Listening in Rome

"...a phasing effect with the very early reflections". One bit of sentence told me that Bob Katz works on a completely different plane altogether.

The thought of listening for this audio artefact had never troubled my mind; and even knowing what to listen for, I could only just make it out in the studios at home and at Red Tape. Having said that any feedback on Corazón Fugitivo's 'Rome Calling' mix would yield new and valuable information, this innocuous-looking snippet was a complete game-changer - telling me that I would have to send the salsa album to Florida for mixing as well as mastering.

That was the day before Rome.

I walked into the Auditorium della Discoteca di Stato on a wondrous Wednesday morning to be greeted by the lovely Andrea and Laura assisting none other than the flame-haired Mary Kent, author of "Salsa Talks". It was a great thing finally to meet and connect over salsa, as my attendeeship to "Bob 'Til You Drop" (BTYD) was being processed. Indeed, over the next three days I consider myself fortunate to have had so much of Mary and Bob's time to talk about things other than and including salsa dancing and music.

Loo... certified by Laura and Andrea

BTYD was a brain-melter of a workshop.

The early part of the morning dealt with ear-training; listening to several audiophile recordings and understanding how they were achieved. After the mid-morning break, it was into mastering software and workflow. Lunch was delish; an outside catering company had set up in the old courtyard with benches laden with classic Italian cuisine, and there we mingled - engineers, producers and musicians alike - under white canopies in the bright early summer sunlight. Then it was back into the fray to ruminate over the main tools of mastering and their effects. By the time those essentials were covered, space in the schedule for mix evaluations had run out.

If there were to be one slight regret, it would be that (frankly, all of us were hostages to the effects of saturation by then). It was more than compensated for by the company of warm, open, like-minded talents like Pierangelo, Federico and Samuel - musicians and audio experts in their own right.

Bobbin' 'til we were a'droppin'
(back, left to right) Pierangelo Troiano, Bob Katz, Federico Simonazzi
(front, left to right) Samuel Gaehwiler, Loo Yeo
Photograph courtesy of Mary Kent. All rights acknowledged.

Bob had kept up a lively, engaging patter throughout the day. It's not easy to run a full-dayer like that; his slight frame surely hid a deep well of stamina to draw upon. What I can say is that Mary and Bob hosted, presented, managed and delivered the workshop with not inconsiderable style. It is certainly one to go to again.

The next two days of 'Rome Calling' were more technically based on broadcasting and, despite being focussed on loudness normalisation as per European Broadcasting Union's Recommendation 128, had more than enough of the good stuff for the general producer and engineer. I came away with a feeling of being privileged to have engaged with unassuming people at the top of their game, the likes of Florian Camerer, George Massenburg, Thomas Lund, and Alessandro Travaglini. George especially, still communicates energy, enthusiasm, curiosity and wonder in all things to do with sound, music and people.

I have also an elevated respect for TC Electronics, headline sponsors and organisers of the 'Rome Calling' Audio Seminars, a company with so much class that it chose not to emblazon its presence in every nook and cranny. Instead, everyone from TC Electronics adopted understated roles of facilitators/advisors. Deserved plaudits go to them all.

And salsa still proved relevant to this entire context. Rome Calling affirmed several things. Foremost, a number of the demonstration pieces selected by Bob and George were Latin; in private conversation it sparked considerable interest when we discovered that it was an area I worked/played in. Afro-Cuban and Latin music has stature amongst the audio elite.

Just as invaluable was the chance to hear the personal story, about: why Mary embarked on "Salsa Talks" and how it resonates with my position with Víspera, and what she's working on now; Bob's insights into the remastering of the Fania back-catalog; and George's work with Cándido Camaro and Linda Ronstadt.

BTYD in the Eternal City.
Photograph courtesy of Mary Kent. All rights acknowledged.

Salsa is such a rich sustaining world that it's easy to be drawn in and become cloistered within it. Rome was a landmark event, to step out and to look back, and to savour it as appreciative outsiders do, if only for a short while.

Loo Yeo


For more about Loo's sojourn in Rome, visit the public photo album links (by Facebook) below:

• Rome Calling! (Part One)
• Rome Calling (Part Two)
• Rome Calling (Cittá del Vaticano)
• Rome Calling (Part Three - The Spectacular Sights)
• Rome Calling (Part Four - One More Story)
  

Corre Mi Corazón

That's it. The first mix of the first song of the album has just finished being uploaded to Digital Domain's site.

Three weeks ago I learned of a rare opportunity - there was going to be a gathering of the world's audio elite, respected audiophile and Grammy award-winning producers/engineers, in Rome to convocate a new broadcasting standard; one with the potential to change the way all music is produced and broadcast. Competition for places was always going to be keen, but a lightning spate of to-ing and fro-ing (plus maybe a wee bit of leverage with a UNESCO credential) committed me to a presence in the Eternal City.

Yet, there is more icing to this already jammy cake. It transpired that one of the speakers, Bob Katz, author of "Mastering Audio" and sonic guru at Digital Domain was conducting a full-day seminar the day before!

If anything, this was more important (if that's at all possible), since I'd earmarked Digital Domain as the likely Mastering house for 4 de Diciembre's CD, at a time even before Bob had been commissioned to re-Master much of Fania's back catalogue. It was the ideal chance to meet Mr.Katz beforehand; be taught audio mastering from a world authority; and, as a mix engineer, to learn what to do, and what not to do, so as to avoid painting a mastering engineer into a corner.

