The proliferation of independent record labels in the USA has increased the demand for low‑budget records, and sparked the home music studio market, moving it from spare bedroom demo mill to centre stage. Our man in America, Dan Daley, reports.
When personal recording technology entered the scene around 15 years ago, it seemed like manna from heaven — it enabled those who were spending hours in rehearsal studios (in order to perfect arrangements and avoid running up studio bills) to create a very close approximation of what the finished demo tape would sound like. In many cases, it released them from commercial studios completely. And those who didn't have the studio budgets in the first place for demos were now freed of the notion that the best they could do was to set up a stereo cassette player at a gig and hope for the best.
Personal recording equipment has ignited several significant cultural trends in music since its appearance, from the return of the singer/songwriter (who no longer had to put up with a band) to the demise of the commercial jingle industry, which is now pretty much based in people's homes. Now the personal recording revolution is entering yet another evolutionary cycle. The proliferation of independent record labels — in part prompted by the accessibility of personal recording technology — is creating significant demand for low‑budget records. Independent record labels in the USA were, as a group, the seventh‑largest distribution entity four years ago, just behind the six major label groups. As of 1996, independents are number two, behind only the megalithic Time/Warner. This situation has created a double trend in the process: many recording artists have expanded their personal recording setups to the point where they can comfortably make commercial‑level records in their own studios. Others are finding that more and more traditional studios are available that can accommodate the medium‑level budgets that have characterised this new strata of recording. In the process, this so‑called 'middle class' type of facility gets a long‑needed boost after years of losing economic ground to home recording.
Making It At Home
Mark Robertson and his San Francisco‑based band, Cairo, are the paradigm of many contemporary independent recording bands: upon signing with Relativity/Sony‑distributed indie label Magna Carta, of New York, the band elected to put their record budget into recording equipment, in this instance a pair of Alesis ADATs and two Mackie 1604 mixers, as well as assorted outboard and Tannoy DMT12 monitors, all fitted into a renovated office space, configured as a control room, tracking room and two isolation booths. "The plan was that, regardless of what happened at the end of our four‑record deal with Magna Carta, when everything was said and done, we'd have a studio we could use for our future projects and other records we wanted to produce," explains Robertson. As it turned out, the band's first release sold a total of 26,000 units, 18,000 of which were sold in Asia, via a local distributor. But taking the cash advance and buying equipment is becoming more and more common. "The thing is, at the end, you have something to show for your efforts besides a CD that may or may not have sold," he says.
When personal recording technology entered the scene around 15 years ago, it seemed like manna from heaven...
They also have something to invest in; the band recently upgraded to a Mackie 8‑buss console with Ultramix automation. But in the process of converting a record advance into a studio, Robertson says the band went through a learning experience. "We engineered it ourselves, and we spent a lot of the four months it took to make the record trying to figure out the automation and other systems," he says. "There were moments when it took away from what we were trying to accomplish." The EQ on the original consoles was fairly rudimentary in retrospect, and keyboard player Robertson comments that the band used a Hammond C3 and a lot of analogue synths, instead of digital ones, in trying to warm up the record's sound, as well using as tricks like running the bass through a preamp to add some grit to it. "If you do it yourself, you have to be prepared to try a lot of things that may or may not work in order to make a competitive‑sounding record," he says. "You're up against records being made in studios for a lot more money, so you have to take the time that having your own studio gives you to counter‑balance that."
John Elefante, former lead singer with Kansas from 1982 to 1986, uses the home studio as both a refuge and a centre for his Contemporary Christian music productions, which include his own critically‑acclaimed Windows On Heaven on Word Records, and records for CC acts Guardian, Petra and St Elmo's Fire. That's when he's not working at Sound Kitchen, the two‑room, Neve VR‑equipped studio he and his brother Dino own and operate in the Nashville suburb of Brentwood. Dubbed The Snack Bar, it's a quintessential personal studio, with a Mackie 32‑channel console, four Tascam DA88 digital 8‑tracks, and an imposing rack of keyboards and sound modules, all fitted inside one‑and‑a‑half bays of a partially converted five‑car garage at his Brentwood home. Contemporary Christian records serve as an interesting template for what has happened in the US independent record market as a whole. Budgets in that genre have increased somewhat, but it's still not unusual to see records being made for $5000‑10,000 in total. Major‑label Christian records run between $20,000 and $80,000, with larger budgets reserved for the genre's few megastars, such as Michael W. Smith. But producers and artists such as Elefante grew up in lower‑budget environments and have learned lessons from them. For starters, the level of equipment needed for recording and for mixing is different, and independent record projects should be aware of that and, when possible, allocate part of the budget appropriately. "It's not the equipment that brings them to you," Elefante says, acknowledging the plebeian connotations of having signal processing such as an Alesis Midiverb and a Lexicon Alex as primary reverbs. "It's what you can do with it.
