This article appears in our November/December 2015 issue, now available on newsstands.
Videos by American Songwriter
When American Songwriter asked me to write an article on my approach to working with singer-songwriters in the studio, I thought back to some of the mistakes I’ve made in the past ten years. All the moments where we challenged ourselves in the studio and lost. From those lessons and failures, I’ve learned how to create something new.
Every project is a chance to dive into the unknown — with the artist and their songs, but also with myself and the production process. If we go into a record knowing how everything is supposed to sound, we are probably making something that already exists. Singer-songwriters usually write on piano or acoustic guitar. In the studio, I sometimes like to take that option away from them, at least in the beginning. I think it gives everyone in the room an opportunity to create a new hook or melody or moment. Amazing things happen when you start experimenting.
My number-one priority is to help a songwriter present the best and most original version of their self in song. It’s a challenge to not sound like your influences, and sometimes it’s a life-long challenge. Which exactly what most record labels want their artists to be … something they know they can sell, something familiar. Few things will deflate an artist’s move toward originality more than an A&R person trying to keep their job. Often, the artist will leave the studio excited that the label is excited, but then wonders why no one cares about their record six months later. That’s why every time a ground-breaking act gets dropped, the label says, “We didn’t know what to do with them.” Which actually means, “We haven’t seen something like that make money and that scares us.” In the label’s defense, taking a chance with the unknown is terrifying, but investment in the unknown has produced every great artist and band of all time. Period.
In my opinion, when you start to produce a singer-songwriter album, it’s all about songs. Everything hinges on the quality of what the artist has been writing. Really great songs are almost impossible to make marginal. Marginal songs are almost impossible to make really great. Almost being the operative word, because I’ve definitely seen both happen.
Take Rayland Baxter. Rayland is an effortless songwriter and the tunes he brought in for his new record Imaginary Man were magical. His songs convey a deep compassion for people, and if you know him, you know it’s a genuine sentiment. Adam Landry and I wanted to take those beautiful acoustic guitar-based songs and help them become something different, something Rayland. “Mr. Rodriguez” is a good example. When we didn’t start the process with acoustic guitar driving the production, it allowed Chip Kilpatrick (drums) and Eli Beard (bass) to come up with this totally new groove. Changing the feel caused Ray to sing it a bit differently, and that’s where we started from. We all pushed ourselves to start somewhere different like that on every song.
Andrew Combs is another brilliant songwriter I’ve had the pleasure of working with. I think Andrew can give anyone a run for their money lyrically. Every song he brought in for All These Dreams introduced a complete character. All These Dreams, however, involved a different approach than Rayland’s album. Skylar Wilson and Jordan Lehning worked and rehearsed with the band for a full week right before the record started. They had this classic vision for the sound that really payed off. The band was Steelism with Ian Fitchuk on drums. I’ve never worked with a tighter outfit in the studio. When the band is that good, and they understand their own dynamics so well, it lets us stretch in other ways.
And I have to talk about Robert Ellis. Robert is a monster songwriter, and one of the best acoustic guitar players I’ve ever heard. His record, The Lights From The Chemical Plant, was a great example of just setting up microphones, dialing in a sound, and getting the fuck out of the way. I’d sit and listen to him sing about the darkest sides of people and wonder, “Did he actually write this song about me?”. It was also truly humbling to collaborate with producer Jacquire King on that record. Getting to push boundaries and discover new things with a friend and mentor was one of the major highlights of that experience.
At the end of the day, my job is to get outside of my ego and create the best environment for making something new. And that has everything to do with who I surround myself with in the studio. For me, its people like Jordan, Frank Liddell, Jacquire, Adam Landry, Skylar, Luke Reynolds, Ian and Eli. I learn something new every time I’m in the room with these guys, probably because they are all a lot smarter than me. They’re the best arrangers, players, and producers I know. I’m often more interested in their ideas than my own, and maybe they’d say the same about me.
Overall, it’s never about projecting what I want onto the artist. The best records are rarely made by a producer telling everyone what to play and how to sound. I’m just trying to get to the core of how they want to be remembered.
Eric Masse is the owner, producer and engineer behind East Nashville recording studio The Casino.
Leave a Reply
Only members can comment. Become a member. Already a member? Log in.