The unique selling point was modestly tucked away in the prose of the seminar programme. It simply said, "Bring your mixes for evaluation and to see how they might be mastered".

For me, this was the ultimate. If I were able to produce a final mix of any of the salsa band's songs, and if it was to be accepted for evaluation, I would have a chance to understand how the production could be improved before it faced mastering for real at Digital Domain. In other words, I could have two bites of the cherry. A most desirable thing.

But you have to be in it to win it, right?

Hence the relative silence of SalsaDiary. Ana's backing vocals and my congas were re-recorded for "Corazón Fugitivo", edited, mixed, re-mixed, and re-remixed. Since I'm also part of the Recording 2 Course currently underway at Red Tape Studios, I was able to evaluate the mix in an alternate professional environment.

I can honestly say that the mix I've just submitted to Bob is done to the absolute utmost of my ability. No excuses. That's crucial because any feedback Bob gives, any recommendations for improvement, will be completely novel. From one of the world's best. Learning can't get more pertinent than that.

For now, it's fingers crossed that "Corazón Fugitivo" will be among the chosen few. And not too long hence, I'll be leavin'..

...on a jet plane...

Yeo Loo Yen

Lead Vocals a la Middle-Side... done!

All lead vocal re-recordings are finally in the can.

The last one 'La Llamada de Ogún' [The Call of Ogún] got the Loo treatment on Thursday; and although there is one more tune, 'Jardín' [Garden], to record, that's yet in the writing stage so it's ostensibly time to move on.

Our rather large vocal 'redo' escapade was nosed on by Digital Domain's advice on preparing tapes and files, particularly the "Gang of Four" stems. One of these stems is lead vocals only (with its reverb), which plainly means no hiding place in regard of performance, technique and engineering. All the tracks, not only my own, must withstand the close scrutiny of one of the world's foremost mastering engineers; and what I did not want, was to find myself in his mastering suite, without something to be proud of. Since there were inherent flaws in the previous engineering, Dave (our new man at the controls) and I have had to start anew.

Middle and Side. Go on... you know you want to!

(Neumann TLM 103 for the middle, and
AKG C 414 B-XLS on the side)

And this singer's having to scoff humble pie.

I used to think that pop singers were poor singers because they relied on composited vocals, and here I find myself doing the same thing. But before you judge me as harshly, there are two pretty big things in my defense:

• auto-tune does not exist in this project, and
• each take is non-identical as regards musical interpretation.

The second point has actually transformed the process of editing from one of potential tedium, into one of creativity, surprise and discovery - exploring the combinations on the route to building the best composite vocal has made a better lead singer. An additional improvement has come about with deploying the mid-side recording technique, which has gone a long way into allaying my fears (as a mix engineer) as to how to get the lead vocals to stand out in the dense mix that 4 de Diciembre's music presents.

Next on the list is to get Ana, Catie and Jeremy in to lay down the coro [backing vocals] using the same method. If things go really well, the results could be astounding. If not, there's always Plan B. And a Plan C...

Loo Yeo

What Is Important?

I will be standing in front of the mics tonight, doing the same as I did last night.

After a decent spell of soul-searching and a heart-to-heart with friend, confidante and co-writer Ana, I've laid my timbale development on the sacrificial altar of Víspera. Playing the past evenings to the first cut-pass mixdowns has crystallised the realisation of how close the album is to finishing. And yet, with my vocals and congas being the first step of the critical path, the work could not proceed until I've done my part.

Ana understands how importantly the timbales feature potentially in the future of 4 de Diciembre; and she too, has made her fair share of sacrifices for the band. Over the snatched moment of her lunch, Ana expressed her preference, candidly and unburdened by expectation, for Vispera's progress to be at the fore.

I'd come nearly to the same conclusion; 'nearly' in that I was still looking for a way to have my cake and eat it. If I prioritised the recording of lead vocals, only a little effort would be needed to prepare for each song, and therefore the rate-limiting step would be the availability of Dave, my-partner-in-studio-crime, to work some magic with Cubase and press the record button. Practice times on timbales and congas (for the next recording step) could be arranged around these dates.

I sent Dave a speculative text and, bless him, he freed himself up yesterday and today in a busy run-up to Christmas. If things go well tonight, I'll have suitable final vocal takes to work on, to keep me from being a glassy-eyed, TV-swilling, Auld-Lang-Syne-singing lounge potato. In-between sessions on the drums, that is.

A timely reminder that in the midst of so much that can be done, determining what should be done can be resolved by digging deep and asking the question, "exactly what IS important?"

Loo Yeo

The Cut Pass

One of the first things a mixing engineer/arranger/producer does upon receiving and listening to audio from the recording engineer is a cut pass. In principle the idea is straight-forward: simply to cut out any material extraneous to the song. The actuality is anything but.

Deciding on what to leave out requires a firm sense of what constitutes the Essence of the song, as gleaned from the different voices of the people - the performers, the lyricists, the songwriters, and the producers - who've had a hand in its creation. For me, having assumed all four roles for Víspera, the cut pass has been at both times easy and difficult.

Its been easy because with the first lyrical melodies from the very start, a completed version of the song has lived in my mind. 'Completed' as I would have performed every part.

The challenge has been in loosening the Grip of Conviction sufficiently to listen, understand, appreciate, and weave a place for my peers' virutoso expressions; so that they augment the vision with their own understanding, making each work richer from the creativity of more than one. And so when it's come to the cut pass, a lot of the work has been emotional-intellectual: in reconciling what I understand the song to be as its songwriter-performer, with the ideas of my friends who've breathed it to greater life.

