Sound_and_Tech_Assignment_2_FINAL

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‘The Nth º’: a Production by the artist/producer
OVERWERK
For hundreds of years the only way to experience music was to listen to a
musical ‘performance’, a real-time production of sound that is created and/or
facilitated by people. The invention of Edison’s phonograph in 1877 was an
early step in the creation of the modern ‘recording’. Now, in the early 21st
century, the ‘production’ seems to be a term growing in popularity in some
areas of musical society. This essay presents ‘The Nth º’, by Edmond Huszar
(2011), as an example of a music ‘production’, using an analysis of the work
to explore and challenge the term alongside its alternatives. Ultimately, I aim
to give a critical explanation as to what the term ‘production’ means in the
modern day, what makes ‘The Nth º’ a production rather than a recording, and
what significance this has in relation to the state of the musical world today.
Before the central in-depth discussion takes place on my reasoning for why
the production should be seen and appreciated as a separate entity to other
mediums of musical work, I should solidify my position in relation to the
‘alternative terms’ commonly used to describe musical works, particularly the
‘recording’ as this is the most likely term to be used to describe works such as
‘The Nth º’ other than ‘production’. I will explain what it is about a musical work
that warrants it being defined as a musical recording from an artistic
perspective, outside of the obvious black and white answers; a record on an
album of a band playing a song is obviously a recording, but its status as a
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recording can be more or less transparent. My position is that the creative
labour put into a musical work is distributed differently in a transparent
recording versus in a non-transparent one, and that this will have an effect on
the overall value system adhered to by the end result. As Clarke argues,
aspects of the recording have developed into what could be seen as artistic in
themselves (1983), and I take much the same view with ‘the production’. In
this part of the essay the ‘performance’ will also be examined as a piece of
terminology, as the gray area between a recording as a captured ‘studio
performance’ and a 'live' performance (Davies, 2001C, p.2) is also one shared
by the term ‘production’. Where are the lines that define a ‘production’ against
a ‘recording’ or ‘performance’?
From here, I will begin a discussion on the actual process of production itself
when placed in contrast to the processes involved in the other modes of
musical labour mentioned previously. After all, as well as ‘a production’ being
a completed work, ‘production’ describes a process, and this process is
different to the process of recording, composing or performing. It is difficult to
discern the exact process of production undergone to create ‘The Nth º’, but
those conclusions that can be drawn from the end result will be brought into
the discussion. The topics here will feature the first in-depth talk of the actual
work itself, which sits alongside my argument here. Through an analysis of
the work I ultimately wish to gain an understanding as to where the value in
the work is and therefore how it is valued, and this will form some points in
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later section of the essay on the distribution of labour and value in different
types of musical work.
After I have adequately grounded my initial position with regards to the terms
'recording' and 'production', the history of the term production will be
discussed. Since the term’s roots are embedded in a role within the studio,
perhaps the idea of ‘the producer’ as a member of a recording and production
team has contributed to the idea of ‘the production’. The role of the
independent music producer in terms of their responsibilities within the studio
can be seen as an extension of the role of the team-playing producer in the
traditional sense, and the evolution of ‘the producer’ in the modern music
industry linked to the growth of the idea of the production. I present Huszar as
an example of a modern independent producer, and relevant background
information will be presented here in discussion about what it means to be an
independent producer today. In this part of the essay, another important
question is whether or not the creative circumstances and the person
undertaking the musical labour has an effect on a work’s status as a
production. If a work is ‘produced’ by what we know or think of as ‘a producer’,
does that make it ‘a production’ by default? If not, then does having the
creator be a ‘modern day independent producer’ as I describe it shape the
work in a way that means it pertains to the ‘production’ definition more
accurately than the alternatives to this term. This in turn leads into perhaps
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the most central part of my argument on the musical work and, in turn,
musical labour.
As has been discussed by Davies and Talbot (2001A; 2000), the ‘musical
work’ is an important idea but also one that inspires a large number of
questions. I will explain my position with regards to this idea, and also bring
creative labour into the equation, by arguing that the distribution of creative
labour within the creative process is important in both the end result itself, and
also to how the end result is defined. It is very evident that ‘The Nth º’ has had
a large amount of creative labour put into it, and this has an important
relationship with where value is found in the work.
