Photo: Jack Lue
For Chris Baseford, the fascination with making records started long before he ever set foot in a professional studio. Today, he’s helped shape the sound of acts like Nickelback, Daughty and Shinedown, to name a few. We caught up with him to talk about his journey and why Superior Drummer 3 remains an essential part of his creative process.
If we rewind to the very beginning: What sparked your interest in music?
Music was always a big part of my life growing up. Both of my parents were musical, and some of my earliest memories involve music playing around the house or in the car. It was just always there.
One of my earliest specific memories is listening to Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the U.S.A. and pretending to play along on a toy guitar. I was probably three or four years old. Even then, I think there was something about the sonics of that album that drew me to it. By the time I was eight, I’d become completely obsessed with bands like AC/DC, Aerosmith and Mötley Crüe. Not exactly what most eight-year-olds were listening to, but they had a “sound” and feeling that was exciting to me. I started playing guitar in elementary school and eventually formed a band with some friends. But looking back, I think I was always just as fascinated by the sound of the records as I was by the music itself. I’d spend hours messing with my guitar amp and effects pedals, trying to figure out how to recreate the sounds I was hearing on my favorite albums. I didn’t really understand what a producer or recording engineer did at that point. I just knew there was something about the way those records sounded that completely captivated me.
“I think I was probably destined to end up on this side of the glass.”
How did you eventually get into recording and find your calling on “the opposite side” of the glass, as a producer, mixer and engineer?
I think I was probably destined to end up on this side of the glass. When I was playing in bands as a kid, everyone else wanted to rehearse and play shows, and I was the guy who wanted to rent a four-track recorder and make demos. The real turning point came when I was 15. I was hanging out at a friend’s house and we watched A Year and a Half in the Life of Metallica, which documented the making of the Black Album. Seeing Bob Rock and Randy Staub working with the band in the studio was a complete revelation. Until then, I hadn’t really considered that making records was something you could actually do for a living. After watching that documentary, I started paying much closer attention to the liner notes on all my tapes and CDs. I began noticing a common thread: the same handful of producers and engineers made so many of my favorite records. It really opened my eyes to just how much influence those people had on the music I loved. I remember deciding right then that it was what I wanted to do. From that point on, the rest of high school was basically an inconvenience standing between me and getting into a recording studio.
Talking about producing, engineering and mixing – essentially three very different roles in the making of a record. Often, they tend to bleed into each other, though. Are you comfortable handling more than one role? Out of them all, is there one you prefer more?
Absolutely comfortable handling the various roles. In fact, I think one of my biggest strengths is being able to move comfortably between all three. When I started my career, those jobs were much more clearly defined. There was a hierarchy in the studio, and everyone had a specific responsibility. These days, the lines are much more blurred, which can be a great thing creatively, although it can also create situations where nobody’s really steering the ship. For me, producing, engineering and mixing are all different parts of the same creative process. Decisions you make during pre-production affect how you record something, which ultimately affects how it mixes. Having experience in all three disciplines gives me a much broader perspective on the entire process. If I had to choose, producing is probably my favorite, but largely because it encompasses the entire process of making a record. I love being involved from the earliest stages of developing an idea all the way through to the finished product. And I genuinely believe that my experience as an engineer and mixer makes me a better producer, even on projects where I’m not personally handling the recording or mixing. Being able to anticipate technical challenges, understand how certain decisions will translate further down the line, and make choices early in the process that ultimately benefit the production is incredibly valuable. That said, I still love engineering and mixing in their own right. There’s something incredibly satisfying about getting an amazing drum sound or taking a great production and turning it into a finished mix. I also really enjoy the variety. After spending a few weeks alone mixing, I’m usually itching to get back into a room with musicians making some noise. And after a long stretch of producing and tracking, sitting in my own studio mixing can feel relaxing and cathartic.
You’re also credited as a co-writer on Nickelback’s “Tidal Wave.” How did that collaboration come about? Is songwriting something you’re looking to explore more going forward?
