dilemmas of a producer-observer

the term producer refers to a number of different roles in the music business. one meaning of producer --and a particularly jamaican one--is simply the guy (and it is pretty much always a guy) who pays the musicians and the studio engineers (usually a nominal sum) for their work and then owns the recording. in the early days of the jamaican recording industry, this was apparently the most common meaning of the term. there were a few major producers who owned studios, had access to distribution channels, and were widely vilified for their practice of undervaluing musician's efforts and keeping all the profits (see the portrayal in the harder they come, for instance). another meaning of producer, however, refers to a person a bit closer to the music. acclaimed reggae producers such as lee "scratch" perry and king tubby became masters at the mixing board. using their sharp ears, sense of taste or style, and deft knob-turning fingers, producers such as these leave a strong mark on every recording they make, whether or not they contribute in more traditionally musical terms (e.g., playing an instrument or providing vocals). often this type of producer also plays the role of engineer--the studio-hand responsible for recording vocals and instruments at the right levels, and producing various effects, among other crucial duties. yet another meaning of producer has surfaced with hip-hop, dancehall, and other forms of electronic music. this type of producer, by using an array of drum-machines, synthesizers, computers, and traditional instruments, actually creates the musical tracks over which vocalists perform. interestingly enough, producers are rarely granted the status of "musician" by those who are formally trained in the real-time manipulation of traditional instruments. i met a guitarist in kingston just yesterday who espoused this point of view, which was not surprising, considering how much he has invested in privileging the kind of skills that he has developed.

when i refer to myself as a producer, i include various roles. usually, since i am an independent and unpaid musician, i am the creator of the music, the engineer of the vocals/instruments, and the one responsible for the final mix--making sure the levels are correct for all the tracks, removing or "fixing" mistakes, and generally listening to all the parameters of the song (timbral, textural, harmonic/melodic, rhythmic, etc.) in an effort to present the most compelling product possible. as all of these responsibilities might suggest, being a producer is difficult work. and let's not forget that performers' feelings are constantly involved in the process. one must mediate between one's own musical ideas and those of the artist whose vision one attempts to realize, and one must criticize and cajole gently. i frequently experience tension between my own idiosyncratic sense of taste and various perfomers' predilections, my own standards of production (which i have shaped through close observation of those producers who i most admire) and what others are happy with. add the role of participant-observer, and the problems multiply. even when caught in the throes of creative activity and in-the-moment collaboration, i am always doing research, reflecting on my experiences and observing the proceedings, especially when music is so explicitly involved. working with other musicians in this manner is rich experience. i learn a lot about how other people hear music, how they approach performance, how they situate themselves vis-a-vis various styles and traditions. i always come back, however, to a fundamental dilemma: to what extent should i assert my sense of taste and my responsibility as a producer to create the most compelling product i can, and to what extent should i simply facilitate and enable, sit back and observe, and take it all in? if i focus on facilitating and observing do i compromise my craft and reputation? since i inevitably enjoy the experience more when i am invested in it as a project i am passionate about, is it worth the moments of observation and generosity to no longer enjoy the experience? constantly considering such quandaries, i slip back and forth between roles. they overlap and inform each other.

i had occasion recently to confront this familiar dilemma once again. on friday night dami d came over to voice a song we've been working on for the past week (to voice is jamaican studio parlance for recording one's vocals over a riddim/rhythm). our latest project is an r&b tune--a relatively new genre for me as a producer. dami had composed the melody and lyrics some time ago, and a keyboardist was supposed to join us to play some chords and melodies against my programmed drums. he never showed. while we waited, i listened to dami's melody, built a southern-bounce-ish r&b drum loop at the correct tempo, and then added a bassline outlining the harmonies his singing implied. we continued to wait, and dami called for more orchestration. so i found some strings to match the harmonic contour, and slowly added other voices to the arrangement, including a marimba, a spacy-sound-effect, and some swelling strings. here's the rhythm, sans vocals.

while voicing the tune, i was rarely happy with any single take, feeling like it could be done with fewer "mistakes." dami indeed had a melody in mind, but he would depart from it rather freely, sliding from note to note in an improvisatory exploration of possible harmonies. thanks to the blue note factor, i presume, dami embraced what i found to be jarring dissonances as expressive and certainly not "incorrect." dami and i share much aesthetic common ground, but on this issue we differed clearly and considerably. dami rarely seemed to hear his singing in the same way that i did. i pointed out notes that were clearly in opposition to the same sweet harmonies that he liked so much, and he had no problem with them. this was interesting to me from a musicological standpoint, but annoying from a producer's eye (ear?). moreover, dami likes to back his voice up (i.e., to record multiple takes) in order to create a fuller, richer sound. he likes the sound of such polyphony, thinks it's different ("not na normal ting") and that people will want to listen to all of the voices, granting them special attention precisely because of their number and, by one definition, their complexity. i am ambivalent about the technique. with so many vocal lines coming together--each with its own idiosyncratic turns and leaps--the amount of dissonance (harmonic and rhythmic) increases to the point of obscuring not only the melody but the actual words of the song. i myself made the mistake of using the "back-up" technique on waste management, the third wayne&wax album and the first to feature my own vocals. the results are not so great (though, i should admit, i also knew much less about recording voices and had inferior technology). i employed the technique because i was unable to record my voice at an adequate level (due to technological and performance issues), and simultaneous, multiple takes created more a fuller sound--and covered up little mistakes. in the end, though, the technique tended to muddy things up more than enrich them. listen, for example, to the stark difference between the version of "safari honeymoon nightmare" on waste management and the same track, rerecorded a year later for no substitute. the results speak for themselves. [note that i also improved the backing track, which is an altogether different production issue.]

