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Tony… waving the flag for good songs
Tony Harris or ‘Nod’ to his friends is a rare phenomenon; a studio engineer with over 25 years experience who is happy to be just that without hankering to make the move to become a producer. In a way, he’s a typical ‘old school’ engineer in his no bullshit approach, but he’s kept abreast of new developments in technology and is equally comfortable recording on a laptop as he is in a 48-track studio.
SISSY: What would you describe yourself as?
TONY: Primarily I’m a recording engineer but at the moment I’m working at the British Library national sound archive, digitising. I’m transferring tapes of sociological interviews to digital format, backing everything up into a massive hard drive to be preserved for the masses. I have to do 1200 of those during a six-month contract so it’s like a six-month freelance gig
SISSY: Can you tell us a bit about what else you’ve done as a recording engineer?
TONY: I’ve been an engineer since 1979; I’ve worked on recordings by the Sisters of Mercy, 10,000 Maniacs, Sinead O’Connor, Bad Company, Rolf Harris, the Coronation Street Album… loads of things. The Coronation Street Album was a celebration of 35 years of the show with lots of the actors doing a track each. It was amazingly good fun because we worked at Abbey Road studios for three months; it was one of the best gigs I’ve done because now everyone wants to do an album really quickly and cheaply instead of taking their time.
SISSY: Tell us about how you got started; were you originally a musician?
TONY: No, I got into music comparatively late when I was about 12 or 13. But at the same time, I was a bit of a swot at school and I liked biology, chemistry, maths and physics. I was buying more and more records and getting more into science. Then I saw this magazine, which had an article on how a recording studio works. I picked it up and it had pictures of mixing desks and things, and I thought it was interesting because it seemed to be halfway between science and music… it was to do with music but also it was to do with being logical, organised and scientific.
SISSY: I heard that as a teenager you had pictures of mixing desks on your bedroom wall instead of the usual scantily clad females. Is this true?
TONY: Absolutely! When I was 15, all I wanted to do was to work in a studio.
SISSY: How did you get your first job?
TONY: I wrote to every studio in the world a hundred times! When I left school I was temping at Debenhams for about a year because I couldn’t get work at a studio. When I was 18 or 19 I got my first job at a studio down in Worthing. I couldn’t get a job in London because I lived in Guildford, so when I had an interview with a London studio, the people who lived closer would get the job, It was that catch 22 situation of I couldn’t get a place to live in London unless I had a job and vice-versa. I worked at the studio in Worthing for about a year, then left because the guy who ran it was a bit of a nightmare. I was doing the jobs of engineer, tape-op, tea boy and cleaner for hardly any money and no one else was working there for me to learn things from. Then I moved to London and did temp work cleaning pots and pans and packing shirts while looking for another job in a studio. I had a flat in Victoria and each day after work, I would cycle in a different direction, knocking on studio doors.
I eventually got some freelance work for Odyssey studios in Marble Arch… I think Jazz FM are in that building now. They asked me if I was available for a session… they told me the producer was called Connie Plank, the band was Ultravox, then they gave me the keys. So I had the keys to a studio I had never worked at before and I was supposed to be in charge for the weekend while Ultravox were in… it’s amazing because I could have been anyone and stolen everything! The session was to remix a single called ‘the Voice’. It was funny because I didn’t know where anything was in the studio and I had to search for the kitchen and the air conditioning etc. Anyway, I survived the experience and did a few bits of work for Odyssey over the next months. It was a really cool place to be because while I was there, they had Thin Lizzy in one studio, Black Sabbath in another and the Who came in at one point. A few months later I got a job at Livingstone Studios in Wood Green, which is still going today and has lots of big bands in.
I was originally taken on as a tape-op/bottle washer/tea maker and I helped build studio two. Myself and the other tape-op helped the owner, Nick Kinsey to build it although we had no building experience! I ended up working at Livingstone for the next ten years, from 1981-91.
SISSY: Tell us about how the 1980’s were compared to now.
