Liverpool‑based Tarek Musa caught his first major break, circa 2016, as drummer and vocalist of Manchester band Spring King, an outfit assembled originally as a vehicle for his solo work. Musa’s production career has since taken in the likes of Circa Waves, the Big Moon and Gengahr, and he continues to release his own music as Dead Nature.
At the moment I can’t stop listening to
I’m in a real nostalgic place right now. Listening to a lot of music that’s pre‑1980s, generally from the world of jazz, exotica, tropicalia and surf: Marcos Valle, Haruomi Hosono, Martin Denny, the Four Freshmen, Quarteto Em Cy... I’m all over the place. But all of that music has this soothing affect on me. A million miles from the kinds of music I work on as a mixer, producer or songwriter, which tend towards being guitar‑ and drum‑heavy in nature. But all these artists have a few things in common that I think appeal to me right now. It’s something about the arrangements, beautifully composed harmonies and perfectly imperfect vocal deliveries. Or simply the way the music was recorded back then, the dynamics, rarely saturating to listen to for long periods. Whatever it is, I’m hooked at the moment.
The project I’m most proud of
I have been across a ton of projects that stick out, for obvious reasons, but none of them would have existed if it wasn’t for the confidence I discovered in myself from working on my own music. When I was a student, I always saw myself as an engineer, someone behind the glass, and never a songwriter. But that all changed in my final year when I had the opportunity to write a couple of songs. One took off quite well back then and sent me on a path that has definitely helped me understand every single artist that walks through the door on a totally different level. That project was called Kankouran, the song was ‘Rivers’. It somehow landed quite a big sync moment with Skins season 6, and became the main song across most commercials for that series. Following that I went back to the drawing board, and that’s when I started Spring King.
I’m forever grateful for my years on the road, whether with indie or major labels, sat in the back of a van or in a meeting of some sort. Without that experience, every artist that walks through the studio doors would just be slightly more alien and unfamiliar to me. But as it is I can completely relate to their situations, because of where my music took me. That might include the frustrations that they’ve got to try to forget when writing a song, the emails they have to get back to whilst tracking a vocal, the lyrics they’ve got to write when they’re burnt out from touring and have to record a new single... My artist career has helped me immensely in understanding the emotions and driving factors of the people I now work with.
The first thing I look for in a studio
I think nearly every session, where there’s an artist in the room, requires instruments or creative pieces of gear that will pull that artist into the zone and inspire them. For a long time my eyes would look firstly at what outboard or microphones were in the room. However, these days I’m more looking for interesting instruments: a rubber‑bridged acoustic guitar, a Danelectro baritone, an Omnichord, a Roland GR‑500... Something unique that an artist might just pick up on a whim and surprise themselves with.
Of course, I won’t complain if there are a few [Roger Mayer] 456HDs or an UnFairchild! Maybe an MXR 126 and RE‑201 Space Echo floating around. Quite honestly, though, I do sometimes miss the limitations I had when I was younger, when I owned a four‑channel interface, an AKG C1000 and a pair of speakers. Making music felt chaotic then, in a different way — more streamlined from idea to fruition — although nowhere near as punchy or varied sonically.
The person I would consider my mentor
When it comes to working in studios, I did a few internships and some shadowing sessions, but what took me around the block the most was being in a band, self‑producing and mixing that project whilst working on as many other projects as I could between tours. That being said, I’d probably say that Markus Dravs has been massively impactful on my understanding of production and other things associated with the business. I’ve chewed his ear off on a weekly basis for a long time now, and frankly I’m lucky he hasn’t told me to get lost after all these years!
Tarek Musa: Usually my references are just about energy and power, as opposed to looking for sonic perfection.
My go‑to reference track or album
Usually my references are just about energy and power, as opposed to looking for sonic perfection. I see it more as a litmus test of how to produce tunes that make you move.
If it’s the ‘how excited am I about this production I’m working on’ test, I usually compare it to the power of songs like ‘Maps’ by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, or a couple tracks from The Suburbs by Arcade Fire. Both of those references aren’t necessarily perfect mixes, they can be harsh on certain systems, and that’s important to recognise because you do need examples that show energy prioritisation in a mix over technical perfection — otherwise I’d end up tweaking unnecessarily. Also, there’s sometimes that desire to place vocals high in a mix but it always surprises me, especially on The Suburbs, how buried the vocal is in comparison to other similar commercial tracks.
