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Issue 142

AUGUST 2ND, 2021

Is there a reader among us who doesn’t dig ZZ Top? We mourn the passing of Joseph Michael “Dusty” Hill (72), , vocalist and keyboardist for the . Blending , boogie, bone-crushing rock, born-for-MTV visuals, humor and outrageousness – they once took a passel of live animals on stage as part of their 1976 – 1977 Worldwide Texas Tour – Hill, drummer and guitarist Billy F. Gibbons have scorched stages worldwide. As a friend said, “it’s amazing how just three guys could make that much sound.” Rest in peace, Mr. Hill.

In this issue: Anne E. Johnson gets inspired by the music of Renaissance composer William Byrd, and understands . Wayne Robins reviews Native Sons, the superb new from . Ray Chelstowski interviews The Immediate Family, featuring studio legends , Lee Sklar, and others, in an exclusive video interview. I offer up more confessions of a record collector. Tom Gibbs finds much to like in some new SACD discs. John Seetoo winds up his coverage of the Audio Engineering Society’s Spring 2021 AES show.

Ken Sander travels through an alternate reality. WL Woodward continues his series on troubadour . Russ Welton interviews cellist Jo Quail, who takes a unique approach to the instrument. In another article, he ponders what's needed for sustaining creativity. Adrian Wu looks at more of his favorite analog recordings. Cliff Chenfeld turns us on to some outstanding new music in his latest Be Here Now column. J.I. Agnew digs deeper into the extraordinary Telefunken M15A tape machine. B. Jan Montana faces the music. Rudy Radelic continues his definitive survey of legend . We fill out the issue with some modern-day blues, incredibly rare loudspeakers, the ages of plastic and an organ donation. Staff Writers:

J.I. Agnew, Ray Chelstowski, Cliff Chenfeld, Jay Jay French, Tom Gibbs, Roy Hall, Rich Isaacs, Anne E. Johnson, Don Kaplan, Don Lindich, Stuart Marvin, Tom Methans, B. Jan Montana, Rudy Radelic, Tim Riley, Wayne Robins, Alón Sagee, Ken Sander, Larry Schenbeck, John Seetoo, Dan Schwartz, Russ Welton, WL Woodward, Adrian Wu

Contributing Editors: Ivan Berger, Steven Bryan Bieler, Harris Fogel, Robert Heiblim, Ken Kessler, Bob Wood

Cover: “Cartoon Bob” D’Amico

Cartoons: James Whitworth, Peter Xeni

Parting Shots: James Schrimpf, B. Jan Montana, Rich Isaacs (and others)

Editor: Frank Doris

Publisher: Paul McGowan

Advertising Sales: No one. We are free from advertising and subscribing to Copper is free.

– FD Confessions of a Record Collector, Part Two

FRANKLY SPEAKING Written by Frank Doris

In Part One (Issue 137) I noted that many of us have made the transition from mere purchasers of record to hopelessly hooked vinyl collectors. For example, my friend Alex, who bought 3,500 albums last year alone. Or Les and George at Angry Mom Records in Ithaca, New York, who had to start a record store because their collections were getting too big for their homes.

In the last column I pointed out some of the telltale signs that you, too, have become an irredeemable vinyl obsessive. It usually starts insidiously, unnoticeably and with room for plausible deniability – until one day your eyes are burning from hours of looking at Goldmine, or you’ve set your alarm for 5:00 am to be the first at a garage sale advertising records, or...

You’re in the mood to play a certain record – and can’t find it. You’ve misfiled or misplaced it, which is doubly aggravating because, one, you really have to hear that record right now and not one of the thousands of other discs you own, and two, it sets your obsessive-compulsiveness into overdrive. All my records must be perfectly filed! Where is that record? Where is it? AAARRRGGHHHH!

Later, you’re out on that big first date, or trying to concentrate on something at work, or looking for the freeway exit, and all you can think about is that record and how you could possibly have been so stupid as to mis-file it.

A tangent to this is when you’re browsing through records and can’t remember whether or not you own a particular LP. You decide that you don’t, you buy it, and when you go to file it in your collection...realize you already have it. Maybe more than one copy. I’m sorry to have to break the news but the older you get, the worse this syndrome manifests itself.

There’s one allowable exception to having your records scrupulously filed. That’s the “new arrivals” stack. This is in fact a foolproof “tell” that someone’s a veteran vinylphile – that section of records, waiting to be played, usually on the floor, with the records leaning at ever-more-acute angles the closer they are to the beginning of the pile. Inevitably, they’re completely disorganized.

This “new arrivals” section may be 20 years old.

Speaking of multiple copies – of course you have more than one copy of your favorite records. I mean, come on. The anxiety of having just one copy of a treasured disc is unbearable. What if something were to happen to it? You need a backup or five. And with a record like ’ Kind of Blue, there have been endless reissues, and you’ve been compelled to see if the latest remaster sounds better. So, you buy it again...and again...and again...

I buy multiples of certain records that are near and dear to me and rare, like the first Earth Opera album, or At The Sound Of The by Pavlov’s Dog (I have at least six, including an impossibly rare test pressing that only gets played on very special occasions), or original Charisma Records pressings of Peter Gabriel- Genesis albums, or Tal Farlow’s 1983 Cookin’ On All Burners (I’ve only found two).

You’ll also buy records you already own if they’re cheap. My daughter amused to find out that I had seven copies of Kraftwerk’s Autobahn. Well, one of them still had the $1.98 sticker on it. At that price, there’s no way I wasn’t going to buy it.

Then of course, there’s upgrade-itis. Like stamps and vintage automobiles, in record collecting, condition is everything. So, if you own a VG (Very Good) copy of Freak Out by , you yearn for an Excellent or Near Mint one.

You are not only aware that the Goldmine rating system is the accepted standard, you subscribe to Goldmine, aka “The Music Collector’s Magazine.” Finding a sealed copy of a record is bliss. Assuming it’s not a counterfeit, and since you’re an inveterate record collector, you know that records can be re-sealed by unscrupulous parties. You’ve undoubtedly heard stories of fake “butcher” Yesterday and Today Beatles album covers.

Record Store Day? Yawn. You’ve already checked out the offerings online and there’s nothing of interest.

You spend more than you should on records. Check that – you spend more than you can afford. But that’s amateur-level stuff. You know you’re a serious record collector when you’ve had to make a choice between records or food.

In college I had little or negative money – thank goodness for the Faculty-Student Association check cashing service, which every student learned to manipulate when it came to the “float” between cashing a check with no money in your account, and making a deposit to cover it. There were times when a new release by a favorite artist came out, and I had to have the record – immediately. But I would only have a couple of bucks or less in my pocket. I’d go for the record over the meal pretty much every time. I mean, there would always be a friend you could mooch food from, but, for example, only one copy of the new album left at Just-A-Song. A corollary: convince your friend to buy the album, and then go over to their place to listen to it...whether they wanted you there or not. Hey, what are friends for?

Speaking of which: when you go to a record store, or record collectors’ show, or garage sale or thrift shop for that matter – you, um, maybe don’t want to go with your friends.

They might snap up that mint copy of the Reiner Living Stereo Scheherazade before you do! For less than $5! (Andy, if you’re reading this, you know who I’m taking about.) It’s fun to go to record hunting with your buddies, no denying that, but when you’re with a guy like Michael Fremer, who can blaze through stacks of records like a threshing machine, and waves that copy of Music for Bang, Baaroom and Harp in front of your face that he just plucked while you were stumbling through the Steve and Eydie albums, it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

You’ve developed the ability to blaze through stacks of records like a threshing machine. You might not notice that your wife or significant other has changed their hairstyle, but you’ve acquired the ability to flip through stacks of albums at a dizzying rate and come to a stop at a speed that defies the laws of physics when you see something interesting. This skill really comes in handy at a record show, where dozens of collectors who are just as rabid as you are descend upon the racks. I mean, what if they get to the record you’re really looking for before you do? And I can’t be the only one who has spent so much time flicking through record bins that their hands hurt. (If this hasn’t happened to you yet, it will.) Here’s where you develop the shameful but useful skill of placing a pile of records on the stack next to the one you’re looking through, effectively blocking access to that stack until you can get to it.

You may consider yourself to be the world’s worst negotiator – except when it comes to buying records. You never pay asking price. Or at the least, you unhesitatingly ask for a discount. I’ve found that many used-record sellers will work with you on price, especially if you buy in quantity. If you’re a hard-core collector, the incentive may not be so much in saving money than in freeing up more cash to buy more records. As in so many other areas of commerce, cash is Rey, Raja, Kingu, melech. Maybe you’re the type who is intimidated at the new car showroom, but you’re Chester Karrass when buying used LPs. This record collecting business can be a tough game.

To be continued... Header image: Gary Wilson, You Think You Really Know Me, the legendary outsider music album. Only 600 copies of the original LP were pressed in 1977 and 1979. One recently sold on eBay for $1,594. Mine's not for sale but fear not, it's been reissued and available on streaming audio. A Southern California Musical Primer – Your Tour Guides: Los Lobos

WAYNE'S WORDS Written by Wayne Robins

This morning I woke up with an earworm that just won't let go. Fortunately, it is a pleasant one: the song "Sail On, Sailor." It was originally on ' 1973 Holland album, from 's intriguing trio of early albums that also included Sunflower and Surf's Up.

But it was not the Beach Boys version that resonated: it was Los Lobos, from their new album Native Sons (New West Records). Aside from the title song, all of the tracks are covers of Southern California music, from ocean to inner city, from Sunset Strip to the band's deep roots in East LA. The band still maintains all of its original members: , Louie Perez, Jr., , , and , a relative latecomer who moved over from in 1984. Would you believe me if I told you that the band was formed in 1942 with these same ? Of course not. It only seems that way, and Native Sons is the "proof" of that fiction. They actually formed circa 1973, which is nearly 50 years ago. They're recorded 17 studio albums, according to their current label, and as always, their music contains multitudes.

They started performing , quinceañeras and sweet sixteens, wedding parties and backyard barbecues: no style left unplayed. They were tight to begin with on their debut for , How ? (there were previous smaller indie releases going back to the 1970s), and a perfect fit with labelmates the Blasters, and X, also local LA bands with omnivorous musical tastes. They loosened up along the way to achieve the unclassifiable on albums such as Kiko (1992), which still sounds like it was released tomorrow, and (2010), which likewise never seems to age. Though they have won Grammys, their only true commercial breakthrough was the number one 1987 soundtrack to , the biopic about the short of teenage Mexican- American star , who died at 17 in the 1959 plane crash that killed and the Big Bopper. The first six songs of the soundtrack album are all Los Lobos doing Valens songs, as they do in the movie. A natural? They'd probably been playing "La Bamba" and "Donna" since they were 17.

In fact, though Los Lobos are magnificent , their way with covers has always made them prized on soundtracks and tribute albums. When I think "Bertha," one of the 's sturdiest songs, I think of Los Lobos’ version on the Deadicated album. They've even done covers records before, sometimes with guest artists: on Ride This, a generous seven-song EP from 2004, where they crush songs by (and sometimes with) artists as various as Richard Thompson's "Shoot Out the Lights," Tom Waits' "," 's "Uncomplicated," and Rubén Blades "Patria," all of which were refreshed by going through adaptations by Los Lobos.

Since they have been so almighty good for so very long, Los Lobos can elevate their covers just by playing them straight. That's the takeaway for me on Native Sons, on which songs are played pretty much like the originals. This is not boring: they still sound like Los Lobos, even if they also sound like the Beach Boys' on "Sail On, Sailor" (on the original, sang lead); or like on "Jamaica Say You Will." As a matter of taste, it's not my favorite, but it has a more singular purpose here: to testify to Browne's skill as a storyteller, encouraging Louie Perez to "write from introspection." Personal, but universal, according to the press notes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJtSi6-0418

Their take on , a medley of ’ "Bluebird"/"For What It's Worth," reinforces their identification with the disturbances on Sunset Strip and the LAPD enforcing "loitering" and curfew laws against in bell bottoms and miniskirts circa 1966, immortalized not just by Springfield but by the teen exploitation film Riot on Sunset Strip and its soundtrack. Los Lobos tries to replicate the Springfield songs, with David Hidalgo playing the duel of Stills (left channel), and (right channel).

Where I go crazy here is for the East LA garage and punk rock of opening song "Love Special Delivery" by , the first East LA rock band to break through to radio with their version of "Land of 1000 Dances" and the mostly instrumental "Whittier Boulevard." These songs defined the East LA cruising scene in the early , which was all about gussied up cars, riding slow and low to the ground. Thee Midniters provided the template for hundreds of other garage bands, who adapted "Thee" instead of "The" because it was so redolent of . In the same vein, "Farmer John," originally by of nearby San Gabriel, was a garage band staple (the early Lobos played it at weddings), though the version here is based on that of the composers, L.A. R&B stalwarts Don and Dewey: Don "Sugarcane" Harris and Dewey Terry. The ballad "Misery," one of 's earliest singles, was originally done by Motown singer and Barrett Strong, famed for "Money (That's What I Want"), and I suspect that the credited songwriter "Don Juan Mancha" is also Strong. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xc1R9p9CvKI

A long version of War's "" gives props that have long been missing for the seminal multicultural band of the 1970s, long overdue for rediscovery.

I thought some jump blues was missing the first time around until I paid attention to "Never No More" by Percy Mayfield. Though the original is late Mayfield (1962), Cesar Rosas’ pumphouse organ and Berlin's sax bring it back to the 1940s of zoot suits and strolling dressed to the nines down Central Avenue on Saturday night. The same vibe is presented in Spanish in "Los Chuchos Suaves" by Chicano musical great (the song is originally from 1949), with the occasional English phrase: "boogie woogie jitterbug," in case your feet missed the message. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsE2ec7amBM

The connection to the Blasters is reinforced by the bopping swing of 's "Flat Top Joint," while "Where Loves Go," an instrumental, says it's time to tuck in the kids or kiss the neighbors goodbye at the end of a long night.

I might have liked some representation of influential LA producer/bandleader , whether "" or deeper catalog, or Leiber and Stoller's work with ("Smokey Joe's Cafe"), transitioning to ("Down in Mexico"). Or The Olympics' "Big Boy Pete" or so many others, or Charles McCullough and the Silks' "Zorro" from LA’s Dootone label (a terrible record to some but a personal favorite). But then again, Leiber and Stoller's "Framed" is one of the Los Lobos tracks on La Bamba. And there may be an album's worth of Otis-related LA artists deep amid the Los Lobos catalog. Originals or covers, Los Lobos remains a band for all time, and for all times, and Native Sons is all that.

Header image: photo by Piero F. Giunt. The Alternative Coast (Back in the World, Part Two)

TRUE-LIFE ROCK TALES Written by Ken Sander

Ken’s article, “Back in the World,” about events in 1966 that led up to this story, ran in Issue 141.

In a few minutes Pete Johnson arrived at the downtown Los Angeles bus terminal. I was pleased at how quickly he had come. He waved me over and I got in his car and shook hands and we introduced ourselves. Leaving the downtown area, he told me he lived in Pasadena, which meant nothing to me. I had no sense of direction or location.