TONY: It was the beginning of the end in some ways for music, because it was the start of technology taking over from ‘real’ music. I didn’t mind using SSL for automated mixing but it was when sequencers and samplers and Fairlights came in and everyone was spending £15000 on an Emulator One or a Synclavier that things went downhill. Everyone was obsessed with making records that were the most in tune and in time possible, but not succeeding. There’s a lot of records from the 80’s that are unlistenable because everything has a stupid big sample of a snare drum and it’s all a bit out of tune with loads of chorus and things on it. I hated it; it was pseudo science with people trying to look like they were clever and that they knew what they were doing. Don’t get me wrong, I love technology if it’s doing something useful but it’s annoying when you’ve been in the studio for 2 days and you can’t get the code on the tape in order to organise a click track so the band have all committed suicide or split up and left because they’re bored out of their minds!I think things did recover quite soon though, because good sense prevailed in the end. There are lots of records from around 1983-85 that sound totally appalling. 1960’s and 70’s records sound great and then once things like Nirvana and grunge came along at the end of the 80’s, everything sounded fine again and has ever since, but there was this horrendous chunk in between! A few people got it right, like Trevor Horn who was really good, but everyone else was trying to copy him and failed. Also, it was a time of complete stupidity where you had every man jack from America who’s ever made tea for Prince or Madonna, coming to this country to be an American producer and getting £500,000 budgets when they’d never actually done anything. They were imported by A&R dimwits who had no idea, who were impressed by a credit as a tea boy on a Prince record or something. Budgets for albums were ridiculous by today’s standards; obviously you can’t really compare because technology has moved on in terms of you can afford to have a studio at home. But then, the studio would be costing the artist around £1200 per day, my fee was £250 per day and although I tried to avoid the really long sessions, I did a Runrig album for 10 weeks, so you can see how that cost a lot. Some people would spend a year making an album at Livingstone, hiring every session musician you can imagine, and hiring loads of extra stuff in. that was also the fashion in the 80’s; to hire in racks of valve EQ’s and effects. There was always ‘this week’s thing’ that you had to have and all that was costing as much as the studio itself.That sort of scenario can still happen today though; I did some recording 18 months ago with this 18 year old Irish guy called George Murphy who’s got a fantastic voice… he sounds like Shane McGowan’s dad! He had a number one single in Ireland so you’d think they’d try and bang an album out quickly to capitalise on that success, but 18 months later it’s still not finished. It’s probably costing 100’s of thousands of pounds. The first album was all covers and was done really quickly but now he’s writing his own stuff; I know you can argue that it’s the artist’s right to express themselves creatively but… do it in stages and start with a couple of original tracks rather than spending all that time in an expensive studio learning to write!
SISSY: Do you think that developments in technology have benefited music or harmed it?
TONY: I think it’s entirely neutral in effect. It’s a tool; intelligent rational people using it make good records and morons or coke addled fools don’t! There’s lots of records now that use a lot of tech and sound great and have been done in a way that you couldn’t make records before, for example the Eels and the Flaming Lips who are farting around with technology in a kind of 60’s approach to making music whilst still being high-tech.
SISSY: Do you think the effect on the industry in general is neutral as well?
TONY: Yes… I mean what’s better? Having 10,000 records out there, which cost £1000 each to make, or one record that cost a million. People can only listen to a finite number of records in their life so you could say it’s good to have choice, but then there are a lot of not very good records out there. It is better if people have learnt their craft; the brain behind doing stuff is more important than the stuff.
The internet has made it easier for people to put stuff out there, but it hasn’t increased the quality of what’s on offer. Look at myspace; it has something like 40,000,000 people on it and everyone’s got a track on myspace. It’s inevitable, and the same applies to TV, radio, art writing; computers have made it possible for everyone to make their stuff accessible. Sometimes I think it would be great if everything got erased and we had to start again! But you can’t now; you can’t imagine a world where you can’t hear Sergeant Pepper or see the Mona Lisa because there’s millions of copies of these all over the world and more and more are being generated all the time… you’ll never get rid of them, we’re stuck with them for all time. We’re drowning in it really, and to make an impact gets more and more difficult.
SISSY: What are your main influences?