One of the things I love about producing is that the creative process doesn’t really recognize job titles anymore. When you’re working closely with a band, ideas are constantly being thrown around, whether it’s an arrangement change, a melody, a lyric or a completely new musical section. That’s really how my involvement in songwriting has evolved. I’m not necessarily sitting down with the intention of writing songs, but when you’re in the room helping produce a song, sometimes those contributions naturally become part of the writing process. “Tidal Wave” was one of those situations where the collaboration extended beyond the traditional producer role. I’m definitely open to doing more songwriting, particularly when it happens organically as part of the production process. I think I bring a slightly different perspective because I’m always considering how a musical idea is going to translate into the finished record. That said, I don’t necessarily have aspirations of becoming a full-time songwriter. I really enjoy being the guy who helps take a great idea and turn it into a great record.
You’ve been doing this for a long time now. Looking back, was there a particular album or project that you feel really put you on the map? How did things change for you after that?
I don’t know that there was one particular record that suddenly changed everything. My career has been more of a gradual progression, with one opportunity leading to another. But there was definitely a pivotal moment that helped me make the transition from primarily being an engineer to taking on a much larger role as a producer. I was working with Chad Kroeger on an Avril Lavigne album, having originally been hired as an engineer. Toward the end of the project, Avril, Chad and the label decided they needed one more song, something that leaned a little more toward rock. I saw an opportunity to contribute beyond my engineering role and got involved in helping produce that song. That ultimately led to Chad inviting me to work on Nickelback’s No Fixed Address, not just as an engineer, but as a co-producer as well. That relationship has continued to grow, and we’re now about to release our fourth studio album together. Even after all these years, I still feel like I’m building toward something. I’ve been fortunate to work on some incredibly successful records, but I’m always looking ahead to the next one. I never want to feel like my best work is behind me.
Looking back on your entire journey so far – with awards, nominations and countless big records and collaborations under your belt – which project, song or collaboration stands out most to you on a personal level?
That’s a tough one. There have been so many great experiences over the years, and for different reasons. Getting to work with guys like Tommy Lee and Rob Zombie early in my career was pretty surreal. I grew up listening to their records, so finding myself in the studio working with them was a pretty big deal. But if I had to pick one collaboration that’s meant the most to me, it would probably be Chad Kroeger. Obviously, we’ve made a bunch of Nickelback records together, but we’ve also co-produced other artists, I’ve engineered a ton of his songwriting sessions, etc. I think a big part of why we work so well together is that we have really similar tastes. We grew up loving a lot of the same music, we like the same kinds of songs, and we tend to agree on what makes a record sound great. When you find someone you’re on the same page with, this weird sort of mind-reading starts to happen. Half the time, one of us will say something and the other is already thinking it. We don’t always need to explain what we’re hearing or where we want to go with something because we’re usually both aiming at the same target. The cool thing is that even though we have really similar tastes, we tend to approach things from different angles. I’m usually coming at it from the technical and sonic side, while Chad’s coming at it more from the musical and artistic side. So we might be trying to accomplish exactly the same thing, but we’re looking at it through different lenses. I think that’s a big part of why the combination works so well. We’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time together over the years (in the studio and out) and have become great friends… At this point, he’s family :). I’ve been lucky enough to work on some pretty incredible records with some amazing people, but when I look back at the things that have meant the most to me, it’s relationships like that. The records and accolades are great, but getting to make music with your friends for a living is pretty hard to beat.
You’ve had a long-standing working relationship with Nickelback. When you’ve made that many albums with the same band, what’s the approach going into a new one? Do you consciously try to push things in a different direction, or is it more about preserving the core of the band’s sound and building on it?
I was actually a fan of Nickelback long before I ever met Chad. I always thought their records sounded better than everything else out there, so getting the opportunity to jump in and help continue that forward has been pretty amazing. I think a big part of why our relationship works so well is that the sound I hear in my head when I think of a great record is pretty closely aligned with what the guys hear. There’s never really been a need to sit down and come up with some grand master plan for what a Nickelback record is supposed to sound like. And contrary to what some people might believe, there’s really no formula or set-in-stone method to how we make these records. Each guy in the band has his own unique musical tastes, influences and ideas about what makes a great song or record. They all bring something different to the table creatively, but the common thread is that they’re all incredibly talented at what they do and have a ridiculously high bar for quality. We’re constantly experimenting, trying different things and following our gut. Sometimes that means pushing things in a completely unexpected direction, and other times it means leaning into something the band already does really well. Obviously, Nickelback has a very recognizable sound, but I don’t think that’s something we consciously have to preserve. It’s just naturally what happens when we go in to make an album. At the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make the best record we possibly can. We keep working, experimenting and refining things until we all genuinely love what we’re hearing. That’s when we know it’s done. Then we put it out into the world and trust (and hope!) that the fans love it as much as we do.
