DONE

After five months in the recording studio, I finally submitted Peryodiko's album master CD to Thirdline (Peryodiko's management) today. With this, my work is done. I was told Thirdline is presently entertaining a number of record company offers. I expect the negotiations will take at least a month, so please be patient about the release.

It has been my pleasure working with the band to turn all the wonderful music and performances into recordings. I wish Peryodiko and Thirdline the best. And I hope you all get to hear this album soon.

Robin Rivera

Producer

The 72-Hour Day, Ocean Waves, Unrequited Emotions, And The Final Act

Last night was our last scheduled studio session. It's as if the three days from the 26th to the 28th of January have been one continuous stream. I spent the day of the 26th finalizing my recording agenda. We spent the evening tidying up the pre-mixes. There are two types of adjustments by this point in the process. One type are performance issues that still irritate me whenever I hear them, an example of which are sub-microtonal pitch problems. The others have to do more with taste than errors, like instrument levels and dynamics. But while the average passive listener will hardly notice these things, I want to get them out of the way because I will have to live with these recordings for the rest of my life. I prepared a list of specific items to work on, and we finished everything by midnight. Vin apparently texted me with some observations at 2am as I arrived home from the previous night's session. But I didn't notice it until I woke up at 5 , having turned off my ringer because I desperately needed at least a couple of hours sleep before taking my family to school. I wondered if Vin had gotten any sleep at all. I then spent the whole morning reviewing the previous night's work. Vin texted me again later that morning with the same comments. I finally answered him, a 3-part message explaining several issues. By then, I had also written down the final round of needed adjustment, and texted Shinji the agenda for the evening. I got to the studio at about 7:30pm on the 27th, just in time to catch Buddy Zabala and Sancho Sanchez wrapping up their session with Silent Sanctuary. Abe and Rica were there, and we started work at about 8pm. We finished this phase of the evening at about 11, at which time Vin showed up. For some strange reason, we all felt unusually hungry even if we had all had dinner before coming to the studio. I decided to take a break and order out for some food. Simon and Tonie showed up at the same time the food arrived. Kakoy begged off because he wasn't feeling well. I instructed Shinji to set up all the songs in sequence so we could hear the entire album for the first time. We grabbed some beers, and I told everyone that no one would leave the room until the album was finished playing. Everyone was silent as the album unfolded. You could say that it was like we had all run out of comments and suggestions. But another way of looking at it is that we could finally kick back and enjoy the fruits of five months of labor. After customary congratulations and chit-chat, Shinji burned us some listening copies, and I left after at about 2am. I got home and managed a couple of hours sleep before taking my family to school. I can't bounce back as quickly as I could when I was younger, so I spent the rest of the day recovering from the sleep deprivation by taking cat naps throughout the day. It was a long 72 hours, and I'm rather relieved its over.

Even before we started recording last August, I had already written down the sequence of songs for the album. Up until last night, Vin asked if we could make some changes. But I have resisted, because I was sure of how I wanted the album to flow. Assembling an album is the final act of production, and it is not unlike making a set-list for a gig. Even if it is not a "concept-album", the sequence has a logic and flow that must retain the listener's attention. But this has become increasingly difficult, given the changing habits of most listeners. It is unfortunate that the ever-increasing pace of life in the 20th and 21st century has caused people to subdivide music, time, and life in general, into short, detached "periods" that lose their context and meaning. When I was a broadcasting undergrad, I remember how we studied how radio DJs would play only enough of a song to establish one verse and chorus, then rudely segue into the next song in an effort to play more songs in their shift, and thus collect more payola to quench their greed. It is also slightly disconcerting that in this iPod generation, most people will pick out only a couple of heavily promoted or hyped "hits", and never give themselves a chance to hear the rest of the songs from the album from where they came. But like all the albums I've produced, I always recommend it be experienced at least once in its entirety. This is why I feel an album is only completed after I have heard the final mixes continuously from start to finish. So after the last strains of Kakoy's guitar feedback on "Walang Kapalit" faded into digital silence, I asked Vin if he finally understood the placement of each song in the album. His simple "yes" was an affirmation of my belief that an album is more than just a bunch of songs thrown together in a recorded medium. Vin said it is a very easy album to listen to, and I agree. It never hits you over the head with a sledgehammer to get attention. Its like the ocean which ebbs and flows with some kind of rhythm, each wave having a unique way of advancing and receding. It unfolds with the logic of a mathematical equation, the creativity of a chord progression, and the organic timelessness as ocean waves.