With my producer hat on, I'm conscious of not to riding rough-shod over 4 de Diciembre's individual musical interpretations - I have to be even more a builder, and a reluctant blocker. It's a team-working thing where:

1. a blocker says 'no' to a suggestion; whereas
2. a builder says, 'that's a good idea, here's how we can make it better.'
   

There are times where elements are left out because they butt heads with others or detract from the focus of the song.

At the editing desk, this translates into the fine-details of:

• slicing audio files at zero-point crossings;
• muting audio regions;
• aligning elements where the attacks weren't appropriate; and
• moving elements into new places.
  

The latter task, that of arrangement (and in some cases re-arrangement), has been the most rewarding; where the products of the first cut pass, rejigged and tidied up of all extraneous parts, have sounded more than a little inspiring.

It doesn't mean that there isn't a long way to go, because there is. But at least after tonight, when Thom's trumpet riff at the beginning of the second chorus plus a couple of stabs during Mike's trombone solo in 'Tributo al son' have been adjusted, I can mix-down all the drafts so that Jeremy, Ana and I can prepare for the next tranche of overdubs in the next year.

There'll be more about that in my end-of-year update but at least by the end of tonight, the first cut pass will have ended, signalling the resumption of the recording phase.

Loo Yeo

To Complete An Emotional Space

The past two months have been intense. The editing of 4 de Diciembre's music has, and continues to be, one of the most demanding challenges - on a par with setting up Verdant, and the completion of my postgrad thesis.

It's not that the recorded performances have been poor, in fact, it's been the converse. Most of the time's been taken up with the pain of deciding what to leave out - the Sonic Archaeology of revealing the essence of each piece.

But the most personally enlightening experience has been having to audition my own vocals listening to every positive and negative, over and over again, as they were chronicled three years ago. Many people I know are uncomfortable with the actual sound of their own voices. With the recordings, this is magnified and relentless. It's harsh medicine.

What were considered good takes then, many performances and tough experiences later, I can better. And with the audio having been aligned, cleaned up, and arranged, the four songs done so far deserve a stronger vocal. As top music producer Richard James Burgess says in his book "The Art of Music Production", a great vocal is the next biggest asset after the quality of the song itself. Mr.Burgess goes on to describe what is meant by a great vocal; and it's not about the technique, although that helps the chances of recording one. Bob Dylan's grammy-winning one wasn't technically perfect - the producer tried for a correction with a 'punch in', but eventually had to abandon the attempt because the emotion couldn't be re-created.

To let the cat out of the bag, I'd been delving into this aspect of performance for months and there are several book reviews to follow. They all offer valuable advice and insight, but the reality of willingly placing oneself in a position of emotional vulnerability can only be done by one person. It's anathema to what we're used to socially. At least it is to me, coming from an East Asian society where cards are played close to the chest.

So it's baby-steps to overcome a giant hurdle (in the Soft Arts, one learns very early on that the hardest thing to overcome is one's self) beginning at band practice, where my vocal's being positioned to 'complete' an emotional space. I've chosen not to mention what I'm doing to my band-mates, so that I might gauge their natural responses; which has been subconsciously positive. The sessions have, in the main, been musically easier and convivial - possessed of a substantial anchoring point.

There's yet a long way to go, but I forsee the vocal re-recordings to take place first quarter of 2011 at the earliest. My voice should be stripped of its defenses by then.

Loo

Measurements Of Expression

The music desk's been my hangout for the past five weeks, and there're two edited songs 'Corazón Fugitivo' and 'Yo Soy El Sonero' sitting smugly on disk to show for it. A vast chunk of the work has been in getting each instrument track aligned; a weakness of computer-based digital recording is latency, where there is a delay in the delivery of music to the recording musician. This delay can vary up to twenty, even forty, milliseconds which means a newly-recorded track is slightly out of sync with older ones.

It not might seem like a lot, but given that the effect is cumulative, and that the ear begins to distinguish two sounds of similar loudness as individual ones from thirty milliseconds onwards (see Haas effect), the alignment of instrumental tracks becomes a key qualitative issue.

That's at the coarse level.

At the fine detail level in terms of artistic interpretation, the single millisecond is King. No-one I've yet encountered can listen to two examples and objectively say, "that's a millisecond later than the other", but I'd contend that that's not how a millisecond's variance is heard. My suggestion is that such minute fractions of time are detectable, and that they are interpretable by the listener in terms of emotion.

If I may take Catie's flute relative to the other instruments as an example: one thousandth of a second (or even fraction thereof) late to early, changes the feeling of her performance from sluggish, disinterested, passive, laid back, mechanical, keen, energised, nervous, pushy, to single-minded. Ten milliseconds is the span of that gamut from end to end. One day after the CD is done, I shall put these up on the salsa website as audio examples.

This concept of fine timing has tremendous bearing on the professional dancer, who trains long and hard for consistency, precision and accuracy - because a millisecond in time, is a millimetre in movement. I've found very few salsa professionals capable of communicating feeling through their bodies in the way that ballet dancer Mikhail Baryshnikov did in a scene in White Nights; he is, for me, dance's equivalent of Maria Callas.

Lest I end up sounding too high-brow, I chose these two because they are paragons of their Art. It is not enough for me to be dazzled by high-speed spins and 'armography'; Wonderment is an easier feeling to evoke than Longing or bittersweet Joy - Wonderment doesn't require the performer to reach out and resonate deeply with their audience.

