ROGERS* 1962

These drums are indicative of what many call the “golden era” of Rogers* drums. Even though this kit would have been right at home in many musical styles of that time, it became very popular in both big band and country music of that era.

I tuned this kit pretty straight forward to what might have be considered “common” at that time. It has a very full and wide open sort of tone that played perfectly in The Quonset Hut room. The toms have a nice balance of both bounce and ring, while the kick drum has some nice presence and just enough depth to give it the weight you’d want it to have in a mix. The snare is crisp, defined and round – almost the perfect compliment to any recording scenario, then or now. All in all, I think we captured a perfect sonic specimen of an iconic drum kit.

LUDWIG* KEYSTONE BADGE

Before we had hand-built kits and custom options to last a lifetime, most drum sets, as an instrument, were very utilitarian. In the early days of the recording studio, many drummers just played what was “around”. As a result, many kits heard on classic recordings were made out of pieces never intended to go together or let alone comprise the notion of a traditional “drum kit”.

Since the premise of this session was extreme in terms of being period correct, we wanted to put together a drum set with this narrative in mind. So, this kit is an amalgamation of converted marching drums (kick and snare) combined with an actual “kit” floor tom. The end-result is a truly one-of-a-kind kit that really resonated beautifully in The Quonset Hut room. We also decided to capture this kit with brushes as a nice contrast to the brushed Apollo MIJ kit.

APOLLO

This kit was the “wild card” of the recording. When we set it up and I played it it the room, though, it was immediately one of the favorites of everyone involved.

With the advent and growing popularity of television, kids all over the world were starting to see and hear music and artists in ways they never had before. This was the fuel for manufacturers of musical instruments to boost production to attempt to meet demand. Apollo was a Japanese instrument manufacturer (MIJ stands for Made in Japan) that rode this new wave of musical ambitions right into the American marketplace and homes all across the country.

I tuned these drums fairly tight and dry. The nature of the shells being more than likely a combination of different woods, and varying qualities of wood as well, meant that the head selection and tuning were going to be crucial to keeping the kit sounding like one instrument as opposed to a random collection of drums. The results are startling…what we captured is a very dry, very focused sounding drum set. All of the drums in this kit have a very pleasing attack with just enough sustain and decay. This makes them an ideal choice for denser mixes where sonic real estate is at a premium. The focus and clarity of this kit also made it an ideal candidate to record with brushes, which we also did.

How did you get started in the music business?
I grew up in southern Illinois and came to Nashvillle to go to Belmont University. Like everyone, I did a lot of demos for free during my time at Belmont, a lot of times in the middle of the night. I did demos on a band called Whiteheart. Whiteheart was signed during my senior year at Belmont, and the label that signed them owned a studio which had an opening for a house engineer. They offered me a job and I took it.

Looking back on your career, name a few stand-out moments and productions.
That’s a really difficult question because so many projects are special in one way or another, including the ones I’m working on now. A couple that come to mind are Shania Twain’s “Come On Over” album and the Don Henley record that was just released.

Lots of people talk about the sense of community in Nashville. What’s so special about working there?
There’s a lot special about this town, but the sense of community is no doubt one of the highlights. I’ve spent most of my career here and it’s like being part of a big family.

In a mix, where do you usually start: the drums, guitars, vocals or something else?
Most of the time I’ll put up a rough mix so I can see what the shape of the song is and to see if there are any problem areas sonically. From there, depending on where things lay, I may work on sonics or balance.

Is there any instrument you generally struggle with more than any other in a mix?
Not really. If there’s a struggle, it usually comes from a lot of things sitting in one frequency range and they all need to be heard.

Do you have any mix “trick” you generally fall back on?
The best mix trick is knowing when to stop!

You’ve worked in countless studios. Would you agree that there is a certain “magic” to some of them?
The really special rooms no doubt have something to them. That’s what keeps you going back to them. So many of the classic albums we all love have a signature sound that’s associated with the room they were cut in.

What’s so special about the Quonset Hut Studio?
The Quonset Hut has such an amazing history. Rooms like the Quonset Hut from that period in time were special because they were built with the concept in mind that all the musicians would sit and record in the same room. So the ambience of the room was very important to the sonic “glue” of the record.

Finally, any tips to those looking to make a career in music production/engineering?
Yes, “Strive to be missed, not to be heard”.