Lastly, my conclusion draws together my reasoning for why Huszar’s ‘The Nth
º’ is a good example of a production. The final part of the essay attempts to
define as definitively as possible the boundaries of the term ‘production’, and
what it means for the musical work.
To begin, then, I will explore the meaning and usage of the terms ‘recording’
and ‘performance’. Davies says how “we talk of performances that are found
on tapes, vinyl records, CDs, videos, and DVDs”, and that “most musical
works are created for live performance and most live performances are of
works” (2001C, p.2). This is important, because it conveys a large amount
about the relationship between performance and recording. In a broad sense,
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one could say that recording is simply the capturing of a live performance, and
in a broad sense I agree. There are a number of things to take into
consideration, though. It is clear that the recording process requires a great
amount of skill (Clarke, 1983) – from the very onset of the recording's position
in the music industry, it was not as simple as performing in a live situation and
having a storage device magically appear with a perfect rendition of the aural
experience captured on it (Gracyk,1997). On the contrary, the 'performance'
situation was entirely different; the technological limitations of the recording
equipment meant that the performers were required to sit closely together and
move as little as possible whilst also playing as loudly as possible. Recording
a performance, then, has always been something different to performing to an
audience at a live event. As Davies says, there is a difference between a live
performance and a “studio performance” (2001C, p.1).
If asked to imagine a modern studio, you would probably think of a large
mixing desk, some monitor speakers and a large glass window looking into
the live room, but not a concert venue. This image demonstrates how today's
modern recording methods are still plagued with technological limitations.
Microphones are not directional enough that we could do without the sound-
proof wall between the recording engineer and the performer(s), and most
studios wont have the facilities to record more than one instrument at once
without sound 'leaking' between parts. As a result of this, most recordings of
songs by bands, or any other multiple-part works, will be recorded using multi-
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tracking (Julien, 1999). This will come with its own limitations and
fundamentally changes the performance scenario for each performer when
compared to a live situation. It is these limitations in combination with the
complexity of the tools and processes used to create a recorded work that
results in so many creative options.
When a recording project is started there are many questions to be asked to
the client. If somebody wants to record a vocal track, for example, one could
use a very hi-fidelity microphone designed to give the most 'true' sound of the
voice, or perhaps an older microphone to get a more 'vintage' sound. On top
of this, there is the type of pre-amp to use, and then what compressor and
compression to send the signal through. Each different combination will
provide a different sound, and it takes a lot of knowledge and understanding
to make a well-informed decision.
It seems that this is where a lot of the creative decisions lie, and perhaps one
of the most important creative decisions to be made is how 'transparent' the
recording should be. By this, I refer to how 'raw-sounding' or 'natural-
sounding' the recording is – essentially, is the recording meant to be listened
to as a recording or a performance (Gracyk, 1997; Davies, 2001C)? I argue
that creative decisions made in the recording process can sway this answer
from one to the other. For example, an electric guitar could be mixed to sound
like it is being played very close to the listener's ear, and stereo imaging could
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be used to make it sound much larger or wider than it could be made to sound
in a live-performance scenario. The end product created here would be more
obviously a recording; it would be less transparent. Alternatively, the guitar
could be recorded and mixed to give the impression that it has been placed in
a real performance space, so that it feels as though it is slightly in the distance
off to the left or right. Some might call this a more 'authentic' or 'true' recording
(Davies, 2001C, p.1).
The main points that I wish to draw from this are as follows. Recording is not
simply the capturing of a musical performance, but is a very different process
for the performer. There are also a large number of creative decisions to be
made during the process that affect the end result – the recording process
inevitably colours the 'performance' and it could be viewed as an art in itself
(Clarke, 1983), although I do not go so far as to call it an art form. I wish also
to note some perhaps more fundamental observations here with regards to
'the recording'. Firstly, a recording must feature recorded sound – there must
be a physical sound source being converted into a sound recording that is
then stored on a medium of sorts. Additionally, although there are creative
decisions made during the recording process, these are decisions that effect
how the process mediates a musical work between creation and the final
'recording'; there has already been musical work done prior to this. There is a
creation, and then it is captured via the recording process, resulting in a new
musical result. As well as this, during the recording process work done within
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the DAW (after the actual recording itself has been completed) is technical; it
is about enhancing the musical work already done by tweaking, editing and
making changes to the mix in order to get the most desirable recorded result.
