A couple of weeks ago, I dropped by to visit Ray Benson’s western swing band, Asleep at the Wheel, along with the crew, who were performing at the Bankhead Theatre in Livermore, CA, about a half-hour away from where I live. It’s no megatour — far from that — but I was genuinely excited about seeing the show (see “Production Profile,” Sept. 2014, page 48). I haven’t seen Asleep at the Wheel in a couple of years, and I also wanted to have a chance to check out the venue that’s just 30 miles outside the San Francisco Bay Area.
The Bankhead impressed me. The staff was knowledgeable and the 500-seat facility itself is modern and well equipped, with a fly gallery and a single bay loading dock — amenities not often found in “community” venues. I wasn’t surprised by the show. Benson always puts on a great performance, despite having to make what he says have been “more than a few” changes in the band’s lineup since he founded the group 44 years ago, in 1970. What impressed me more was having a chance to chat with the Asleep at the Wheel’s crew, especially FOH engineer Jim Finney, who has been with The Wheel since 1983.
There aren’t a lot of audio guys who have been continuously on the road with a single artist for three decades, but Finney’s attitude and approach to great sound has remained unchanged over that time. He’s not one to turn away from new technologies — in fact, he’s all for it, as long as it makes sense for him, the organization and the audiences he is so deeply devoted to. From that viewpoint, Finney mixes each show for the fans in those seats and understands that one oft-overlooked item in any mix is vocal intelligibility — because that’s what audiences want to hear and have come to expect. And Finney, the rest of the crew and band definitely delivered that night at the Bankhead, with a great show and a tight, well defined mix. For them, of course, it’s just another day at the job, though he makes it all seem so easy, especially at 150 or more shows each year, where the next night, every show means a different system, different acoustics and a different venue.
Hear, Here
Over the years, I’ve managed to keep my hearing intact. Yet at the same time, I’m amazed to experience so many big-time, big money productions, where — at least from the audience’s perspective — delivering vocals mixed so that you can understand them seems to be a lost art. In such cases, we frequently are too quick to blame the venue, or the sound system — and may even be right in that regard a majority of the time. And these days, it’s no longer always a function of “bad hall,” “bad rig” or some other such tangible.
There are bad halls and bad systems — we’ve all been there, and there’s no denying that. Yet in the quest do recreate the “sounds just like the record” mix, we may be forgetting the acoustical element, and that the identical mix that sounds great in the living room may not necessarily sound good in a hockey rink at 115 dB. (With some music, an inability to discern words may not necessarily be a bad thing — but that is another topic entirely.)
At other times, un-intelligibility issues can be linked to the circumstances mostly beyond the control of any mix engineer, no matter how gifted, or any playback system, however well designed and impeccably tuned. I like to refer to this as the “mush factor,” and it often creeps in with bands — or individual players within bands — that have no concept of “space” within an arrangement. This often occurs with players of midrange-heavy instruments who play where there is no need for that instrument — often just because they have no concept of being on stage and not playing, so they strum or noodle through, leaving a trail of midrange mush that obfuscates the vocal competing for frequency space in that same range.
A little education doesn’t hurt either. I once thoroughly amazed a guitar player by bringing an amp stand to the show and getting his amp off the floor. This accomplished several things:
1: Raising the amp up eliminated the undesirable low-frequency loading between the floor and the amp, for less bass mush;
2: Raising the amp and tilting it towards him reduced his onstage level requirements.
Suddenly, with the amp pointed to him, he could hear the sound of the amp on-axis, rather than the off-axis sound of the amp pointed at the back of his knees. Suddenly his settings became less shrill and harsh — and at a lower volume. Mission accomplished.
Get Ready to Vote!
Speaking of great mixes and great sounds, now is the time to make your Parnelli Award selections. The nominations process goes through the end of this month, at www.parnelliawards.com/nominate, so do your part and take a few minutes to cast your choices to honor the individuals and companies that reflect the best of our industry. Voting follows in October.
For George Petersen’s preview of the Sept. 2014 issue of FRONT of HOUSE magazine, go to http://www.fohonline.com/foh-tv.
