Of all the elements that make up a successful engineer/producer, I always find that a positive outlook, a love of many musical genres, and a quest to learn and to achieve more always form the core values of people I admire. Ronan Chris Murphy has all of these and more. He runs his Veneto West Studio in Santa Monica, California, works on many records a year there (as well as internationally), creates and hosts the fabulous online Ronan's Recording Show and runs a small school called Recording Boot Camp. But at the core, it's all about the music. Ronan has worked with great groups and players in his studio and all over the world including King Crimson, Ulver, Terry Bozzio, Steve Morse, Tony Levin, Martin Sexton, Pete Teo, Chucho Valdes y Grupo Irakere and Nels Cline.
When did you start recording? I know you were in the D.C. punk band Freak Baby.
Yeah. I started that when I was 15 — back in the early- '80s. The goofy little footnote in history is that my first band and Dave Grohl's first band were the same, but a couple of weeks apart. I quit to start a new group and took the guitar player with me. Dave was the replacement guitar player. It was an amazing time. Minor Threat played the local high school prom! You'd go to shows and see Bad Brains, Void, and Faith — some of the best hardcore. Then I moved to Richmond, Virginia in about 1985 and got involved in another amazing music scene.
I started touring a bit then. My bands were never super-famous, but we got to play with groups like the Flaming Lips, Dinosaur Jr., All, Henry Rollins, Beefeater, Iron Cross and other really cool groups. Towards the end of the eighties, the band I was in wasn't doing much. I got into recording, producing and arranging, and I never really looked back. I dove headlong into it. I taught myself and read every book ever written about recording. I was learning and doing stuff with a [Tascam] Portastudio. Then I moved to Boston for a couple of years.
Did you work at any studios there?
Honestly, the main studio I worked for there was so awful that I don't want to give them any credibility. They ran the whole business based on this certain religion they were into, and I would not fully participate. I think that eventually got me fired!
I've never heard of anything like that!
Yeah, it was an interesting situation! I had an opportunity to be an assistant at a studio that did a lot of dance stuff. I was the only one who knew how to record drums and I was the only guy who enjoyed working with the hip-hop clients. I went from being an assistant to being a first engineer in a few weeks. I've never looked back. It's a mixed blessing. There were still things I was learning ten years after the start of my career. It might have been better to assist longer, but I eventually got it figured out!
I think it happens that way for a lot of people in our field.
Yeah, probably now more than ever. But, at that same time, I was at Berklee [College of Music] for a couple of years in the synthesis department, which actually turned out to be kind of hip. Back then digital audio was this weird thing that the synthesis people did — the recording people weren't touching it at all. I used Pro Tools the day it came out. Because of getting early access to that technology, it opened a lot of doors. After I was in Boston for three years I got invited to be a producer in residence at the Banff Centre in Canada. It was awesome, and it's one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. I would wake up, go snowboarding for a few hours, take a shower, go to the studio, go dancing afterwards with my friends and repeat it all the next day. I was working with Norma Winstone, Kenny Wheeler, Robin Eubanks and all these chamber and jazz musicians. I worked with Los Muñequitos de Matanzas — one of the premiere rumba groups from Cuba, along with Chucho Valdés y Grupo Irakere. Banff really was a dream come true. It's such a beautiful place, and the work just came to me. There were other people lining the sessions up. Some of the times I didn't even realize what I was working on. Someone would say, "Hey, we have this guy from Finland coming to record. You're in charge." I'd hang out and get to know the music and then realize, "Hey, that's Anssi Karttunen." Just these monster players! I also got to do work composing music for some dance companies and Native American dance concerts — I love doing that stuff. But my real gig is recording.
What was the process of getting involved with Banff?
Well, I had to apply. I had to submit letters of recommendation, my body of work and so on. I was already involved with emerging technologies, so that helped. That weird hybrid in my life has informed who I am. I'm a musician because of Neil Young, but my first group was a punk band. My biggest credits are prog-rock groups, but I love chamber music too. It kind of rounds me out.
How long was the Banff experience?
I was up there for two years. I didn't know where I was going after that, but a friend of mine was leaving for Argentina and said I could have his apartment for free. So next thing you know, I'm moving to Seattle! [laughter]
Where did you work in Seattle?
