Desk jockey

Those familiar with the biographies of Phil Spector and Joe Meek may wonder why anyone would ever aspire towards becoming a record producer, but of late, a significant number of local luminaries have been making tentative moves in that direction.

Empowered by the MP3 revolution and the generalised software-savvy tenor of the times, many acts are either taking responsibility for recording themselves, or, after deciding against an expensive trip to the studio, are hooking up instead with a techno-literate pal. Danny Todd has been adding touches to the work of Alloy Mental and Robyn G Shiels; Six Star Hotel have called on the expertise of both Rocky O’Reilly and David McNair; and Dave McCullough’s name crops up on sleeve credits with noticeable regularity.
Ben McAuley, guitarist and songwriter with Three Tales, has also been busy building up a striking freelance portfolio – helping escape act with their fine new EP, bringing some poise to Mojo Fury, and helming sessions for the aforementioned Mr Shiels.
McAuley’s story is a pleasingly typical one. Starting off as an inquisitive musician intrigued by the “black art” of production, and powered by hungry autodidact enthusiasm, he threw himself into a crash course in recording techniques; and, following a spell off-stage quietly honing his craft, has gradually emerged as a figure of much accomplishment and integrity. McAuley’s move behind the mixing desk has been an incremental one, but, significantly, the initial steps were made during his first trip (with his group at the time) to a local studio.
“It turned out okay,” he reveals, “but it was almost by accident that it did. I think it was a pretty common situation for a young band to find itself in. We didn’t have an aesthetic in mind, didn’t know what we wanted, hadn’t the vocabulary. So, we couldn’t really articulate how we wanted to sound. The producer then had to fill in a lot of blanks.
“It was a kind of Mexican stand-off, and he ended up just doing what he normally did – which was fine, but it wasn’t what we wanted. I mean if we’d been able to tell him what it was we had in mind, I’m sure he would have done it, but we just couldn’t. So no one came out of it that happy and I’d say that would be a fairly common experience.”
The role of the producer is varied and dependent on the individuals involved. But anecdotal evidence suggests that the ideal specimen is a mongrel mixture of boffin, therapist, bouncer, dictator, chemist, translator, magician and confessor. McAuley claims that being a musician himself has thus far helped no-end.
“It’s been really important. I’ve been involved for so long I can respect what they want rather than what I want or what I think they should want. The kind of bands I’d work with would have that indie DIY ethic. Really I think they’re indie bands who want to be recorded well but who don’t want to end up sounding like Aerosmith.”
Although Ben’s progress would have been unimaginable without the advent of production software packages, it can also be argued that their democratising potential also poses a threat to the role of the producer itself. Ben, though, warns against penning any premature obituaries.
“Anyone with a PC can conjure something up that sounds like a real song, even if it isn’t,” he says. “So, in that regards, producers are redundant these days. But personally I think that when you chose to work with a good producer, what you’re paying for is the expertise, the experience, the ideas, the knowledge.”
With sessions for Pixie Saytar and Canizares lined up in the near future, it seems like his approach has won quite a few admirers. But according to Ben, there’s plenty of work remaining, and plenty of battles still to be fought.
“There are loads of albums released these days by crap bands with no mistakes on them,” he says. “But they’ve no personality. They use compressors and limiters to make them all sound the same and it drains all the life from the music. Bands say to me ‘I really want this to jump out of the speakers,’ and I reply, ‘Okay, but you’ll lose all the contrast and dynamics.’
“Record companies want the CD to be full of sound, every level pushed up for maximum effect, no spaces, no silences. And what happens is the guitars don’t sound like guitars and the drums don’t sound like drums. And the bands, ultimately, don’t sound like humans. But I think music sounds better when there’s some light and shade there – when it’s human.”
You can email Ben McAuley at [email protected].