Not long afterwards we arrived at his house. It was a modest, small stucco house built in the 1930s. Not the house I would have imagined for the rock critic; my thinking was that writing was a lucrative profession. Okay, I know, but I was a naïve 21-year-old, street-smart, yes, but worldly? I still had a way to go.

He gives me a pillow and sets me up on the couch in the living room, and that is it for the evening. Next day I say I want to go to Hollywood; Sunset Strip to be exact. Pete points me in the right direction, and I head out, hitchhiking for the first time in my life. In less than five minutes a car picks me up and we have only gone a few blocks when I ask the driver if we were going the right way. He says, “sort of.” “What does that mean?” I ask. He replies, ‘’If you sit on my hand, I will take you anywhere you want to go.” I demand that he stop the car and let me get out.

Next guy who picks me up is going the right way, but as I look at the passenger door I notice there is no door handle. WTF? I say, “let me out.” He stops and I ask, “how do I open the door?” He reaches over me and pulls a rope and the door opens. This hitchhiking thing is not how I imagined it.

Next a car of four Mexican guys about my age picks me up. They say Sunset Boulevard is exactly where they are going. I notice they are drinking beer and seem buzzed. They do not offer me any and I do not ask. They start to act a little threatening, but I stay polite and unfazed. They are attempting to unnerve me and, having failed, they settle into silence. Not much later we come in the Sunset Strip part of Sunset Blvd, and they let me off.

I think to myself, this hitchhiking is just too weird and seems risky. I’d better sort out how the public bus system works.

I walk westward on the Strip and it’s certainly alive. Kind of like 42nd Street around Times Square but with young people. I am soaking it in; sure is different. I get the bus information, but most bus service ends by 11:00 pm so around 9:30 I get on a bus toward Pasadena. I must switch buses downtown and the trip takes about 90 minutes. This works for me, kind of. It certainly is safer. I never want to hitchhike again.

A couple of days later Pete says to me, “you know, this is not permanent. You are not my roommate. You are staying here as a favor; this is just temporary, remember?” “Sure, I know,” I answer but inwardly I am embarrassed. In my excitement I had not given one thought to this temporary living situation.

Next day I am back in West Hollywood. I meet a long-haired kid about my age, and we hang out. He is staying at a friend’s and says I can sleep on the couch that night. We get there and his friend is an older man, he seems okay. The kid sets me up on the couch and they both retreat into the bedroom. Hmmm, well, okay, and they leave me alone. Next morning my new friend and I leave that apartment. I suggest we take a bus out to the beach and look around; you know, check it out. We get a bus on Santa Monica Blvd. and travel west.

The last stop is Lincoln Blvd, and we get out, but we are still a ways from the Pacific Ocean. We walk around some. We stop at a Sambo’s (which will eventually become a Denny’s) for an early dinner. While eating, the kid tells me he is AWOL from the Army. I am surprised; I would not have guessed that. I say, “but you have long hair,” and then he pulls his hair off. It is a wig. I would not have guessed he was a deserter, but his living from hand to mouth now adds up. I say maybe he can go back; he is just AWOL, and he answers, “no. I hate the Army and I am not going to Vietnam.” “Okay,” I tell him, “but the longer you are AWOL the more trouble you will get into.” “I don’t care and they won’t catch me,” he answers. I am sympathetic, but am thinking that someday they will catch him, and if he is considered a deserter, he will get a few years in Leavenworth. Some serious prison time. I keep this to myself.

After dinner we are walking north on Lincoln, and we pass by a used car lot. They have a couple of used motorcycles for sale. That gets my attention and the inspirational light bulb in my head flicks on. This is perfect. I never considered a motorcycle before, but in Los Angeles you need a vehicle, and a motorcycle in this climate is right on the money for me. The public transportation for a city this big and spread out is pathetic.

Here I am, looking at a 90cc two-stroke Kawasaki priced at $250.00. I can afford it. I have about $700 or so in my pocket. I walk in and I ask about the bike, and the salesman says it is a good motorcycle and in good working condition. Okay, I’ll buy it. My new friend says he is heading back to West Hollywood, “see ya all later.”

It takes about 30 minutes to do the paperwork, registration, insurance, and such. Then the salesman walks me out to the bike and shows me how to shift the gears. He hands me the keys and I kickstart the bike and ride out of the car lot, making a right turn north on Lincoln, then east on Santa Monica Blvd. I am incredibly happy. This feels so right. I take it easy as I get myself familiar with my ride.

Back at Pete’s house, he says he might have a job opportunity for me. Am I interested? Sure, tell me more. He says Les Carter, a well-known Los Angeles , owns a record store in West Hollywood and needs help. Sounds good, I say, and he calls Les. Pete comes back in the room and tells me that I am to meet Les at The Music Revolution at 8709 Santa Monica Boulevard tomorrow at 1 pm. It is about a block and a half west of the Tropicana motel and Dukes restaurant. if I see an Orange Julius I have gone too far.

I meet Les and his wife Susan in the small but very cool-looking record store. Ten minutes later I get hired to start Monday at noon. (in 1976 Les began a successful career writing and producing for television and films. He worked-on scripts for Cagney and Lacey, The Marshal and L.A. Law among others.)

Time to look for an apartment, and now I know what neighborhood I am going to live in. Riding around West Hollywood, I see a For Rent sign on Larrabee Street between Sunset and Santa Monica just a few feet north of Cynthia Street. I go in and meet the landlord. She shows me a ground floor apartment with a bedroom, and a living area with a kitchen and a bathroom. It is all in one line.

Back in New York this is known as a railroad flat, common in the row houses called brownstones. These apartments run through the building front to back, with the toilet in the middle. Just like a railroad train, and most of the older ones had the bathtub in the kitchen. The ones in New York were built with 6-inch brownstone facades. The rest of these buildings were brick. These walk-up apartment buildings were built in the 1860s through the early 1900s. The older ones had stoops for elevation to provide sanitation. It was to rise above the swamp of animal waste and muck that covered the cobblestone streets of 18th-century .

I rent the flat on a month-to-month basis for $55 a month. I hop on my bike and go back to Pasadena. When I get there, I tell Pete I am moving out and I got the job, thank you, very very much. Pete is happy for me. I gather my things and head back out to my new apartment on Larrabee.

I move into the apartment, and it is not great, but okay for the moment. The very first night I am disturbed by the tenants’ cars when they drive within a foot of my window on their way to the parking lot in the back of the building. In addition to the noise of crunching gravel, their headlights flash into my apartment’s window, totally lighting up my bedroom. Apparently, this is gonna be a temporary place for me.

There are still a few days before I start working at The Music Revolution, so I start exploring. I have driven enough miles that I need to get gas. That is solved easily enough, and I head toward Griffith Observatory up in the hills. When I almost reach the top, the bike shuts down, stalled. It will not restart, and I have to say that I am genuinely concerned. About five minutes later I kick it over and it starts. Phew, it must have overheated. Back down in Hollywood I stop at an auto repair shop, and I tell them what happened. They look at the bike and ask, “did you mix oil in with the gas?” “No,” I answer, “why?” They tell me a two-stroke engine must have a mixture of oil and gasoline. I had just learned the difference between two-stroke and four-stroke engines.

Well, go figure. We city folk have limited knowledge of motor vehicles. But I do not see that as a character flaw. Be that as it may, I am having fun now.

To be continued... The Immediate Family: Studio Legends, Together Again

DISCIPLES OF SOUND Written by Ray Chelstowski

Back in the when I was a teenager, I spent countless nights with headphones on, playing the music of artists like Jackson Browne, , and . While the vinyl was spinning I was busy studying the inner sleeves of the LPs. I devoured their liner notes as though a spot quiz might follow at any minute.

One night it just hit me. I realized that all of these artists seemed to share the same core group of backup musicians. It prompted me to dig deeper. There I’d also find their names on records made by , , , , Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. They were everywhere! (guitar), Waddy Wachtel (guitar), Russ Kunkel (drums), and (bass) were their names, and they became synonymous with the music that mattered to me most. Much like The Wrecking Crew before them, this group of musicians was shaping a sound that would forever be associated with Los Angeles.

At that time they were known as “The Section,” and (sans Wachtel and with keyboardist ) recorded a few albums under that name that are best described as . In this musical forum they were allowed to really stretch out and strut their razor-sharp chops. But straightforward four on the floor would always be their calling, and it was there that they made those chops leave a mark.

In the present day, Danny Kortchmar, Russ Kunkel, Leland Sklar and Waddy Wachtel have come together again along with guitarist Steve Postell, to perform their own songs as The Immediate Family. They will be releasing their highly anticipated full-length, self-titled album on August 27th via Quarto Valley Records. Produced by the band, the new album features twelve original songs plus two bonus tracks: live versions of the Danny Kortchmar/Jackson Browne collaboration “Somebody’s Baby” and Warren Zevon’s “Johnny Strikes Up the Band.”

Recorded over three days at Jackson Browne’s studio in Los Angeles, the new album kicks off with a blast of electric with the lead track “Can’t Stop Progress.” The fiery three-guitar interplay intertwines throughout the rest of the album on songs like “Fair Warning,” “Time to Come Clean,” and “Turn it up to Ten.” The band’s love of rock and roll’s roots surfaces in the funky, bluesy tones of “Slippin’ and Slidin,” “Everything That’s Broken,” and the -esque “Damage.”

The release of The Immediate Family comes on the heels of the band’s two previous EPs, Slippin and Slidin’ (which debuted at No. 6 on Billboard’s Blues chart) and Can’t Stop Progress. The band will be touring in the fall following the new album’s release. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaejwBLSgvw

Activity around the band isn’t just limited to music. Production continues on The Immediate Family documentary by filmmaker Denny Tedesco, expected to be released in 2022. (He also produced The Wrecking Crew documentary and is the son of legendary Wrecking Crew guitarist Tommy Tedesco. More on The Wrecking Crew can be found in WL Woodward’s article in Copper Issue 135.)

We hosted a Zoom call with the entire band and spent a good hour talking about The Immediate Family, their musical mission, and how such a powerful collection of songs could be so masterfully performed and recorded in short order. The passion and energy these cats brought to the call was contagious, and a great reminder of how rock and roll brings all of us together like family, and can keep us fit and fresh for an entire lifetime.

During the interview, which you can view below, this lifelong fan of each and every and their body of work tried not to gush too much and to keep the time spent mostly in their court, allowing them to tell some remarkable stories about the artists they have worked alongside with, and the music they helped make famous and forever fun.

In the video, the participants are, from top left to right: Danny Kortchmar, Steve Postell and Russ Kunkel; from bottom left to right: Leland Sklar, Ray Chelstowski and Waddy Wachtel. https://player.vimeo.com/video/577174233

Cal Tjader, Part Five: The Concord Recordings

DEEP DIVE Written by Rudy Radelic

In our last installment (Issue 141), Cal Tjader had wrapped up his final album for Fantasy. He had rejoined Fantasy in 1970, but by 1974 he was already anxious to move on to another label. At the time, however, the changing music scene made it difficult for established jazz musicians to get signed to other labels, so he stayed with Fantasy for a few more years as he really had offers. Once he was without a label, he recorded Huracán, the direct-to-disc LP he recorded for Crystal Clear Records (featured in Part Three of our Cal Tjader series).

As he was already a participant at the Festival and friends with founder Carl Jefferson, signing with Concord was a good move. While Concord didn’t have the distribution or budget of larger labels, the royalty structure was better, and the label more jazz- friendly than the larger labels. Tjader had impressed Jefferson so much over the years that Jefferson created the Concord Picante label for Tjader’s Latin jazz recordings, as well as other Latin artists who would sign with the label in years to come. Tjader’s first album for Concord Picante was La Onda Va Bien. The members of his working band took part in this album as well as most of the others that followed – Mark Levine (), Robb Fisher (bass), Vince Lateano (drums), Roger Glenn (flute) and (, percussion). Gary Foster (flute, ) would appear on some of the later recordings. La Onda Va Bien opens with a new version of a tune he covered in 1961, “Speak Low,” which alternated between sections of 6/4 and 4/4 time. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8KYOVWloU6A

The fiery mambos were not left behind either, as witnessed on “Mambo Mindoro.” These two tunes helped the album win a Grammy in 1980 for Best Latin Album. (A Best Latin Jazz category would not appear at the Grammys until 1995.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7v5aObXeTZo

The follow-up studio album Gozame! Pero Ya… opened with “Shoshana,” penned by the group’s pianist, Mark Levine. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07a_fnZz5-4

A subdued album, The Shining Sea featured Tjader with his then-current drummer Vince Lateano, along with Dean Reilly on bass, Hank Jones on piano and Scott Hamilton on tenor. Not feeling too well at the time, Tjader returned to the studio at a later time to overdub some of his solos. A unique 7/4 of “Theme From M*A*S*H” closes out the album. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIiOEN8FJ50

The live album A Fuego Vivo, recorded at the Great American Music Hall in in 1981 with his working band, features “Mindanao,” the third tune Tjader composed based on islands in the Philippines, where he was stationed in World War II. (The other two are “Leyte” and “Mambo Mindoro.”) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koh25JqMejc

Tjader and his band were also captured at the Concord Jazz Festival, with the title tune from his posthumous album release, Good Vibes, featured here. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PuvYnCx8xEs

The final album Tjader recorded under his own name was the album Heat Wave, with Carmen McRae. She was known to be difficult to work with, and she and Tjader ended up butting heads while making this album. Since Tjader was low on energy at this point, he had his band record the tracks with McRae, and recorded his parts at a later time. This tune, “Upside Down,” was originally “Flor de Lis” from Brazilian composer, musician and vocalist Djavan’s debut album in 1976 (A Voz, O Violão, A Música de Djavan). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSOmpLbgBiM

At Concord, Tjader was often tapped to back other artists on the Concord roster. He and his group recorded two albums backing Rosemary Clooney: With Love (Concord Records, 1980) and Sings the Music of in 1982. He also participated on the album Seven Stars with Japanese clarinetist Eiji Kitamura. Another lesser-known vocalist, Anli Sugano (also from Japan), recorded an album for Concord called Love Sketch, which Tjader also contributed to. Here is Sugano’s original, “Tramp,” from that album. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aytIA2CuPWk

The Anli Sugano album was Tjader’s last recording session. Due to a lifestyle that included decades of alcohol and cigarettes, Cal Tjader passed away on May 5, 1982 at 56 years of age, after suffering three massive heart attacks in a hospital in Manila. Tjader and his entourage had arrived in Manila two days prior, and the group was scheduled to play three gigs on May 7 through May 9. Tjader was also accompanied by his wife Pat and his daughter Elizabeth (AKA “Liz Anne”), as well as his friend Jimmy Lyons and his wife.