With this in mind, it may now have become apparent how Huszar's 'The Nth º'
does not fit this model. It does not seem fitting to describe a work such as this
one as 'a recording' since its creation is via such a different process, even if it
does appear on the same storage mediums. Next, then, I will discuss 'The Nth
º', focusing on the process of creation and picking out specific and relevant
areas of interest to discuss in chronological order.
Edmond Huszar goes by the artist alias ‘OVERWERK’, and 'The Nth º' is the
title of his first EP as well as the name of the title track. His own website
describes his style as blending “the heavy complexities of electro with the
orchestral feel of a cinematic score” (OVERWERK, 2015), and it is apparent
why. 'The Nth º' starts with a reference to the 1977 sci-fi film 'Close
Encounters of the Third Kind' (Spielberg, 1977) by playing the five-note motif
featured in the iconic 'first contact' scene, immediately taking the listener back
to a retro seventies feel. After comparing the motif in the film and in Huszar's
introduction, it is clear that Huszar has re-made the sound used in the film on
a synthesizer rather than sampling. This is not particularly interesting in itself,
but what comes to mind here is the idea of purpose. There is no way to know
from listening to the production how much thought Huszar put into the
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decision to make that reference, but it certainly has a purposeful result in that
it contextualizes the subsequent music and demonstrates that there is an
artistic intention behind the work beyond being an effective dance track.
After this, we experience a perhaps odd blend of synthesizer sounds and
orchestral instrumentation, although it seems safe to say that the orchestral
sounds heard are produced by software instruments, and this builds in
intensity until one minute into the track. This should be briefly noted because
although it could be coincidence, it can also be a tell-tale sign of a modern
electronic dance track intended to be played by DJs. One-hundred-and-
twenty-eight beats per minute is a very common tempo for contemporary and
commercial electronic dance tracks as one-hundred-and-twenty-eight beats
also happens to be thirty-two bars in 4/4, and having an introduction of exactly
one minute is very convenient for DJs.
The start of this next section features a number of interesting features. Firstly,
the percussive hit (from what sounds like a timpani) on the first beat is typical
of modern commercial tracks, especially dance tracks, and in the background
'behind' the new melody is a sound resembling distorted white noise. This
white noise is not only distorted but is also 'side-chained', meaning that a
compressor is set to reduce the sound's volume when it receives a signal over
its threshold from another channel. In this case, the noise 'pumps' on every
beat as is very common -again- with commercial modern dance tracks. From
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an early point, then, Huszar is using particular conventions that give the so-far
'orchestral' track away as being something else as well. The melodic lead line
here has an analogue quality to it and passes through a 'lowpass' filter that
gradually 'opens up' over the next thirty seconds. Note also how it changes
from having sharper 'attack' at the start of each note to gliding between each
note, as well as how this is changed at specific moments in the phrasing to
give rhythmic effects. This, in combination with the pace of the line and
consistency of its timing strongly suggests how it was created within a DAW
environment – there was never a 'studio performance' (Davies, 2001C) in the
same sense as in a recording.
Another interesting feature is the addition of a subtle delay effect in the lead
melody at 1:26, most noticeably until approximately 1:30 through the track. It
is difficult to hear, but there could also be an increase in the level of reverb on
the line here as well. These may seem like small details, but they are
significant in that they demonstrate one of the key features of musical works
such as 'The Nth º', and that is the use of studio 'tools' as creative devices and
musical signifiers.
In a 'traditional' recording scenario, the use of reverb or delay would likely be
much more consistent than this; it would be applied at a certain level on said
track. Reverb would also be used as a mixing device as much as it is used to
give a certain effect (such as making an instrument sound as if it is far away).
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In 'The Nth º', however, it serves as more of a purely aesthetic choice as it
'warps' the synthetic space that the synthesized melody is in. It is not trying to
represent an authentic or realistic space by any measure, but is using a studio
tool as a creative device to give the desired effect. Another good example of
this would be the filter (or 'EQ') used on the synthesizer up until this point. In a
recording an EQ (or equalizer) would be used to balance frequency levels
between the different parts of the recording to make the mix sound better, but
in this case the previously transparent studio tool is being used in a very
obvious fashion.