It took a year and a half from the time I first heard the demo versions of songs on this album to the time we entered the recording studio. It took another five months to complete the album. And it will probably take a few more months for release to the public. Regardless of how long I work on an album, I usually don't listen to it for at least a month due to sheer physical and emotional exhaustion. Most people perceive a producer's work as logistical and technical. But for me, record production involves art, and passion is a major component of artistic work. As with the past two albums I've produced (Flipino and Talaarawan), I asked for a listening party after the last session outside the studio, something like a cast party for the participants and close friends. This is so I could release all my pent-up emotions over the past two years working with Peryodiko, and give the people involved with the production a chance to finally hear the completed work, since all they had heard prior to this were isolated components and drafts. Unfortunately, everyone outside of the band was apparently busy, and the party didn't happen. So because I didn't get a chance for release, my emotions are kind of ruffled, raw, and fettered right now. I guess I'll get over this in time, which will probably be the same time I voluntarily listen to the album again.

But my work is done. It will be passed on to the executive producers to market it, and the artists to continue playing the music in their gigs.The album is beautiful. It challenges my mind, stimulates my senses, and stirs my emotions. I trust you will all get a chance to hear it soon.

The Imperfect Album

22 January 2009

I’m almost ready to finalize the mixes, so I thought this would be a good time to reflect on my original plan of the album.

My framework for an album is governed as much by what I like as what I don’t like. I’ve said earlier that the greatest assets of Peryodiko were Vin’s elegant songs, and the band’s virtuosity. But what I haven’t mentioned yet is that in the past couple of years, I have grown increasingly bothered by the synthetic, overproduced style of too many popular albums. The quest for the elusive “perfection” has robbed too many recordings of the dynamic qualities that makes music what it is. For example, loudness compression has become so severe that most recordings sound squashed and flat. Tempos and pitches have also been so “quantized” that too many performances have become mechanical and robotic. This is why, for example, my favorite albums from this past year is “Bitch For Change” from Reklamo, and the maiden album of the Bembol rockers. These albums may have a few technical and technological issues, and lack the polish of their more commercial counterparts. But I am drawn to them because the music, performances, and recordings are alive, vibrant, and unapologetically human.

When I first met the members of Peryodiko in 2007, I told them that I wanted to record them “live”, like in classic pre-1970‘s jazz recordings. Vin resisted this all the way, saying he wasn’t ready for, or capable of this kind of approach. My compromise was that although we wouldn’t exactly record that way, I would at least try to make it sound like it. Most rock connoisseurs would automatically anticipate this to result in a “raw” performance/recording. But that’s not the right adjective. As musicians, Abe, Kakoy, Simon and Vin are too “refined” to be considered “raw”. In art, there is a grey area between what is considered “raw” and “polished”. Japanese aesthetics uses the concepts of “wabi-sabi” to marry the quest for human refinement, and the organic imperfection of nature. I haven’t come across a similar term in Filipino, but anyone who has worked seriously in Philippine art knows a similar concept operates in our culture. In my productions, I call this the “edge”, and I always try to find a source for this in my works.

I’ve heard of one comment that the pre-mixes lack some elements of common “mainstream” pop records. I lost one nights’ sleep worrying whether I should succumb to such commercial conventions. Even our engineer Shinji initially felt intimidated by the fact that there were so few tracks in the arrangements compared to other commercial albums, and wondered how he was going to make the mix sound competitively full. But while I fully understand where these concerns are coming from, it is exactly these canonical issues that are the source of my dissatisfaction with too many current albums. Unfortunately for the industry, the aesthetic in me is usually more stubborn than the capitalist in me. My academic colleagues believe that art is an area of contestation and discourse. Although this philosophy exposes a work to criticism, it also challenges those whose critique remain based on canonical complacency. So I remain firm in my original framework, and this is not going to change anytime soon.

The result is an album that for the most part is refined but organic, finished but unfinished, and perfect in its imperfections. It is complete and full in its simplicity, and free from the burdens of excess and overproduction. The beauty of this album is not merely what is immediately apparent, but also what the listener ultimately discovers, both in the work as well as in himself/herself during the experience. There is more than enough space in this album to encourage this kind of discovery.