His health issues began to catch up to him around the time he and the band were recording La Onda Va Bien, the first Concord Picante album. He’d had health scares earlier, but just after wrapping up recording the album, he suffered his first heart attack and was given instructions to stop smoking and drinking, and take a break. During his eight-month sabbatical, he entered a clinic to help get his drinking problem under control. He did give up smoking, but ended up slipping back into indulging in a few drinks a year or so later. At the time, he was diagnosed with mitral valve prolapse, which would lead to a second heart attack, and then, in Manila, the three massive heart attacks that would claim his life.

“How can two gringos know how to play my music?!”

--Willie Bobo

Aside from the friends and family he left behind, his legacy is such that he was well known for having devoted his career to bringing Latin rhythms from many parts of South America to jazz aficionados around the world. He nurtured and encouraged the many sidemen who would be part of his groups over the years. They were a who’s who of Latin musicians including Mongo Santamaria, Poncho Sanchez, Willie Lobo, Armando Perraza, Eddie and Manuel Duran, and many other jazz musicians who got their start in Tjader’s groups over the years.

Tjader’s flexible musical talents included drums, the vibraphone, and other Latin percussion, as well as being a capable arranger and evocative composer. Unfortunately, a career- long habit of downplaying his own talents may have led to many jazz fans overlooking his work today. Hopefully this series has been helpful in highlighting his recordings.

Click here for a Qobuz playlist with selections from his Concord Picante years... https://open.qobuz.com/playlist/6510134

…and here for a YouTube playlist, with a couple of bonus tracks not available on Qobuz. The Best Tracks of 2021 (So Far)

BE HERE NOW Written by Cliff Chenfeld

We are more than halfway through 2021 and its been a great year for new music. Today, I’ll highlight a few of the best tracks of 2021.

Some are by artists who I’m very familiar with, while others are recordings that I enjoy with little context or knowledge. Sort of the way we often listen to music these days. All can be found on this Be Here Now playlist, which includes songs from all the artists mentioned in this column and many more. Here is a link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wP2igLLqtR2lE9xz2LZds?si=98TccKASQMWhi8C5s0DbYA

Top Tracks

Tempesst, “High On My Own” – A paean to the joys of exploration, enhanced by an exhilarating, half- time chorus that opens up like a time lapse video of a flower blooming.

The War On Drugs, “Pain (live)” – We’ve been waiting four years for a new album from The War on Drugs, one of the truly compelling bands of the 21st century. The good news is that new music is on the way this fall. In the meantime, enjoy this track from their excellent live set released earlier this year.

Lord Huron, “Mine Forever” – The indie-folk staple’s new album Long Lost is one of the best of the year. This mysterious, spaghetti-western-laced track would have fit perfectly in the movie Once Upon A Time in Hollywood. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOz3VJD4L0o

Celeste, “Stop This Flame” – She’s a new Brit star who makes soulful, sometimes diva-style with hints of . https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UE3sTF3oj6w

St. Vincent, “Down and Out Downtown” – St. Vincent is the contemporary David Byrne (unless David Byrne is still the contemporary David Byrne). Her 2017 album Masseduction was one of the best of the decade. Her new album, Daddy’s Home, is a gauzy trip influenced by 1970s soul and and this bleary morning-after track is a highlight.

Aaron Frazier, “Bad News” – This is fresh retro soul, with plenty of all-falsetto ear candy.

Iceage, “Shelter Song” – This Danish rock band plays every song like it will be their last. They have a powerful new album out, Seek Shelter, and this lead track adds a spiritual, gospel sheen to their punk ethos. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_n6gT24h_k

Japanese Breakfast, “Paprika” – Michelle Zauner, who leads Japanese Breakfast, is one of the most intriguing musicians to break through in recent years. She recently authored a memoir that made ’ nonfiction bestseller list, and she bridges the gap between indie rock and as well as anyone. This infectious track from her new record, Jubilee, is pure pop pleasure layered with horns and synths.

Curtis Harding, “Hopeful”– it’s a timely, optimistic protest anthem with horns, strings, huge background church vocals and Isley Brothers-style guitar from this underrated contemporary soul singer. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vIxrC3rkY9Q

Morgan Wade, “Wilder Days” -- While much of commercial country radio can feel saccharine and sound like it was manufactured on an assembly line, there remains a vibrant alt-country world led by the likes of Jason Isbell and others. Morgan Wade’s new song has the authentic, honest vibe that fits with the best of the genre. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iK4u95thQn0

Follow Cliff on social media: Instagram: @cchenfeld : @ChenfeldCliff

Header image: Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast. Courtesy of Wikipedia/David Lee. Some Notable Analog Recordings, Part Two

DEEP DIVE Written by Adrian Wu

In Part One (Issue 141), Adrian looked at vinyl versus tape playback, the record-manufacturing process, and one of his favorite recordings, the Lyrita Recorded Edition LP of Malcolm Arnold and the Philharmonic Orchestra’s English, Scottish and Cornish Dances. The series continues here.

Bridge Phantasm/Moeran Rhapsody Lyrita Recorded Edition SRCS 91

I don't honestly remember whether I had ever listened to this LP before last week. If I had, it should have left an impression on me, as it is indeed impressive. I probably never went through all the LPs after receiving the shipment that contained this album at the time, and this one has been sitting on the shelf unplayed for more than 30 years. Both works on the album are single-movement pieces with a piano and a full orchestra, and are modernist in style. They are not like piano concertos insofar as the piano is part of the ensemble, not a soloist with an accompanying orchestra.

I prefer the Bridge Phantasm, and although the music sounds abstract at first blush, it grows on you. The recording is impressive right from the first note. It has some of the most realistic piano sounds I have heard on a record. The piano has the widest dynamic range of all acoustic instruments, and if it is miked closely to capture the dynamic impact, the loud notes can sound hard, and the natural ambiance is also sacrificed. The piano on this recording has and impact of the real instrument (and a majestic one) as heard in a concert hall, with the natural decay of the notes well-captured. The notes sound natural and liquid right up to the loudest passages, and there are plenty of these. The orchestra has impressive, even explosive dynamics, and the low end is incisive and clean, better than the Arnold LP above.

What is most striking is the sense of space. There is impressive stage width and especially depth. The instruments have great clarity and presence, with each instrument bathing in its own halo of ambience. This is the mark of a great concert hall, and the characteristic that struck me the most when I attended a concert at the Golden Hall of the Musikverein in Vienna for the first time. There are haunting passages with distant drums and horns in the background supporting string and woodwind solos in turn, and the sense of depth and the reverberant soundfield give one an eerie sense of being in a dream.

This is one instance where the full capacity of a sound system is taxed to the maximum in order to express the intent of the composer. Noise floor, microdynamics, imaging and frequency extension all come into play. The piece is most dramatic towards the end, and even though it is cut quite close to the center of the record, I did not hear any distortion or compression. This is truly a demonstration- quality recording. You should be able to find a clean copy for less than 10 bucks on Discogs.

Yo-Yo Ma, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Vernon Handley – Finzi Cello Concerto Lyrita Recorded Edition SRCS 112

If you take a poll of music lovers and ask them to choose the greatest English cello concerti, significant numbers will vote for Elgar, Walton or Britten. The Elgar cello concerto launched the spectacular career of Jacqueline du Pré, which was tragically cut short by multiple sclerosis, and her recording with Sir John Barbirolli has never been out of the EMI catalog during the past 56 years. If you take the same poll with professional cellists, however, the Finzi will garner many votes, and perhaps even eclipse the other three.

This LP was apparently the first commercial recording for the then 24-year-old Yo-Yo Ma, and is still considered the best recording of this work. Coincidentally, both the concerto and the soloist were born in 1955. This piece requires virtuosity, which Ma possessed in abundance, not for its own sake but only in the service of the music. This was the last major work of the composer, written when he was terminally ill at the age of 54. It was also the last piece of music he heard (on a radio broadcast) before passing away the following day. It therefore has an extra depth and poignancy compared to his earlier works.

Cello concertos tend to be less spectacular as hi-fi showpieces, since the orchestral part has to balance the solo instrument, which has a narrower dynamic range than a piano, and the lower range of the instrument compared to a violin means it is less able to cut through thick musical textures. On the other hand, the cello most closely resembles the human voice, allowing the soloist a greater palette of tone color to work with.

One cannot help but compare this recording with that of the du Pré Elgar concerto, recorded fourteen years earlier. The Elgar has the soloist more upfront, perhaps to serve her outsized personality. Du Pré played with abandon, throwing caution to the wind, resulting in an exhilarating performance.

This recording has a more realistic balance between the soloist and the orchestra, and Ma's playing was more cautious and restrained. The soundstage is narrower than the two recordings previously mentioned, but the instruments have good separation and the image has moderate depth. The tone of the cello is realistic and colorful, with just the right amount of bite. I remember playing back some session tapes of violin recordings I made to some audiophile friends, and they were shocked how raw a violin can sound when recorded up close. Many recordings try to make the string instruments sound smooth, losing their characters in the process. It is not easy to find the right balance.

The second movement is hauntingly beautiful, at times meditative. The young soloist already had the superb control that is his trademark, playing with expressiveness and a ravishing tone. However, a musician with just two decades of life experience can hardly be expected to do justice to a piece written by someone whose days were numbered, expressing all the regrets of life, all the unfulfilled promises, all the missed opportunities, and the anger of being robbed of the decades ahead. I wonder how Ma would play this piece today, assuming he is still interested in playing "classical" music.

The final movement finally has some fireworks. It starts with pizzicato strings and percussion, and the soundstage opens up when the brass and tympani join in. The trademark Decca sound becomes evident, with an expansive soundstage and explosive dynamics, albeit in lower doses than the two recordings discussed previously. This recording is less impressive in a “hi-fi” sense, but still significant since it is a rarely-recorded, and even less-often-performed piece that in my view is unjustly neglected. It is also the first recorded work of a major artist of our generation. And it is one of the best recordings of the genre. As an aside, the oldest son of the composer, Christopher Finzi, was the husband of Jacqueline du Pré's older sister Hilary. According to Hilary, her husband had an affair with Jacqueline, and became quite abusive towards the end of Jacqueline's life. Somehow, du Pré never recorded the Finzi concerto, and she was too disabled to play by the time this recording was made. Her famous Davidov Stradivarius cello was passed on to Yo-Yo Ma upon her death.

This LP is more expensive due to the rarity of the music, at up to $80 on Discogs.

London Philharmonic Orchestra – Holst, A Somerset Rhapsody/Hammersmith/Scherzo/Beni Mora Lyrita Recorded Edition SRCS 56

Gustav Holst is most well-known for his suite The Planets, and audiophiles are blessed with an abundance of excellent recordings of this piece, which should be the subject of an article all on its own. Holst was very prolific and it is a joy to discover some of his relatively neglected oeuvres, which contain many pleasant surprises. The four compositions in this compilation span from the beginning to the end of his career, and show an interesting contrast in style. A Somerset Rhapsody is a set of short pieces based on the folksongs of Somerset. The mood is idyllic and calm, and there are beautiful tunes played by solo instruments, especially the . But there are more energetic passages as well, including a march employing woodwinds and brass.

Hammersmith is one of Holst's late works. It is a soundscape of wind instruments that depicts the scenes of the Hammersmith district of London, starting with a brooding introduction describing the Thames river in a foggy morning (London was extremely polluted during the first half of the 20th Century), with fog horns and all. The music becomes more energetic as the city wakes up and activities pick up. The orchestration is innovative, with the interplay of different instruments weaving in and out, like different characters passing by the district over the course of the day. The recording has impressive dynamic contrasts and scale. The tone of the different wind instruments is a good test of a system's resolution.

The Beni Mora is a three-movement piece inspired by the music the composer heard while traveling in Algeria. It is an exotic composition with Middle Eastern flavors. Again, there are passages with explosive dynamics, and quiet passages with delicate musical texture. The second movement has a continuous drum beat in the background in 5/4 time that should sound distant but well-defined even at low volume. The music is quite atmospheric, and the system needs to have good low-level resolution and microdynamics to successfully create this atmosphere. This quality carries over to the final movement, dominated by a four-note motif played repeatedly by various woodwind instruments. The sound goes from ppp to fff, again with impressive dynamics and scale, especially at the climaxes where the tympani has the weight and scale of the best "audiophile approved" recordings.

The Planets suite is a favorite demonstration recording, but the music gets a bit old with repeated playing. This LP should make a nice change, and can be picked up for around 10 bucks.

This is by no means an exhaustive survey of the Lyrita catalog, as I only have a limited number of recordings on hand. Even so, I have been impressed by what I heard. The records are generally well made, with quiet surfaces, and the quality of the recordings are consistent with the best Decca has to offer in some cases. There are many hidden gems waiting to be discovered. Sadly, I have not been able to find these recordings on the streaming services, but you can sample some of the pieces on Lyrita's website, and even order the CDs directly there. Another Decca-related label worth considering is Argo, but this will be the subject of another article.

Header image: Gustav Holst. The Animals: Don’t Let Them Be Misunderstood

OFF THE CHARTS Written by Anne E. Johnson

In the town of in northeast , keyboardist invited the energetic and big-throated to sing with his Alan Price Combo. This was 1962, and within two years the band had moved to London and caught the first wave of the . They called themselves The Animals.

Unlike most of that onslaught of British rock talent, at least among the bands still considered significant, The Animals focused on covers rather than on original material. But the music-lovers of Britain weren’t very familiar with traditional American numbers like “The House of the Rising Sun,” and American listeners had never heard Brit rockers sing , so there was still excitement on all sides.

Their first album after they signed with MGM was called The Animals (1964). Right out of the gate, they took the UK and US by storm with “House of the Rising Sun,” which they had started performing while touring as the opening act for ; the audience reaction inspired them to include it on their debut record.

The lineup at the time, besides Burdon and Price, was on guitar, on bass, and on drums. They chose a wonderful collection of -based numbers, including songs by Berry, John Lee Hooker, and Fats Domino. Berry’s “Memphis, Tennessee” demonstrates their confident and distinctive hand with this material. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z98GLQr8bIw

In 1965, The Animals on Tour was released in the US, while Animal Tracks came out in the UK. The majority of the songs are the same, although ordered differently. Among them was the hit single “I’m Crying,” which did well on of the pond. Like the first album, these two were produced by , a go-to guy for British acts in the 1960s, creating hits for , The Group, and Herman’s Hermits.

A couple of the songs only appear on the UK release. One of those is “Roberta.” The raggedy edge of their recording of this 12-bar blues by Al Smith gives it an authentic, magnetic kick. Valentine contributes a short but terrific guitar lick. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9P1sCQjFA3g

Around this time, The Animals also had a huge hit with “Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood,” a cover of a song written for . But Burdon and company were getting tired of Most choosing all their material. They wanted more control and a chance to write for themselves.

Animalisms (1966) and its American equivalent, , were the result of a renegotiation with MGM to get them a new producer, Tom Wilson, who made a name for himself working with , Simon and Garfunkel, and the Velvet Underground. But the bigger change for the band was the loss of founder and keyboardist Alan Price, who left for a solo career. He was replaced on keyboards and organ by Dave Rowberry. Halfway through the recording sessions, drummer John Steel quit, so plays on three tracks.