Salsa has a rich heritage and doesn't deserve to be short-changed with "it's only a social dance" as an argument for a less-than-exemplary emotionally-engaging performance. I look forward to the day when our displays in salsa-the-dance match the millimeter-commanding expressiveness of Baryshnikov. And why shouldn't we expect it to be so, since our evocative performances of salsa-the-music already stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the Greats of other genres?

We certainly don't make excuses for Beny Moré, Hector Lavoe and Ismael Rivera as being "only social singers".

Yeo Loo Yen

Resuming Víspera

It was two weekends ago, in one of the lulls during practice, that I aired my intention to resume the recording project. Ana, Jeremy and I band together on the-more-than-occassional Sunday afternoon to put intransigent rhythm sections to the sword; and with the two of them being the longest-serving members of 4 de Diciembre and both also having invested the most in the creation of the album's songs (after yours truly), it was only right that I broach the matter to them first.

The project had slipped into a state of suspension after Dan and Nathan left at the end of 2008; I'd engaged the former in a paid professional capacity to record us using some pretty state-of-the-art equipment I provided. Accountants would call it an 'opportunity cost': bands are, by their very nature, living breathing things that change, evolve and dissolve; and I wanted capture some of that raw essence while it was there for the taking. We succeeded in getting a wealth of inspired musicianship on tape.

But the more urgent matter of rearranging 4de12 music to a different line-up took precedence; and it wasn't until the process had run its course, culminating in the latest acquisitions of 'La Gota Fría' and 'One World', that I could think about brushing the dust off the project.

All set up for editing, complete with Mickey Mouse timekeeper.

Both Jeremy and Ana were very keen to see 'Víspera' (our album title) awakened, even while knowing that it would take some of my focus away from regular band-related activities. Dan never maintained a studio log, so it would up to me to find out exactly what had been recorded, where the material was located, how it was organised, and what needed to be done to realise the dream.

It's about assuming Ownership of the project once again - and all of the benefits, efforts, and trials that that entails.

So over Saturday, Jeremy and I cleaned up and packed down the recording desk and outboard equipment; leaving only the server, monitors, sound interface, hard-disk recorders and house clock - reconfiguring the recording booth to an editing/mixing studio. A fish lunch at a recently-discovered Japanese restaurant featured somewhere in between.

Yesterday we fired up the Digital Audio Workstation, sighing with relief that all our connections were right, and created a new project file for 'Corazón Fugitivo' which will feature second on the album - the first clean slate of many.

It feels good. Very good.

Loo

Singing On The Edge Of My Seat

Things have been so hectic that I neglected to post about the passing of this milestone last week. We finished on the evening of Tuesday the 12th of February, and it feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders. Maybe it was because of the way the recording went.

Dan had arrived to begin setting up after dinner at about 7:30pm; we were soundchecked and ready to press the record button by eight. In the back of my mind, I was still not sure if I was ready to re-attempt 'Tiempo para el amor' (see earlier post) but I decided to risk the entire session by recording it anyway. The logic was to do it whilst my voice was fresh since it required more delicately controlled tones, as compared to the other remaining song 'Bembé' which is all about the energy. But there was a good chance that a laboured attempt at the first would jeopardise the success of the second.

Who Dares Wins right?

The first run through 'Tiempo' was alright but not scintillating; we both knew there was something better lurking in the wings so we scrubbed it and tried again. That next take nailed the whole pre-montuno section. Trying to carry momentum through, we moved to the inspiraciones and closing lines which were a little more involved since Dan had to cue my entry points: I prefer to sing with just congas, piano, bass and some hand percussion, with a lowish level of my own voice without reverb in the headphones so that I can hear what I'm doing to the mic; there's not a lot else to act as markers.

Momentum is difficult to maintain; the start and stop nature of 'recording and listening back' essentially precludes it. However, buoyed by success Dan loaded up 'Bembé'.

The beginning of the song is gentle with an open structure. That reveals everything about timing and initiation of tone. Several failed attempts at a flawless start saw me sitting down in the recording kitchen, glumly chewing in a couple of 'vocal zone' lozenges in an effort to soothe my voice. It was starting to look as if it wasn't going to be Bembé's night.

Lengthening the attack on the vowel did the trick, and we got the first half of the song done in one take bar the second verse. That took three takes. At one point Dan asked (rhetorically) "who wrote this verse?" because of the rapid-fire stream of syllables to be executed in one breath. Gurgle. I wasn't sure even then that everything was clearly enunciated and was just about to have another shot at it when Dan suggested that I listen to it - because he hadn't detected any smearing or tripping. He was right. The words did not skip as lightly as I would have wanted, but Dan had a point in that the way they were sung brought out the definition of the second verse.

The Chinese have a saying with translates literally into "To draw a snake, and then to add legs" which means to create something right, and then to make it wrong by not leaving it alone. Far be it for me to ignore an ancient proverb.

Frustratingly, the final hurdle proved to be the final two lines. But at last, by 10:30 pm everything was wrapped up. Like Catie who has finished all her standard flute parts, I too, felt a little bit of sadness. Only just a little bit.

I will always remember it as a precarious night, when it was touch and go whether things would work out. And the happy ending

Loo Yeo

I Need More Practice

A curious melange of Contentment and Disappointment. That's what I'm experiencing this morning.