I worked the most at Paradise Sound in the Cascade Mountains, outside of Seattle. I've worked in a lot of amazing studios all around the world, but Paradise Sound is my absolute favorite. It's got a giant live room, G-Series SSL 4000, Pro Tools HD, [iZ Technology] RADAR, a closet full of Neumann mics and so on. The rates are nice and low, the people that run it are wonderful, and when you sit out back on the deck it's like looking at a postcard.
It sounds like a "labor of love" kind of place.
I think they've made some smart decisions about how they put it together. There was a time when I was their main client; it was my home base when I was in Seattle. When they did upgrades they would upgrade with things I would like. That was great! If I could choose only one studio, that's where I'd make records the rest of my life.
There are accommodations out there?
Yep. A small three-bedroom house down the mountain. At one point I almost ditched having my own studio and considered just working out of there. But I couldn't do some of the smaller budget jobs that I can take on by having my own place. I could probably choose not to have my own place and make the same amount of money at the end of the year; but I couldn't wake up and make records everyday. Hundreds of records into this, I still get giddy to record. It thrills me! The emotionally fulfilling jobs aren't always the biggest ones, but it's always worth it. I love having my own room with gear I like a lot. I can take good care of people's music. It's worth it, and I can still make car payments!
Even when you're freelancing, you're still accumulating equipment.
Yeah. I started my own set up in Seattle with just ADATs and a little Mackie mixer for overdubbing. All of a sudden I've got a console in the room and I'm making records! In England, I was living in the cottages on Robert Fripp's estate when I was doing so much work with King Crimson. My home and my studio were in the cottages. I later had a smaller space in L.A. too, near Venice Beach. Now I have a place with a big analog console and gear racks taller than I am. Moving is a lot tougher than it used to be!
John: Do you have a business partner?
Yeah. My partner is Liz Redwing — my partner for all things in life. She's been in the music business longer than I have. She handles everything business about the studio. She does all my scheduling, the billing and the publishing. She's a godsend! It's so tough to hang out and have a money conversation with an artist in a creative pursuit. So she takes care of that.
When did your Recording Boot Camp classes start?
I've been doing them for about nine years. It's been better than I expected. It's a lot of fun for me, and people seem to get a lot out of it.
What do you teach? What level are the students usually at?
We do short courses for a wide range of students, but I always screen people beforehand for the six-day Boot Camp. I want people in the middle. I don't want the first time someone's heard about compression to be with me, but I do want them to leave with a deeper understanding of it and how to use it as a creative tool. Really advanced guys might be bored with it. In the six-day workshops, I keep it limited to five or six students. I make sure that people understand the fundamentals, because most people don't, even if they think they do. I've done 4-track cassette recordings to working in multi-million dollar studios to everything in between. I kind of figured out that I'm doing a lot of the same things in all of them, so everything I teach is really scalable. It's really about getting people to think about how they're approaching things. The biggest mistake most people make is making recording more complicated than they need to.
In what ways do they do that?
Part of it is that they seem compelled to use more complex approaches on things, rather than really mastering the more effective simple techniques that have worked for decades. For example, people chase their favorite guitar sounds — that were accomplished with simple techniques — by using complicated approaches. And they wonder why they are having trouble. A lot of what I do is try to get people to master the core building blocks of recording in a holistic way, because it is such a powerful way of working. You really need to be thinking about mixing when you figure out what key the song should be in, or what kick drum you should use. When we're mic'ing the instruments, we need to be thinking about mixing and mastering. How is it going to sit in with other elements? Most people are approaching recording wrong and getting themselves in trouble, in a way. Let's step back. I try to teach people critical listening. I have no interest in telling people what they should like - that's not my business. I'm interested in them hearing the sound that comes out of the speakers. If it's not what they want, then what can they do to get what they do want? I have guys in my class who are metal fans and others who are jazz fanatics. But what everyone strives to do in the studio is get a great sound. The techniques are the same for each genre; it's just a matter of manipulating them differently to fit the creative vision. A lot of it is trying to get students to hear the music and how it's put together. I've been stunned about the reaction from the Boot Camp. It's been really fulfilling for me.