The next section of interest arrives exactly one minute after the first at the
two-minute mark. The thirty seconds from this point feature a very large
amount of filtering or 'EQ-ing' as mentioned, as well as side-chaining.
However, I wish to draw attention to the sampled drum part that first starts at
2:20 and repeats incredibly fast, increasing in speed to almost give the
impression that it is another synthesizer by when it ends. This is another
example of something that is 'impossible' in an authentic or real acoustic
sense, but in a production context is a musical element to be used to its own
ends.
What is clear at this point is that the creative choices made in this 'production'
are different in nature to those of the 'recording' alternative, even if some of
the more specific tools and processes used can be seen in both instances. It
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is not so much the tools being used themselves that are important, but the
way in which they are being used, and what purpose their use has. This in
turn contributes to the different distributions of musical labour in areas of the
creative process between the production and the recording, which is what I
will discuss after looking into the historical role of the producer.
As has been alluded to a number of times, there are definite elements of a
stereotypically commercial record of the 21st
century featured in 'The Nth º',
and I believe this is linked with the evolution of the ‘traditional’ producer role
within the studio to the ‘bedroom’ or ‘independent’ producer now. By
‘traditional’ I mean the producer on a team overseeing the production of a
record by a band or other music artist. As Carter puts, “the producer generally
works in collaboration with a performer/songwriter and engineer on some or
all aspects of the production process which can include songwriting,
instrumentation, engineering, arrangements and even performance” (Carter,
2005, p.3). In the team environment, then, the producer has a broad role in
overseeing the entire project and have a responsibility to shape it in a way
that keeps the band, record company and audience all happy with the end
product. In the case of a solo vocal artist, Hennion describes their role as
“representing the public to the singer” (1989, p.402).
For example, if a band were working on an album the producer would be
there to guide them creatively during the arrangement process, possibly
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suggesting that ‘a fill be added there’, or ‘the last chorus feels too long’.
During the actual recording process they may give the band members advice
for performing in the studio or advise the sound engineer as to what sound
they want and so what recording equipment to use. After the recording has
been done they could choose to add samples or a white noise track –
whatever is needed to make the end product more polished (if that is what is
required) and attractive to both the band and the record company. The point
that I wish to assert here is that production has always been tied on some
level to the commercial side of the creative process. Even if it is their role to
keep the band happy, they are also there to ensure that the product produced
is suitable for a target audience and that it is commercially viable for the
record company. They are there to guide the creative process, but in a
direction that benefits the musical work on a commercial level.
It is my view that the ‘role’ of the ‘bedroom producer’, if it is acceptable to call
it that, still very much resembles the role of the producer described up until
this point, but on a much ‘purer’ level. What Huszar does, and I am placing
him under the label of ‘bedroom producer’, is what the ‘traditional’ producer
might do if the band were taken out of the equation. If instead of having an
advisory position the producer were given complete creative control of the
project without the need to negotiate, then that would be much closer to what
Huszar does as an independent ‘bedroom’ producer. Now, I am not
insinuating that all producers would immediately start work on an electronic
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dance project, but that if the producer is placed in the spotlight then the
project becomes about the producer’s role in the studio. Therefore, the
addition of particular types of fills, increases in reverb levels or samples that
may have previously been a source of inauthenticy in the recording (to give a
few examples), are now at the forefront of the work. Production ‘tricks’ used in
commercial ‘recordings’ that have lead to tracks being called ‘over-produced’
are now a large part of what gives a production by producers such as Huszar
value.
As well as this, the producer also has duties outside of the creative process.
“There are many duties the producer may fulfill, such as managing a
budget and scheduling rehearsal and recording times, which have no
discernable (read audible) impact on the outcome of the recording
process.”
- Carter, 2005, p.2 (citing Huber & Runstein, 1997, p.18)
In addition to making the musical work itself, Huszar also designs his own
album artwork (OVERWERK, 2015), and this is something that the bedroom
producer again has complete control of. I wish to briefly make the point here
that this has an effect, however marginal, on the aesthetic of the end result. It
demonstrates how Huszar has a very broad role (as with the ‘traditional’
producer,) and that the boundaries of the ‘production’ are not always confined
specifically to the musical work itself; the work put into a production for the
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bedroom producer reaches outside of the creative process itself, and the
balance of this creative labour is what will be discussed next.