TONY: I’d wave the flag for a good song that sounds crap rather than a crap song that sounds great! I was totally influenced by punk, being 17 in 1977. Punk was all about getting out there and doing whatever you wanted to do; that Eddie and the Hot Rods record was actually pivotal. Favourite albums would be Never Mind the Bollocks, London Calling, Ziggy Stardust, and Physical Graffiti but not necessarily for sonic reasons. Sonically, I really do like the Flaming Lips, the new Arcade Fire album, and anything the White Stripes do; I think Jack White is an absolute genius and everything I’ve heard by him is madly good. He takes some wild risks but it works. My favourite yardstick record of all time is that Jellyfish album, Bellybutton, which is an extraordinary record.
As an engineer, I was influenced by Roy Thomas Baker and all those early Queen records; I loved him. You got the impression he really had to work hard to get all those things on a track and that he had to make final decisions as he went. They had to get things right so they could bounce them down free up tracks for more layers. Not like now where you can get hundreds of tracks on Pro-tools and they’re all full of rubbish that won’t get used in the mix.
SISSY: Can you give any tips on recording?
TONY: This is where I sound really Victorian… write some good songs, learn how to play your instruments, put some new strings on your guitars and heads on your drums and make sure you can play your songs and make a sound you like yourselves. Put a microphone in a rehearsal room and if it sounds good, you’re halfway there.
When it comes to recording drums, I’m glad that the world seems to have gone back to reality with drum sounds. My favourite sounds have always been the Led Zeppelin albums and I’m a massive Glynn Johns fan; all the records he did sound great. The drums sound like you are there in the room and the sound doesn’t date. He recorded the Stones, the Who, Led Zeppelin, the first Eagles album, all the greats. Glynn johns would be one of my absolute heroes in lots of ways.
With guitar and bass sounds, you can make more difference to the sound by moving where you hit the strings with the pick by a centimetre, then by moving the mic to a different part of a speaker cone. New strings will always make a better sound. With mics, I’m a Senheiser 421 man all the way… I love them. I use them for lots of things including guitars. Vocal sounds are very hit and miss; I generally try and use an expensive top quality mic, as long as it sounds good.
SISSY: With all the people you’ve worked with, can you say what quality makes someone good?
TONY: I don’t really believe in star quality, I think as long as the song is good, that’s what counts. But having said that, I once worked with Joe Strummer and he really did have it. He knew what he was doing and what he was going for. I’d like to get a t-shirt made that says ‘a bad decision is better than no decision’ because no-one makes decisions… they do a hundred takes of something for no reason because they can’t decide what they really want.
SISSY: Do you have any favourite guitars etc when it comes to recording?
TONY: Not really, people can turn up with the most unlikely looking instruments and then when they play, it sounds fantastic. Someone else will turn up with brand new top-of-the-range gear and sound awful. I’ve never noticed a correlation. Simple is usually better though; I prefer passive basses to active ones. One of the most important things, I think, is to use API mic pre-amps. The mic is the most important thing, and the mic amps come a close second. I record everything through them because when I push the fader up, the sound is the same as it was in the room with the instrument. I also have a theory that any equipment from America with an ‘X’ in it is always good!… MXR, Ampex, Lexicon, Teletronix, Electroharmonix, DBX… they’re all good.
SISSY: What are you currently doing and what will you be doing in the future?
TONY: Because of what I previously ranted about; that everyone has a home studio now, I decided that if you can’t beat them, join them. So I’ve got a pile of gear together which hasn’t cost much. I’ve got Pro-tools, a hard disk recorder, a little desk, mic pre-amps and loads of good mics that I’ve accumulated over the years and I’m taking bookings as a mobile studio. Going back to what I was saying about how old records were made, I’ve always loved the idea of using a mobile studio. Rooms that aren’t in studios can sound better sometimes. Radiohead have been doing that lately and Led Zeppelin recorded in big old houses. It makes sense and I like the idea of it being an unrepeatable event; you can get a good vibe going, have fun, take loads of photos and enjoy the process.
I charge between £200 and £250 per day depending on the location. If someone has a nice room there’s no reason why you shouldn’t make a great record that way. Then I can do mixing at home on Pro-tools. I recently did an album with the Bikini Beach Band in Stoke Newington in a Hawaiian furniture maker’s shop. They are an instrumental surf band and we recorded it in 2 days, then mixed for 4 days. They contacted me through a guy called Mike Gibson from the Godfathers; we also did his solo album at my house. I can do projects involving one or two people at home; there just isn’t room there to do a whole band. You can contact me at tony@nodharris.com and my website is www.nodharris.com my mobile is called New River Studios, or go to myspace.com/newriverrecordings

Fayney... mutate and survive!
