So I’m sat in my studio with three microphones set up, experimenting with different combinations for recording vocals and acoustic guitar. A stereo pair, for ambiance, my new SE X1 close up for depth and bottom end, DI into my new found 1970’s “Micro Amp” peddle , a brilliant piece of kit given to me by Steve Delaney after a drunken night in Sheffield. With the knowledge I’ve gained after many years recording things, starting on a 4 track cassette then up to an 8 track Tascam and then on to 24 track Tascam digital to a fully computerised set up, the hardest thing I’ve found is to get a really good acoustic guitar sound, drums, I do quite well on them, vocals depending on the singer not usually a problem but acoustic guitars I find to be difficult, especially mine. I love the sound of county guitar licks that come out of Nashville, America in general and I can never get bloody close to it. It’s all getting a bit cramped and of course Zac sits right in the middle, where my feet should be and completely refuses to move, he could sit to the left or to the right, loads of room but no. Anyway move all the mike stands to suit his position, finally reach out to press record… can’t quite reach it now, bang my head on the microphone. Loose my temper a bit and shout at him, OUT, which is a generic term I’ve found works quite well to let him know I’m not happy and he should change his actions. Christ the look you get, complete doggy bewilderment, tail wagging a bit slower than normal then back up to speed, eye contact, bastard, yes he’s got you. Go on then. Give up, get on with the recording, half way through on the quiet bits can hear snoring and then that daft yelping thing he does when he’s dreaming about being young and running through a big field being attacked by monsters or the such. The only thing to do, give a big pat and abandon all attempts at fame.
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 23:58:25 +0000