“You have to figure out how to turn that microscope off and zoom back out. Something can sound absolutely incredible in isolation and not necessarily be helping the song.”
You’ve mentioned that one of your favorite things is still hearing a song you’ve worked on being played on the radio, on TV or at a hockey game. After all these years and all those records, what is it about those moments that still makes them special?
I think it’s because when you’re making a record, you’re so immersed in every tiny detail that it’s sometimes easy to lose sight of the bigger picture. You can spend weeks or months obsessing over a song. Every guitar tone, drum fill, vocal phrase, transition… all these little things that most people will never consciously notice. Then one day you’re driving down the road, or at a hockey game, and suddenly you hear something you worked on coming through the speakers. For a moment, you’re hearing it the same way everybody else is. It’s no longer a Pro Tools session with a thousand decisions attached to it. But I think an even bigger part of it is the validation. When you hear something you’ve worked on being played on the radio, on TV, or at a sporting event, it’s usually a pretty good indication that the song has connected with people. After spending so much time trying to make something as great as you possibly can, knowing that people are actually enjoying it is incredibly fulfilling. It still gives me the same feeling it did the first time it happened. I hope that never goes away.
You’re a rock guy at heart, but you’ve worked across a wide range of genres, from Latin and pop to hard rock and metal. How much does your approach to producing, recording or mixing change depending on the genre? Is there a fundamental difference between working on, say, a Latin pop record and a metal album?
I genuinely love all kinds of music. Obviously, rock is where my heart is, and a lot of my favorite music has some sort of rock influence, but I love great pop music, Hot AC, country… really, a good song is a good song, and a great production is a great production, regardless of genre. I think the biggest challenge when working across different styles is figuring out what best serves the song and what’s appropriate for the artist and genre. The tools and techniques might change, and the sonic priorities can be very different, but the fundamental goal is always the same: make the best record possible. I can definitely get a little carried away sometimes, obsessing over individual elements of a production rather than stepping back and looking at the record as a whole. I think that’s a trap a lot of producers and engineers fall into, especially when you’re passionate about the technical side of things. But with more experience, I’ve become much more aware of that tendency and better at recognizing when something is genuinely improving the song versus just satisfying my own curiosity or personal tastes. Ultimately, I’m trying to help the artist make a record that they’re the biggest fan of. I’m constantly checking in with them, making sure they’re excited about how things are shaping up and that we’re heading in a direction they’re genuinely happy with. That usually helps keep some of those predetermined rock instincts that are permanently stuck in my bones in check. Although I’m sure a little bit of that stuff is going to find its way into the record no matter what! Haha. And honestly, at this point in my career, most artists who come to me are already pretty familiar with the records I’ve made and what I bring to the table. So I think there’s usually an expectation, or even a desire, for some of those influences and sonic characteristics to make their way into their music.
When you sit down to mix a song, where do you typically start? Drums, guitars, vocals or something else entirely? Do you have a set routine you normally stick to?
I definitely have a workflow, but I try not to confuse having a process with having a formula. There’s also a pretty big difference between mixing something I’ve produced and mixing a record that I’m coming into strictly as a mixer. If I’ve produced it, I’ve usually been involved from the very beginning. I know every track, every part, every little detail of the arrangement, and I’ve probably already got a pretty clear picture in my head of where I want the mix to end up. In a lot of cases, much of the sonic direction has already been established during the production process. When I’m mixing something I haven’t produced, there’s a lot more discovery involved. I’ll spend time listening to the rough mix, getting familiar with the song and digging through the tracks to understand what’s there and what the artist and producer were going for. I want to understand the intention behind the production before I start putting my own spin on it. As far as where I actually start, drums and guitars are usually my foundation. I love getting those elements sounding big, exciting and working together, and then building the rest of the mix around them. One of the things I still find challenging is knowing when to stop listening to individual elements and start listening to the record as a whole. I have this natural tendency to want to dig into every track, understand every little part and obsess over the details. And to some extent, I think that’s necessary. I want to know exactly what’s going on in a production and what every element is contributing. But then you have to figure out how to turn that microscope off and zoom back out. Something can sound absolutely incredible in isolation and not necessarily be helping the song. Finding that balance between paying attention to all those tiny details and maintaining perspective on the big picture is something I’m constantly working on.