...artists producing low‑budget recordings, but who also want traditional studio environments, are helping to reinvigorate business at the lower end of the commercial studio scale.
"I have access to a couple of Neve VRs at Sound Kitchen, but quite frankly I think that 72 inputs is overkill during the interim stage of a recording," he observes. "I can track and mix at a larger studio, but I'm more comfortable here for tracking and overdubs." The inherent limitations of the personal studio are not a barrier to good‑sounding productions, however. "It doesn't cost any more to record live drums in the kitchen than it does to use a drum machine," he notes. His production of Guardian's record 'Swing, Swang, Swung' was recorded at The Snack Bar in just this way, although the drums were overdubbed after acoustic guitars and a scratch vocal were first recorded to a click track. The personal studio simply accommodates itself, effectively though somewhat inelegantly — cables were simply strung across the Mackie console to the kit.
Into The Studio
On the other hand, many artists feel they need the structured environment and access to more equipment and technical help that a studio offers. "I needed a real studio to do this record in," said Tony Sarno, a blues/rock recording artist whose first record, 'It's A Blues Thing', was recorded for Memphis‑based Icehouse Records on an initial budget of $5,000 (though it actually ended up costing closer to $10,000). "I could do the pre‑production demos at home, and that helped keep the time spent in the studio down. But I wanted to work with a live band and I wanted us to all record together. So I needed a regular studio, one that sounded good but that could work within the budget."
'It's A Blues Thing' was recorded at Crosstown Recorders, also in Memphis. Studio owner/engineer Rusty McFarland, who has been a partner for the last five years in the 20‑year‑old facility, which has a Neve 8232 console and Sony analogue 24‑track, said that artists producing low‑budget recordings, but who also want traditional studio environments, are helping to reinvigorate business at the lower end of the commercial studio scale. After becoming increasingly aware of the limitations of home recording, "People are coming back to studios," he observes, noting a trend that started about four years ago. "And they're realising that there's something to be said for being in that kind of environment, where you have a separate control room and well‑maintained gear. This is not a world‑class facility, cosmetically or technologically speaking. But people can get a better sound, a more professional finished product, in a dedicated recording studio than they often can in a home studio. If the players are competent and the artist and producer are good, it's not hard to make it sound like a bigger‑budget production."
McFarland, who engineers many of the records that come into Crosstown as part of the studio's hourly rate, says that budgets for blues, rock and alternative records coming into the studio are averaging between $5000 and $10,000. Tracking and overdubs tend to move quickly, and he's brought mixing down to less than a week for a 10‑track CD. He adds that records like these are especially profitable for studios with low operating overheads, who have their equipment, for the most part, paid off.
More Creative, More Fun, Better Sounding
Scot Merry, co‑owner of County Q Recording in Nashville, says that the amount of independent alternative rock records is increasing, supplementing his already profitable base of country music demo sessions. "Country sessions involve pickers, which tends to keep the budgets up," he explains, noting budgets of between $10,000 and $15,000, mostly for 'vanity' country records that aren't signed to a record label. "Alternative stuff is based around bands and thus the budgets are lower by 25 to 50 percent,
...try to make the studio owner part of the process and you'll find that budgets often have a way of being stretched in ways you might not have expected.
as opposed to solo artists. And they also tend to slave off their tracks to ADATs and do their own overdubs and then come back to mix." But, says Merry, the budget levels of independent records is forming a transitional bridge between the home studio and the smaller traditional commercial facility, one that he sees broadening as more bands seek spaces large enough for them to track entire bands in. "They're also finding that their records are more creative, more fun and better sounding when they're in an environment in which they don't have to be the engineer and studio designer, too," he adds.