Fayney’s best known for instigating 80’s R&B/Rock legend Roachford and working with the Clash but he’s a versatile professional who’s equally happy producing, engineering, writing or doing live sound. His many years in the business are testament to his willingness to adapt and embrace new technologies, attitudes and methods.
SISSY: How would you describe what you do?
FAYNEY: What I do now has expanded from what I thought I’d be doing. Because the necessity in the music business now, is to do more of everything yourself. Like a lot of other people, I’ve been sort of corralled into being hands-on in a lot more areas than just the music, like the business side of things. In the past you might just work on the music and that would be the last you’d see of it until it was on TV; someone else had done the video etc. But now there’s more of a tie in between the different mediums; the audio and video elements have sort of merged along with the business aspect so now I can be called on to do all of it. I think maybe you should ask whether the music side of things is suffering because people have to do so much. The onus has definitely changed now.
I came from a background of people in rooms playing music together and if you wanted to record a track, you had to go into a studio. So it forced more social interaction. Computer technology has given convenience and ease of use but what it’s also done is to actually kill a lot of social interaction.
It’s that image of young kids sat in a room playing video games by themselves, no friends around and totally immersed in it in solitude. Humans are supposed to interact and learn from each other but unfortunately, that same scenario is happening with music.
SISSY: So making music has become much more technical, rather than being based on the vibe… the sounds have to be perfect instead of it being about keeping the take with the best vibe, which might be technically flawed.
FAYNEY: Exactly.
SISSY: How did you get involved in music?
FAYNEY: I always knew from the age of 8 or 9 that I was going to do something with music. I don’t know if it’s like that for everyone; I think sometimes people realise later in life, but from the age of 10, I was already fixing radios and had a working knowledge of electronics. I lived out in the country where there was no access to music, but my family moved to London when I was about 11, which was fortunate, otherwise I might have gone mad from the lack of stimulus.
SISSY: Did you play any instruments?
FAYNEY: Not at the time. My Dad played piano and my Mum played a bit… there was always music in the family. My dad was religious in one sense; he would drag me into the living room; we were a typical West Indian family in that no-one ever went in there except for weddings and funerals, everything was covered in plastic! My dad would take me in there and bombard me with Ray Charles and stuff. I hated it because as a really young kid, I didn’t really understand where that music was coming from. So it wasn’t until later, around 15 or 16 I kind of woke up one day and thought, ‘ah, now I get it’.
SISSY: When did you start working with music?
FAYNEY: I went to university to study electronics and when I was there I met up with a group of guys and formed a college band. I started playing bass at a couple of gigs, but then my interest started to drift. I wasn’t so interested in standing up on a stage in front of people. I actually thought my ego would love it but when I actually got up there and performed, I realised it wasn’t really my thing; it didn’t do it for me.
I wanted to get into the engineering side of things, so I started to look around for jobs in that area.
To start with, I got a job in a hi-fi shop because I couldn’t get a job in a studio; it was the nearest thing I could find. But it just goes to show you that in life, fortune has a big part to play because my sister got talking to a woman who lived on our estate who’s husband was Eddie Grant’s recording engineer. She had mentioned to this woman that I was dying to get into the music business and I couldn’t get a job; I’d sent off loads of applications and hadn’t got any replies.
One day, this woman’s husband knocked on the door. His name was Frank, and he said he could provide me with some training, although he couldn’t offer me any money. I was blown away! So I went to the Coach House studios and I basically sat behind him on studio sessions and just watched what he was doing. Then gradually, they let me take the reins on a few things, like recording the drums or something, and I learnt very gradually. My earliest recollection of recording anything is when Eddy Grant’s old band, the Equals, had come in to record some stuff and I got involved in recording some of that.
SISSY: Was it an easy road from then on?
FAYNEY: No, I ended up being out of work for about a year. When you’re out of work there’s 2 choices; you can either sit around or you can be pro-active, and I’ve always been the latter… god loves a trier! So I just kept knocking on doors and one day this guy who funnily enough was Eddy Grant’s cousin, found me. I’d been asking around for work and told me about a job going at a studio where they needed a young engineer to work for a famous band. He asked if I’d like to come down for an interview at 9am in the morning… well I wasn’t stupid, I was there bright and early!
