I enjoy engaging people in conversation and hearing different points of view regarding a wide variety of topics. I take pleasure in hearing about a person’s life, their problems and their issues as well as talking about baseball, music, girls, audio, cars, guitars, home ownership, politics, books, movies and the world at large — though not necessarily in that order.
I have an analytical mind and I like to delve into finding answers and understanding for the mysteries of the physical world and the unseen forces behind the curtain that drive and power it. Perhaps my gregariousness stems from the Leo in my astrological chart, or quite possibly it is just too much time spent in backstage dressing rooms, airports, hotels, bars and clubs that has molded me into the outgoing person I have become.
To a fault, I will speak with almost anyone, anytime about anything or nothing at all and, if called upon or not, I have been known to hand out free advice. Believe me when I tell you that I give good advice and the only difference separating me from Dr. Phil is that he had Oprah supporting him in his meteoric rise to fame. He also has a PhD in clinical psychology, a few books and television shows and — being a respected personality with something to lose — he has probably never admitted to giving counsel while inebriated.
Baker Freud
Okay, I may not be America’s most beloved therapist, my advice is probably dodgy at best, and I often give advice when I am less than sober, but then again, anybody who has been in therapy knows that it takes way more than one hour with a celebrity therapist to resolve any problems or issues from which one might be suffering. Even a 13-week television series with a therapist is barely enough time to crack the surface of any real problems and we — as a viewing public — probably don’t need another reality series about morons who are acting out. Therefore, I propose that my method is most likely the superior manner of engaging in problem-solving therapy. My sessions are open-ended and not limited to merely one hour of analysis with a week of waiting in-between. By the end of one of my self-medicating treatment sessions, there’s a good chance that the patient in question will be cured of all that ails them, and if they are not cured by last call, they will at least be pickled and stewed. The downside to this type of remedy is that all my brilliant advice will most likely be forgotten — and the upside to this situation is that all my brilliant advice will most likely be forgotten.
It was during one of these barroom therapy sessions that a musically talented friend of mine started to have a breakthrough and, as his anger rose to the surface, he expressed his distaste for the current state of popular music and how unoriginal it seemed. He decried the lack of talent and originality that appeared to be employed by these well-known artists, and he spoke disparagingly about the many special effects that are used to create an event that is mainly derivative at best. The use of devices such as backing tracks and Auto-Tune made him foam at the mouth with rage and frustration as he derided the “morons” who pay exorbitant amounts of money to see these artists perform their live shows of non-musical music. He fumed that real creative talent is invariably passed over for prepackaged, re-packaged crap, and that he couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to go see one of these shows rather than seeing real musicians play genuinely innovative music.
Being the deft analyst I am, I recognized that my patient had gone over the top and had passed the point of no return. At this juncture, a savvy TV therapist might have called for an intervention, security or a commercial break. Since none of these options were available to me, I tried a little levity and asked him, “Do you know the difference between a jazz musician and a pop artist?” He stared at me waiting for the big revelation. “The jazz musician plays a thousand notes for three people and the pop artist plays three notes for a thousand people.” Wait for it… Wait for it… Nope, the touch of humor failed, and instead of easing the tension it now turned personal as he unloaded his wrath on me.
“You sound guys ought to boycott that crap they pass off as music. You should shut down the amps, turn off the consoles and say no to mixing that junk. Have some conviction and artistry and refuse to be a part of the big machine that churns out the formulaic circus extravaganzas they try to pass off as music.” It was apparent to me that the medical beer he was drinking had produced some nasty side effects and that our session was officially over. The only good advice I was able to bestow upon him was to go home and sleep it off, but his artistic integrity rant did strike a nerve in me, and I started to wonder whether he was correct in his assessment of the “big machine” and how “you sound guys” should deal with it.
Artisan and Artist
When I went to Berklee College of Music many years ago, one of my teachers told me that if I wanted to make a career of music, I had to understand that I had to be an artisan as well as an artist. “Learn the trade first, and the artistry will bloom from that.” It was sage advice, considering that, at the time, anyone who had seen the Beatles or Rolling Stones on Ed Sullivan immediately rushed out to the nearest music store and — after procuring an instrument — formed the next big band. The image of the musician as a self-assured, principled artist who succeeds against all odds while refusing to yield to commercialism makes for a great biopic, but being a principled artist does not necessarily equate with making a living or commercial success.
In regard to “us sound guys,” audio engineering is considered technical work, so by definition we are tradesmen and not artists, but this is true for anyone practicing a craft. We don’t always have the luxury of engineering for a band that we like, in an ideal situation and with state-of-the-art gear. More often than not, we find ourselves mixing in a less-than-ideal situation with inadequate or unfamiliar equipment, set up in a peculiar way to accommodate an event planner who only considered audio as an afterthought. While there are certain requirements we demand in order to do our job properly, there are no instances I can recall when any engineers stamped their foot and — due to their artistry — refused to work with lavalier microphones or because the band was not to their liking. Mixing an act with a multi-media format in a shed or coliseum is as demanding for us as it is annoying to the musician who considers it lacking in artistry.
It’s All About The Job
Plying the trade as a live engineer enables us to work in various interesting places such as television, radio, sporting events, corporate events, theater and concerts. If we want to work as engineers, we take what is available to us at any given moment — with some moments being better than others. Although I’m sure it’s happened, I personally don’t recall ever turning down an event based upon its political bearing, nor do I remember hearing an engineer ever exclaim, “I don’t mix for that party!” While we may not like or agree with the performer, we still do our best to make it sound good and, quite often, our art is eclipsed and overlooked due to the onstage art we are mixing and making shine. In the end, we are tradesmen making a living doing what we do, and if we can garner some artistic satisfaction while plying our trade, then even better. While there are quite a few reasons for turning down work, the lack of artistic integrity on the performer’s part is not one of them. Despite the circumstances, our mission is to make whoever hires us sound great, and when we succeed, it’s because of our artistry that becomes manifest as we ply our trade and work in the field of our choosing. That’s our job!