Get To Know The Genre
In Sanford, Florida, Bob Greenlee, president of both independent blues label Kingsnake Records and its eponymously‑named studio, notes that the proliferation of independent labels has significantly increased the amount of non‑in‑house work that passes through his doors. "I wish the budgets were higher," he said. "But right now I can actually sell more records than I can make. I'll make $5000 records all day long." Kingsnake's studio has a Sony JH‑24 analogue multitrack, which Greenlee says indie acts find sonically preferable to the sound of digital recorders like ADAT and DA88. "The thing is, you have to convince some independent acts of that difference," he says. "I've been hearing more blues records that sound like they're made with a drum machine. That tells me that, even though more acts are coming [to small studios] to make low‑budget records, a lot of them are also staying at home to make records." Greenlee also observes that traditional small studios can increase their percentage of the low‑budget business out there by getting the hang of a genre. "Jazz and rock and roll work under the concept that progress is possible for their art form," he said. "In blues, in its post‑modern form, you're not looking for perfection. It's no accident that blues is 12 bars. It's simple, below‑the‑neck kind of thinking. So the model for a modern small studio would be like it was at Muscle Shoals [Alabama, a major R&B center in the 1950s and '60s] years ago: to get to know the genre it thinks it can do best and get a stable of musicians and give independent blues artists something they can work with." Which is also to say, for musicians looking to get the most bang for their limited number of bucks, seek out studios that have some level of affinity for the type of music being done. That kind of connection will expedite the project and allow more of the budget to go into creativity instead of breaking down musical language barriers."
At Baby Monster Studios in Manhattan, owner/producer Steve Burgh is also seeing more very‑low‑budget record work, which he says helps fill in the gaps between major‑label work. He's had to adjust his rates for these projects "to a certain degree," he acknowledges. "But I'd still like to see more of it. The [low‑budget] projects tend to run two to four days, and that can fill in schedule holes between larger bookings very nicely. I think most mid‑sized studios will accommodate this level of budget. The thing is to present the project to the studio in a way that's attractive. Studios benefit from having records made in them — any kind of records. So try to make the studio owner part of the process and you'll find that budgets often have a way of being stretched in ways you might not have expected."
...traditional small studios can increase their percentage of the low‑budget business out there by getting the hang of a genre.
Another tangential factor that Burgh identifies is that his low‑budget record rate generally includes a house engineer. "It would be great if this whole trend also caused the return of the concept of the staff engineer. That's something that I've always wanted to see happen anyway. In the case of these kinds of records, they want to get it done fast and make it sound good. So who knows the room and the equipment better than the engineer who works in the same studio every day?"
A&R Viewpoint
Mark Maynard, vice president of A&R at Icehouse Records, which is now distributed in the US by Priority Records, says that in choosing Crosstown or any of the other smaller studios he uses for the artists on his label, an accommodating rate and flexibility with scheduling is critical. "The way it works is, I walk in and say, here's the budget, here's what I have to come out with, what can you do it for?" In the case of Sarno's record, McFarland's engineering was included in the studio rate on an as‑available basis, which made the deal more financially attractive to Icehouse. On the other hand, he also acknowledges that in exchange for a favourable rate he needs to offer the studios volume. "If I walked in asking for that deal with one record, I know they might have a problem with that," he says. "But I'm willing to come in and say I've got four or five projects ready to go. That's what seals the deal."
Will small‑budget records become the saviours of the 'middle class' studio? Rusty McFarland believes that they could, as long as the studios doing them understand the nature of this clientele and adapt themselves accordingly. "The middle‑level studio has to carve out its own niche and specialise, and I think these kind of records are a way to do that. It still seems like there's more growth going into personal studios; they're still getting a lot of the indie record business. But people can hear the difference between a record made in a home and one made in a professional studio. If you can stay busy and hustle and keep your overhead low, you can make some money off this trend."
Case Study: Neil Zaza
Neil Zaza is rapidly becoming another Steve Vai, in that he's a guitarist who can build a career on instrumental records. His first two releases — one on his own label, the second on a small independent called BMA — sold a combined 20,000 units and were recorded in small local studios in Ohio and Texas. "At that point, I realised that all I had to show for those two records were the records," he says. "For the next record, I decided to invest the advance into recording equipment, so that I'd have the record and a studio to show for it." His new release, Sing, on High Chief Records and with much wider national distribution than the previous two releases, had a budget of about $12,000, with which he decided to go digital, purchasing a Fostex D80 hard disk recorder, three Alesis ADATs, various Mac programs such as Digidesign's Pro Tools, Mark Of The Unicorn's Digital Performer, Macromedia's Deck and Passport Designs' Alchemy. He also purchased a Mackie 24‑channel console.