The night before I'd laid down the lead vocal lines for "Tiempo para el amor". Of all of the songs we'd written for the suite, this one has been the most reticent to reveal its character and potential (to me at least). Always in the back of my mind, I was thinking that I could make it better... stronger... and often I felt a tinge of guilt, if you could call it that, for not having spent enough with it to do it justice.

So in return for a sizeable chunk of the Christmas break, Tiempo got a stronger melodic line. And even though I didn't feel ready, I decided to damn the torpedoes and go for a take. I was right... I wasn't ready and that's where disappointment creeps in. The optimist in me expected to deliver a song I hardly knew, to recording standard, in one evening. Surely I was good enough for that?

What comes back from the recording process is always unforgiving. For me, it's often brutal and all too rarely for my liking is it beautiful. In the cold post-recording light, I had to admit that there was still a lot of work to be done. But as a world champion latin dancer said to me once, "honest feedback is like medicine, it tastes bad but it makes you better".

And now I've got a better idea of what I want, and what I need to do to get it:

• I need to practice singing it in a higher key, so that there'll be enough headspace for me to sing onto the note from above;
• the tone I'd like is a lightly supported head-voice;
• the lyrics should be expressed with gentle subtlety but with solidity; and
• there should be a greater sense of air around the vocals.

It'll help that I've got the new vocal melody on tape to use as a template. And although I would have much preferred to have gotten it right first-time, hindsight knows that it wasn't realistically so.

That there was no lack of trying, and that there is a clear path to doing better, I think that's good enough reason for a fleeting flirt with contentment.

Loo Yen

Que Viva Changó

By a strange turn of events we ended up celebrating the 4th of December at my place tonight. We had planned originally to record the guide melodics on Thursday the 6th, but one thing led to another and it got nudged forward by a couple of days. Now I'm not sure if many people would class a recording session as a celebration but we certainly did this time, although we sorely missed Catie who had to travel to Folkestone unexpectedly on a work-related matter.

I called Mei's on Charles Street, my long-time favourite Chinese restaurant, shortly after close of work to place an order for the obligatory salt and pepper squid, and Singapore-style spicy udon noodles, and a plethora of other goodies. I had just enough time to pick them up, jump in a taxi, arrive home, and get the rice in the rice cooker when Dan arrived to set up the recording paraphernalia.

Here the AMT wireless microphones came into their own: the Roam 1 Elite on Carolyn's tenor sax in the attic and the Roam 2 in Jan's violin one floor above gave crystal clear sound with minimal setup. Dan reckoned it cut the time needed down to half; it certainly meant less trailing wires. Thom was also upstairs blowing his trumpet into the Shure Beta 91 gaffered into the reflexion filter (we're finding lots of uses for that configuration), and Mike was on the ground floor playing his 'bone into a Neumann KMS105. The much underrated Samson S-phone four channel headphone amplifier allowed Dan to give everyone the mix they individually wanted in their headphones.

The guys rolled up at 7:30pm as planned and hungrily fell on the still-warm food, washing it down with cups of tea. The scene is a jovial one: relaxed and warm. I remember my very first session at Yellow Arch as being a tense affair, and this was the polar opposite. Not a long while after and with bellies full, it was time to get going. While the guys were on soundcheck, I popped out to the local off-licence, the rather excellent Dram Shop for: Golden Glory (a badger ale) for Dan, Hebridean Gold (a Skye ale) for Carolyn, some Indian Pale Ale for Mike, and witty repartee with the sales-lasses for me.

The mantra of recording studios is 'keep the musicians happy'. For Cuatro de Diciembre, feeding and watering them is the best way. Oh, and there was also chocolate.

I had thought initially that not having Catie there would prove a very difficult obstacle. This didn't turn out to be so, as the guys had practiced it loads and kept track of the spaces for flute. 'Bembé' was the first to get the guide treatment and we kept the third take - there is always an element of playing, listening, reviewing and rerecording, but where it was once a luxury back in the bad ole days when we used to hire studio time, with our own step-up we can afford to take the time to do it right, even at guide stage. It's helped our musicianship loads and I would recommend it to any conjunto with the expertise who might be slightly balked by the initial costs.

Then came 'Recordando Africa' followed by 'Tiempo para el amor'. Somewhere along the line, Nathan turned up to join the party, as did Ana after work. On reviewing the first take of 'Tiempo' both Mike and Thom, after discussion with Dan, worked out a different arrangement which yielded a stronger take. It's always nice to see that happen at a recording session; I think it indicates confident musicianship in a relaxed atmosphere. Kinda sums up 4de12.

And it's funny how whenever we add a new series of tracks to the songs, we change what we think its central theme should be. Well at least I do anyway. Take 'Tiempo para el amor' for example:

When we laid down the framework, I thought that it would centre on the relationship between the vocal and piano; then when timbales and bongó went on, it had a more bolero character; adding the hand percussion gave it a more son montuno flow. Now with the melodic guides, it has a great old-time pre-mambo feel.

I think that's one of the things the guys value about playing in the band. Everyone knows that they have the freedom to interpet the songs in their own way, and yet everyone is sensitive enough to accommodate everyone else. And so as the 4th of December 2007 drew to a close, we had all the necessary guides for us to resume recording in the new year for finalised takes. Ana is next up on backing vocals; we just have to sort out a schedule between her and Dan.

And I'm at home with a lot of left-over food.

Today's been a mighty good day.

Loo Yeo

Víspera

It's the 3rd of December, the eve of Changó's day, and in a few hours time revelry will commence in Cuba.