Here, both the recording and production processes will be discussed in terms
of where the musical and creative labour is most prolific, and how this relates
to value in the works produced. Fundamental to my position on the recording
is how work is done before the actual 'recording' process begins itself. Before
there can be a recording process there must have been a musical creation to
record – even if it is a transitory and momentary creation such as an
improvisation that then gets recorded mere moments later, or a sound that is
in one's imagination that demands recording attempt after recording attempt
until an accurate enough recording is captured.
“Whereas on stage Hendrix had had to judge to experiential impact of
sounds each moment as he brought them into being, in the studio this
instant response could be supplanted or supplemented by a more
considered response; each sound, as caught on tape, became
repeatable, perfectible, subject to assessment, revision, [and]
manipulation...”
- Clarke, 1983, p.195
This initial first 'layer' of creative work done (Talbot, 200, p.3) then undergoes
a number of mediating processes as a part of the larger recording process,
each with its own work to be done. The area of creative work is in knowing
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how this musical work should be translated into a recorded medium. By this, I
do not mean the physical translation from acoustic to digital but that there
must be a decision as to what kind of recorded result is wanted; for example,
in relation to whether the musical work should be portrayed as an authentic
recorded performance or recording without pretense as discussed earlier.
Following this, technical (although not necessarily uncreative) choices must
be made by whomever is fulfilling the role as sound engineer with regards to
what recording set-up to use order to best achieve the desired result. As well
as this, there is also work in the communication between everyone working on
the project (Talbot, 2000, p.3) – the engineer must be able to effectively
communicate to the musicians in a way that they can understand in order to
get them to perform in the best way possible for the recording process, and
this could have implications on the finished recording. To finish off the process
somebody with an adequate understanding of the tools at hand will make any
required edits or enhancements to the recording, before it is completed as a
separate musical work to the initial idea at the start of the process.
Where the creative work occurs in this process is strongly linked to where
value is placed in the end result. In a recording, then, the value lies perhaps
most obviously with the initial musical work done by the artist before the
recording stage, but also in a number of other places, and these have more
value placed on them in a less 'transparent' recording. The first of these is in
the ability of the artists and sound engineer to create a unique recording
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process to translate the initial musical idea into the most effective and/or
desirable recording. As well as this, there is value in the correct use of the
mixing and editing tools available (most likely within a DAW) to get the best
sounding recording.
In the production the creation of the raw initial idea is valued in much the
same way as in the recording process. However, the primary difference in
terms of where value is placed is that in the production the mixing and editing
tools used at the end of the recording process are embedded in the initial
creative process. It is the creative use of these tools that is a primary source
of musical work in the production, and this is a key point in my conclusion with
regards to what defines a musical work as 'a production' rather than 'a
recording'. That being said, though, it should be noted that the recording and
the production do share some practices – it does not seem that it is always
possible to draw a direct line between these two terms, although in the case
of 'The Nth º' I say that it is clear.
In conclusion, 'The Nth º' by Huszar is a demonstration first and foremost of
the need for alternative terminology with regards to the term 'recording'. As
can be seen by critically examining the recording processes and outcomes, as
well as where the creative labour is done and also where it is invested in the
final work, it is apparent how 'The Nth º' is not described or expressed well by
the term 'recording'. Instead, I argue that the work is more accurately
described by the term 'production', which implies that the work has a different
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process of creation and also adheres to a different value system. Crucially, the
production features the tools, and aspects of the 'vocabulary' (Tagg, 1999,
p.11) of a commercial production in the traditional sense. In a production,
however, these techniques are far more embedded in the work as a whole.
There is no expectation that the production be an authentic or transparent
recording, but it is instead about the recording tools being used in a creative
way. Although certain aspects of both the recording and the production are
shared – the literal sound quality of the end result is highly valued and is an
area containing large amounts of creative labour in both cases, the creative
process of production primarily occurs within a DAW. There is not a musical
work or idea which is then captured a tweaked within a DAW, but the DAW
plays the role of the live room as well as all other creative studio spaces.
Furthermore, what happens inside of the DAW is creation followed by
tweaking and editing, rather than only the latter. 'Production' implies a broad
musical work spanning across the creation and refinement of a music project,
including overseeing the marketing, time management and album artwork, in
which the producer is the sole creative force.
Word count: 4764
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