Stepping into the recording studio, two full rows of guitars of different models, two shelves of drumheads of various types, and an array of instruments captured the eye, but none could divert attention from the colossal entity right in front.
The sound control desk, about three meters wide, was adorned with countless buttons, a sight that might make those with a fear of tight spaces faint on the spot. The oak wood, a natural hue, was solidly bound and radiated a lovely luster beneath the cream-colored lights. Two ashtrays filled with cigarette butts and microphone sponges lay haphazardly on top, evidence of recent activity.
And there it was, the renowned Neve 8028!
What accounted for Sound City's potent allure, drawing countless legendary singers, especially rock bands, to record here? The answer lay within this Neve 8028 mixing console and their exceptional drum recording techniques.
In the contemporary era of digital technology, an amateur singer standing before a recording microphone could have their every off note mended by a recording engineer frame by frame, resulting in a polished final product with no flaws whatsoever. This propelled the rise of idol singers, where appearance trumped all - pitch, precision, timbre, none of these were issues. The recording studio could work wonders.
Conversely, those singers with powerful voices but lacking standout looks struggled for recognition, which was a significant factor contributing to the immense popularity of "American Voice".
However, during the era of traditional record production, recording studios lacked this technology. They depended on the massive mixing console to repeat the process over and over again, seeking out each imperfection in the sound. The singer absorbed lessons and experience, then re-entered the studio for another round, and another, tirelessly. The Neve 8028 excelled at this, presenting the most essential, primal, and nuanced sound effects. It elevated the singer's essence to its utmost, making it the prime allure of Sound City.
In the modern age of digital technology, a singer might only need an hour, even just half an hour, to complete recording a song, leaving the rest to computer technology. But in the traditional era, a song could require repetition upon repetition and might even take a week to complete a three-minute piece.
Renly's astonishment and delight were barely masked, and a middle-aged man who walked over caught onto this. He pointed toward the console. "She's a real beauty, isn't she?"
Renly nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. I want to take her out for a date right now. Do you think I have a chance?"
The middle-aged man chuckled at the playful comment. "No problem, let's see if there's any chemistry between you two." He turned around, courteously introducing himself, "Herbert Jones. So, you're Renly, right? Are you ready for a little excitement?"
Renly rubbed his palms together with enthusiasm. "Absolutely, can't wait." But he hesitated for a moment. "However, before we start the actual recording, can I get a cup of hot milk?"
Herbert burst into laughter. "Haha, you sound just like Kurt, though he was after alcohol." The amusement was evident in his voice. "Young man, this isn't Century City. If you want something, you've got to fetch it yourself, even cigarette butts."
Andy approached and inquired, "Renly, are you doing okay?"
Renly nodded. "I just need a cup of hot milk." Milk might somewhat alleviate the turmoil in his stomach, offering some help with his hangover.
Andy took a deep breath and glanced around. "God, you really need to hire an assistant." Then he noticed Renly's astonished expression, as if this were a fantastical idea. Andy quickly realized he might have been too forward. He shook his head. "I'll go buy the hot milk. You can get started with your work."
"Discount Cobain, you do know that Sound City can only record physical singles, not digital tracks, right?" Herbert sat down at the sound control desk, skillfully pulling a cigarette from the pack and lighting it directly. "Just now, Andy said you're recording two singles. I was just about to discuss this with him when we got interrupted."
Discount Cobain...
Renly felt his sarcasm was futile, but the focus wasn't on that now. "I understand now." Looking at the recording equipment before him, Renly found it unsurprising.
His knowledge of music history from his previous life was quite limited, just scratching the surface. But he remembered that Sound City gradually declined later on, not knowing the exact year, ultimately leading to its closure.
Now it was apparent why—it couldn't record digital tracks. That was the root cause.
In the 21st century, album sales in the US market had been declining, with single sales rebounding around 2013. Artists were shifting their focus from albums to singles, and digital tracks played an irreplaceable role. So, a recording studio unable to record digital tracks was inevitably being phased out by the times.
"So, you're like Christopher Nolan?" Renly half-jokingly remarked. Christopher Nolan consistently adhered to the most traditional, raw film methods, a point many in Hollywood criticized him for. But Nolan always managed to create fantastic works, ignoring the controversy.