The album’s big single was “Don’t Bring Me Down,” written by and Carole King. A look at the track lists on both American and British versions, however, shows a fair number of band- composed songs for the first time. “She’ll Return It,” credited to Rowberry and Burdon, captures the sardonic humor that characterizes a lot of blues and found its way into the British rock vernacular. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EkHvtvqocvg

The last time an Animals album made the Top 40 was a US-only Animalism (1966, not to be confused with the unrelated British release, , mentioned above). The band brought in a host of session musicians to bolster their sound on bluesy classics like Percy Mayfield’s “Hit the Road, Jack,” ’s “Lucille,” and Chester Burnett’s “Smokestack Lightning.”

Frank Zappa sang and played guitar on his own song, “All Night Long.” He also a provided a funky bass guitar line on “The Other Side of Life,” by Brill Building regular Fred Neil. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WcyMs5fb4Go

The most surprising record ever to bear The Animals’ name is . Made in 1967, this is actually a solo album by Burdon accompanied by two big bands: the Orchestra and the Orchestra. Jenkins does play drums, which apparently was enough to justify the band’s name on the cover. This release was a ploy by Decca, The Animals’ British label, to distract from the fact that the group had split up and was trying to rebuild itself.

And rebuild it did. They got a new manager, since their old one chronically mishandled their money. Only Burdon and Jenkins stuck around, so they added on guitar and violin, on guitar and piano, and Danny McCulloch on bass. And, crucially, they all relocated to California; The Animals, now officially called Eric Burdon & The Animals, became a psychedelic band.

The appropriately titled Winds of Change (1967) announced this new sound with atmospheric effects and spoken word meditations, hardly the stuff of . All but one of the tracks are originals. The only exception is Jagger/Richards’ “.” An interesting piece of music history lies in Burdon’s song “Yes, I Am Experienced.” It is an answer to the question posed by his friend, , even though “?” was yet to be released to the public. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njO0Bk0a1-U

The first of the three albums put out by Eric Burdon & The Animals in 1968 was . It produced the hit “Sky Pilot,” about the Vietnam War, which reached the No. 14 spot on the US charts, despite being so long that it had to be split over both sides of the 45 rpm disc. Also on that album is the free-for-all “All Is One,” strange both for its lyrics and its instrumentation; the bagpiper is uncredited.

Hammond organist (who had not yet changed his name from George Bruno) joined as a sixth bandmember for (1968). Guitarist Weider gets the writing credit for the jazzy, Spanish-influenced “Serenade to a Sweet Lady,” unusual among Animals tracks for being purely an instrumental. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8tm3DV4ons

Love Is was their monster project of 1968. McCulloch had left, so Money stepped in on bass. The record was released as a double LP, with Side D offering material originally written for Money and ’ former band, Dantalian’s Chariot. Summers (yes, the one from ) plays on this album, marking the only time he recorded with The Animals.

One of the Money/Summers songs is “The Madman.” The high-arching melodic style is completely different from what The Animals usually played, and the complexity of the arrangement is closer to prog rock than psychedelia. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLt_OskWhJI

Although the new iteration of The Animals was a success commercially, the band fell apart. A major factor was a disastrous tour of Japan, during which their tour manager was briefly kidnapped by , and they had to flee so quickly that they left their equipment behind. But that insane adventure was just the icing on the cake for a bunch of guys ready to go their separate ways. Burdon immediately took a job as the frontman of the band War.

But The Animals were not finished. In 1975, Burdon reassembled with Price, Valentine, Chandler, and Steel, and called the resultant album Before We Were So Rudely Interrupted (1977). This was the first time they had all recorded together since Price had left in 1965.

Besides the lineup itself, they also returned to their musical roots. “As the Crow Flies” was written by American blues guitarist , who died right around the time they recorded this, so perhaps it was a tribute. Valentine goes for the essence of Reed’s guitar style without the flashes of high-speed ornaments for which the bluesman was famous. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kfVI2AcK98o

It was a short reunion, followed by another one-album stint in 1983, which produced Ark. Since then, Valentine, Steel, McCulloch and Rowberry have been variously involved in groups that toured or recorded under the Animals name. (Sadly, Valentine passed away in January 2021.) Even Burdon revived the name, and he continues to perform as the head of Eric Burdon & The Animals. And you can be sure that, at every show, they sing about a certain place in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun.

Header image: the Animals, circa 1964: Eric Burdon, Alan Price, Chas Chandler, Hilton Valentine and John Steel. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons/Richard William Laws. The Giants of Tape, Part Nine: The Telefunken M15A, Part Three

REVOLUTIONS PER MINUTE Written by J.I. Agnew

Part One and Part Two of J.I. Agnew’s look at the Telefunken M15A tape machine ran in Issue 140 and Issue 141. The series continues here.

The Telefunken M15A could be purchased as a bare chassis with no cabinet or trolley. In this configuration, the 1/4-inch stereo machines, being the lightest-weight offerings, weighed around 150 lbs. I am still unsure if this was intended as some kind of joke, but the Telefunken brochures advertised a huge suitcase with a single carrying handle on top, in which the M15A chassis could be bolted, to make a “portable” tape recording deck. The suitcase was as heavily built as the M15A itself, and must have weighed at least 100 lbs. empty, so the combination would have been 250 lbs., to be carried by a single carrying handle. Not sure what kind of people worked in the broadcasting sector or as news reporters in Germany in the 1970s, but if this was really intended as a competitor to the Uher and Nagra portable tape recorders, it probably missed the target for weight and size by an astoundingly enormous margin. Even if people of the required build could be found among the elite ranks of the special forces of German Broadcasting who would be able to lift this thing, it certainly wouldn't fit in their 1970s Volkswagen.

Not only was the M15A large and heavy even as a bare chassis, it also came with nothing but the absolute minimum of features and functions. It was minimalism at its finest, with a distinct Bauhaus aesthetic which almost begs for it to be used as a coffee table, or perhaps with a pillow on top as an ottoman. The basic machine comes with a Play, Stop and Wind button. Yes, a single wind button; no separate Fast Forward and Rewind buttons, but one button for both. There is a lever next to the button to control the winding direction and speed. It is rather unusual, but once you get used to this, it is extremely handy. In fact, it is a feature I miss every time I work on a different machine. You can set up a very slow wind in either direction and leave it there to slowly get to the end of a particularly fragile reel of tape, or you can put the lever in the middle to stop the tape while remaining in wind mode, which allows you to slowly jog the tape forwards and backwards, to locate a splice or any other feature of interest.

What looks like a speed selector button is only an indicator lamp. The speed selector switch is hidden under the hinged splicing block (which in itself leaves a lot to be desired; I always use an external aluminum splicing block for critical editing work) along with the power switch and a local/remote switch, which locks out the remote control so that it cannot be used, I guess for that occasion when someone has had too much schnapps for their own good, and you need to make it to the end of the session without offending them by taking the remote control out of their hands and without any obvious hints on how it could be made to work again. (“Ah, don't worry about it Fritz, it probably broke, we'll fix it some other time.”) The meter for keeping track of hours is also under the splicing block, to ensure you will not forget the routine maintenance as soon as the number of hours for the required maintenance interval are clocked. Near the splicing block, on the top panel of the machine, there is also a round edit switch, and this is about all there is to it, together with the counter (displaying tape time in HH:MM:SS) and a counter reset button.

No and whistles, nothing other than the essentials for operating a tape machine. This is not to say that you couldn't have bells and whistles on your Telefunken; just that they were not built into the basic model. Instead, the company offered a huge selection of extras, optional accessories that came as modules, to be installed in a variety of cabinets, all compatible with German industrial standards (DIN-specification racks, instead of the standard 19-inch racks used in studios and broadcasting facilities in the entire rest of the world). You could get a VU meter bridge, a remote control with separate Fast Forward and Rewind buttons, a fully featured autolocator with location memories, a varispeed module offering a +/- 50% variation in speed by means of a fader, various editing gadgets, an impressive selection of timecode-related modules which were popular in broadcasting, and even a little shelf to place your notes on.

Once you had selected a variety of these accessories along with one of the industrial-styled trolleys for the transport, you then had to run this by your structural engineer to ensure that the floor wouldn't collapse under the weight. Just as an indication, the 32-track machine without any of the optional extras weighed a bit over 550 lbs. after the shipping pallet and rest of the packaging had been removed. Unsurprisingly, these machines were rugged and reliable workhorses, intended for 24/7 operation in professional environments. They needed very little maintenance; they did not drift out of adjustment even after prolonged heavy use, and they just lasted forever.

The M15A is by far one of the best sounding tape machines of all time and at the same time, one of the most indestructible. As such, it is by far my all-time-favorite tape deck. I own two of them, modified to identical specs and currently wearing a set of special butterfly heads that far exceed the performance of the Telefunken originals. The heads were manufactured by Studer in Switzerland, back when they were still making heads, but they are not meant to fit any Studer machine. These were made specifically as high-performance aftermarket heads for the Telefunken M15A, with electrical specs to match the Telefunken electronics.

I use them both for recording straight to stereo and also for disk mastering from tape, entirely in the analog domain. Having had the pleasure of working with many of the world's finest tape machines over the years, the M15A was love at first sight. I actually hadn't even heard of it, several years into my career, as everyone was talking about the Studers, Ampex, MCI and other common brands. Telefunkens were never widely adopted by recording studios and are almost unheard of outside the German-speaking world. Up until one day – a friend found one in very poor condition and I had a chance to look at the very detailed documentation and sales literature. I was astonished by the design, minimalistic yet highly effective in achieving utmost performance without needing to be babied. Since then, I have been converted, and bought two of these as soon as I could find them (in international configuration of course).

While the Telefunken M15A was a standard item of equipment in German broadcasting stations and also encountered in German recording and mastering facilities, they were hugely unsuccessful in the international market. Even within Europe, both in recording/mastering studios and broadcasting, the M15A never really caught on.

In the USA these machines are extremely rare and even many experienced audio professionals have never seen or heard of them. Parts are scarce, and you can pretty much forget about Telefunken supporting them nowadays. The German-configuration machines are now cheap and plentiful in Germany as nobody really wants them, but for the same reason, they are usually incomplete, abused, or improperly stored, and would require quite a bit of work to get them going again. International- configuration machines in working condition usually sell for anywhere between USD $4,000 and $12,000, depending on configuration.

Once you get one to run well, it will most probably far outlive you with very minimal care, and reward you with a level of sound quality you would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere. There are no offerings on the market for vacuum tube electronics specifically intended to work with the M15A, but this is something I have been thinking about for a while now. As soon as time permits... However, if you would prefer not to mess with conversions and external electronics, the stock electronics are truly excellent.

In the next episode, we will look at a rare Telefunken M15A preview head machine in active professional service, located at one of the few disk mastering facilities left in the world that can cut records from the tape entirely in the analog domain.

Header image: from an original Telefunken M15A product brochure. Tom Waits: Our Beat Storyteller, Part Two

MUSIC TO MY EARS Written by WL Woodward

In the late 1960s Tom Waits decided he wanted a career in music because he couldn’t think of anything else he could be good at. I believe that to be a common story for musicians, maybe even lawyers. He was living in but the clubs were dead ends. He knew the scene was in Los Angeles, so he began taking the bus up to hooting sessions at the Troubadour.

We’ve probably all been to hoot nights. As soon as you learn more than two songs, you hang out at open mike nights to get your big break. That practically never happens, but what does happen is that you discover the nuances, frights and sweats of playing for an audience who couldn’t care less. You have to capture them.

Hoot night at the Troubadour meant taking a bus every Monday from San Diego to LA, getting off downtown and taking the local to West Hollywood. You arrived at 10 am to wait in line all day with a sax player tripping on acid, a mariachi band, and 13 girls with imitation Martin guitars waiting to become the next .

If you were lucky and early enough you’d get in to do maybe four songs. The Troubadour was already a club known to be a hotbed for talent, so the experience must have been nerve-wracking. But fortunately for Tom, the clientele, especially on Monday nights, fitted Waits’ persona. These were the old folkie/leftover Beats that would become a strong core of Waits’ retinue.

Herb Cohen caught his act one night and signed him. Cohen was a personal manager and who at different times managed Linda Ronstadt, , , and the Turtles. Funny. In my previous draft, Word’s spell correct changed “managed” to “mangled.” OK, maybe.

One of Cohen’s attempts was to send Waits on a Zappa tour. Apparently the audience reaction was...unkind. Waits would express that the best part of the tour was that he never starved because the audience kept throwing produce at him.

In 1972 Waits was back at the Troubadour. David Geffen came in and intended to stay for one song, loved it, and stayed for the set. Afterwards, Geffen approached Waits and offered him a record contract. Tom replied that he’d have to have his manager (Cohen) call him. Geffen knew Cohen and knew he had a record company, so he forgot the encounter.

To Geffen’s surprise, Cohen did call and offered Geffen a deal for Waits. The result was Waits’ first album, Closing Time on .

Jerry Yester from the Lovin’ Spoonful had heard a verson of Waits’ “Grapefruit Moon” and was floored by it. When an opportunity to produce Closing Time arose he snatched it.

The tracks featured a cleaner Waits voice than what would become gruff later. We featured a link to “I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love With You” in Part One of this story (Issue 139) Let’s do the song that impressed Cohen and Yester. The first got Waits signed to a record contract and the second resulted in his first album. https://youtu.be/7bpZjkjo3Tw

The title track was thrown together on a Sunday afternoon with guys they could find. Yester later related it was “one of those magical sessions that happens once in a great while” where no one wants to go home. They listened to it for three hours afterwards.

For all of you who only know Tom Waits for his bawdy barroom hooker tunes, here is 23-year-old Waits on his first album doing an instrumental with Jesse Ehrlich on cello, Árni Egilsson on bass and Tony Terran on trumpet, recording “Closing Time” live to tape. https://youtu.be/ZGWJ5XiwbV0

Waits’ next, The Heart of Saturday Night (1974) evokes Sinatra’s work, and the picture on the front is an homage to In the Wee Small Hours. The critics panned the album but it went gold in the UK. Figures. The title track was purported to be an homage to one of Waits’ heroes, Jack Kerouac.

The album marks the debut of as producer, a collaboration that would continue as long as Waits recorded for Asylum.

Check out this lyric on “San Diego Serenade.” https://youtu.be/7hbC-_79p7I

This is “Diamonds On My Windshield.” https://youtu.be/jJdHaMH9YJQ

Second album and writing like dat. Ain’t right.

Touring for the album didn’t make life easier. Waits actually was billed at one point with Buffalo Bob and Howdy Doody, at which point Waits considered running over his agent with a tractor.

On the next turn around the sun Waits released Nighthawks at the Diner (1975). Waits and Howe wanted to record a live gig, but the logistics were hard since Waits usually did clubs solo. They rented the back room of the , which had a large seating area and a glass booth for the recording equipment. The entire event was set up, with invited guests and assorted alcoholic encouragements. Four shows were planned for the last two days of July 1975, and were completely sold out.