If it is that sonic perfection I’m looking to reference, I find Kendrick Lamar productions to be a masterclass in how to use the frequency spectrum to its full potential. When I’m working on electronic music I use Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly record a lot. I reverse‑engineer it to try and figure the separation of instruments out. High‑pass filters, phase inversion and summing can really help me pinpoint how something has been placed in a mix. There’s a track called ‘Alright’ on that album, which really is sonic perfection to me.
My top tip for a successful session
There can be a desire to feel like you need to have achieved something by the end of a studio session, and sometimes the assumed path to that is thinking you can’t stop, that you must keep going until you’ve struck gold. But quite often the best way to achieving that is actually to focus on having a positive energy in the room, which sometimes requires the most overlooked skill available to all of us: taking breaks. Go for a walk, take 20 minutes out or work on something completely different for a while. Refreshing the atmosphere can turn tension into tranquility in minutes!
That aside, and from the perspective of producing on a session — especially with bands — I’d say: preparation. I’ll generally be at the studio we’ve hired a good few hours before the time I’ve asked the artist to come in. I’ll go through the prep with the engineer, setting up the room the way we want and getting everything up and running so that the musicians can walk in and get into performing sooner. There’s nothing that brings the energy down more than a drummer using all their energy on soundchecking the kit.
That means if time or budget is tight, we can still achieve a lot. Knowing what we’re doing with the backbone of the song beforehand can really speed things up and give us time to focus on experimenting more. If there are demos floating around, I’ll have prepared a load of basics like markers, tempo maps, channel setups, potential MIDI parts or even some software synths and sounds so that we have flavours to jump to straight away that might work. It doesn’t always work that way; however, when the opportunity arises, it really does create space to focus on exploration. It’s all in the prep!
The studio session I wish I’d witnessed
Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys would have been unreal to witness. The album was recorded over 25 sessions in multiple, huge world‑class studios, with the best of the best session players. The Wrecking Crew were the ultimate dream team, and the thought of being in the same room as them and Brian Wilson, you can only imagine the ideas that flowed. I believe they were given a lot of freedom on Pet Sounds to try out ideas and suggest changes, and it’s always made me wonder how many revisions, evolutions and alternate versions of each song there could and would have been. How that process was managed, how the decisions were made to determine which tracks made the record, and observing that push and pull between Hal Blaine, Carol Kaye, Glen Campbell and Brian Wilson. I feel like realistically, though, it would be so overwhelming to observe. There would be such a vast amount of information to absorb. We haven’t even mentioned the engineering aspect! Watching someone like Chuck Britz working. I’d have been like a kid in a toy shop.
The producer I’d most like to work with
Shawn Everett would be up there for sure. Experimental and fearless when it comes to exploring new things in the studio. I think that Shawn is a stand‑out producer who always has a few cool ideas and ways of trying things out. It’s fascinating, the way he sees music as a visual composition... using textures and tones to keep each session exciting, never doing the same thing twice. I’d like to absorb more of that and put it into my own productions and compositions.
The part of music creation I enjoy the most
It’s not super common, but sometimes an artist just gives me the keys to the castle, and hands me the freedom to add as many ideas as I’d like to a track we’re working on. That’s become something I’ve found a huge passion for. We generally will record the bulk of a song with the band in the room, the general idea, but budgets can be tight and not everyone can stick around for the whole production period. So consequently I find myself holed up in my production room for days on end afterwards, adding a ton of new and fun parts on my own. I get to be a secret member in some ways!
The advice I’d give myself of 10 years ago
Your knowledge will grow naturally, albeit slowly at times. But don’t fear, because your mind will tell you what it needs to improve on in the weirdest ways. You actually have everything you need to create, yet it doesn’t hurt to stay open to learning new things. Developing never stops, so actively seek out new skills. You may not feel its purpose now, but some things you learn will indirectly guide and inform other totally unrelated areas. As long as one foot is in front of the other the view ahead will always change.