'Víspera' (Spanish for 'Eve') is also the name of Cuatro de Diciembre's debut album. 'Víspera' is more than about an evening before, it is the moment presaging change: from 'Hijos de Cam' which tells of change's inevitability; 'Corazón Fugitivo' in the heartbeat of escape; 'Llamada de Ogún' on the passion of liberation; 'Tiempo para el Amor' on the uncertainty of rediscovery; 'Recordando Africa' in the quickening just before passing...

And there is also change in real life.

We should be seeing the posting of our first live track 'Recordando Africa', garnered from our performance at Leeds Met, on our various sites. It is a big step for us indeed; to put up something of a suitable recording standard from a live performance. Those who perform can appreciate what I mean. It's ironic in a way... that we had first embarked on the studio recording project as making a memento of our playing together, and to find ourselves beaten to the finish line by this milestone.

And with this act, we should have found the main driving force behind the recording project as having vanished, had not the studio project had taken a life of its own - energised with our determination to see it completed.

There is one smaller irony: that the first song would be 'Recordando Africa', which is about passing on to another place. I think most of us in the band would agree to it being the ugly duckling of our practices, and yet a beautiful swan of our performances.

Víspera is turning out to be full of surprises.

Yeo Loo Yen

Yo Soy El Bajista, Otra Vez

My bass is right now with Stuart at Electromusic in Doncaster, being restrung and having its setup checked.

I've decided to wimp out and change to lighter-gauge strings since Ana's become the regular bassist in the band. It's taken me a while to overcome denial - that I'm no longer as sharp nor as strong as when I used to be, and this step is my final admission.

The change in tension and the settling of the neck (the bass, not mine, silly!) warranted a full check-up, and I expect to have eliminated the spectre of fret-buzz when I get it back. You might think that going for the higher-gauge strings in the first place was masochistic, but in my defence, I didn't really know what I wanted then - being new to playing bass and all.

As you may have guessed, all this is in aid of the recording.

I'd been fortunate enough to acquire the rather fabulous Mark Bass TA501 head and Mark Bass 104HR cabinet, and this has prompted both Dan and myself to decide to re-record ALL the basslines to all of the songs. Mark Bass has made THAT much of a difference.

I'm finding it a daunting prospect, especially since I'm not playing regularly any more - maybe I'll feel better about it once I've got a few songs recorded under my belt. But at least I can start practicing the bass again now that Bembé's progressed to the practice stage, and since Ana's going home to casi-Gijón for a month. It means that I can lay down the tumbaos while Nathan's on lead vocals - playing in the band context will be a great help in knocking the rust spots off.

Hopefully Stuart can have it ready before this Wednesday's practice.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Jeremy and I are laying down more guide tracks for El Tambor, El Gallo, Getting It Together, (and maybe more) this Saturday. Then I'm putting down the conga tracks before the bass. At least I'm keeping in touch with the congas - Whib can only make it once a week, so I get to fill in on the other day.

I guess this is my meandering way of expressing regret, of how tough I'm finding it to keep on top of several instruments when I'm not full-time in music.

But rest assured that you would not be able to tell that from our recordings when the album is finally available. We owe it to ourselves not to let that happen.

Yeo Loo Yen

Timbale Fills... done!

Nathan was on fire last night.

Nueva Generación was the best I'd ever heard him play it: a practice, under the record button, or onstage. As a song that would be made or broken in large part by the timbales, this was the best possible result. And then he went on to add to the feel of Llamada de Ogún; a song that we didn't think could be added to wrt. percussion. Wow!

This was the best way we could have recorded it - the timbales sound as if you're right there playing them. The difference in Sound Pressure Level (SPL) between the rides and the fills was... aww heck! I'll spare you the gory details.

[Get thee hence, recording-tech dweeb!]

Having put all but one of the timbales tracks to bed, we can now turn to editing and preparing to record Harris on bongó; whom incidentally, is so cool he's travelling all the way from Nottingham to lay down the beats. I've set Bobby on the task of getting the Meinl bongó stand for me as I type.

And now that we've been able to pack-down the gear, the front room is available again for band practice. We're all looking forward to playing music together again after a fortnight's enforced watery break. I'm really looking forward to trying out the AMT Roam 2 unit on Jan's violin tomorrow night having already decided to go ahead and get the other Roam units for 4de12. Again, Bobby's on the case.

Lastly, the band (read Nathan) now has a presence in facebook: Cuatro de Diciembre. Pop in, say hello, make Nathan a happier man!

Loo

Back on the Recording Trail

I'm feeling a little more relieved after the weekend.

On Saturday, Jeremy and I hooked up to play our way through the entire piano/conga structure of Bembé. It had been a long time since we had worked together in such a manner. The refreshing change must have been welcome because the section transitions and variations that emerged were truly inspired. There will be a few more of these between us before the song will be ready to present to our fellow band members at practice. I'd really like to debut it at our gig on October the 13th.

Then on Sunday, the recording of timbales began for real. Again, the break (this time of three weeks) may have done a lot of good. Dan, having thought about the previous attempt, decided against using the Beta 98s on the skins, instead opting for the SM57s I'd recently acquired. We used the sE Titan on the bells and the Beta 91 on the reverse of the cymbal, and the results were improved by miles. The bells went through the Focusrite Liquid Channel, and the rest needed very little EQ and no compression nor gating - always a good sign that the right mics are in the right places.

A massive thumbs-up to Bobby at Music Technology for the sE Titan recommendation; it has a more hard-core sound than the Neumann TLM-103.