Herbert wore a puzzled expression. "What?"
Evidently, he didn't understand Renly's joke. Renly rubbed his nose and chuckled, shaking his head. "Never mind. What I mean is, physical singles are also fine. With today's advanced computer technology, CDs can easily be converted into digital tracks. It's a straightforward task."
Just a bit of trouble. If everyone made albums this way—recording a physical version first and then converting it into a digital version—it would not only be a hassle but also significantly increase costs. Record companies would probably revolt. Fortunately, Renly was only recording two singles, so it wasn't that troublesome.
"Great," Herbert took a deep drag from his cigarette. "I haven't heard the master yet. Can you perform the original for me right here? Or did you bring the master tape?"
"I can perform the original live." Renly walked over to the guitar rack and leisurely began selecting a guitar. Each guitar had subtle tonal differences, and each individual had their habits and preferences. Herbert wasn't in a hurry either; he calmly watched as Renly conducted the soundcheck. After briefly trying out four guitars, Renly settled on an acoustic one. He turned back and asked, "Can I go into the recording studio now?"
It was evident that Renly was an insider, very clear about his style, preferences, and habits. However, he was a newcomer to the recording studio scene. Independent musicians like him were becoming increasingly rare, much like the current state of Sound City. "Yes, you can directly enter the recording studio. I'll take care of the rest."
Pushing open the adjacent glass door, Renly was bathed in warm yellow light. The spacious room was about half the size of a basketball court, littered with messy cables and even some scattered sheet music. In the center was a microphone stand, and beside it was a stack of sheet music...
"Grab a high stool from the side and bring it over," Herbert's voice came through the speaker. "Those sheet music are David's. Just toss them aside; they know their new songs themselves."
Renly glanced at the pile of sheet music and raised his voice, asking, "Is this the new album of Foo Fighters?" Was that the reason why David and the others had appeared here earlier?
However, Herbert didn't respond. He pointed at his ear and then gestured towards the microphone stand beside the sheet music rack. Renly finally realized he needed to ask his question into the microphone. Herbert nodded this time, and Renly repeated his question clearly, "Yes, they've been recording for over a month, but they've only completed three songs. Progress is slow." He added a bit of criticism, and then Herbert continued, "Whenever you're ready, you can start."
Renly moved the chair to the front of the microphone, adjusted its height, and then sat down, tuning the guitar. In just a short while, he was ready. Looking around, he saw an earpiece hanging on the music stand. He pointed at it and asked Herbert, "Do I need to wear this?" Herbert shook his head, allowing Renly to clear his throat lightly. In the past, from what he had seen in movies, artists had to wear earpieces in the recording studio. He had thought it was a necessity, but now it seemed he was an absolute novice.
Adjusting his seating position, Renly's fingertips began to dance over the guitar strings. He chose "Cleopatra", and in the absence of any accompaniment, the lively melody seemed a bit thin. Yet, its graceful tune filled the recording studio, each note injected with life, making one truly feel its presence.
After completing the performance of the first song, Renly didn't pause. He immediately played "Ophelia" on the guitar. Compared to the keyboard version, the guitar version was excessively bright, lacking the keyboard's hidden loneliness and chilliness. Additionally, it lacked the accompaniment of drums, making the melody seem somewhat monotonous and lacking in depth.
Even so, Renly still enjoyed it, recalling the pure joy and rustic charm of his street performance last night. He felt that this was an entirely new experience. He had never performed on the streets before, and that simple happiness, that genuine emotion, was undeniably enjoyable.
After finishing the performance of the two songs, Herbert didn't speak immediately. He pondered for a moment and then said thoughtfully, "For the first... would an electric guitar be more suitable? The sound is missing some brightness, but it would be richer and more profound with the added depth. Perhaps adding some drums to complement it would enhance the emotional layers."
"I've considered that too. For the chorus, could we switch to an electronic keyboard? Slowing down the rhythm and replacing the guitar's monotony with the keyboard's richness. Additionally, if the guitar could be accompanied by a bit of bass foundation to control the rhythm, it could create a great feeling. Or do you think using a bass guitar is sufficient?"
Both songs were original versions and hadn't been orchestrated yet. However, that didn't mean Renly hadn't considered orchestration. Now that he was in the recording studio, it was time to put his ideas into action.