Playing And Thinking Like A Band, Joined At The Hip, and The Kakoy Show

When I first heard the demos for this album, long before Peryodiko was even formed, I was captivated by Vin's songs. I cautioned him, however, that if he formed a band, he should make sure that it doesn't overpower the songs. When I first heard Peryodiko last year, I criticized their lack of cohesion and creativity. As individually talented as they were, I felt they had not formed a concept of what the band should be. In the year that followed, Butch Dans and Thirdline put them through a rigorous program of rehearsals and gigs. So by the time I heard them in late July, they had figured out not only how to play like a band, but how to think like a band.

As mentioned earlier, I first recorded all four of them simultaneously in the studio. This was opposed to the standard strategy in popular music of laying down a click track, then having each instrument play along with it on different sessions. With the exception of Vin, who like his brother Ebe is exceedingly self-effacing about his playing, Abe, Kakoy and Simon are first-call musicians. In live performance, the basic rhythm section is composed of Abe on drums, Simon on bass, and Vin on "continuous" rhythm guitar. Like the best drum-bass duos I've heard, Abe and Simon sound like they are joined at the hip. When I first heard Abe in Dong Abay's band, I felt he was very good, but unfinished. There were a few things about his playing that didn't sit well with me, like the way he addressed the snare drum. The same was true when I first heard him in Peryodiko last year. But he has taken a quantum leap since then, expanding his dynamic and timbral range. All my reservations have since evaporated. And to say I enjoy his playing now is a gross understatement. Simon is probably the most experienced member of the band, having played rock and pop in his youth, moving on to classical music and jazz, and now returning to rock with Peryodiko. I've actually played with him once, and he has such a comfortable pocket that not matter how far I strayed from the beat, he stayed rock steady. But that's not all. Simon is one of those rare bassists who can "lift" the music, despite inhabiting the bottom of an arrangement. I predicted that the "basics" recording would be more like classic jazz sessions. true enough, tempos were pushed, pulled, and nailed. Harmonies were deconstructed, reconstructed, and augmented. There were moments filled with sound, and others filled with space. And instruments would step forward, or recede into the background. All of this happened in "real-time" with all the members playing together. Its the most organic rock/pop recording I've heard in a long time.

Beyond the rhythm section, the usual strategy in recording popular music is to load the arrangements to the point of "fullness". The extreme example of this Phil Spector's "Wall Of Sound" approach that utilizes a battalion of parts. I too have used a similar approach. I coined the term "guitar squadron", referring to the use of up to four continuous rhythm guitar parts in some Eraserheads songs. But on Dong Abay's "Flipino", I went the other way and intentionally made use of less massive arrangements. Some have criticized this approach on that album, but I wanted a light, nimble sound to serve as backdrop to Dong's wonderful songs and rich voice. My strategy for Peryodiko was slightly similar to this. I found it quite remarkable how many bases the band covers live. So all the "basics" sessions essentially captured what the band does in any club date or concert. The main difference is that Peryodiko has Kakoy. In live performance, Kakoy alternates between three functions. At any given time in a piece, he will either augment Vin's rhythm parts, or play short riffs and/or counterpoint lines, or play solos. The "basics" sessions could have been left as is, and the arrangements would have been fine. At the start of the project, I made an unusual decision to record vocals immediately after the basics, and before any guitar overdubs. This reaffirmed my aim to not have anything step on the vocal melodies. But my gut feel was that Kakoy had magic in mind. I wasn't exactly sure what he thought of this process, so I was relieved when he responded positively. At the end of one "basics" session, I observed carefully when he laid down a tiny riff that subtly magnified something he had played earlier. I interpreted this to mean that, aside from solos, he understood that guitar overdubs were to be used mainly to focus or accentuate specific parts of an arrangement. That little event confirmed to me that we were on the same page in as far as how the arrangements should run. With the vocal sessions completed, I let Kakoy loose. This led to what I now call "The Kakoy Show".

