Tag Archives: Hugh Padgham

Haim, Haerts & the return of gated reverb and sundry other 1980s production trends

I’ve discussed before the move from damped, dead drum sounds to ambient, live drum sounds that occurred in the late 1970s and early 1980s in the context of records by Stevie Nicks and Bruce Springsteen. But those artists were relative minnows in the big bam boom game compared to the king of gigantosaur drums: Phil Collins.

But of course you know this, and you may well also know the name of the technique used to create these sounds. Gated reverb was one of the key defining sounds of 1980s rock and pop. It was a solution to a very particular problem. If you record a drum kit in a big room, the whole drum kit gets big, with long decays that muddy and confuse the sound; the faster and more complex the material, the less suited it would then be for heavy reverb.

But what if you could apply this heavy reverb in small doses, snap it quickly on and off to give that snare drum a quick but controlled burst of power? That’s precisely the solution that Hugh Padgham at the Townhouse and, independently, the team at Tony Bongiovi’s Power Station in New York arrived at. Use the close snare mic to trigger a noise gate strapped across a pair of room mics so the huge reverb is applied for, say, a few hundred milliseconds, and then snapped off. If you’re trying to remember what that sounds like, think Let’s Dance (produced by Nile Rogers at the Power Station), think Some Like it Hot (by the Power Station, the other one), think China in Your Hand.

Think Wings by HAERTS. HAERTS are a New York synth-poppy rock band on Columbia. Their debut album has just come out, but it’s been percolating for a while. Wings itself came out in 2012, a debut EP came out last year and the album, HAERTS, has just come out. Yeah, the misspelling and the capital letters are annoying (and from now on, I’m going to drop the all caps). So they’re not off to a great start there.

Not to be cynical, but Haerts seem to me to be an attempt by Columbia to achieve what Polydor has with Haim: same slow drip of material over a couple of years to build a base on college radio (KEXP Seattle has been behind them since the start), similar sounds and influences, taken a step of two further, even an all-capped stylised name.

This is the thing. Production fashions are an arms race. This is how it happened last time gated reverb was the thing. One artist does something, the next one repeats it but takes it further, everyone piles in until a point is reached where someone says, OK, enough, and sets their own trend. There’s some gated reverb on the drums on Days are Gone. Noticeably so, but tastefully so. There are some percussion tracks overdubbed over the backbone drum track — as in, say, the later choruses of Falling — which recall Some Like it Hot. There’s quite a lot of semi-clean palm-muted guitar. Haim, or their producer Ariel Rechtshaid, are expert ’80s glory-moment spotters. To take Falling again, when the song breaks down to a chant of “Never look back, never give up” over handclaps, who’s thinking of Wanna Be Starting Something’s famous “mama-say mama-sa mama-ko-sa” chant section? At least some of us, I’m sure. There’s an attention to detail here: the references aren’t hidden, but they’re not sledgehammer obvious either. If you’re not familiar, they’ll slide right by.

Wings, the aforementioned Haerts single (above), is much less coy about letting you know where it’s coming from. It’s all there in the 4-bar intro of unaccompanied, huge, gated-reverb drums. It’s an extraordinarily confident place to start your debut single from, but the band do have the advantage of knowing that this sound connected with a big audience relatively recently. That being so, why not give them more of the same, but bigger, and louder?

Now, I don’t want to sound too cynical. I like the song. At least, I like the groove, and I admire the construction (for which a lot of credit must surely go to the producer St Lucia, Jean-Philip Grobler). For a record that feels a little like it’s been precision tooled to work in the space created by the success of Days are Gone, it remains a likeable piece of work.

The weird thing for me is hearing the soundworld of T’Pau and early Til Tuesday recreated so painstakingly and then seeing it marketed as indie rock. I genuinely don’t know – do the folks younger than me who are into this remember the stuff that it is emulating? Was it still on the radio in the late 1990s and early 2000s? When I was a teenager in the mid-1990s, listening to contemporary rock music and forming my own tastes and preferences, nothing could have sounded older, more tasteless or garish to me than a big, gated-reverb drum sound. It was the preserve of poodle-haired corporate metal bands. Later on when I’d grown up a bit, I had to train myself to put those objections aside, to listen past the obvious signifiers and give the music a fair hearing. But nevertheless, my tastes were formed in the era they were formed in, and despite this being the sound of the popular music of my childhood, it’s not my sound. Perhaps the folks making these records are too young to have these hang-ups.

I fear a gated-reverb arms race is underway, which means the next few years are going to be pretty painful for this Steely Dan and Fleetwood Mac fan.

HAERTS
HAERTS – hi there, suspiciously old-lookin’ dude second from right!