What was the impetus to start Ronan's Recording Show?
I started it because I was in talks about doing a video with some other people, but that never materialized. The funny thing is, I've always had this really odd dream to have my own cable access show, even if it was to play old rock videos! [laughter]
Wayne's World!
Exactly! But mostly I just started doing it because it seemed like a fun idea, and it's a good way to spread the word. The business of music is getting so weird; it seems like there's less joy in music making, and I don't think that's because I'm getting older. A lot of records these days seem like these big "data management" projects. The show is a way to celebrate what's cool about making records. It's daunting to put together because I am not a video guy, so it's a good challenge. My challenges of doing video make me more empathetic to the fans of my show.
You and I are usually in a recording studio a lot, but artists might be in one only a few times in their lives. Do you keep that in mind?
Absolutely. One of my pet peeves is when someone works with a client they find annoying. If you do not like them, then don't work with them! That's one of the reasons I don't have a business with a shingle out front. I want to be able to hang out with people. I want them to dig what I'm about and I want to dig what they're about. It really irks me that some engineers call themselves "turd polishers." I actually met someone who had that on his business card! It's important to be able to find something you admire about the artists. If you can find the core of value, you can work honorably with them. Are they great technical players? Do they lack technicality but have a lot of heart and spirit? I want to capture what they're great at.
There always has to be something.
I think you're doing a disservice to the artist and their fans if you can't find that. The truth is that you're doing a disservice to yourself, because you end up hanging out at a bar bitching about having to go to work the next day. Dude, you're getting up and going to make records! What on earth are you complaining about?
There are far worse things to do for a living! You've been able to travel the world recording.
I love to travel and I love meeting different people. Getting to travel and make music is one of the coolest things. The longer projects are great; you really learn the pace of life in other places. I've always tried to foster that. I love jumping on planes and trying something new. I've done quite a bit of work in Italy.
I did one record a few years back with the Italian band Hypnoise. We did their first record in a big studio, tracking on a Neve, while mixing and overdubbing on an SSL. We decided to do something completely different on their second record. The drummer and guitar player have families who've been living in this villa for over 200 years, and that's where they had rehearsal space. We decided to put some gear together and put a bunch of restrictions on ourselves. So we recorded to 1/2-inch 8-track, no bouncing, using only four mics for the entire session, including recording basics. Two mics on the drums, one on guitar, one on bass. Nothing digital could touch the album until it was compiled for mastering. It was a great thing. When we wanted those other flavors, we had to find original ways to get them. The drummer would want a particular reverb sound on the snare, so we'd cart the drums to a 1,000-year-old church down the road and overdub snare hits. We did everything that needed reverb in the church. We also went to the canals of Venice to overdub singing while bouncing around the canals of Venice.
Did people wonder what you were doing in the canals?
Yes! We flew it back into the mix in wild sync. We carted a wild old 1950's ReVox tube recorder around the canals of Venice. We'd bug people to ask if we could plug in. It worked out really well. We recorded a bunch of stuff at 3 a.m., using the natural reverb of St. Marks Square. We ended up, because of logistics, tracking at 7 in the morning. The record was nominated for "Best Album Sound" at the Prog Awards, but we lost to David Gilmour! I took this process one step further recently with Riaffiora. We did almost all of the overdubs in remote locations around Northern Italy, including lots of outdoor spaces using a Zoom handheld recorder.
And you've had a hit in Malaysia?
I have done a couple albums in Malaysia. One of the big thrills a few years back was going to Kuala Lumpur for seven weeks. Pete Teo was part of a duo [Mid Century] that had a big pop hit in Hong Kong, but then he kind of checked out of music and came back as a singer/songwriter. I got invited to produce him and it was so awesome. Kuala Lumpur is a mixture of Malay, Indian and Chinese culture. My initial producing vision was more Leonard Cohen-esque as a Western singer/songwriter. Then I started researching the region and I really wanted to bring that culture into the palate of the record. We ended up with Indian percussion, Chinese classical instruments and Malay folk instruments. It was a big mix of things, and it was one of the most wonderful recording experiences of my life. We were considering bringing a bunch of gear out to some bungalows in the jungle of Malaysia. I was 100% for that idea, but then we realized the monkey bleed would be bad. Too much monkey bleed in the tracks! [laughter] We had to scrap that idea and do it in a studio. But that album [Rustic Living for Urbanites] was on the Top Ten for months over there.