It was very odd; I walked into this place, which was a well-equipped studio. It was only 8-track but everything was brand new and pristine like nobody had ever used it. There was this short guy in there who was obviously the governor. He introduced himself as Bernie Rhodes, shook my hand and ushered me into the studio, where there was a guy playing guitar, who got up and walked out; I remember thinking later that I should have recognised him. Bernie immediately turned to me… he was a very acidic character but I don’t think he meant it in a bad way, I just think he was always trying to test your mettle because he knew that if you want to survive in this business, you’re going to have to be a bit tough. So he said ‘who are you then, who is this Fayney character?’ I explained that I’d been looking for work in a studio and that I’d had a bit of experience. He asked me how many hits I’d worked on and I had to say there hadn’t been any so far. Then he gave me a tape by a band called the Black Arabs and told me to put it on and do a mix of it for him. By this time, I was shaking, but I put the tape on and managed to get it all working while Bernie went out for a coffee. I did a mix and gave him a cassette of it, then went home, not expecting to hear anything.
Anyway, the next morning the phone rang at 8.30am and when I answered it was Bernie. He said ‘Look, I don’t know how you do things, but where we come from, we start work at 9 o’clock, so you better get your ass down here!’ So I scrambled to get myself together, and went to the studio not really knowing what was going on… I was definitely intrigued to say the least. When I arrived Bernie introduced me to these 4 guys who were there; they were called the Clash and he was their manager.
I was already into the Clash because an old school buddy of mine whose uncle was King Tubby, the legendary Jamaican producer, had he’d told me the Clash had some wicked tunes and that I should check them out. We played London Calling to death at one point. At the time I was mostly listening to reggae and rare groove or soul but when I heard the Clash, it really stood out! I remember 2 months later, I was walking down the road and at the local town hall, there was a punk band playing. I’d never seen a punk before and there were loads of them hanging around. I remember I didn’t feel threatened or anything, but the whole thing was so strange, it was like humanity had changed overnight and no one had warned me!
SISSY: Did you record the Clash?
FAYNEY: I basically ran their studios for them, and the main part I played was when they split up, we had to find replacements for their last album. I did lots of live sound for them as well, which was f****n brilliant; I was only 18 at the time.
SISSY: Would you say the Clash were responsible for expanding your musical taste to include rockier stuff?
FAYNEY: That’s not really true, but what they did get me into was politics. I wouldn’t describe the Clash as being the greatest musicians on earth but their vibe, spirit and political stance were what got to me; I’d never experienced that before. So they opened up a whole new world for me, literally overnight.
SISSY: What happened next?
FAYNEY: The Clash did a lot of stuff overseas and I didn’t go with them to the States, so while I was working at their studio I started doing other things with people involved in the scene. I did the pre-production for Malcom McLaren’s Madame Butterfly album and I worked with Bow Wow Wow, Adam Ant and the Specials.
I mostly did engineering work and contributed ideas here and there.
Things were different in those days; we’d be drinking in a bar somewhere and meet a guitarist or something, then rope them into coming to the studio to record the next day. That’s what I call punk; I don’t think of it as just the music, it’s an attitude and a way of doing things, a lifestyle.
Around that time, I also started doing some of my own music. I wasn’t really a player except for a bit of bass which isn’t much good for writing by yourself. So I persuaded Bernie to get me some equipment; drum machines and synths and stuff. I started working on some ideas and I was looking around for musicians to work with. A friend of mine recommended a guy called Andrew Roachford, so I got him in to play a keyboard part on a track I had. To be honest, he was terrible and I couldn’t wait to see the back of him! About a year later, I got invited to a concert at my friend’s college. I ended up back stage, chatting to people and not really paying attention to the bands when suddenly I heard this guy singing and it grabbed my attention; it was like a bell ringing in my head or something. I went to look and it was that same guy, Andrew Roachford! It turned out that when he’d come to my studio, he’d never played a synthesiser before, only the electric piano, which was why he’d sounded so bad. So I got him to come to the studio again, and we wrote a whole track in one day from start to finish. We didn’t really know what we were doing, it was a vibe thing… we seemed to be able to communicate without even talking and we knew we were onto something. We then started working towards the Roachford that eventually got known.