When and how did you discover your passion for music?
I didn’t discover my passion for music; it discovered me. It came in the form of The Beatles, The Stones, Jimi Hendrix, and Al Green. Crosby Stills & Nash, CCR, The Who and Led Zeppelin. The music Of Motown. The music Of Muscle Shoals. Of Memphis, San Francisco, the 70’s LA country scene, Max’s Kansas City and CBGB’s. It was delivered in big trucks to enormous record stores, racks teeming with vinyl. To department stores and record departments where a young boy could hide amongt the cover art while parents shopped for mundane household goods. To friends basements that stunk of the Glade-masked odor of ounces of cheap pot and the sound of even cheaper transistor radios. To the early stages of NYC counter-culture FM radio, where DJ’s with names like “The Night Bird” seduced a hundred thousand aspiring high-school aged rock and rollers every night. It was powerful stuff and it demanded passion to listen and to absorb.

How come you ended up in the control room as oppose to playing an instrument? Was the interest in engineering and production always there?
I started my early years as a guitarist, but quickly learned in a very competitive NYC market that I was average at best. A buddy in high school had a 4 track recorder (when 8 track was the pro format), and we recorded many neighborhood artists, along with our own music. The astounding thing was I had no idea you could be paid for that. I quickly got the sense that quite probably this was what a record producer did. I then studied recordings, listening more for the production then the guitar solos. I found it intriguing and inevitably wound up in a studio. The fun part is I still get to play on some of the records I produce. That I had enough successes to sustain a career is a blessing.

You started your career in the studio scene of New York and now primarily work out of Nashville. Talk a little about the scene then compared to now.
I cold-called Lordes Keane, studio manager at The Power Station and talked my way into a job. Essentially, it was a down period for recording studios and Power Station wasn’t in a hiring ‘mood’, as Lordes put it. I rebutted that the industry would recover and having a well-trained & well-prepared assistant would be an asset. I was hired the next day. As a part-time receptionist. But it was an“in”. And suddenly, I was part of a fraternity of world class recording studios the likes of which would never be seen again. The aforementioned Power Station, such a powerhouse that it spawned a star-studded, eponymously-named multi-platinum selling band. The Record Plant. Hit Factory. A & R. Sigma Sound. Right Track. Media Sound. Atlantic. CBS. Electric Lady. Unique. Too many more to mention, all of which were fully staffed with world class engineers, assistants, tech support, all of which had their own sonic culture, signature and following. It was competetive – it was fraternal. Now, it’s bedrooms, plug-ins, downloads, streaming. That’s progress.

How did you end up in Nashville?
While I was working with Talking Heads, I saw Robert Altman’s film “Nashville” and was intrigued. I remember discussing with the drummer and bass player the concept of getting down there and taking the temperature, but understandably, there was little or no interest. Remember, this was 1986 Nashville, not the hotbed of songwriting, production and artistry that currently defines Nashville. I mixed an couple of records for Jimmy Johnson in 1987 and had the opportunity to go down to Muscle Shoals, which I fell in love with. That love affair continues to this day, where Jimmy and I are currently co-producing a project for a young Mississippi alt-blues artist, Wes Sheffield. While Muscle Shoals was an amazing place, commercially it was somewhat in decline at the time. I was then asked to produce a rock band for MCA that was from Nashville – I finally got my wish. Within a few months of working down there, I bought a residence and have maintained a home there ever since.

You’ve worked in countless studios. Would you agree that there is a certain “magic” to some of them?
I have two rather contradictory thoughts about that. On the one hand, the legendary studios where cultural touchstones where recorded practically demand respect. Within these walls, some of the finest examples of contemporary sonic art was created. And I’ve had the luck and privilege to have worked in many of them. Its hard to deny that Aretha Franklin sung “Respect” in Studio A at Fame in Muscle Shoals where I’m producing an artist – and to assume that it has no effect on the psyché of that artist. On the other hand, a room in the hands of a novice creates nothing on its own. It’s the people and their insanely great gifts that have made those rooms reverberate with life, passion and precision. So, for me, the tools have to be in the right hands to cross into near-legendary performances. When you have a talented songwriter tethered to an accomplished artist, competent producer, sensitive engineer and architecturally musical room, the table is then set for magic to occur.

What’s so special about the Quonset Hut Studio?
The Quonset Hut was a place where everything we just described occurred. It was a room that ‘allowed’ all that beauty to happen. And in the skillful hands of remarkable technicians and gifted artists and musicians, the Quonset Hut came alive.

Finally, any tips to those looking to make a career in music production/engineering?
Don’t imitate or emulate. Instead, invent. As you listen to great production, think about how you might have approached that project differently. Also, remember that music production/engineering is not only a creative endeavor, but also a business. Prepare for that. Take time to understand, especially now, what the modern music industry looks like, where the revenue comes from and what a practical role for you might be. If you are enrolled in a school, take some business classes, get a sense for the things that you might not be as passionate about, but will come in handy as you prepare to support yourself. Be open, be a sponge. Spend less time on social media and more time being productive, creating and inventing. Don’t read about it. Do it.