I know you've also done some work with Norway's Ulver.
I'd been a fan for years and I always assumed they were kind of an obscure cult band that I loved. I got asked to work on a record with them and I was thrilled. I didn't realize they were my biggest credit! All of a sudden I got huge spikes on my web traffic. They had put one line on their website that they were coming to Los Angeles to work with me. I still get fan mail because I've worked with Ulver — their fans want to know what it was like. They're amazing and they deserve it. Their first record was generic Norwegian black metal — they got a pretty good following in that genre. So they decided to capitalize on that by recording an entirely acoustic album sung entirely in ancient Danish, based on traditional Norwegian folk melodies! [laughter]
Oh my god!
Their next album was the nastiest, most brutal album, with a few little acoustic interludes mixed in. Then they just checked out and did ambient music for the next eight years. I love them! After a while, they decided to return to form. They'd done some film soundtracks and stuff like that. They brought me in to record Blood Inside when they decided to do a rock record again. I brought Mike Keneally in to play some guitars on it, as well as a couple of solos. But aside from that, there is virtually no electric guitar on the album. It's just mangled orchestral samples and whatnot. While they were here [in California], Ulver did a little bit of work on a soundtrack with Tom McRae and [The Standing Band] — he's a great singer/songwriter guy. I play some harmonium on it. That ended up being the third biggest film in Norway that year. It's a film called Uno, about a mentally handicapped kid who's crazy about the game Uno. All my stuff is like that. I've had a number two hit in Malaysia, I got to number 18 on the charts in Iceland and then this big Norwegian record. It's fun. You're not supposed to care about that stuff, but it's fun to see a record that you helped make get in the charts! It's a thrill that people have connected with it. Obviously, one of the big heartbreaks is when you make one of those records you think is the most beautiful thing you've ever heard and nobody else ever gets to hear it.
Your discography isn't exclusive to any genre.
I intentionally do that. It's not the smartest thing to do, in terms of business. It's good to get pigeonholed for business as a metal guy, jazz guy, indie rock guy, or whatever. But I hang out with some of those people who are very specialized and they are usually complaining about their day. Hundreds of records into it and I'm still excited. I'll intentionally branch out. If I've just done a bunch of jazz records, I'll intentionally seek out a singer-songwriter or metal album. I've had to work hard to not just be seen as the progressive rock guy. I've worked with some of the best in progressive rock, but for a while those were the only calls I was getting. I love singer-songwriter records, but people were afraid to call me for those because I was "the King Crimson guy." I had to turn down prog rock jobs for a while, even if it paid more money, just so I could break out.
What was your initial foray into the field of progressive rock?
I've always loved music that pushes the boundaries. I grew up on punk and the DC punk band Void was my favorite. They were pioneers. The same stuff that drew me to punk is the same thing that draws me to great chamber music. I got known in different circles and that's how I eventually came across the King Crimson guys. An opportunity opened up because Robert Fripp needed somebody to go on the road and record live shows for him, as well as do tech and roadie jobs. He and I connected and got along great. He eventually invited me to start mixing some albums for him. I even lived at his place for a while. Then it got around to other people and they were like, "Well, Fripp thinks he's good." I stumbled into that and I really loved it. I've been lucky enough to work with the best of the best. What King Crimson was doing in '81 bears no resemblance to what they were doing in '74. That's why it's progressive! Bands like Yes, or an artist like drummer Terry Bozzio, are exciting because they're willing to try something new. A new Porcupine Tree record is so much more exciting than a group that is being derivative. Bands like that make me excited to get up in the morning, because I want to go make something cool. I couldn't imagine being anything different. I'm lucky that some of the greatest musicians in the world have trusted me with their music and allowed me to record them. I doubt history will remember me, but I got to hang out and be a part of this amazing process. One of the highlights of my career was recording an electric cello solo with Tony Levin for a Bozzio Levin Stevens album. It was just me and him hanging out really late at night, and he's playing this beautiful music. I remember thinking, "How could life get any better?"