Waits did a lot of set up banter for the songs, much of which was included in the final tracks. The recorded evidence shows Waits had really developed his stage persona, with a joking, rambling, Beat rhetoric that was reminiscent of a Charles Bukowski poem or a routine. https://youtu.be/ORCLfN1yNYk

You have to love the band vamping during the monologues. Cool as an iceman’s handshake.

This one is Waits alone vamping while he tells a story about taking himself out on a date. https://youtu.be/pvhT93Dmm3o

Nighthawks had moderate success, topping at No.164 on the Billboard Top 200. However, Waits was not enjoying touring and first started trying to get into films at this point. He lost out to David Carradine for a film about Woody Guthrie, but later did have critical acclaim in Sylvester Stallone’s Paradise Alley.

Waits was booked for a series of dates in Europe which revitalized him. The European press loved his style, his stories and his seemingly endless string of one-liners. At the same time, Waits was enthralled with telling these stories to a rapt audience of journalists. Everyone was having a ball.

After that tour, Tom had worked up material for a new album and a new direction in some ways. Small Change (1976) hit a little harder at the underbelly of life on skid row. The album starts out with “Tom Traubert’s Blues,” which he still uses to close shows. In it Waits tells of being stranded and penniless in a foreign country.

Howe tells of getting a phone call from Waits in the middle of the night to tell him of this new song Waits had written. Bones recalls:

“He said the most wonderful thing about writing that song. He called me up and said, ‘I went down to skid row, and I bought a pint of rye in a brown paper bag. Yeah, hunkered down, drank the pint of rye, went home, threw up and wrote ‘Tom Traubert’s Blues.’” Then he said, ‘You know, every guy down there, everyone I spoke to, a woman put him there.’”

A lyric note here: “Matilda” is Australian slang for “backpack,” and “Waltzing Matilda” means being on the road. I’ll bet you didn’t know dat sh*t. https://youtu.be/X9rmGay0epo

The album is full of masterpieces, and is a favorite of many including my son Dean. But life on the road was hitting Waits hard as he was drinking more and more and eating badly. He himself looked back and said he was sick all the time. He had a line about the road, “There’s a lifestyle that’s there before you arrive, and you get introduced to it. It’s unavoidable.” https://youtu.be/3rzTuh202fA

Small Change, with a jazz ensemble that included Shelley Manne on drums, was more successful, topping at number 89 on Billboard, but it dropped off the charts completely two weeks later.

The success of the album helped him fund a real touring band, the Nocturnal Emissions, which he took on the road to the US, Germany, Holland and Japan.

Foreign Affairs, released in 1977, was imagined to be a film noir direction with more stories of life on the dark side, including an ode to Neal Cassady and Jack Kerouac blasting and boozing around the country, and a spoken piece about a blind alcoholic snitch in a piece called “Potter’s Field.” https://youtu.be/aUPD5d9DuFM

Raymond Chandler is lurking in the background somewhere.

The album had a tough time on the market, but in the meantime, Waits had met and recorded with . The Divine Miss M did a duet with Tom, and she used the song again on a release of her own. This song, “I Never Talk to Strangers,” has been described as a sequel to “Hope I Don’t Fall in Love With You” from Closing Time. https://youtu.be/uctxOZEusuI

By 1978 Waits had started hanging out with his sometimes friend/sometimes girlfriend , and she enjoyed when he did show tunes. He used “Somewhere” from West Side Story to open his sixth album, Blue Valentine. Meanwhile, Waits continued and accelerated the hard-edge detective themes here. https://youtu.be/iGFAyZtI-YM

‘Whistlin’ Past the Graveyard.” An old concept resurrected. https://youtu.be/1Uo1G2Lb2EQ

“I never told the truth so I could never tell a lie.” Yeah.

Halfway through Blue Valentine he disbanded the Nocturnal Emissions and re-formed around some more-standard musicians like , which set up (1980). Waits had met his future bride, , who helped clean him up and got him motivated. He’d moved out of the Tropicana hotel, a notorious musicians’ dive hangout where he’d been living previously, and into the RCA Records studio, where he pushed himself to perfect the album, sometimes writing a song every night so that the band would have something to work on in the morning.

The result is my favorite of his. A great deal of that love comes from this being the first Waits album I bought, but in researching all his albums for this series I’m throwing down the gauntlet. My peerless readers, the power of these songs outlines an artist that has brought brilliance to the back door.

Waits says the name of the title track came when he was sitting in a bar on Hollywood and Vine. I think I know this bar. A woman walked in with old clothes and a cane. Waits could tell she was flushed. She walked up to the bartender and told him she thought she was having a heart attack. He told her to take her troubles outside. And a song title was born. https://youtu.be/lbIi8ZiW5qI

The production value of this entire album is gorgeous and, in my view, a real departure from his earlier works. There’s a bit more polish, with tasty backing musicians used without disturbing the disturbing nature of Waits.

“On the Nickel” is a song about street boys running from home. I included a live version as an example of Waits’ continuing ability to show power in a solo performance. His soul crawls into yours and pries open hatch doors you didn’t know were there. https://youtu.be/r6V5DXk6TbA

Another album of masterpieces. Even among the craziness of songs like “Downtown” and “Mr. Siegel,” you still get the heartbreak of “Ruby’s Arms, which I believe to be his best love song and one of my favorite love songs by anybody. https://youtu.be/n11Z98o54Rw

“And if you don’t get my letter, then you know that I’m in jail.” Shiver me timbers.

This last will have my son rolling his eyes because I play this every chance I get. One of my favorite Waits lyrics, it’s especially relevant here because he wrote it for Kathleen, who was from Jersey. We’ll be talking a lot about them and their future in the next installment. https://youtu.be/XBQPchkmGCo

I’ll leave you with a piece of advice. Never recognize yourself on Hollywood and Vine. Sustaining Creativity

FEATURED Written by Russ Welton

Many years ago, I owned and ran a UK guitar shop, which my family and I had purchased as a going concern. It was a very successful and happy business which provided years of satisfaction. In many ways it was much more than just a vehicle for an income; it allowed for artistic expression and involvement with gear and instruments on a daily basis. I can genuinely say that it was never the case that I dreaded going to work.

I was extremely aware of how much I enjoyed this occupation, but also realized that one day I might very likely be required to perform some other function in life for my gainful employment that I didn’t like as much. There were days I took working in the music store for granted, but the majority of the time, I was conscious of both sides of the coin: the current reality of a job I loved and the awareness of its potential impermanence.

As it transpired, after more than a decade of retailing electric guitars, bass rigs, amplifier setups and everything related, we decided as a family that we would sell the business. Initially I had been a Saturday boy who became assistant to the manager from 1997 to 2000, at which point we had the opportunity to buy the business.

By 2010 our contracted lease would be due for renewal, but by then it was becoming more and more evident that in order to compete on an international stage, it would be more time-consuming and demanding than was practical for us. The forces of globalization, cheaper products being made more readily available to more people with greater ease than ever before, shrinking profit margins on increasingly and consistently higher-quality products, and a general decrease in the sales of electric guitars indicated to me that it would be prudent to “jump ship.” And, so, we did.

We sold the business to an expanding online-only retailer who was looking to broaden their exposure and add dealerships, which required a brick-and-mortar premises to promote. They took on the lease and continued to do very well for a subsequent decade. I was pleased to see them fly a new flag on the old flagpole. For the next decade I was comforted by the reassuring knowledge that our city of Plymouth still had a knockout guitar store!

They were great days. I genuinely loved them. During this time in musical instrument retail I had noticed a gap in the market. There was no dedicated UK magazine title for acoustic guitars. I had scoured our local newsagents for several months and it became glaringly apparent to me that there was enough passion and love for all things of an acoustic guitar nature, and that the UK should indeed produce a dedicated title to cater to this massive readership potential spanning all ages and demographics.

To that end, I suggested this idea to a publisher friend who was already producing a suite of specialist magazines, and, lo and behold! About six months later I received the very first issue of Acoustic through our guitar shop door. I was blown away by how good it looked and read. It was to be the first of a bi-monthly dedicated publication entailing CD reviews, interviews with famous musicians, product reviews including luthiers from around the country and manufacturers from around the world, and little did I know, this would eventually spawn a dedicated national London Acoustic Guitar Show on an annual basis.

After writing up and submitting a review of a gig by Tony MacAlpine, and , who had played in a local (ish) venue, I was subsequently invited to become editor of Acoustic, which afforded me my photojournalistic capacity and took me to many parts of the world covering live events and doing manufacturer interviews (large and small), factory tours and more. I then went on to take Acoustic to become a monthly publication instead of its initial bi-monthly schedule.

Rewinding back to the transition period of selling the guitar business, one of the potential buyers of our music store asked me an interesting question. He is an excellent guitar player, very technical and concise, clean, musical and fluid in his style. Unsurprisingly perhaps, his question mirrored my own thoughts about how much I enjoyed my work: “How do you stay so positive and upbeat dealing with customers when running the same business every day?”

For me the answer was obvious, and in retrospect I am particularly grateful for being able to identify one of the major sources of my retail “sticking power.” It was something that made even the most challenging days pleasurable and rewarding. What was it? It was the passion for music. And the awareness that there is no fire without fuel. Input equals output.

My love of music has been a constant source of fuel and a motivational source of energy since I was old enough to listen. Every day in the shop I had on my favorite tapes and CDs (which probably should not have been played quite so loudly). I blew out the first three sets of speakers in my first car (a Signal Green Ford Escort Mark II which in itself was a loud color), until I realized how useful it was to be able to hear the sound of the engine as it revs at different speeds, and in fact to identify that I had a blown exhaust pipe, just to add more sonic (honestly unintended) disturbance of the peace.

For me, any artistic endeavor and creative process, whether music, photography, writing or anything else, requires a certain amount of energy to be expended to produce the end result. I guess that’s kind of obvious. What may not be quite so obvious is that consistent and dependable creative output requires input. Food for the machine, fuel on the fire. So, perhaps the most important question to ask ourselves is: “What am I feeding the fires of inspiration with?”

Inspiration or Insipid?

Part of my time as a music photojournalist and magazine editor required interviewing celebrities and artists, and so one of the main, albeit clichéd, questions to ask was, “who are your influences?” We like to know and perhaps more importantly understand the sparks that light the fires of imagination and productivity in the musicians we love to listen to. But perhaps, because of this question being so commonplace, coupled with our musically-saturated world, there is a danger that the question has been diluted in its essence down to an interpretation of, “who do you like to listen to?” or in photography, “whose work do you like to look at?”

As photographers, the pitfall with such reductive thinking may be that it results in missing the critical differences between what actively inspires our work. There is a distinct value in identifying and remembering whose work lights the fires of our creative imaginations and gets us motivated, and from a practical point of view, productive, rather than becoming ever more passive observers.

Passive or Active?

With music, it’s a little bit like the difference between casually hearing and really listening to a piece of music. Hearing is passive and listening requiring a more studious disposition, particularly if you’re a musician and want to learn to play a piece of music. In photography, how you observe the world around you can be passive or active. When making images and storytelling through photography, I need both passive and activating observational visual cues.

The “passive” consistent low-level background visual stimulation is like a solid foundation that in some ways contributes to who you are, your personality and your perspective on things. which then influences your “active” picture-taking thought process. It may come from observing day-to-day life, whether people in the street as people flying past busy road intersections against a backdrop of geometric manmade objects, or in a rural environment looking at a backdrop of clouds bisecting the treeline on a hill.

Knowing yourself well enough to identify how you naturally and passively see things can allow you to put yourself in the role of an impartial “third person” outside observer when it comes to critiquing your own work.

Phuel

Then, there is what I call “phuel.” Phuel is the combined thought of what may fuel a creative project such as photography or music. To create some forethought around a produced image or music requires me to be consuming images or music that inspire me to action. Without fuel on the fire of self-ignition, the flames of creativity dwindle. Phuel may take the form of images of evocative power that are transportive and potent in their motivational contribution toward your desire to produce better work. These works are the ones I enjoy “listening to” with my eyes, in the same manner as deeply listening to or rehearsing a piece of music. “Listening with your eyes” to observe the story being told by master photographers really is a special type of emotional inspiration. We’re not burning twigs and tinder any more. Now we have a roaring fire going that is generating heat that others can share in and also be inspired by.

However, with all that said, for me, the secret of not burning the fire out completely is to not over- analyze my favourite sources of inspiration. Sometimes I don’t want to dig too deeply into a piece of music or photograph or work of art. It keeps them from becoming a burden that I feel obligated to unpick and unravel, and thereby demystify the magic that makes them unique. Sometimes it’s nice to be surprised by the magic trick and maintain its wonder rather than have it revealed to you. In this way it can serve as a touchstone to come back to time and again, to reignite your sense of wonder and creative initiative for exploration into expressing your artistic drive.

Header image: "Wembury Organic" by Russ Welton. The photo is a long exposure of the Great Mewstone, taken at Wembury Beach an hour after sunset. For more images by Russ, please visit fineartamerica.com/profiles/russell-welton. AES Show Spring 2021, Part Four: Gaming Sound, Rupert Neve

FEATURED Written by John Seetoo

As a result of COVID-19, the Audio Engineering Society’s AES Show Spring 2021, appropriately named “Global Resonance,” was conducted online from Europe. This afforded me the rare opportunity to view a number of the presentations, which would have been otherwise impossible.

This show focused more on the academic side of audio technology than the previous New York-based AES Show Fall 2020. In Part One of Copper’s AES Show Spring 2021 coverage (Issue 139), I looked at presentations on binaural audio, audio mixing for residential television viewing environments, and an analysis of differences between Western and Chinese hip-hop music. Part Two (Issue 140) focused on psychoacoustics and studies on emotional responses to sounds. Part Three (Issue 141) covered the technology side of audio/video transmission, and the efforts to achieve greater realism in sampled orchestras. This final installment will focus on sound for interactive video games, and a tribute to the late Rupert Neve.

Audio in Games and Interactive Media

As mentioned in Part One, audio for games has reached a stage where it demands as much attention and expertise as is needed for feature films. This especially holds true for virtual reality (VR) games, where the demand for binaural and 3D sonic realism has even prompted a resurgence in the use of dummy head recording platforms.

Audio in Games and Interactive Media was collaboratively presented by gaming and VR technology research scholar Katja Rogers (host), game music composer Winifred Phillips (Assassin’s Creed, God of War, The Sims), journalist Sarah Fartuun Heinze (author of several pieces on the intersection of video, art, music, and interactivity), and sound designer and composer Mathilde Hoffmann (the Unreal series). They discussed both technical and aesthetic challenges in music and sound design that are unique to video games, VR, and interactive media.

Winifred Phillips explained that composing music for interactive vs. “linear” media has significant differences. Having a beginning, middle and end, with defined moments and timing as in linear media doesn’t exist the same way in interactive media, which constantly has to change. Games give the players control over the sonic (and visual) environment, so the music has to respond to the players’ choices. Music thus has to be composed in a modular way so that it can be disassembled and reassembled dynamically depending on the players’ reactions.