“I was still waiting for that magical moment when mixing vocals suddenly became easy. I’m still waiting!”
Is there a particular instrument or element in a mix that you generally find more challenging than others? If so, how do you usually tackle it?
Vocals. Without question. I think getting a vocal to sit perfectly in a mix is one of the most deceptively difficult things we do. With most instruments, there’s a certain amount of flexibility in how you can shape the sound. But the human voice is something we’re all incredibly familiar with, so even people who know absolutely nothing about recording can instinctively recognize when something doesn’t sound quite right. There’s also so much variation from one singer to another, and even from one phrase to the next. You can have a vocal that sounds fantastic in the verse and suddenly becomes harsh or aggressive in the chorus, or a singer whose tone changes dramatically depending on the note they’re singing. I think the biggest thing I’ve learned is that there isn’t one magic vocal chain that’s going to work on everything. You have to listen to what the performance needs in the context of the rest of the mix and respond accordingly. Sometimes the solution is a technical one, but other times it’s an arrangement issue or something else in the mix that’s preventing the vocal from sitting properly. I actually mentioned in my original Toontrack interview years ago that I was still waiting for that magical moment when mixing vocals suddenly became easy. I’m still waiting!
You’ve been using Superior Drummer pretty much since the very beginning. What makes it such an invaluable tool in your workflow? How do you typically use it in your productions, and if you had to pick just one, what’s your absolute favorite feature?
Superior Drummer has been part of my workflow for so long that it’s difficult to imagine making records without it. I’m convinced that in another life I was a drummer. Anyone who’s spent time in the studio with me knows my feet are constantly drumming along to whatever we’re listening to. I can’t help it! I’ve always been fascinated by drums, drum sounds and the role they play in a production, so naturally, I’ve always loved programming them too. I primarily use Superior Drummer 3 as a writing and pre-production tool, but it also plays a pretty significant role in shaping the sonic direction of the records I make. The quality and variety of the kits and expansion libraries allow us to explore different styles, sounds, tunings and ambience before ever setting foot in the studio with a drummer to track. If I had to pick a favorite feature, it’s probably the ability to manipulate the bleed between microphones. Particularly with the room mics, being able to dial back the cymbal bleed while keeping all that great ambience and character from the shells is incredibly useful. It’s one of those things you often wish you could do with a real drum recording but can’t, at least not without some pretty significant compromises. That’s really what I love about Superior Drummer. You get the realism and sonic character of a beautifully recorded drum kit, but with the flexibility to optimize things in ways that aren’t necessarily possible in the real world. It’s essentially the best of both worlds.
Finally, after all these years in the studio, what’s still the best thing about working with music and sound?
I don’t really know why, but hearing a great-sounding record still gives me the same rush it did when I was a kid. There’s just something about the way certain records sound and make you feel that completely fascinates me. And after all these years, I’m still obsessed with figuring out how to recreate that feeling over and over again. Sometimes I wish I could just bottle whatever that magic ingredient is and pull it out whenever I need it, but unfortunately, it doesn’t quite work that way! Every song, artist and production presents a different set of challenges, and something that worked brilliantly on one record might not work at all on the next. I think that’s ultimately what keeps me motivated. There’s always another puzzle to solve, another equation to figure out, another nut to crack. And no matter how much experience I gain or how many records I make, there’s always something new to learn or figure out a better way to do something. I guess I’m still chasing that feeling I got listening to my favorite records as a kid. The difference is that now I get to try to create it myself. And when it all comes together, there’s really nothing quite like it.
