive piece of wisdom he's been good enough to share was an observation of his own way of working, particularly with Vanderslice. "We are not very concerned about compartmentalizing," he told me. "We're more interested in the incredibly weird walking hand in hand with the incredibly normal."
Epilogue
I've always thought of Tape Op as an ongoing love letter to sound. And it's an open letter at that — a periodic transmission from a mob chasing down something it only has a small chance of catching. Come to think of it, maybe we are stalkers of sound. And it's in that spirit that I humbly offer the preceding chapters on Scott Solter. He is, after all, one of us — a fellow lover, a fellow mobster, a fellow stalker. May his prescriptions aid you as they have aided me. r
ScottSolter.com,scott@boxharp.com, myspace.com/ScottSolter
Andy Brawner lives in Milwaukee and records under the name Time Since Western (myspace.com/TimeSinceWestern). He will eat this magazine if his record, A Sun Goes Down, doesn't come out in 2008. abrawner2006@hotmail.com
