So it happened again. Somebody just asked me about recording an album in analog format.
Reasons for recording an album on analog tape:
1 Help analog tape manufacturers maintain a positive self-image and sense of worth.
2 Hi-fidelity audio is over-rated.
3 It’s artistically valuable and creative to mix your sound with the sound of iron oxide
particles being pulled over deteriorating magnetic tape heads.
4 Wow, flutter, dropouts and equalization anomalies can help distract from errors in
performance and transcription.
5 Nostalgia is important when making technological decisions.
6 Recording technology reached its pinnacle with the invention of (choose your favorite):
Edison cylinders; 78 RPM shellac disks; aluminum disks; wire recording; 33 1/3 RPM
vinyl disks; 45 RPM vinyl disks; analog recording tape.
7 Coal miners, farmers and other rural music performers chose analog technology for their
recordings because they knew those formats would more accurately reflect their sound
than anything dreamed up by scientists (other than those who developed the
technologies they used.)
8 The degradations suffered by sound in the successive stages of production in analog
recording are predictable and enhance its aura.
9 Analog recorders demand meticulous maintenance and adjustment to operate properly,
so using analog technology keeps many highly-skilled and well-paid electrical engineers
employed (on the client’s dime).
10 It’s popular among a fringe of the music industry, and it’s just about to emerge as the
clear leader in sonic bliss.
11 It’s how Bill, Earl, Lester and Chubby did it.
So is analog really better?
Since the 1970’s, I’ve used recording technologies professionally in every stage of audio production. I’ve worked with some of the world’s best analog equipment and some of the cheapest. In every case, the outcome from the gear/technology was completely dependent on its state of repair and adjustment. Only the very best (and most expensive) studios employed an in-house technician to keep their gear working properly at all times. Small studios had to either find studio techs who would work cheaply or for free or use improperly-adjusted and malfunctioning gear and hope that their clients wouldn’t notice. Ouch.
Analog technology records audio into an amalgam of noise, distortion and anomalies. The acknowledged best gear obtained its lofty reputation by either minimizing those shortcomings and artifacts or by contributing characteristics that were part of the signature sound and the commercial success of some of its users. Every electric guitarist wanted to use the preamps that Keith Richards or Jimi Hendrix used. But what about the flute players? Violinists? Vocalists? Acoustic guitarists? Could the signature sound that possibly helped propel Jimi Hendrix’s guitar also work for Joshua Bell’s Stradivari violin? For Joni Mitchell’s voice? For her guitar?
Whose ears do you trust? What about your own?
I know successful producers and recording engineers who have had long careers playing live music in dance clubs and concert venues. I know that they have suffered noise-induced hearing loss. Still, they continue to work well, guiding clients’ work to great-sounding mixes and beautiful-sounding albums. So what is it that they hear? How do they make that beautiful art?
I don’t think their success depends solely on what they hear; I think it depends much more on how they react to what they can hear. When somebody has worked for 20-plus years, critically analyzing, editing and mixing music, they become adept at creatively categorizing, editing, and assembling the aural elements, apropos to their clients’ artistic view. Their great abilities in the studio are due more to their experience and learned sophistication than they are to some super-natural auditory nerve.
Modern digital tools provide an infinite number of possibilities for working with audio. They have eliminated the dragons and shortcomings that have plagued the analog world since recording was invented over 150 years ago. Today, these tools are inexpensive to buy and don’t require an in-house technical staff to maintain. They can beat the old analog equipment at every aspect of recording: frequency response, dynamic range, possibilities for editing, and preservation of signal integrity throughout the production process, from initial recording through home delivery and archiving.
A good engineer will explain to a client/artist what is happening aurally in the studio, and give that client/artist clear options on how to work with the audio to make good art. We trust a good mechanic’s recommendations for our vehicle’s service without stressing over whether she or he really “understands” vintage cars. We trust our dentist and our accountant to examine what we bring to their office and then we trust them to make good recommendations. We don’t insist that they use 19th-century technologies rather than their cutting-edge equipment.
Try this experiment at home. Play an analog recording of music that you’re not familiar with, and a genre that you do not hold dear. Listen intently to the sound quality as well as to the musical content. See if the acoustical shortcomings (the pops, clicks, hissing, changes in pitch, collapsed frequency response and lack of dynamic range) somehow enhance your experience.
One thing that I explain to flat-earthers when they tell me that the sound of vinyl is superior to the accuracies of digital production is that they are associating a lifetime of good memories and warm feelings with their music and its medium. They know their music through the old analog recordings that they grew up with, and both the music and the medium have become intertwined in their mind. The beautiful 12” x 12” record jacket, with space for photographs, paintings and text, combines to their feeling of attachment.
I do enjoy keeping my huge collection of vinyl from the 1960s, 70s and 80s. But I keep it out in the garage, the vinyl resting place (thanks for the phrase, Steve Palazzo.)
Copyright © 2019 by Joe Weed
Joe Weed records acoustic music at his Highland Studios near Los Gatos, California. He has released seven albums of his own, produced many projects for independent artists and labels, and does scores for film, TV and museums. Another of Joe’s productions with British guitar virtuoso Martin Simpson was heard in “The Mayo Clinic,” a film by Ken Burns, which premiered nationally on PBS in late 2018. Also in 2018, Joe released “Two Steps West of the Mississippi,” a collection of his original instrumental music based on American fiddle roots. Reach Joe by email at joe@joeweed.com, or by visiting joeweed.com.