This spate of sessions is to record the Ride patterns which I mentioned in an earlier post. Nathan agrees that recording in this way is much more relaxed, and we managed to chew through four songs. The surprising thing to me was how quickly it happened; I was dreading the amount that had to be done for En la sangre but it didn't turn out to be that onerous in the end. Maybe it's because I wan't the one playing this time, or maybe Nathan and Dan made it look easy. I am glad though, that I'd spent the time listening to the guides and sketching out some arrangement which gave us a loose basis from which we could work from.

Although the session was very much target driven, there was plenty of room for the creative process; indeed, I think that the clear goals helped stimulate an understanding and focus that catalysed the creativity we experienced that day. There are still four or five more songs to do before we pack down for practice; we were hoping to do some last night, but the record-breaking rainfall and resulting floods in Sheffield conspired to delay Dan on his way home from work for six hours.

Elements permitting, we'll resume tonight and perhaps tomorrow, with a mind on finishing the rides as planned before our twice-weekly practice sessions. This would be ideal, as we'd like to start recording the solos on Sunday and have them done before Dan's holiday trip.

Btw, Bembé's gonna rock!

Loo Yen Yeo

Performance Improvements After Millhouses

The changes we had brought into place post our Sabroso gig have made the positive improvements as had predicted.

The most telling was with the way we start our numbers, most of them are now cued in by Dan using a count-in and abanico. The feedback has been that we're now sharper with our entries, getting going straight away, and that in turn gives our music more impact. The implementation still needs more practice to make it perfectly slick, but that does not seem to be that far away now.

In terms of practices, I'm going to start using the chékere instead of the shaker because of its volume, that it can be played at higher tempi, and that it's more visible from stage. Things will start to pull together even more as Wib gains more stamina, Nathan becomes more at ease with the singing process, and I get used to performing and filling the stage again.

As mentioned previously, I've recently acquired a Mark Bass amp-head and cab for our recording and live work which should significantly improve our sound. The next pieces of equipment should be: the well-regarded AMT roam 1 for Carolyn, so she doesn't have to "snake-charm" the mic with her saxophone; an AMT Roam 3 for Catie's flute, plus the AMT WS for her alto which ideally would plug into the Roam 3 unit; and another Neumann KM-105 for yours truly.

The added advantage of the AMT Roams is the mobility it offers our melodics, which will help the band interact and develop its stage-craft. Instead of a Roam 1 for Mike, I expect that we'll use the hard-wired sE Titan on Mike's trombone (which I hear is great for the job); so that he can vary his volume by playing distance and continue using the mute, which he can't with a clip-on mic.

Having had a chat with Nathan, who is the bongó bell king, we'll both stick with hand percussion as lead singers: him on bell and güiro; and me on shaker, maracas and chékere. The both of us would re-inforce the percussive framework by providing the downbeat and backbeat accents respectively, giving Dan and Wib more freedom to manoeuvre. I eventually forsee us having a fibreglass conga or quinto up front with a Remo Fibreskin, so that Nathan could play it with the bongó bell beater along with the bell, or I could provide the tumbao to help Wib solo more freely.

There are advantages to having fully-fledged percussionists as singers.

Those are not insignificant investments, which I'll be very happy to make when the recordings are further down the road. Until then, I guess I'll have to save my pennies for the unexpected that the CD project always seems to throw at me.

Loo Yen

Recording Timbales

is going to be one of the toughest of the upcoming challenges facing the recording project. There are two general approaches as to recording them: using the classic dual-overhead mic technique which gives plenty of atmosphere but little fault-tolerance nor ability to customise sound; or to close-mic everything for a highly customisable sound at the expense of time and data storage space. We're doing the latter.

We'd already had a dry run at recording Nathan on timbales, and learned a lot from the process. Primarily, we found that the bell sounds were bleeding into just about everything else because of the high Sound Pressure Levels (SPL). Also the recorded tones of the skins lacked the ring we were looking for, and that the cymbal sounds hung around for too long.

There are a number of steps we've taken to achieve better and controllable sounds.

• I've acquired three splash cymbals to cut short the cymbal accents, and a hi-hat on which Nathan could play the ride rhythms and still choose the level of sustain, in a manner of playing similar to that on a bell (but perhaps with more subtlety).
• We have more recording stuff coming in: an sE electronics Titan microphone which should have a higher transient response due to its titanium diaphragm capsule, and also be able to handle the higher SPL; the AKG C414 B XLS which is an excellent all-round mic, used successfully in recording a variety of percussion instruments; and two more sE electronics reflexion filters to minimise reflected sounds from the ceilings to the overheads.
• The recording itself will be broken up into at least three phases: ride rhythms, accents and kick drum.
• Dan's going to try a more central placement for the Shure Beta 98 mics on the skins to get more ring.

I'm sure that other matters will crop out of the wood-work. And although the recording of timbales has expanded to a daunting 3-stage process; Dan, Nathan and I feel that this is the approach most likely to get the sound and feel that we want.

Time is knocking on a bit now. Harris is likely to return to Greece in October to perform his National Service, and I would very much like to capture his inspirational bongó playing before he does. Working backwards from there, we should aim to have all of September to record him, which means we have to get a mixdown with finalised timbales to him by the beginning of August. This just leaves a month and a half or so to get these recordings done.

Bearing in mind that this is summer, and that holiday times are upon us, you can see why there is a sense of urgency in meeting this immovable deadline.

