scene

One of the hardest things to do as a musician is to record an album.  Well, recording an album is easy, but recording one that people actually want to hear is hard!  Expectations are very high in a world where professionally created and produced music is available on any radio station, any music store, and of course on the Internet.

Technology has changed a lot since 1993 when "The Edge" recorded our first album.  Back then, we did editing in the studio essentially the same way it was done in the "tape" era - we sing along with a part that needed re-doing, and the studio engineer tries to hit a button on the board at precisely the right moment when the new music is to be recorded, and then again precisely when the section was meant to be over.  You should have seen him hitting that button - no wonder they call it "punching in!"  Many pro engineers got callouses and RSI.

These days even pro studios make use of software packages that anyone can buy, like Pro Tools.  Certainly their mics and their rooms and their monitors are likely to be better than a home studio, but no matter where you record, it's probably happening in a computer.  So you can do amazing things to "get it right" and as that capability has matured - unlimited do-overs, audio effects galore, even pitch correction on the fly!  And of course audience expectations for flawless music have also gone up.

But now that practically anyone can make a "perfect" album given enough time and money, you have to wonder what separates a great recording from a merely perfect one.  And this leads me to the topic of the day, performing in the studio.

I've heard (and arguably made) many recordings that are flawless and yet leave the listener unfulfilled.  It's that "something lacking" that's hard to put your finger on.  And I believe that this results from a focus on "getting it right."  I believe that you can not make an album that people will really love unless your goal is to give them what they need.  You have to give them an emotional experience, to rise above the noise and create something worth fifteen bucks.

Now actually performing in the recording studio is a big challenge!  For starters, there is no audience to play to.  Nobody to give you the usual stage energy that feeds your live performances.  No healthy jitters in the stomach to give you energy.  So getting yourself "up" for the session in the first place can be tough.

What works for me is to visualize the back stage routine.  It's amazing how just running through that sequence in your head affects your energy level.

If you're in the wrong state of mind, like being angry about the day, bringing your life stress with you into the studio, or nervous that thing will not go well, you're going to have a very hard time bringing any performance energy to the job at hand.  Take a few deep breaths.  Relax your body.  Do some Yoga.  Figure out what works for you, but ditch the bad attitude or you're in for a rough ride.

The studio also imposes some other constraints that might be a problem.  You can't move the same way you're used to moving.  You can't stand in the most comfortable configuration (if you are an ensemble).  Some "rock stars" reportedly have trouble getting a good performance on tape, because they can't strut around in the studio like they do on stage.  Remember, everything is integrated and hooked-up in your head, so you can't change one thing about your performance and expect everything else to stay the same!  It takes work.  Find the recording setup that works for you.  It really helps to be working with an experienced, flexible engineer, who knows what has worked for similar groups in the past.

Of course it goes without saying that you need to know your stuff, backward and forward.  Reading music while you record is a "red flag" that you might not be ready yet!  Your base recording, before edits, is going to be *worse* than your baseline for a live performance.  You can piece together nearly anything into a good sounding product with enough studio magic (editing time and money), but it will cost you a small fortune and your engineer may wind up hating you.  And that's not good.

Now with the technical obstacles out of the way, the really hard work begins.  You need to stay with the scene and the objective, just like you would live.  Run the song scenario, and let it affect your person and your voice.  If you can really do this, it will be picked up by the mics in a thousand subtle ways, and that makes all the difference.

Depending on how you record, and how many do-overs are required, you might have to get back into the right head space dozens or hundreds of times, and that is a huge test of your performance chops.  A few attempts at this, and you realize how easy you've had it, just singing whole songs all the time!  If you are in the habit of rehearsing technical and performance combined, you've probably got the skills you need.

So here's your checklist for a great recording:

1. Get a great engineer.
2. Know your stuff.  Come prepared.
3. On recording day, clear your mind.
4. Visualize the back stage routine to get your energy up.
5. Record with the song in mind, not the tech.

Enjoy!

There's nothing that kills a performance faster than underacting, unless it's overacting.  And to be honest, I would rather watch someone with too little energy than too much.  Too little energy is dull to watch, but an "over the top" performance gives me the feeling I'm being manipulated.  It's as though the performer is so concerned that he or she will not reach the audience, they overcompensate and try too hard.  I know you have seen this happen.  Perhaps you have been there yourself!

But let's be clear.  Performance energy is not like a volume knob.  You don't just dial it up to the right level, somewhere in the middle, because the question isn't "how much is correct", it's "how much is believable", and of course the answer is always "it depends!"  It depends entirely on the scene, and your part in the scene.  [And as usual, when I talk about a scene, it could be a literal scene like in a play, or a figurative scene like a musical performance.]  If you're depressed or dying of old age in the scene, or singing a baby to sleep, low energy please.  If the scene is a raging argument or a sword fight, pour it on!  Making the wrong choice would be either a disaster or a stab at comedy.  But if you're clear about the scene and your intentions, and you didn't grow up with wolves, it should be pretty easy to make the right choice!

The same idea applies to loudness in a musical piece, and by the way to most other technical aspects of a performance.  There's very little point in arguing whether a passage should be loud or soft, unless you're tying the discussion back to the purpose of the scene.  You can use the discussion to clarify and flesh-out the scene, so everyone is on the same page.

People have exquisite radar for the inauthentic and the unbelievable.  I suppose it has always been a survival skill for our species.  So don't try to fool them - you can't.

Stage performance only works when the audience is willing to suspend their disbelief, and go along with the assumptions you've set up.  A blank stage can be anything - a kitchen, a bar, a pirate ship - and the amazing human mind will go along with it, as long as the performers go there first, and stay there.  That's another reason why you should never trouble yourself with creating an impact.  You can't control the impact, so it's a waste of your time, and every bit of attention you waste on trying to have an impact is a distraction from the scene, the objective, and what really matters in an authentic performance.

Having worked with many groups, it's really clear to me that without a shared understanding of the scene and the objective, it's hard to get anything right.  But when everyone is on the same page with that shared understanding, it's hard to get anything wrong.