She also explained about the selection of musical genres for a game project as being a key consideration for a composer. The characters and their actions in the game often will dictate the themes in the music score. However, an awareness of the psychology of the gamers also needs to be factored in, so as to successfully meet the players’ expectations while simultaneously avoiding predictability. For example, action-filled games will tend to have more aggressive music, often with a heavy metal-style score to reflect the high-energy visual content.

Mathilde Hoffmann spoke enthusiastically about the creative process in sound design and for fantasy-based games in particular. In order to create a brand new sonic world, she enjoys finding sound sources, manipulating them, and making choices between acoustic and synthesized sounds. Due to the fast pace of games, signature sounds that have maximum impact have to be found quickly, as budgets often do not allow for a slow compilation of customized, nuanced sounds. Using the creation of sounds for monsters, for example, there have to be variations in movement, footsteps and vocal sounds, depending on the mood of the game and what the monster and the players are reacting to.

Sarah Fartuun Heinze compared the different types of interactivity between attending the theater vs. playing games, with musical theater coming closer to the same functions and emotional arcs as experienced in games. She noted the genre of game theater, a style of gaming that uses elements of theater, game aesthetics, live-action role players (“larp”) and offers a mashup of all of these elements.

Hoffmann felt it was important not to let music and sound fall into predictable clichés, where the sounds almost dictate to the players what emotions they are supposed to experience, like a sitcom laugh track. Hyper-realism and subtlety work better, in her estimation, so that the sound design becomes almost transparent, and the player can fully immerse him or herself into the game world without feeling manipulated. In some cases, hearing the music and sound design of a game prior to seeing the game’s visuals can create an entirely different image in one’s mind.

She also explained how game designers use the Pavlovian familiarity response in their work. For example, high-pitched, repetitive sounds are recognized in many cultures as a warning signal, or at the very least, something that puts the listener on mental alert.

Phillips reminded the participants that communication within a game development team is crucial, because individual frames of reference can be so subjective. She insists that actual music references, rather than just verbal descriptions of music styles, be utilized whenever possible so that there is clarity in understanding, in order for all of the members of the development team to be on the same page. Case in point: Megadeth and Black Sabbath are both categorized as metal bands, but sound very different.

Getting consensus on acoustics and sounds within the development team is a must, and whatever helps the process, whether reference tracks, demo sounds and so on are all useful tools for game audio design engineers.

Phillips also pointed out that some players might spend hundreds or even thousands of hours with a game, at which point they will experience a great deal of exposure to the music and sounds. (That said, there is a trend among players to cut out the volume of the music during some games, especially shooter-based games, in order to more closely focus their concentration.) Therefore, one of the composer’s jobs is to build in enough variation so that each playing experience is both unique, yet familiar.

Along that same notion was a concern about how music can potentially reduce the immersion aspect of game playing, especially if the player dislikes the used, or if it seems too divorced from reality, as in VR games. (Note: “immersion” in the gaming context refers to the player’s engagement in the virtual game world and not to immersive 3D sound per se.) However, since games are entertainment and a controlled, guided journey hyper-reality experience, the music is a necessary identity-enhancing aspect.

The discussion concluded with a thank you to VR games, which serve as a driver for cutting-edge audio research and development. Gaming audio has become a much bigger challenge, and immersive-sound technologies like spatialized audio and binaural audio have made resurgences.

Guiding Audiences With Sound: Techniques for Interactive Games and Video

Dr. Lucy Harrison presented a fascinating workshop on interactive sound and the techniques that are used by game designers and video producers in Guiding Audiences With Sound: Techniques for Interactive Games and Video. A composer and interactive media specialist, Harrison has produced a body of interactive theater, library, art installation, and videogame work in her native UK.

Some of the challenges of interactive media include:

Narrative fragmentation; Retention of a sense of freedom by players or audiences; Keeping a “less is more” approach to instruction in order to make it more intuitive.

Harrison used Batman: Arkham Asylum as an example of an “open world” interactive game that suffers from narrative fragmentation. It has many plot layers and characters and is difficult for players who are unversed in all of the character and scenario details from the Batman canon to navigate to the different layers within the game without third-party guidance. The same problem occurs in immersive theater when there are too many narrative roads that can easily mislead audiences into different tangents, and thus miss key points and messages within the theater piece’s main theme.

At the same time, the sense of freedom and individual choice is a big appeal of interactive media. It is also crucial not to deluge gamers or audiences with voluminous instructions or heavy hand- holding, which ruin the whole exploratory experience of interactive media.

Sound design is a key tool for bridging these obstacles, as it can subliminally serve as an instructional guide. Designing sounds to trigger different listening modes, for example, will alter how gamers assimilate the content and their ability to make individual choices in the game’s interactive engagement.

Given the importance of sound and music design in the interactive experience, nothing can be accidental, and everything that can be heard should be deliberately chosen for its function in communicating information to gamers and audiences. Retaining sounds that do not contribute in this way can lead to erroneous conclusions by the gamer and audience, or worse, destroy the verisimilitude of the game or other medium in question.

Audio can also be used as an interface by which, in the case of video games, a user can be informed of status (for example, in a game where one’s avatar is injured or dying, the quality of the sound can be altered, to simulate diminished capacity). It is also important to match the sounds of the real worlds and the virtual world of the game, in order to maintain the game’s sonic “reality.” As examples, these would include simulating the sound of open versus enclosed spaces (using delay and reverb as appropriate), footsteps on pavement as opposed to in a forest, and a host of other audio elements.

Maintaining a consistency of sound helps to serve as intuitive instruction, such as the “boing” sound for jumping used in Super Mario Bros. Warning sounds like sirens or beeps can signal to gamers that they are attempting actions that will not be usable within a game.

Semiotics within interactive games are sounds that take common sounds that are imbued with established meanings within Western culture, and are applied to the game’s virtual reality. For example, sounds like a “ding” are associated with something positive (this originated with pinball machines and later became used for text messages on phones). A musical interval of a rising fifth is interpreted as being “heroic”; for example, in ’ Superman theme, while the more dissonant tritones, aka, “The Devil’s Interval,” are associated with evil, as used by Danny Elfman in the Batman theme and Hela’s theme by Mark Mothersbaugh in Thor: Ragnarok). The sliding down of a note by five half-steps or more connotes “failure,” often heard in cartoons.

Bass sounds are used to immerse the listener into the space and atmosphere of the created reality, while higher-frequency sounds give clues about the direction of movement, location, or proximity of other characters or objects.

To guide gamers, some of the techniques used by sound designers include:

Hiding “interesting” sounds, i.e. muffled voices or unique associated sounds, behind closed doors; Taking advantage of the natural human inclination to gravitate towards voices; Making “interesting” sounds move, rather than keeping them static.

Oftentimes in games, a light accompanied by a particular sound will signal when a player has successfully interacted or failed with an object that will help them progress in the narrative. These are examples of semiotics at work, which Harrison refers to as “talismans.” These are often represented by chords, with harmony indicating positive and dissonance matched with negative aspects.

In conclusion, Harrison re-emphasized that sounds play a vital part in games, in setting the gaming environment and in providing user feedback. Sound designers need to make sure that every sound serves a distinct purpose in the game’s narrative and in conveying information.

A Rupert Neve Retrospective: Sound Over Specs

The late Rupert Neve was an audio pioneer in microphone preamp, mixing console and compressor design. His “flying faders” automated consoles were responsible for much of the sound of contemporary music from the 1970s to the present, where top-flight recording studios like Nashville’s Blackbird Studio refuse to use anything else. Neve later founded Focusrite, which revolutionized the use of DAW (digital audio workstations) in home studios in much the same way. Neve passed away earlier this year in February, 2021.

AES held a symposium tribute to Rupert Neve, “a name associated with the highest quality of audio,” as they put it, featuring commentary from George Massenburg (recording engineer, inventor and principal of George Massenburg Labs), Alex Case (moderator, associate professor at the University of Lowell), Steve Rosenthal (The Magic Shop recording studio), Darrell Thorp (nine-time Grammy winning engineer), Josh Thomas (Rupert Neve Designs, Amek), and Ronald Prent (Wisseloord Studio, The Netherlands).

Steve Rosenthal recalled that there was a movement in the 1980s to actually get rid of consoles, and that compressors and other outboard signal-processing gear could be run independently in a signal chain without one. Having met Neve at an AES Show, Rosenthal became convinced of the folly of such a premise, and went on to use his Neve at The Magic Shop in New York’s district, where David Bowie, Lou Reed, Blondie and others recorded iconic albums.

Josh Thomas had met Neve in 1991 while still working at console manufacturer Amek. Neve hired Thomas in 2005 after relocating to Texas to found Rupert Neve Designs. Neve was always excited about the “next” thing, and never looked back. For example, he was able to add an extra 10 dB of dynamic range into his consoles during his twilight years, and still listened to prototype designs at low volume levels for weeks to months on end for final tweaking.

Ronald Prent noted that when working with Rammstein, he was using an SSL console for recording and the band was unhappy after ten (10) days of using the console because their mixes “lacked power.” Prent then ran the signal directly through a chain of Neve 1073 mic preamps and Neve 2254 compressors, which then satisfied the band.

Darrell Thorp worked with the Foo Fighters on their latest record, using the original Neve 8028 used at Sound City Studios in Los Angeles that Dave Grohl had restored to spec. It turns out that EastWest Studios in Hollywood, California has a sister Neve 8028 console made during the same time frame. Thorp believes that Grohl’s Neve 8028 is grittier and edgier-sounding than EastWest’s model.

Thorp feels that the Neve 1073 is a preamp that works for every genre of music and that its musicality is universally pleasing.

George Massenburg, who knew Neve starting in the 1970s, recalled how wowed he, Linda Ronstadt, and the members of all were at first hearing the sound of a Neve console while making Ronstadt’s . In addition to always sounding great, Massenburg, credited as the creator and pioneer of parametric equalization, said that Neve console specs were always honest, unlike other manufacturers who overhyped specs on recall that would be +/- 4 dB off. Massenburg later worked with Neve on the recall mix system for Focusrite, making sure to keep the same level of technical exactitude.

All of the panelists concurred that Rupert Neve’s attention to listening was unparalleled. Even when test equipment measured two different units as the same, if Rupert heard a difference, they would eventually find the technical cause for the discrepancy. Beatles engineer Geoff Emerick was an even better listener and if Emerick could hear something, the Neve engineers would have to go back to find out what the cause was. In one case, after Emerick insisted he could hear a difference, a transformer that had a minor wiring discrepancy was found to be the ultimate culprit (generating noise at 53 kHz).

How fitting that the conclusion of our overview series on AES Show Spring 2021 brings us back to a standard of audio excellence upheld by AES and symbolized by an iconic designer like Rupert Neve!

Header image: Neve 5088 16-channel mixing console. Facing the Music

FEATURED Written by B. Jan Montana

Oliver: Wanna shot of single malt, Terry? Terry: Still got some of that Bunnahabhain?

O: Here. I wonder why some of our friends don’t show up to our music gatherings anymore; I know they’re not ill!

T: You can’t be sure of that mate; maybe they’re not letting on.

O: Well, that may be true of some, but others seem to have become curmudgeons. They always find an excuse to stay home and sit on the porch or watch TV.

T: Maybe it’s S.A.D.

O: Sad?

T: No…well, yes. I call it Self-Arrest Disease.

O: What?

T: Well, mate, they’ve decided that they are too old, painful, and tired to be appreciated anymore, so they place themselves under house arrest.

O: Right, they never seem to leave the house anymore.

T: They've chosen to become passive. Passivity is a disease. It makes strong people weak, and weak people demented. The passive life is a life without power or joy.

O: Who in their right mind would do that when seniors around the world are hiking mountains, sailing seas, writing books, teaching, volunteering, and finding ways to improve the lives of those around them?

T: Guys who are scared.

O: Of what?

T: They are scared of the unknown.

O: What are you talking about?

T: They’re afraid of dying, Ollie; they don’t know what’s on the other side and that fear is crippling them.

O: Many people are afraid of dying, but they don’t have S.A.D.

T: True, some people have strong religious beliefs that comfort them.

O: My father was a faithful evangelical all of his life, yet he still expressed doubts before he died. Without empirical evidence, no one can be sure of the absolute truth.

T: Perhaps many spokes lead to the same hub?

O: Or perhaps they just lead down the garden path.

T: That’s why some take refuge in science. If Einstein is to be believed, all matter is a manifestation of energy – ripples in the quantum field. These people reason that if all matter is energy, then all the energy in the universe, the entire quantum field, must be the universal spirit or God. They say that death is nothing more than a matter of ripples in the quantum field, us, returning to the form of pure energy, just as a snowflake always returns to the ocean. Nothing is destroyed or lost, it just changes form.

O: Who knows, man, it all seems like conjecture to me. I don’t think we have any more understanding of the absolute truth than my dog understands personal hygiene.

T: Hah! That’s funny. Did you know that the ancient Egyptians deified dogs as well as cats? But they worshipped the sun. I always thought that was a ridiculous idea, like worshipping trees or rocks. But if you see the sun as a visual representation of quantum energy, it makes sense.

O: What about people who don’t understand any of that?

T: They are the ones who are most afraid, and what they fear is being relegated to nonexistence for their sins.

O: Everyone commits sins. We all make mistakes, usually in ignorance. Now that we are older and know better, we’re ashamed. Back then, such behavior seemed advantageous – even if we knew it was selfish.

T: Moral behavior is part of the maturing process I suppose, but it doesn’t ameliorate the fear of divine retribution.

O: God, or the universal spirit, made us the way we are with all our shortcomings, Terry. He shouldn’t get too upset if we act accordingly. Are you going to beat your cat because it killed a songbird? If a cat acts like a cat, it can be argued that the cat’s creator is responsible for its actions. The behavior of humans is pretty consistent regardless of the era or culture. If the entire species is faulty, then the responsibility falls on the creator.

T: Or the programmer. Maybe the culture is responsible for behavior. Lots of people blame their parents, neighborhood, religion, or society at large for their actions.

O: The counterargument is that because humans can distinguish between right and wrong, they are responsible for their actions regardless of their past.

T: The problem is that the concept of right and wrong is cultural. The Plains Indians taught their young warriors that stealing a horse was a mark of bravery, but the white man hung horse thieves. Many medieval Europeans thought the Inquisition was moral, but their descendants repudiated it. The Old Testament rationalizes revenge as the will of God, the New Testament tells us to turn the other cheek. The 9/11 hijackers are reviled by the Western world, but many in the Muslim community believe they took a direct flight to heaven.

O: Too bad they didn’t fly solo.

T: Hah, right!

O: Maybe we should let our conscience direct our behavior.

T: There are people who don’t seem to have a conscience, or they’ve buried it – most of them are in jail or in politics. Others argue that conscience is a social construct indoctrinated into people as children. That was probably true of the 9/11 hijackers. They made the ultimate sacrifice believing they were doing the will of God. How many people are that committed to their faith? Should they be rewarded or punished?

O: Are you trying to tell me that there is no retribution for evil? Don’t you believe in justice?