8 October 2008 was scheduled exclusively for guitar overdubs. The day before, I texted him a list of all parts I wanted added to the songs. When he showed up in the studio, he came armed to the teeth with eight electric guitars, two acoustics, and one mandolin. I jokingly said that there were more guitars in the room than people. Kakoy proceeded to lay down a stunning array of tracks that alternately sang, soared, and screamed. I had been awake for some 24 straight hours by the time we packed up. But despite serious sleep deprivation, I missed only the last 15 minutes of this incredible session. The next day, we had what I call the "last chance session", which is designed to add the last remaining odds and ends. Vin was first up with a redo of one vocal track. I was pleasantly surprised (more like shocked) when he nailed it in one take, with only two spot punch-ins. This set the stage for the continuation of "The Kakoy Show". He first laid down a hilarious, almost atonal solo for "Piraso" using the oddest guitar he had, a beat-up "thing" that looked more at home in the hands of an impoverished blind street musician in Quiapo. He finally brought the house down with a long, sustained, but tuned feedback line for the ending of "Walang Kapalit".

I then called for a review of all the songs, in the album sequence. For the first time, the band could revel in the fruits of two months of hard work: great songs, organic playing, a solid cooking rhythm section, spectacular but tasteful guitar work, and arrangements that were full but never overloaded. High fives and handshakes were exchanged by everyone in the studio, which included Abe, Kakoy, Vin, Thirdline PA Wilmer, members of Shinji's band South Superhighway, and Johnny Alegre. But I cautioned everyone however that this was not the end. Shinji and I will take about a month to mix the songs.

There is still so much magic to do.

The Gift Of Music

One of the things I enjoy when meeting and working with artists is the exchange of works. Sometimes, people give me demos and recordings because they want my honest opinion. Vin's original demos for what became the songs for Peryodiko's first album was one of these. He recently reminded the band that I was so blown away by the songs that I never talked to him about the music, but instead went on a tirade about how stupid the music industry was by ignoring it. Since we hit the studio, Abe's wife Ria has also let me hear various stuff from their musician friends. Being the teacher that I am, I always take some time out to analyze the songs, and dispense my honest comments. These demos are the gems of my collection because it shows the songs in their rawest but purest form, devoid of sugar-coated distractions.

In other cases, I get CDs as gifts. Earlier this month, Simon gave me a copy of WDOUJI's second "indy" album entitled "Zen & The Art Of Dressmaking" The CD was never marketed commercially, so he has since just given it away to friends. My favorite cut from the album turns out to be one of his compositions, "A Distant Soil". A week later, Kakoy gave me a copy of "Salindiwa", a concept album in which he played guitar. The packaging was as stunning as the playing. Like Simon's CD, it was independently produced and was not widely marketed. In return, I gave everyone a copy of my "gift" album, "Makinao", which contains stuff I have put together in my computer since 1999.

I've heard many people, both music fans and musicians, say that the Philippine music landscape is boring and empty. But in my mind, this negative opinion is based only on what the mainstream music industry chooses to release commercially. If my little music collection of demos, unmarketed albums, assorted odds and ends, and musical gifts are any indication, then music is alive and well in the country. Its how I got hooked on Vin's songs. And I think its not hard to imagine that there is more out there.

Listening

The first phase of recording is to get down the "basic" tracks. In most cases, this means laying down each instrument separately. But with Peryodiko, we opted to have the band play "live", meaning all instruments together at once. This is only possible if the individual players are really really good, and the band is really really tight. There are a few bands that are good enough to dare do this, such as Bamboo. The only things that will be overdubbed later are the final vocals, and some solo guitar overdubs. We do several "takes" of each song, then select the best take(s) on which we will build the completed recording. After at least two "good" takes are achieved, I let the band hear all of them, then do some small "punch-ins" only if it is absolutely necessary. There is very little that separates the various takes, and some might not be able to tell if there is any difference at all. The evaluation of, and selection of which take to bring forward is a critical activity. And one of the fundamental skills needed to pull this off is listening.

This brings to mind Barry Truax's theory on the "three levels of listening attention." In my PhD dissertation draft, I wrote: "Truax defines hearing as “a sensitivity to the physical vibrations within certain ranges for frequencies and intensities … this extends to the threshold of hearing which is the slightest level that excites the auditory system, to the threshold of pain, which is the intensity level that causes acute discomfort”. Hearing is described as a passive activity that happens with or without consciousness. On the other hand, listening is an active process that requires specific types of attention to what one is hearing. Truax mentions three types of listening. The first is “listening in search”, in which the listener is searching for patterns of familiar or redundant sounds. The second is “listening in readiness”, in which a listener can, by either natural abilities or environmental control, separate a desired signal from any competing sounds. The third involves “feedback”, in which a person simultaneously hears sounds created by his/her body, as well as how his/her sound interacts with the environment. Truax contends that listening, specially the first two modes, require skill and constant practice."

