 |
From the Top Down, Pt. 2
From the Top Down, Pt. 1 focused on what I
referred to as the “Top Down” approach to recording and producing, wherein
the song itself defines what decisions are made with regard to the sound and
textures utilized. I had pointed to the work of Mitchell Froom and Tchad
Blake as being the most fitting examples. While they have utilized some of
the most extreme sonic mangling techniques in their productions, their
reverent regard for the song itself virtually ensures that their efforts
will still manage to support and enhance the lyric, melody and overall vibe.
In the kitchen or the studio, the best productions are always a team effort.
The better your ingredients at the outset, the better your chances are for a
successful result. Sometimes you’re out of cooking oil. Your decision
whether to use olive oil, butter or make a trip to the store will directly
affect your outcome. The producer’s role at this point is to know a lot
about cakes and what those expected results might be, subsequently
anticipating courses of action and hopefully, avoiding disaster. But you
can’t make a great cake with bad eggs, no matter how tasty the frosting is.
This is where the supporting musicians’ role in the process shows itself to
be just as invaluable.
Guitarists and keyboardists contributions are the most easily identifiable.
Most of your comp-ing and soloing happen here, and in the pecking order for
the “Top Down” theory, some might justifiably place them just below singer
and song. After all, most singer-songwriters accompany themselves on guitar
or piano, right?
This is where things get very damn interesting. Because when we write songs,
I think it’s most often within that context: A voice, a melody and a single
instrument providing both rhythmic and chordal support; from the top down.
To follow-through and create a full band arrangement at that point presents
a new set of choices: Do you start with that as your basis (the singer
singing and accompanying themselves) and add complimentary colors? Or do you
reinterpret some or all of the roles of that person’s hands?
My first-hand example of this (oh, PUN-ish me for that one) is with the band
I play in, The Wild Truth. I generally bring a new song to rehearsal and run
it down for them on guitar. In that one performance, I have already
suggested a feel and attitude to start with. In some instances, I might go
so far as to detail what it’s about, or different sections that hold
particular meaning for emphasis. At that point I know that my guitar part is
about to change, because now a bass player (David Ybarra) and drummer (Bill
Ray) are going to assume and expand the job currently filled by my (cloven)
right hand. What they bring to the table is not only a skill set far beyond
what my limited abilities afford me, but a fresh perspective that most often
propels the song to a higher level as well. Similarly, lead guitarist
Charlie Loach brings sophistication and alliteration (my obfuscation needs a
long vacation) into the mix; filling out the harmonic voicings and perhaps
adding counter melodies, riffs or hooks. With all of that happening, there’s
a very good chance that the guitar part I used to perform the song in a solo
acoustic format will suddenly find itself to be redundant at best and at
worst, a train wreck. At this point (or really, over a period of time), my
part will either simplify, or shift toward another role entirely. Maybe I’ll
remove a lot of the strumming, or lay out on the verses, or whatever. The
crux of the situation described is that while things may have changed
considerably, they were all dictated or inspired by the song’s very essence.
On many studio projects, I’ve noticed subtle high-hat nuances, snare “ghost
notes” and bass drum accents that actually highlight a particular lyrical
passage and bring even more meaning to the words.
A great bass line can also accomplish this, as Paul McCartney showed many
times in his tenure with The Beatles. McCartney’s four-stringed input
eventually evolved to the point where he would overdub his bass parts last.
In this way, he was able to play under, over and around the vocal and other
instruments in a way that no one would have dared attempt at the outset of
basic tracking, for fear that no room would be left in the arrangement for
much of anything else.
This is not to disregard the “bottom up” approach, where a groove is laid
down as a foundation upon which a song can be built up. No less a
singer-songwriter talent than Paul Simon ably demonstrated how effective
this method could be with one of his finest albums, “The Rhythm of The
Saints”. Simon worked with an ensemble of South American and African
musicians to create a set of lush, complex percussion-driven grooves that he
subsequently composed some beautiful music and lyrics over. Peter Gabriel is
another avowed proponent of this school, as are countless hip-hop and dance
music artists who have made a lot more money than I’ll likely ever see. From
this direction, many of those rhythmic accents and subtleties can be
contextualized after the fact by actually writing them into the song, which
may on balance impart the same feeling of empathetic musical accompaniment.
Now speaking only for me, I’ve never written a song either from or over a
groove that outlasted one of my top down compositions in my repertoire,
which may be why I tend towards the later approach. Even the electronica
albums I’ve produced were “song first” affairs. Fortunately, working from a
song-oriented slant has also allowed me to work in a lot of different
genres, and kept my love and interest in my work fresh.
But enough about me (yawn), let’s talk about you. Why are you reading this,
when you could be making music? Go get ‘em!
Sven-Erik Seaholm is an award-winning independent producer with well over
200 recording credits, as well as a
singer and
songwriter. |
|