nevertheless, not wanting to impose my ideas too strongly, i yielded to dami's preferences and recorded as many tracks as the program would let me (25 in all). by the end of the night, i thought the track certainly had a strong melody somewhere in it, supported by nice harmonies, but that it would take some sorting through. i had some difficulty even continuing toward the end because the work felt futile considering how much i would have to take out. at the same time, i realized that dami was truly enjoying the experience and was thus far happy with the product. i decided not to be a jerk and simply to work as a facilitator, or at least an encouraging critic. still, it is striking how much we seemed to differ in our feelings about the track at the end of the night. i felt discouraged by the daunting task the mix-down would be, while dami thanked me deeply for helping him to realize his "dream track." this is no doubt a reward in itself, but i realized, oddly enough, that it's not satisfactory for me. i want to be able to love the track (too), to be proud of it, stand behind it, and confidently, genuinely recommend it.

it remains remarkable to me how differently we hear the song. the next day, dami told me a story that surprised me (and challenged me to recognize my own relative, and possibly "wrong," point of view). i had given dami an unmixed version of the song on a cd for him to take home to listen to. i had advised dami the week before--when i gave him a cd with another song roughly mixed on it--not to let these less-than-final mixes get out of his hands or widely heard, as we would not want a less-than-best effort to circulate and possibly forestall interest. i felt like the song was a mess, but dami was happy enough with it that he took it to a party and had them play it. according to him, the people loved it. i wasn't there unfortunately, so i don't know the complete circumtances around the reception of the song. i almost don't believe it. even if it is true, i remain convinced that it can sound much better with fewer, stronger vocal tracks. i still plan to edit the hell out of it, remove as much dissonance (as interpreted in my own idiosyncratic, open-minded, but well-conditioned way) as i can from it, and give it as strong a sense of line as i can. i realize i might sound a bit stodgy here, if not offensive in asserting so strongly my admittedly subjective determinations. some readers, especially those who don't know me, might think me a bit presumptuous, if not "square," "white," or some other term for someone who doesn't get it. at least a bit "old school," perhaps, in my apparent devotion to some rigid, outdated, eurocentric sense of harmony. this is far from the case. trust me: i get it. moreover, i love dissonance. i love messy polyphony. i love crazy, out-there shit. i love blue notes, microtones, and other kinds of funk. but i am also sensitive to genre and to the subtle but profound differences that make some recordings sound "amateurish" and others "professional" (as loaded and arbitrarily-imposed as such terms may be, they do serve as linguistic shorthand for palpable qualities). i am not talking about anything sounding "good" or "bad" in absolute terms. dami likes what he likes. i simply happen to think that he and many others would like my vision better. you can decide for yourself. my dream mix remains to be done (i think it will require re-recording). here is the version of "never let go" which dami liked enough to play at a party. and here is the latest mix-down of it i have made. i attempted to remove or reduce most of the dissonant syllables, which results in some missing moments (thus the need for re-recording). bear in mind that both of these versions are works-in-progress. i present them here for illustrative purposes.

in the end i have to ask myself whether i am satisfied enough to let a track like this to go public with my name on it. lest i come across as too negative, too perfectionist, too arrogant, or too down on dami (i certainly am not), let me share the other song we collaborated on recently, which i am rather satisfied and happy with. "big them up" is a track that features dami d alongside a dj named wasp. dami sings on the choruses, and wasp raps during the verses. i like wasp's style. although he is clearly steeped in dancehall, he moves between hip-hop and dancehall styles subtly and consistently. (he asked me for a blank cd before he left. at first i thought he wanted me to burn him a copy of a rough mix. turns out he just wanted to burn a friend's copy of the latest jay-z cd.) the song is funny, if a bit topical and a tad, er, objectifying. "big them up" translates to "praise them," so the song is fundamentally one of affirmation. of course, the songs mostly affirms women's physical characteristics. but, shit: it's pop music and its dancehall. what can you expect? another defense might be that this kind of objectification has a different meaning in jamaica. cat-calling seems to be a more common phenomenon here, not at all limited to construction workers and pahk depahtment cronies. it happens to becca all the time--even more frequently than to the average young jamaican woman, i would say, since she stands out so much. the other day, while we were driving to clarendon, someone on the side of the road spotted becca in the backseat and yelled, "white sugar!" "granulated sugar!"--which was a pretty funny one. another time, while the two of us were walking down knutsford boulevard, a man guarding an armored car, shotgun drawn, began hissing at her and calling her "sexy lady." i was rather surprised that someone in his position would abuse his power so rudely in public. in my aggravation, i felt the need to respond somehow, so i shot back something like "what? gunman can talk, huh?" sometimes, to the comment, "i like your wife," i say "thanks" with a similarly aggravated tone. to rastas, i reply, "one love." maybe it's just my hang-up for thinking too much of an everyday, possibly innocuous act? a jamaican friend told me that he thinks people take it too seriously on both ends. women (or their partners) take offense when they shouldn't, and guys get creepy way too fast. wasp never gets creepy in this song. he keeps the tone humorous and positive. and you gotta love that roots-reggae-inspired dancehall riddim, completed by my favorite pair of bean-pod shakers.

finally, to present a bit more balance in terms of my production efforts, kindly consider a few more recent tracks. check out "hunger" and "war" which i produced for kabir, a cambridge-based mc, this january. (i should note that i experienced the same dilemmas while working with a very different artist in rather different circumstances.) i think the vocals are especially strong on "hunger," which has a lot more to do with kabir's great voice than my knob-turning. prior to my work with kabir, my only production experience is with my own songs. so to conclude, i offer up my first venture into r&b, "flower-petal plucking," in order to demonstrate that i too am capable of (being interpreted as?) singing out-of-key.