Mike’s Blog

Share and share alike

Fri, 12 Mar 2010 15:50:22 +0000

In my continued quest to catch up with everyone else on this internet malarky, I’ve finally done something with my SoundCloud account (here). I’ve put 5 songs up, nothing you couldn’t already listen to on MySpace if you knew where to go, but you get a lovely waveform and you can comment on songs easier, as well as add notes to specific points in the waveform. The other advantage is I can host tracks on SoundCloud and post them here something like this;

Credit Crunch

Sat, 6 Mar 2010 16:51:14 +0000

As a teenager in the 90s I used to enjoy flicking through the CD booklet as I listened to the album. I’d make a point of reading all the lyrics if they were provided, I’d pay close attention to who had written all of the songs, who had played on each song and who recorded it and where it was recorded. I even liked reading through the thank-you’s and trying to see if I recognised any names, or instrument manufacturers from the lists.
Many people might think this information is useless, but I devoured it. I loved spotting guest appearances, or discovering that one of my favourite songs was a cover, and I’d make an effort to hear the original. So when Kula Shaker released a cover of “Hush”, I was that saddo at school pointing out to everyone that it wasn’t a Deep Purple cover, but had been written and recorded originally by Joe South - and I knew that South had performed on Blonde On Blonde (yes, I was always a geek). When Ocean Colour Scene released “Moseley Shoals” I loved knowing that it was a nod to the Muscle Shoals recording studio. I got a little thrill seeing the name Ben Hillier (no relation, but I still felt proud) as assistant engineer (on an early Blur CD I think), and again when I started seeing his name as engineer (Graham Coxon’s Golden D) and then producer (Think Tank). I absorbed this stuff so much that when I first heard Kaiser Chief’s on the radio while in the Music Tech office my first comment was that it sounded like Blur and was probably recorded by Stephen Street - something that for a short while sparked producer interviews in Music Tech, including one with Stephen Street about his recordings with Kaiser Chiefs.
Now as a recording engineer myself I am proud of every credit I receive, just as I am with every byline I get in Music Tech Magazine. I want people to know who I’ve worked with, even if it is frequently only as Assistant Engineer. And I still want to know who worked on the albums that I buy, and what albums the engineers and producers I work with have worked on before. The iTunes revolution however has pretty much killed this off, yet it would be incredibly easy for distributors to add credits as metadata to the files. I’ve moaned about this to friends for ages, arguing for some kind of definitive online database with credits and it now seems I’m not alone. The UK Music Producers Guild recently blogged about the lack of credits in digital deliveries (here), which provoked a considerable response and will hopefully provide a rallying point for musicians, engineers, producers, song-writers, studio owners, and even the person whose cover art it is. We need to convince the big digital distributors to start including this as metadata on downloads.

Mike Hillier

Tie a yellow ribbon

Wed, 3 Mar 2010 14:30:18 +0000

My plan had been to write this blog a few days ago to coincide with the release of a remix that I did for Catherine A.D. with my good friend Phil Joannides (aka Future Motions). Unfortunately, the release has been postponed, so for now you’ll just have to wet your appetite by heading over to Catherine’s website (here) and taking a listen to the original mixes there, she’s also got an interesting blog (here), and I’m sure she’ll be making some noise on there when the remix comes out. The remix is in aid of Amnesty International, who are one of two charities I’ve been working with recently.
The other charity I’ve been working with recently is the Disasters Emergency Committee, who with producer Noel Vine have put together an all-star cast of pop-classical musicians, including the likes of Julian Lloyd Weber, Natasha Marsh, The Priests and Bond to record a version of David Foster’s The Prayer. The recording for the single was done at a variety of studios including AIR and Metropolis, where I - along with Liam Nolan - assisted Noel and engineer George Shilling (an old friend of mine from Music tech Magazine). All proceeds from the single will go to the DEC’s Haiti fund. There was an insane number of artists through Metropolis in only a single day, with many artists laying down there parts in as little as 15 minutes before we swept in and changed the mics over. We had mics everywhere and the whole thing was being filmed, which meant mics had to be cleared away between takes for filming, but hopefully the end result will be worth it. Look out for it on Mothering Sunday (March 12th).
And finally... what’s all this got to do with ribbons? And in particular the SE & Rupert Neve RNR1? Nothing. I just wanted to put a picture of it up since I have recently bought one. I’ve actually had it for about a year, since I reviewed it for Music Tech. When Sonic Distribution asked for it back though, I kicked and screamed like a baby, until they let me keep it. So some negotiations later and it’s mine. This is now the single most expensive part of my signal chain, so I suppose I’d better be on the look-out for a good mic pre to go with it. Any suggestions?