T: Both sides in every war believe the other side is evil. Only the victor's definition prevails. Is that just? Justice doesn't seem to play a part in nature, so who knows if it plays a role in the cosmic scheme of things?

O: Eastern religions argue that Karma delivers justice.

T: Doesn’t always seem that way.

O: Maybe everyone should just stick to the Golden Rule.

T: That would make for heaven on earth, so long as no one violates it. But that seems inconceivable given human nature. So long as there are bullies in the schoolyard, there’ll be tyranny on Earth. That’s why these utopian political systems always fail. Any idealistic system that ignores human nature is destined to implode.

O: I have a cousin, Antoine, who was a bully not only in the schoolyard, but with his wife and family too. It irks me that he appears to be happy now.

T: He’s probably come to terms with his past.

O: If he’s come to terms with it, he must believe that some higher power has absolved him.

T: Not necessarily. Perhaps he’s learned to forgive himself. What else can he do? The past is the past, no one can change it. Would you have him become an addict or homeless? That’s what happens to people who can’t forgive themselves. Or they develop neurosis and disease.

O: I don’t know how people like Antoine can live with themselves.

T: Maybe they just choose to place their focus elsewhere. If you focus on the trees and rocks while riding a motorcycle, you’re headed for disaster. If you focus on the centerline, you’ll get through the turn safely. Life’s like that, it takes you where you place your focus. If you focus on negative things like your past or your fears, they’ll overcome you. The hypochondriac always gets sick. The timid always lose. But if you focus on positive things: improving other’s lives, entertaining friends, enjoying the beauty of nature, creating art, intellectual pursuits, appreciating the comforts of the western world – your senior years will be satisfying.

O: I’m not so sure the comforts of the Western world will last much longer the way things are going.

T: No one knows how things are going to turn out Ollie; besides, it’s out of your control. Why waste a dwindling resource like your life’s energy on things you can’t control? Fatalism leads to neurosis and disease.

O: Still, I‘m scared for my children and grandchildren.

T: They will experience what they experience whether you are scared or not. You have no power over that. Don’t be remembered as that paranoid grandparent!

O: No, I don’t want that.

T: Let me play the devil’s advocate and advance a worst case scenario. Imagine that the world is the Titanic just after hitting the iceberg. Remember that the band continued to play until the ship went down?

O: Sure.

T: OK, as a passenger here’s your choice: you can go down screaming and scrambling in fear, or you can enjoy the music for as long as possible.

O: You’re saying that the world is like the Titanic?

T: With one big exception – nobody gets off this liner alive. So instead of panicking, we should savor the music.

O: Sounds like you want me to wear rose-colored glasses?

T: It’s your choice to see the world through rose-colored glasses or dark ones Ollie. That choice determines your world view, which determines your attitude towards life, which determines your quality of life.

O: That reminds me of something Shakespeare wrote, hhhhhhhummmm ……………Oh! "There’s nothing good or bad but thinking makes it so.”

T: Exactly!

O: OK, I think we’ll have another shot of single malt and listen to some music.

T: Good idea. We have a lot for which to be grateful.

Header image courtesy of pixabay.com/FireFX. William Byrd: English Musical Inspiration

SOMETHING OLD / SOMETHING NEW Written by Anne E. Johnson

During the early Renaissance, European composers gushed over what they called the contenance angloise (English style) of polyphonic composition, which featured an acoustical richness that others tried to copy. Maybe it’s something in Britannia’s soil, but that intense sonic velvet remained the purview of English pens all the way through the early 20th century, when Vaughan Williams and Britten graced the world with their gorgeous melodies. But the arguable founding father of English musical beauty was William Byrd. Byrd was born in the early 1540s, exact date unknown, into a family of merchants in London. He sang as a boy at the Chapel Royal, where he probably studied with the great Thomas Tallis, a favorite of Henry VIII. Byrd’s own output started in the reign of Mary Tudor. Throughout a series of church jobs, Byrd was occasionally called to task by his Protestant bosses for writing polyphony that was too complex or for using too much organ accompaniment in his music. Nevertheless, he was one of the most sought-after composers in the country, excelling in all the many genres he put his hand to, including both sacred and secular songs and both vocal and instrumental music. A few recent recordings serve as a reminder of what all the fuss was about.

Although Byrd worked for Protestants, he converted to Catholicism in midlife, inspiring him to turn his gifts to a different style of sacred music. in Secret: Clandestine Catholic Music by William Byrd is a new recording of some of that output performed by The Marion Consort, under the direction of Rory McCleery (Delphian Records).

Among Byrd’s important Catholic compositions are Latin-language motets and Mass movements; the Protestant denominations insisted on translations of the liturgy into each region’s vernacular, although that tenet was less strictly observed in England than on the Continent. Byrd set the text “Miserere mei Deus” (Have mercy on me, God), a favorite among Renaissance composers of polyphony, including the revered Franco-Flemish composer Josquin des Prez, whose work Byrd certainly would have known.

In their performance of this motet, the Marion Consort truly sinks its teeth into Byrd’s luscious choral polyphony. McCleery makes sure to emphasize the almost painfully passionate dissonances, the kind of thing that would have earned Byrd the stink-eye from some puritanical authorities. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sR_mL964kSc

More of Byrd’s polyphony can be enjoyed on In Chains of Gold, Vol. 2., a collaboration by the viol ensemble Fretwork, the brass group His Majesty’s Sackbutts & Cornets, and the choral Magdalena Consort, all led by William Hunt on Signum Records. Volume 1 was dedicated entirely to the music of Orlando Gibbons; about half of Volume 2 is by Byrd, with the rest a combination of works by contemporaneous English composers such as John Bull, Edmund Hooper, and Thomas Morley.

The thematic connection is that all the tracks represent “anthems,” which was the term used for religious choral songs in the Anglican church at the time; anthems are the English-language, Protestant equivalent of Latin motets.

As you can hear on Byrd’s setting of the text “Teach Me, O Lord,” anthems combined instruments and voices as well as often oscillating between homorhythmic choral sections and arioso passages for solo voice. It is a treat to have this excellent collection available. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfoZRZGXPTM

Fretwork has been busy with Byrd in the past year or so. However, there is no overlap of material between the anthems album and Byrd 1588: Psalmes, Sonets and Songs of Sadnes and Pietie, which Fretwork made on the Resonus label along with the vocal group Alamire. David Skinner directs secular songs on this recording, quite a different genre from Byrd’s religious music.

Some of the songs are arranged for instruments only, which would have been commonplace at the time. Others are sung in counterpoint, whereas others are presented with solo voice and accompaniment. On “Come to Me Grief Forever,” mezzo-soprano Martha McLorinan gives an understated, affecting reading of a heartbreaking text. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vqKVoaj1TcE

It’s pointless to guess where Byrd provided the biggest influence to fellow composers, but his music for solo keyboard is certainly high on the list. He practically invented the industry of selling books of short keyboard works to amateur musicians; in this, he was way ahead of his time, since it was only in the early 19th century that composers universally began relying on published sheet music as a source of income. But there was Byrd in the late 16th century, charming a young noblewoman at her virginal (a small harpsichord) with his My Ladye Nevells Booke.

Two recent releases take a fresh look at this essential material. The 29-year-old American pianist Kit Armstrong recorded William Byrd and John Bull: The Visionaries of Piano Music for Deutsche Grammophon as part of an impressively thorough project that attempts to understand how Byrd and Bull, who lived a generation later, laid the technical groundwork for all piano composing and playing that followed. Armstrong has made a series of lecture-demonstrations on his YouTube channel which support and explain his research.

But for most listeners, the proof is in the playing. Armstrong is not a harpsichordist, nor is he concerned with historical performance practice that might re-create these pieces as Byrd heard them. Thus, he applies sustain pedal and rubato on modern piano in utterly anachronistic ways; this particular early-music enthusiast had to take some meditative breaths to keep from dismissing the whole record. But once I let the performance speak for itself, I came to like it very much. The interpretations are deeply thoughtful, exploring Byrd’s use of figuration, phrasing, and chords while remaining always expressive. It’s not even remotely 16th-century, but it is beautiful and sometimes quite moving. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFuV2l8aaKU

As it turns out, presenting 16th-century music with a 19th-century aesthetic is not the most exotic thing to happen to Byrd’s keyboard works of late. The French label Le petit disque released a recording by harpsichordist Emi Nakamura called William Byrd & Japan (no, the composer never visited the Far East). The first half of the album is Nakamura’s careful and pleasing interpretations of a handful of solo keyboard miniatures such as “Lord Willoughby’s Welcome Home”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQnwFlEaI9E&list=OLAK5uy_lmrbgCMqCU3giV2ZEtifkLTlBLX m8mlVw&index=3

The album’s title, William Byrd & Japan, is explained by the inclusion of several sections of Byrd’s large programmatic harpsichord work called The Battel (sometimes spelled The Battell), comprising 13 short movements named after war-like elements such as soldiers marching into, fighting, and retreating from a battle. Here, the piece has been arranged for harpsichord with Japanese instruments, including the nohkan (Japanese flute) played by virtuoso Yukihiro Isso, who provides a dramatic obbligato line that sounds improvised, and Takinojo Mochizuki, a specialist in Japanese percussion; Nakamura supplies the original Byrd keyboard part. It is a fascinating experiment that bears little relationship to the original context of the piece, but it works if you imagine it as a new score to a Kurosawa film. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bqHvNv4uhc

No matter the time or place, William Byrd remains an inspiration. The Ages of Plastic

AUDIO STATIC Written by Peter Xeni Newly-Released SACD Discs Worth Checking Out

TO BE DETERMINED Written by Tom Gibbs

I’ve been on this converting SACDs to DSD files binge as of late, and in addition to the 400 or so discs I currently have in my library, I’ve been on a bit of a buying spree, especially with regard to Japanese import discs, like those from SHM. Most new production SACDs sell for around $30-$35, but the SHMs – if you shop at Acoustic Sounds (AS) or Elusive Disc (ED) – retail for $60, even the brand new ones. If you shop around online, you can find new release SHM SACD discs for about $30 (sometimes less!) – the very same discs AS and ED are selling for $60. It’s absolutely crazy, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it. Last week, I bought three import SACDs, including the brand-new release of the Pat Metheny Group's Offramp. The new price of that disc at AS is $60. Now don’t get me wrong – I’ve spent tons of money over the years at Acoustic Sounds, but I just can’t figure why it’s possible to get the very same disc for half the price elsewhere. And trust me, if you’re at all familiar with SHM SACDs, there’s no faking the distinctive dark green coating (designed to minimize laser diffraction when reading the disc’s reflective surface) on the disc’s outer surface – the cheaper ones are definitely the real thing!

Now, of course, you don’t get quite the same level of service that you should be accustomed to getting from the higher-priced vendors. For example, I’ve been buying a lot of discs recently from an online retailer in Kentucky, importCDs.com, and while the pricing is superb, the service is somewhat variable from experience to experience. I bought a couple of SHM SACDs from them my first time, and decided to go with the low-priced Media Mail shipping. The discs shipped the same day, and arrived about three days later, in perfect condition – jeez, I just might be onto something here! I ordered several more times, same basic experience, no problems at all. My last order from them, however, took twelve days to arrive; Louisville, Kentucky is about 375 miles from me in Georgia, but my last order traveled a total distance of almost 2,200 miles, going all the way to Stockbridge, Massachusetts before it finally started making its way back to me. And the package looked like it had been through a hurricane or a flood – thank God the discs were wrapped in cellophane – and although the discs were perfect, every disc case was cracked.

By comparison, my last order from Acoustic Sounds came with free shipping via FedEx, but it also took twelve days to get here, so take your pick. But had I ordered these three discs from AS, the cost would have been almost double the price from importCDs.com. Now, I understand that the SHM SACDs are limited edition discs, and as they sell out, the prices typically tend to get pretty out of control everywhere on the internet. That’s a given – but at the very least, if you shop around and don’t wait too long, you can get some amazing buys on SACD discs online at the time of their release. If you’re at all interested, go ahead and pull the trigger – as an old friend used to say, “he who hesitates is lost.”

Of course, I’ve been ripping the discs to DSD files and playing them via I²S with the Douk Audio Digital Interface, and the sound is nothing short of incredible over my system. Here are a few that I’ve been listening to recently. Just as a footnote to the SHM SACDs: for those of you who are heavily into the surround-sound aspect of SACD, they’re strictly 2-channel, stereo-only discs. Just an FYI – in fact, with rare exception, most of the SACDs being produced these days are 2-channel (stereo only) discs. Patricia Barber – Café Blue – Unmastered

Chicago native Patricia Barber tends to get something of a bad rap whenever it comes to her style of jazz music; her discs often tend to get pigeon-holed as “audiophile” recordings. And therefore – regardless of their great sound – they're considered typically of very little value artistically or in the bigger scheme of things. I have an associate who writes for one of the same audio publications I do, and a few years back at the AXPONA show in Chicago, Bes Nievera of Music Direct had arranged for Patricia Barber to give a live performance. The associate in question told me that “he couldn’t get out of there fast enough,” and that he “can’t stand that audiophile crap.” I can’t understand that, because I actually loooove Patricia Barber’s music; it’s often quirky and offbeat, and she embellishes everything she plays with her own unique take on the music. And not to mention that it’s always incredibly well recorded; many of her discs were produced and recorded by the phenomenal Jim Anderson — enough said, basically!

This is one of those records that’s been released in every available format, and in every remastering of every available format, but you’re going to have to trust me on this – you’ve never heard Café Blue like this! Originally a , session engineer Jim Anderson took the master tapes in 2011 to Capitol Studios in Hollywood where he took them into the analog domain and remixed the album on Capitol’s custom Neve mixing board (considered the No. 1 Neve unit in the US!), using analog reverb chambers to add ambience to the mix. Those results alone were spectacular, but then Gus Skinas at the Super Audio Center in Boulder, Colorado took those tapes and created an “unmastered” version, where he basically stripped the mixes down to their rawest state. The result is this “unmastered” SACD, and the sound defies all logic — this is maybe the finest-sounding SACD disc in my entire digital collection, and yet I almost passed on this one, even though it was only $23 at importCDs.com.

For the uninitiated, Barber’s music is some of the most inspired post-modern jazz out there, her work at the piano is superb to say the least, and she gives her supporting cast of musicians plenty of room to stretch out and solo. You’ve probably never heard of any of the guys who were in her band at the time, but they’re all outstanding virtuosic musicians. I’ve had this mix of jazz standards and originals in my library for over a decade, and several of the songs are in my regular rotation in my car, but I’ve never heard this music like this – I was literally flabbergasted on first listen, and couldn’t believe that I almost passed on getting it. This disc is easily the most dynamic DSD recording in my growing library; the live, in-your-room realism is just off-the-charts good, and Café Blue – Unmastered comes very highly recommended!

Premonition Records, SACD

Pat Metheny Group – Offramp I bought the LP of this album when it first came out in 1982; having never heard anything by the Pat Metheny Group, I was taken by the graphically striking front cover image, and by the really glossy . Offramp blew me away when I got home with it and placed it on my turntable – the ECM recording was dynamic and clear, and the music was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. And the quality of the Japanese pressing was beyond superb – it was probably the quietest vinyl and the finest LP to ever grace my turntable up to that point. I was hooked, and went on a PMG binge of sorts soon afterwards.