Advertisements

Underrated Drum Tracks I Have Loved, Part 2

What’s exciting and endlessly fascinating about recording drums (and the same is true for when you’re listening to music too, I think, although when I began placing microphones I became consciously aware of all the practical implications of something I’d previously understood unconsciously) is that every drummer in the world – every single one – is different. Give them the same boom-boom-bap drum pattern to play and the same tempo to play it at, and every drummer will be different. Different feels, different internal balance between the kick, snare and hi-hat. Some will feel almost metronically perfect. Others will get on top of the beat and look to push the excitement by playing the snare right on the very front of the beat. Some will lay back, adding a don’t-hurry-me swing. Hopefully these three wildly different drum tracks will demonstrate this (listen to the first 30 seconds of #4, then switch to #5 – you should really hear what I’m talking about!

3) Rock With You – Michael Jackson

John ‘JR’ Robinsons’ drums on Rock With You are almost superhumanly tight, but they’re not rigid. It feels great. You could never listen to this song and assume that the rhythm track was programmed – it’s too playful. Two and four on the snare, 16th notes in the intro and choruses, 8th notes in the verse, displaced quarters in the pre-chorus (by which I mean he plays the ‘and’, as in one-And-two-And-three-And-four-And), endless little ‘pssts’ and emphases – he’s having a ball.

The recording of the drums, by Quincy Jones’s long-time engineer, Bruce Swedien, is fantastic. Like Alan Parsons (qv), Swedien is not a fan of compressing signals with heavy transient content (like drums). Over to Bruce:

Good transient response is especially important when recording acoustic instruments. This is one case where it’s extremely important for one to have equipment that is able to capture as much of the initial transient as possible, and all its accompanying delicate details.
In the music that I am normally involved in, I have always felt that good transient content is one of the very most important components of the recorded image.
I would even go so far as to say that transient response has at its core a direct relationship to the emotional impact of a recording. Particularly in the main genres of music that I record…. namely R&B and pop recordings.
The faithful recording and reproduction of sound source transients makes the strong rhythmic elements in R&B and pop recordings much more dramatic. These are the elements that are so important, such as the ‘kick’ or bass drum, the snare drum, hand-claps, percussion… etc.
I think that well recorded transients give R & B and ‘Pop’ recordings a feeling of tremendous energy.
To me, the excessive use of compression and limiting diminish the drama of sound source transients in recorded music.

(from a Q&A on gearslutz.com, where Bruce did his best to school the tin-eared masses)

Back to JR. As well as being the creator of some of the most danceable drum tracks in this history of popular music (Rock With You, Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough, The Way You Make Me Feel, Give Me the Night), his opening snare fill on Rock With You is one of the all-time fills.

4) Every Breath You Take – The Police

Stewart Copeland is a famously ‘busy’ drummer, so it’s not a surprise that his simplest part may be also his most underrated. But it perhaps also allows us a little look at what makes him tick as a player. Copeland’s tricky hi-hat fills in songs like Walking on the Moon showed a player who liked to fill space, but the choruses to songs like Roxanne revealed the power and energy he had in the tank when he chose to use it (listen to the outro when Copeland plays a double-time backbeat alternating between the snare and toms – he’s clearly giving the toms what for).

So Copeland’s playing had an oafish streak to it, at odds with his reputation as a progger and reggae fan. But there’s another factor in his drum part to Every Breath You Take: his frustration at Sting’s insistence that he play a very simple kick and snare part with no hi-hat in the verse, and no fills. This tension boiled over frequently in the studio and soon enough would end the band. But in terms of this recording, we ended up with a drum track in which Copeland strains at the leash all the way through. He’s right on top of the beat, almost to the point of being early. He’s this barely contained energy animating the whole song. Again, the indispensability of Copeland’s contribution is confirmed by listening to any of the godawful cheesy versions Sting has done live since the Police split up.

5) If It Makes You Happy – Sheryl Crow

Every time I hear this song on the radio I’m tickled by just how lazy the drum track feels. I don’t mean that the drummer can’t be bothered; I mean that the drummer couldn’t be any more at the back of the beat without the song grinding to a halt. There’s no doubt that this effect is intended. The lazy swagger of the song is the whole point. The drummer wisely keeps the fills to the minimum, concentrating on placement of the backbeat at the very back end of the beat, but his sudden, frantic 7-stroke triplet drum roll at the end of the last verse, under the song’s key line ‘So what if right now everything’s wrong?’, is a great addition.

According to Discogs, the drummer was Michael Urbano. Jim Keltner and Pete Thomas (the Attractions) also play on the parent album, and as much as I love those two guys (Pete Thomas on Elvis Costello’s Sulky Girl is one of my favourite drum performances ever), I can’t imagine even those all-time greats playing the song better than Urbano did.