Loo Yeo

Hello MOTU

The recording project hit a nasty technical hitch a few weeks ago which made life pretty uncomfortable.

The situation was this: we had two hard-disk recorders (Alesis HD24XRs) capable of recording a total of 24 channels at 24-bit 96kHz and we need more than 50 channels per song. We get around this by copying the recorded channels onto our server (Dell PowerEdge 2950), play back the channels from the computer (using Cubase 4), whilst recording more onto the hard-disk recorders. Sounds easy, right?

Yes, with the right equipment.

Except we weren't using the right equipment, and we didn't know it.

Let me elaborate.

The real trick is in synchronising the playback with the recording. At first we were using a Focusrite Saffire Pro 26 I/O as the sound interface linked to the pc by firewire, and to the Alesises (?plural?) by MIDI. The Saffire was slaved to the house clock (Apogee Big Ben) by BNC. Cubase would stall intermittently when we hit the 'Play' button, returning control to the console several minutes after hitting the 'Stop' button. There was a lot of MIDI activity, during the interminable wait. Quite frustrating to be twiddling thumbs more than recording timbales.

Salvation: Mark of the Unicorn. Hallelujah!

I called up Bobby, our man at Music Technology and he recommended the MOTU 828 mkII USB. We got it in, partially on the basis that it had an ADAT synch, installed and configured it (a process that took a few days), and it's been working beautifully ever since. The only minor hitch was that the Big Ben would not recognise it as being terminated via the BNC, so we went with the RCA connectors instead.

With a company name like 'Mark Of The Unicorn', you gotta be pretty confident in your stuff; and they don't disappoint. The software for the product is well written and timely. I can't say the same about Focusrite.

We have a Focusrite Liquid Channel, which is an exceptional product; and it was on that basis (and lack of unfavourable reviews) that I pursued the Saffire and the Saffire Pro. It proved to be a costly error.

So in the final analysis, if you want to synch a PC running Cubase 4 to Alesis HDD recorders, consider the MOTU. I've relegated the Saffire Pro to my live rig.

You live and learn.

Yeo Loo Yen

Cándido's Tumbao

The tail end of last week was when we managed to get the equipment fully synch'ed. The Dell PowerEdge 2950 running with Cubase, the latency of the Focusrite Saffire Pro down to 2.0ms, high quality cables throughout, the lower-output Mackie HR824 replaced, and everything that was eligible hooked up to the Apogee Big Ben.

I'm still disappointed that the Saffire has a propensity to disconnect itself due to driver instability. This is a known issue, and I'm impatient to have that problem resolved because it's a lump in our workflow; trying to get it to re-engage after it drops out. I understand why it's so well regarded and reviewed, but surely this matter needs prompt attention. I was also surprised with the Mackie monitor not living up to its reputation in terms of quality assurance. The theory goes that they're delivered to retailers in four-unit clusters, and consecutive serial numbers are matched. This has not been my experience. One of the pair was DOA out of the box. The other pair had a nearly 6dB disparity in output. Eventually I found one that matched closely enough the output of my original "hot" one, but was far from being consecutive.

Given that the Big Ben is reputed to increase resolution of the stereo field, unmatched monitors don't make that assessment possible. I'm figuring out solutions now.

On Sunday we were back in the recording saddle once again, beginning with the guide piano and vocals for "Tiempo para el amor". Then the conga and tumba were set up and mic'ed. There followed a marathon session of my playing Cándido's tumbao for "Llamada de Ogún" until I got an acceptable take. Now I can play the regular stuff in my sleep / 'til the cows come home but this groove is something else altogether. It's a lot like the bassline in "Corazón Fugitivo" which reveals errors and drift very easily. When that happens, the only option is to start all over again.
Several hours later, we got a stronger take than the one I'd laid down a few months ago. Nailing a finalised take of Bolero rítmico and tumbao moderno for "Tiempo para el amor" was a snap after that.

Monday and yesterday were supposed to be bassline recording days, but with my left hand still tired from the conga session, Dan and I thought it best not to push the issue, and we went to first mixdown mode instead finishing six songs. We should have "Recordando África" and "Llamada de Ogún" finished before band practice tonight; so the band can have it as a take-home pressie.

So I've got a lot to look forward to... a fun-packed evening promising capers and frolicks as we prepare for our gig (with brand spanking new line-up) on the 20th.

Loo Yeo

All Has Not Been Quiet On The Western Front

Although it might seem like it from the lack of postings.

I was hoping to write sooner, once we had every scrap of equipment up and running, but that's proved not to be the case - must be one of life's universal constants. So we've laid down the guide melodics for six of our eight recorded songs and have run out of tracks until we manage to offload and configure playback from our pc. That's the hold-up. So this week has been set aside for infrastructure and configuration issues, after the resolution of which we should be flying along again.

I did manage to find the time to pop along to Bar Cubana on Friday, as a consolation for not being able to attend Dan's 21st Birthday party, after being held up due to the family business. Having not seen so many friends in several months, it was nice to be reacquainted either on the dance floor with the ladies, or on the sidelines with the gents. Dancing in such a confined space is no small challenge, but it was great just to get out from the hermitesque existence of a DIY recording musician. It was the perfect excuse to keep it simple and basic, and much more enjoyable for it.

Keeping the dance structure as open as possible leaves lots of room for rhythmic embellishments. Over the years, there's been less and less call for the use of turns to generate variety. Perhaps this is what it means to dance as a musician.

More later,
Loo