The tricky part of this phase of recording is that while one is engaged in these three modes of listening, countless decisions have to be made as the music is unfolding. Are all the intruments in tune? Is everyone settled in to the rhythmic groove? Are all the harmonies in place? Is each note articulated properly? Is the band tight? Are the musicians confortable, happy, lazy, irritated, frustrated, impatient, or tired? Are all the recording devices set up and working properly? Are the monitors and headphones balanced? A producer must be sensitive to these, and be able to identify them when things are going either wrong or right. It takes considerable skill, practice, and experience to concentrate simultaneously on all these individual issues while the recording is in motion. It takes even more to zoom out and evaluate the context of what is going on. In the end, one needs the commitment to stick with your decisions. One of my favorite engineers, Angee Rosul, can't stand producers whose wishy-washiness or obsessive-compulsions prevent them from being decisive. Thank God he said I'm not one of them. I myself would be real frustrated as an engineer or musician if my producer couldn't make up his/her mind in the heat of a performance.

In my opinion, good decisions can only be made if one is listening correctly. My favorite teachers are those who not only read my work thoroughly, and whose critique is insightful and devoid of grandstanding or sophist masturbation. I suspect that the people who choose me to work with them, do so because they know I make a real effort to listen to everything that is going on.

Finally!

Finally !

It all started while I was recording Sugarfree's third album in mid-2006. In one visit to hook up with his brother Ebe, Vin asked if I could comment on a bunch of songs he had written. I gave him my standard instructions for making demos (just guitar and vocals, please), and sent him on his way. Ebe, Buddy Zabala, and Raimund Marasigan warned me that I would be more than pleased with what Vin had been up to, so I eagerly anticipated the submission. I'm not sure of the date anymore, but Vin eventually delivered a CD filled with wonderful songs later that year. I liked them so much that I suggested he record them as simply as possible, the only addition being another guitar player. This appproach was based on the fact that Vin had already been rejected by a couple of record companies, and had little money for studio expenses. But Raimund had already heard the songs, and their approach was very different. Raimund advised Vin to put together a band. He reasoned that Vin is a great front man, and a band would propel the songs better than a guitar duo. I told him that whatever he decided, he should make sure the band would not overpower the songs.

I'm glad Vin followed Raimund's advice. The next time I saw Vin was at 70's Bistro with his "new" band in early '07. While the sound and performing conditions were not ideal that night, I knew the band was terrific. Kakoy, Simon and Abe are sensitive virtuosos who don't hit you over the head just to prove their musicianship. Its just what Raimund and I lobbied for in our own divergent ways. I just made a few comments on instrumental balances, and again sent them on their way. 

In the middle of that year, Vin asked me to attend a recording session at Shinji's Tanaka's Sound Creation studio. Vin had put together enough money for one session, and wanted to record three songs for possible airplay. The session was magical. Buddy summed it up perfectly, saying "ang sarap talaga ng magagaling." Two of the three songs eventually made their way to radio airplay. 

Later that year, Vin asked me to attend another round of recordings. But when I asked him if he had the funds to pull it off, he couldn't give me a straight answer. He still didn't have a record deal, or even a manager. So I advised him to put things on hold until funds were in place, because I don't like incurring debts in a studio. This sent me into a phase of intense frustration. I was angry at the recording industry at large for failing to pick up on the great music, and an equally stellar band. It was so unfair, and I felt powerless to help them. I could only pray the this wouldn't last forever. 

Then in April of this year, Vin called me and said Thirdline had agreed to manage the band. I like Thirdline's laid back, but thoroughly detailed style of management.  So I was very happy that the band would be in good hands. Thirdline focused on their live performance skills, gave them more rehearsal time, and booked more gigs. A month ago, Butch told me he wanted to start recording, with or without a record deal, because he felt they were ready. Dates were made, final rehearsals were held, and musical arrangements were fine tuned. 

It's been a long road since I heard Vin's demos in 2006. But in hindsight, it has been worth it. Recording starts tonight. 

Finally!