But two records made on similar budgets in commercial studios taught Zaza a lesson even before he started. "I realised that I could use both environments to their best advantage," he explains. "I don't have a great tracking room at home, so I would use a studio with one for drums and guitars, then bring those tracks home for overdubs and editing." While the ADAT has become a fairly ubiquitous format, it's not quite everywhere yet, so Zaza relied heavily on his D80 hard disk system and its portability, which allowed him to bring the 8‑track system into various outside studios, cut tracks, then bring them home — backed up to a Fostex RD8 DAT machine — for further recording. "I would record to the D80, then offload from that to one of the sequencer programs, do things like combine solos, then dump it back to the D80 for additional recording," he says. "It was an incredibly flexible system. It helped also that it happens to sound excellent, as does the Mackie console."
The issues that cropped up around this approach were ones of creativity and control. "This was a record that used multiple recording and editing formats," Zaza notes. "So you have to be aware first of how you make your choices for each move. I based those decisions on which systems interfered least with creativity — which were easiest to use given the complexity of the work. That's really the crux of the matter: I'm an engineer, but I knew when I needed to use another engineer so I could concentrate on being an artist and performer. It's a matter of knowing your own limitations. And a matter of knowing when the technology is getting in the way. When I was writing for the record, I would go into the studio, turn on all the Mac stuff, and sometimes get completely distracted from writing because I was checking patches or worrying about a system crash. So I went out and bought a cheap micro‑cassette recorder, and that's all I used to finally write the stuff for the record. This approach extended to making the record: I tended to rely on systems that were the simplest to use, like the Mackie and the D80, which is basically a self‑contained recording and editing system. Those two systems were the unifying factors in the project."
Budget Home Record Checklist
1. Don't exceed your own capabilities — it may be on a budget but it needs to be good; don't hesitate to hire an engineer, especially for tracking and mixing, or other musicians, if you need them.
2. Don't buy, hire — don't deprive yourself of a good microphone or piece of outboard gear if you don't happen to own it. Check with hite companies, music/pro audio stores, or other home recordists. A great vocal mic can lift an entire project.
3. Consider using multiple studios. Your personal studio may be great, but another personal studio or a commercial one may have just the room for tracking or vocal overdubs. And a few hours outside the the usual walls works wonders for the ears and attitude.
4. Set a schedule. Personal studios take a lot of the clock‑watching pressures off, but that freedom can also lead to procrastination. Make up a recording schedule similar to one that you might have been on in a for‑hire studio. When you go over the time budget, you'll really enjoy that freedom.
5. Hire an engineer. You may have become pretty adept at recording, but it does distract from the creative process. At least consider hiring an assistant to do the punches.
7. Don't forget mastering — and, preferably, don't think you can do it yourself with a DAT machine and stereo compressor. There are many small mastering houses that are affordable. And if it's truly not in the budget, bring in an experienced engineer to help master.
8. Have a good time!
Budget Studio Record Checklist
1. Look for affinity: choose a studio that is familiar with the kind of music you're doing, be it techno, blues, or whatever. It'll make the entire project move faster and easier.
2. Don't be afraid to negotiate: while it's an unpleasant fact of life for them, smaller commercial studios are under tremendous pressure from home studios. As a result, you can almost always do better than card rate, and usually a whole lot better.
3. On the other hand, don't be a pig — smaller studios need to stay afloat, so be sympathetic to their circumstances when negotiating and remember that they need to make a profit, too. In the long run, fewer studios means fewer choices and higher rates.
4. Book on a day basis, not hourly — day rates are inevitably more cost‑effective. Keep in mind, though, that a day is not the same length at all studios: at some it means 12 hours; at others, perhaps 15.
5. Look into a staff engineer. Many studios have staff assistants, many of whom are quite good and all of whom are quite eager to be first engineers. Their fee can be rolled into the studio charges. Ask them for examples of their work and spend some time with them. You may find a diamond in the rough and save yourself some money.
6. Don't buy your own tape — this is like going into a restaurant and asking them to cook your eggs. Let the studio have its tape markup; it's one of the few profit centres left to them. And don't ever use used tape!
7. No entourages. Friends and hangers‑on might be fun, but they distract from the project, and when you're on a tight budget, time is definitely money.
8. Integrate personal recording equipment, anything from using a four‑track to sketch out arrangements to bringing home rough stereo mixes to do your own overdubs.
9. Do your arguing off the meter. Creative differences are inevitable, but if you can, try to defer them until after the session. Why argue at 40 quid an hour when you can do that later over a pint?