SISSY: What was your role in Roachford?
FAYNEY: Predominantly, I did arrangement and co-production, as well as suggesting ideas for videos and things.
SISSY: It always seemed that Roachford were very respected by other musicians as well as fans…
FAYNEY: Yes, I remember one time when we did a little gig somewhere and this guy came who ran Michael Jackson’s publishing empire. It turned out Michael wanted to buy our publishing because he was a big fan. Another time, Greg Phillinganes, the musical director of Michael Jackson’s Bad tour came down to some of our rehearsals, and he told us that Michael had come onto their tour bus once on the tour just to give everyone a copy of the Roachford album, and told us all to study it!
SISSY: Why do you think Roachford didn’t maintain their successful position?
FAYNEY: It was a set of circumstances that could have happened to anybody; I think the thing to remember when you’re in the music game is it’s a game of Russian Roulette. And just as you may be prepared to get all the adulation, people throwing their knickers at you and the stuff you get off on, you’ve also got to be prepared for the downfall. It’s no good if you have a fragile ego; if you have an ego you’ve got to leave it on the stage.
With Roachford, we’d been quite successful in the UK and we went to America and had a hit single and album there. But there was a timing issue because while we were messing around doing radio promos in America, we should have been back in the UK recording the next album and keeping the profile up. I remember we did a gig in Germany supporting Steve Miller and he offered us a bit of good advice… whenever you hand over an album to your record company, make sure you have the next one already prepared. It’s hard to do but it’s a must; if the first one takes off you need to back it up quickly.
SISSY: That’s like something I’ve been told before; when you record your first album, you’ve had your whole life to write and perfect it, but you have to make your second one in a few months. That’s why lots of bands flop on their second album.
FAYNEY: Exactly.
SISSY: There was also a bit of an R&B/rock crossover movement going on then… I remember bands like the Brand New Heavies and Living Colour being popular at that time.
FAYNEY: We met Corey Glover, the singer of Living Colour at a backstage party somewhere. His girlfriend said she was a big Roachford fan and he seemed to have a bit of an alpha-male knee jerk reaction; he started slagging us off and saying we shouldn’t do schmaltzy love songs although ironically, their biggest hit was a ballad type watered-down version of their other stuff!
SISSY: What happened after Roachford?
FAYNEY: We kind of drifted apart and started doing our own things. For a while, I started doing some work for Elton John’s manager; live gigs for Elton and Courtney Pine. Elton John was a big fan of Andrew Roachford. I did some big gigs with him in Paris and it was crazy… every night I would be taken from the hotel in a stretch limo to the backstage door, then had to wait until the production girls had spread rose petals on the floor. I had my own room with 5 bottles of the finest chilled champagne and a Michelin chef doing the catering; no menu, he just cooked whatever you ordered!
I got a publishing deal with Trinifold, the company that manage the Who and the remaining members of Led Zeppelin. I also became a DJ at Madame Jo-Jo’s in Soho for a while, playing rare groove. Then I met my production partner, Jamie Maher and we set up our own studio, called Big Fucking Digital, originally with a guy called Martin Eden as well.
SISSY: You seem to do different jobs for people; can you tell us a bit about that?
FAYNEY: We’ve done bits of film music, including lots of post production for ‘I’ll Be There’ starring Charlotte Church. The good thing about being established is that people know what you’re about so they know they can trust you to do a job when they need something doing. The funny thing is, because the music business has taken such a strange turn, a lot of high-end producers who were doing really good business a couple of years ago, are having to sell of bits of equipment now. It’s got that bad for a lot of people. The reason Jamie and I are hanging in there is because we’re more versatile, and a small, flexible company. Lately we’ve done a few tracks for New Order’s last album and we did a wicked remix with Arthur Baker for Ash, called Submission.
Jamie and I like all kinds of music and we try and put that feel into everything we do, so it’s easy for us to switch hats and do a dance track or rock or anything. We actually ended up working on the Ukranian eurovision entry in 2004, which won! Our management company were approached by these people looking for a production and co-writing team to work on a couple of tracks. So we agreed a fee and they came into the studio to play us the ideas, and told us they wanted to put the track in the eurovision song contest. They weren’t concerned about winning, they just wanted to get some exposure for this girl Roslana’s album. We re-wrote it with them because the original was some gibberish about the local goat’s cheese and their favourite meat! Then it accidently won, which was slightly embarrassing but funny at the same time!