I Got Them Ol’ Toareg Blues Again, Mama

Sat, 6 Feb 2010 15:02:06 +0000

Day One - here
Day Two - here

Day Three - 9 January, 2010
Most of the rest of the guys I was hanging around with headed back to Timbuktu on the morning of the third day, to visit some of the sites, and in some cases simply take a shower and visit a toilet that wasn’t simply a hole dug into the sand. Like a hardened traveller/festival-goer though, I remained behind and spent most of the morning chilling.
When they returned Jeff took out his didgeridoo and we had a jam in the campsite, with Musa on melodica, and various percussion instruments being passed around. Like a good sound engineer I had packed a small portable recorder - a Yamaha Pocketrak 2G for those geeks who care, and quickly ran off to grab it, laying it in the sand to capture as much of the jams as I could. The results of which can be heard here, and here.
The rest of the afternoon was spent chatting music with Henry, who made me write down the names Amanaz and Chrissy Zebby Tembo - specifically recommending the album “My Ancestors”, both of which I’ve dutifully downloaded since getting back. When we eventually heard noises emanating from the stage area we headed over to catch Amadou & Mariam, and Habib Koite sound-checking. More beer and considerable amounts of whisky and gin drank from sachets, provided by a Malian woman named Agit whom we’d befriended as our personal whisky & gin sachet seller, ensued before the real events of the night got started with highlights including a Jewish New York funk band called Sway Machinery, who played re-interpretations of Jewish folk tunes, a French violinist, Jean-Marc Phillippe who treated us to some Bach, but the real treat came at the end of the night when Cheick Tidiane Seck and his all-star band performed a jam session with musicians Haira Arby, Habib Koite, Amadou & Mariam all getting involved. Cheick’s band were incredible, finding places for all the musicians who decided to get involved no matter what they wanted to play.
At some point during the night Sinead had managed to find a VIP badge. I won’t speculate as to how she did it, but she wore it with pride. And then she disappeared, only to reappear on-stage, dancing around at the back while Cheick Tidiane Seck and Amadou & Mariam sang “Beaux Dimanches”. Upon reappearing Sinead then took a painting of Garry’s, named “Young Paddy” which Garry was apparently taking around the world and photographing after stealing it from a friend - the photo’s of course being sent back to the original owner. Sinead then went back on-stage to dance with “Young Paddy”. Sadly, I don’t think anyone took a photo of them, but “Young Paddy” can be happy enough having been photographed in the hands of Henry Rollins and of course, myself!
We headed back to the campsite around 4.30am having seen the cream of Africa’s musical talent. The lack of festival organisation meant that some of the better known acts hadn’t played as long as I’d liked, but I didn’t miss anything and I had an incredible time. The Western acts often felt a little out-of-place but I still envied them the ability to share a stage with such great musicians in the middle of the Sahara desert.
We were shaken awake at 6am by the Sahel Tours guy who had provided our campsite. It was freezing and I’d barely slept, but they insisted we pack up and leave as soon as possible. Henry had already left to catch the first flight out of Timbuktu to Bamako, in order to get back to Dublin to start his tour, and Jeff and his dad had also left to head South to Mopti and Dogon Country. So those of us remaining were left wondering why we were in such a rush.

If you’d like to hear some of the Malian music I’ve been banging on about, and you have Spotify I suggest you go here, to a playlist I constructed for your delectation.

Meeting Henry Rollins in the Sahara

Tue, 2 Feb 2010 21:05:54 +0000

Day One - here

Day Two - 8 January, 2010
Over breakfast on the second day I mentioned to Jeff, one of the guys I was sharing the campsite with, that one of the other guys sharing our campsite and walking over towards us looked just like Henry Rollins. After a short conversation with the Rollins look-alike I asked his name.
“Henry”.
“Oh, you ARE Henry”, said I, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
“Yes”, he replied, “you mean, as in Henry Rollins” and then reeled off some quote or lyric that I was too embarrassed to actually remember. I’m not usually star-struck, I work in a studio where famous people come and go all the time, and I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and talk to several of my heroes. But that’s work and you kind of expect it, you’re in a social context where it’s the norm. You don’t expect to meet celebrities over breakfast while you’re camping in the Sahara. And especially not one that you’d only recently been reading about. Before I went away I started reading Michael Azerrad’s book “Our Band Could Be Your Life”, which documents the American underground in the 80s and opens with a chapter on Black Flag. So having the lead singer sharing my campsite kind of shook me.
To escape the sun we retreated to the shelter of the camel-skin Tuareg tents, where we chatted away about music, travelling, politics, etc. with Henry leading the conversation as only a man who tours doing spoken word probably can.
After lunch a few of us went for a wander into the handicraft area, where we dared to face the oncoming hordes of Tuareg’s shouting “bon prix”, before heading off to watch the camel race. A lot of fuss was made over the camel race, but I couldn’t fathom it. None of the camels appeared to be moving, and certainly not with any haste.
After a while spent sitting around in the sand waiting for something to happen Jeff bemoaned the lack of a football and then instantly spotted a kid with one. We gestured towards him and started a small kick about. It quickly grew into some weird amorphous version of keep-away, with more and more locals joining in, including one carrying a bunch of stuff on his head and refusing to put it down. It didn’t take long for my lungs to get torn to shreds; the flat football, and sand made for a tough game. Sadly my camera was dead by this point, having suffered from the heat and sand, so I have no photos, although there were a considerable number of photographers around taking pics so maybe one will turn up.
The music finally got started at around 8/9pm and once again the Malian bands wiped the floor with the Western guests. Animal Collective’s Deacon parting the crowds like Moses at the Red Sea. He opened his set telling the crowd; “this is experimental music”, and then proceeded to do nothing more experimental than play guitar and sing through a delay pedal to an uninspiring beat. To give him the benefit of the doubt he looked pretty scared up their, and I’m guessing half his equipment probably wasn’t working, but it certainly killed the vibe. This was promptly followed by a fashion show, which made even less sense, but somehow was far more fun and then the music carried on long into the night, culminating with a tribute to Ali Farka Touré with Afel Bocoum, Vieux Farka Touré (Ali’s son) and Haira Arby amongst others. The tribute seemed largely to be a jam session with musicians coming and going. By 4am, Vieux Farka Touré came on, but only a couple of songs in the calabash player (a calabash is a fruit, which has many uses in Africa, but the large ones can be dried, hollowed out, halved and used as a percussion instrument) got so frustrated at having played for so long that he smashed his instrument, grabbed his bag and ran off the stage gesticulating with his fingers how many hours he’d been playing.

Day Three - here