Moving into the digital age, I was never particularly impressed with any CD version of Offramp (or anything else in the Pat Metheny catalog, for that matter) – they all sounded, well, rather flat to me. Not at all as enjoyable as my original LPs, which I felt totally outclassed the ECM CD sound.

When I first saw the “coming soon” status of Offramp (along with about a half-dozen other ECM titles) as SHM SACDs, I was chomping at the bit to get a copy, and especially at the $30 importCD.com price. I was pretty upset when the e-mail arrived noting that it was already back- ordered on the day of release, but surprisingly, it shipped a couple of days later. It’s been well worth the wait – Offramp probably has the greatest level of dynamic range of any digital file (or disc) in my library. In my system, that includes my PS Audio Stellar Gain Cell DAC and Stellar M700 mono amps, and playing into my Magneplanar LRS loudspeakers, it’s often necessary for me to push the volume control to 90 or higher to get reference-level playback. The sound is nothing short of superb, easily besting my original LP by a pretty wide margin. It’s that good!

Tunes like the bossa nova “Are You Going With Me” and the ever-mysterious “Au Lait” are rendered with supreme fidelity; I always felt the CD versions of Offramp had too much background noise in the really quiet parts of the music. That’s not a problem with the SHM SACD – this music has never sounded so vital and alive, and is presented with remarkable realism as well. And perennially sunny tunes like “Eighteen” and “James” (a tune I could put on non-stop repeat, literally forever!) have never sounded as great as they do here. At $30, the SHM SACD of Offramp is a complete no-brainer. Very highly recommended!

ECM (SHM), Japanese Import SACD Tears For Fears – Songs From The Big Chair

Songs From The Big Chair is one of those Eighties albums that’s not only essential listening – even almost four decades later – but one that just about summarizes the Eighties experience. There’s not a bad song on the entire disc, and the really big hits like “Shout,” “Head Over Heels,” and “Everybody Wants To Rule The World” ruled the airwaves during the mid-Eighties and onward. As great as this album is though, I never realized just how bad the CD sounded until very recently, when I picked up a CD copy at a thrift store, and was totally underwhelmed by how flat the disc sounded, even with the relatively high level of playback my current system offers. As great as a lot of vintage CDs sound on more modern equipment, some of them still sound, well, pretty awful.

So at the $30 asking price, I decided to take a chance on this disc – anything would have to be an improvement over the original. I’d seen some information about a Steven Wilson , but hadn’t been able to track down a disc copy, so buoyed by my recent SHM experiences, I decided to take a chance. Well, once again: money well spent. Whereas the catalog CD is anemic and rather harsh sounding, this one is anything but that. This is a bright-sounding disc, and that tends to get exacerbated by the Magneplanar’s quasi-ribbon tweeter, but the listening experience is nothing like the nearly unlistenable catalog CD. Very highly recommended!

Mercury/Universal (SHM), Japanese Import SACD – Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

When the first SACDs hit back in 2001-2002, the first five or so Elton John albums were released by Universal as hybrid, surround SACDs. A whole lot of people lambasted them, saying the sound was overly bright; I have to take issue with that. Having all the original Universal SACDs, I think the brightness was more of a byproduct of the SACD player design and available playback equipment of the day. I really don’t think most of the people complaining about SACD’s sound quality were listening on top-notch equipment. Anyway, I grabbed this SHM SACD disc, mainly because I could get it for $30, and because I kind of wanted to do a head-to-head comparison with the Universal SACD release.

Well, the winner is definitely the SHM, but only by the slimmest of margins; hearing these SHM SACDs is like waaay back in the day, when I’d spring for a Japanese import album. It would definitely be the best pressing of any album I ever bought, and generally the very best sound quality. I get much of that same impression with the SHM’s; when I play back Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the very first track, “Funeral For A Friend,” just totally displays the kind of extended soundstage, separation, and clarity that I expected to hear from a Japanese LP pressing. With no harshness or extreme brightness – the sound quality here is about as good as it possibly gets. Listening to this SACD really takes me back to when this music was new, and I just couldn’t get enough of it. And it’s such a great listen, it doesn’t wear you down either – very highly recommended! Mercury/Universal (SHM), Japanese Import SACD

Diana Krall – Live In Paris

Diana Krall is another artist who’s been really maligned over the years; as far as I’m concerned, her first five-or-six mainstream Impulse/Verve albums are absolutely indispensable listening for well- recorded, superbly played jazz standards. When she arrived on the scene, she was young, beautiful, incredibly talented, and – most importantly – very well recorded and produced, usually by Tommy LiPuma. It’s no wonder that her handlers wanted to capitalize on her appeal by over-glamourizing her album covers and promotional materials, which ultimately had the effect of turning off a lot of jazz purists. Not to mention that in the early days, if you went to an audio show, chances are you’d get the equipment you were interested in hearing demoed to a Diana Krall album – she was oversaturated in every aspect of the audio experience.

That said, I still love those first few albums, and I really love this disc, Live In Paris, which arrived after the first four mainstream albums (technically, her actual first two recordings were not released until she had reached a much higher level of fan interest). I feel that Live In Paris is much more representative of what Diana Krall was capable of. It shows to great effect her incredible talent as a pianist, along with her unmatched ability among modern vocalists to get to the heart of jazz standards and songs from Tin Pan Alley. Diana Krall is in really great voice, surrounded here by top- notch artists like Anthony Wilson on guitar, John Clayton on bass, and Jeff Hamilton on drums, and Alan Broadbent conducts the orchestra. This was a great live DVD, it was a great CD, and the SACD takes that performance to an even higher level of audio excellence.

This is not an SHM SACD; it comes from Universal Japan, but doesn’t lag far behind in terms of the overall experience — I’d actually say the musical I get from this disc is definitely on par with the SHM discs. Very highly recommended!

Verve/Universal, Japanese Import SACD

Header image of Pat Metheny courtesy of Wikipedia/R. Steven Rainwater. Jo Quail: An Eclectic Approach to the Cello, Part One

THE COPPER INTERVIEW Written by Russ Welton

Classical, rock and influences, percussive, looping and other ingenious cello techniques, as well as unusual collaborations are just some of the eclectic approaches Jo Quail takes to the cello. Jo’s techniques and impeccable timing bring life to her compositions for film, and her live performances. Her inimitable style and grace and layered soundscapes evoke a rich palette of emotive tones. How has she created her art?

Russell Welton: Every musician goes through phases of development. What time period saw your greatest advancement as a cellist, and what do you ascribe this to?

Jo Quail: This is a fascinating question to try to answer! I’ve been playing cello since I was six years old, and as such it’s a continuous advancement. The concept of technical advancement is not so easy to pick out because technical challenges are often things that are mastered over a period of years, and then worked on continuously throughout our playing careers. It’s a retrospective concept in many ways, and difficult to pinpoint the exact transition from “impossible” to “possible.”

Playing cello, or indeed any instrument, is an integration of physical ability and mental approach, and personally I feel that there is no uncoupling of these. There have been several moments when I’ve “understood” something suddenly, or looked at something a different way, and this has changed my entire playing approach. One of my teachers once said to me that playing the cello is the art of making something difficult into something easy. So, if you have a technical challenge, try to work at it from a musical perspective, and similarly, if you have something that concerns you with phrasing or emotional intent, try to see what is going on technically, as one side will always inform the other.

I would say that advancement comes really from emotional maturity, and I was a pretty late developer here! I didn’t feel truly connected to my cello for many years, even after my degree, and it was only after a few rites of passage in [my] non-musical life that I returned to my cello, and then felt such a strong relationship develop. I used to [just] feel [like], “I picked up my cello and leaned it against me.” Now I feel it is part of me.

I guess therefore [that] advancement is both technical and psychological, and I think the larger component here is psychological; this is what separates machine (or MIDI!) from the blood, breath and bone of art.

RW: How did you come to develop such an expressive range of techniques from the cello?

JQ: The cello is a voice. There are many things this instrument is capable of saying, we are all familiar with the breadth of emotion flowing in, say, the Elgar [Cello Concerto], or the light and joy in either Haydn concerto, and there is much more in addition. I guess it’s like language really. Language evolves naturally and therefore so does the language of the cello. I’ve found my particular language techniques through traditional playing, performing a lot of contemporary music and working with other composers, also through improvisation, and perhaps most importantly, through experimentation. To give some examples: I’ll ask myself, “what happens if you bow too near [to the] bridge, bow behind [the] hand, [or do a] palm-mute pizzicato? Or, “I want to convey this or that – the way the light shines on a Barbara Hepworth sculpture – how can I ‘play’ this light?” If you then couple this (as I do in some instances) with electronic effects the results can be pretty expansive. I do use all my extended techniques within my solo acoustic compositions too, and the challenge then is how to score them! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVD4tpwodwc

RW: Do you have any advice in getting the most from your instrument’s depth of resonance and harmonic richness?

JQ: This is a two-fold question! From a cellistic point of view, yes. It’s what I tell my students. Sit and play long , listen very carefully to the tone, find the very center of the tone. Know how it feels in your right arm, the position and speed of the bow, the weight of the hand and arm, the openness of the back and shoulders. You will feel it resonate through your body. Find this sound, try to find it every day, then employ left hand technique and try to find the same resonance in every position across every string as far as possible. Get to know your cello so thoroughly.

There are many ways to play the same thing on a cello, so it’s good to consider what string to play on, as you will be either enhancing or cutting some of the harmonic series depending on where you play. If you’ve got something [to play] in say the fourth position on the A string, if you move that on to the G string at the same pitch you will get a very different effect as there is much less string to resonate. This can be really useful and give very interesting effects in a studio setting but may or may not be quite so effective live.

Getting the most in a recording in terms of depth of resonance and harmonic richness depends a lot on the room, the microphones and the producer of course. I’m lucky to often work with producers who are highly skilled in recording strings or cellos particularly, but as a general sweep, a close mic will produce a lot of bow noise, but will give the clarity of sound, and an overhead [mic that’s more distantly placed] captures the greatest frequency range, [which] is my preferred sound if it’s a case of [having to choose] one or the other.

RW: When given a brief for composition, what provides the best sparks of imagination for your creativity?

JQ: In film music the brief from the director will be enough to start the ball rolling for me, but often there are aspects from the film itself that I take as a starting point. For example, a recent film I scored opened with [the sound of] a microwave oven, which had a pitch of roughly A flat, so that became my starting tonal point. I will usually watch various scenes and record my improvised immediate response in the first instance, as often that primary reaction reveals what becomes the DNA of the whole work.

In commissioned compositions outside of film, again it is the brief, and the immediate instinctive musical response that opens my imagination to the whole work. I was recently commissioned to write a piece of music exploring heaviness in classical music, from the perspective of metal (in very general terms) for the Roadburn Festival, and my immediate thought was instrumentation: trombones, bass trombones and as much orchestral percussion as I could get away with! I ended up writing for eight bones, two percussionists (with multiple tympani, concert bass, tam-tam, hand percussion and so on), piano, two vocalists, violin and cello.

RW: When creating “music for music’s sake,” what comes to your mind first, the melody or the rhythm?

JQ: Either – my manuscript books are full of short phrases, and my phone is full of me doing a kind of weird beatboxing to demonstrate a rhythm! I also find a lot of inspiration in words. I will sometimes write and then use a poem or piece of prose, and allocate pitches and/or note lengths within a system I devise to create a melody. I’ll sometimes go back over my notes and find that two apparently disparate ideas in fact combine to make the start of a new work.

I also find when I’m working with my electric cello that sound itself can create the start point. “Reya Pavan” is a good example of this. I knew what I wanted to say musically and I experimented with bowing a sound I’d previously created to be percussive (hit with the hand or bowed col legno) and when bowed, this sound opened a whole dark earthy palette, which became the canvas on which “Reya” was built. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eShVEqkEAk

RW: What would you describe is necessary to become an audio storyteller? JQ: An openness or readiness to see [and] imagine the image or story, and [the] perseverance to translate it to sound. To have a firm idea at the outset, then permit oneself to let go of this, as the music may dictate the journey. To fully embrace juxtaposition in sound in the way that a forest may suddenly give way to a wide-open space, so music can translate both light and dark.

For me, I feel I must understand the intent in my composition, and then deliver this in performance with all the energy of this thought or story, whether live or recorded. This doesn’t necessarily mean thrashing around on stage – I have a piece for example called “The Breathing Hand” which is a chorale of sorts, and when I perform this, it is the stillest moment on stage for me, but there is an intensity I feel in the music, in the space between the sounds, the chordal sequence, the pauses between the phrases, and I feel a sense of purity somehow. It’s almost a kind of religious stillness for want of a better phrase. I hope this reaches my audiences when I perform [the] piece.

RW: Does your workflow vary according to the project, and do you get much opportunity to incorporate experimental approaches?

JQ: Very much, and yes! If it’s my own composition my work flow is a bit sketchy; I’ll get to things when I can, but can be as experimental as I desire. If I’m working for an artist, providing cello for a track, or writing for film, I will work within the time frame they specify, and it’s often much easier if this is a short period of time, as I can get things done with a deadline but if it’s more of a “when you’re ready” [situation] it’s a dicey move! If I know [the] artist [I’m working with] well, then I’ll know how experimental I can be, and sometimes I am asked to contribute purely because they know I’ll do something less-expected. It just depends on each project really. Other times I know what’s needed is some beautiful solid sweeping chordal strings, and that’s what I’ll do. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFfAaYEY5YY

Part Two of the interview will appear in Issue 143.

Header image courtesy of Nick Hodgson. In Rare Form

AUDIO ANTHROPOLOGY Written by Frank Doris

Astounding finds: a JBL Metregon speaker system alongside a JBL Paragon system. Currently located at Audio Classics, owner Steve Rowell noted, "finding either of these is extremely rare. To have both at one time is unbelievable." In fact, they're so rare that we're devoting all of this month's column to these incredible examples of audio art.

The JBL Metregon. Wow, just...wow.

The JBL Paragon. From The JBL Book by John M. Eargle: "the 1957 Paragon was based on a direct- reflecting design by Richard Ranger originally intended for application in motion picture stereophonic reproduction. A mid-size version, the Metregon, was introduced later, as was a smaller bookshelf design, the Minigon. The curved cylindrical section balanced direct and reflected signals to produce a broad stereo soundstage for listeners over a fairly wide listening angle. Arnold Wolf was the industrial designer of the original Paragon."

Original JBL Paragon brochure, page one.

Illustration from the original JBL Metregon brochure.

Organ Donation

PARTING SHOT Taken by B. Jan Montana

The Spreckels Organ Pavilion houses the open-air Spreckels Organ in Balboa Park, San Diego, California. It's the world's largest pipe organ in a fully outdoor venue. John D. and Adolph B. Spreckels gave the organ and the pavilion as gifts to San Diego and the world in 1914.