SISSY: What software are you into using?
FAYNEY: Jamie and I use Pro-Tools, but we’ve been waiting for Apple to bring out their own hardware in conjunction with a company called Apergy, which is set to rival Pro-Tools and will be a lot cheaper. It works through the system in Apple called Core Audio; it will make it even easier to get good results on a home system. The interface will give you much more power and creative potential. But at the end of the day, I’m an analogue engineer. The last analogue album I did was in New York; we recorded onto tape in this lovely wood room. When I got back to England, I did transfer it to digital but I used a system called Radar because it’s the only digital system that sounds like tape… it doesn’t steal your soul!
SISSY: That’s what people used to say about the first digital mixing system called SSL, which everyone used in the 80’s… it’s almost as though that was the sound of the 80’s.
FAYNEY: Totally; the first Roachford album mixes were done on SSL and I was horrified. It sounded so harsh and aggressive, like that clinical Art of Noise/Frankie Goes to Hollywood sound. I think software like Logic and Pro-Tools do the same thing to a lesser extent, but I couldn’t tell the difference between Radar and tape. I think you can have the best of both worlds, like using an old console that’s driven digitally. But you have to pay attention to what you’re using; if you want a really warm sound, you won’t get it without using valves… a plug-in just won’t do the job that a valve amp would. But there are pros and cons to the way things are going; it’s good you can get a laptop and do things through the internet, but go out to gigs as well and converse with people. Try and find musicians you can get a vibe with and then try and capture that on your recordings. You have to try and give more with the vibe now, because the machines give you less.
SISSY: What are your plans for the future?
FAYNEY: I’ve got a prediction for you for the future… because of the way that reality TV is going, picture this; one day you’ll turn on your TV and on the screen you’ll see yourself, sitting there watching the TV. And then they’ll find a way to make you pay for it! But seriously, now we’re trying to set up an internet label; people are starting to realise that there are viable ways of making money from music through the internet instead of the typical label approach. We’re working with a couple of bands at the moment called the London Beach and The Dirty Feel, with a view to releasing their stuff on the internet. Bands can put a tune on lots of different internet sites instead of being tied to one label like they were in the past. And those record deals were on really shit terms. So I would say to any young musician now, forget the major labels. If you have an album recorded and ready to go, do it yourself through the internet.
SISSY: So instead of trying to get an A&R man into you, you’re better off trying to find your own computer geek to be like an extra band member!
FAYNEY: Yes, you need to find people who can help build you a website. Try finding someone who’s at Art College or something, who wants some real world experience. What we’re trying to do is different from the traditional record company approach; we want to create a level playing field and facilitate the need for growth; encourage enterprise. If there’s too much financial pressure on a band when they record, they’ll blow it and not get another chance, which is what happens on major labels. We want to put out music on a song-by-song basis where the band isn’t signing their life away. If you don’t put some mud down, the plants won’t grow; the record companies aren’t allowing things to develop any more, they just want singles. The whole record company thing is dead… they just don’t know it yet! For the first time, people can now control their digital identity. In the same way that you don’t need to go to the bank, you also no longer need a record company because you can do it all online. The record companies could save themselves but they’re not willing to give up their greed! Ultimately, music will probably be free but that will generate income from other parts of your identity; merchandising, tickets for gigs, access to tour diaries on line etc.
SISSY: You have your own album under the name ‘the Rainmaker’. Can you tell us about that?
FAYNEY: I’ve basically spent 5 years making this album, not because it’s immaculately played or recorded; in fact I’ve tried to make it as lo-fi as possible… I recorded everything at 16-bit. I took a long time making it because it’s a heartfelt album; it’s not instantaneous, it’s a grower! I’m about to release the album online; it’ll be available on 35 different music websites, details of which will be at myspace.com/therainmakeruk.
Since doing this interview with Fayney, he and his partner Jamie Maher have been producing an album with young Icelandic singer Vedis Hervor Amadottir. They’re flying out to Iceland in a couple of weeks to finish recording.
