Bottom-End, Writings and Reviews from Music Producer Pete Strobl

“Hello, my name is Pete and I’m a guitar-a-holic.” Every time I get my hands on a beautiful guitar or bass I imagine myself saying those words as I introduce myself to a roomful of like-minded addicts in some sort of twelve-step program for gear junkies. My addiction goes back to about age 3 or 4. My dad had a Sears Silvertone acoustic guitar and I thought it was the most beautiful thing ever made by the hand of man. And when the guitar was put away, I would stretch rubber bands across a cigar box and pretend that I was making music. And from that time to this very moment, I have led the life of a sex-addict working as an oil boy on a photo shoot for sunscreen products. For most of my life, I have been surrounded by beautiful instruments.

During my years at Shangri La, I had the opportunity to have some of the finest instruments in my hands on a daily basis. The studio owner had very wisely invested in a marvelous collection of vintage guitars and basses and I looked at that collection as my personal Golden Gate Bridge. Because the bridge is so massive, it is under constant maintenance. As soon as the crews finish repainting at one end, they go back and start all over again. Every one of those instruments was in perfect working order because a part of everyday was devoted to cleaning, restringing, intonating and making minor repairs. Every day was an orgy.

I learned a great deal about vintage instruments…how to date them accurately, the desirability factor of various makes, models and years…all the usual bullshit that fills the air at vintage guitar shows. But the most important thing I learned is that there are great guitars that can be had for the price of a good flight case…and there are priceless guitars that can be real dogs. A vintage guitar can be worth a boatload of cash to a collector, but that doesn’t necessarily make it a great musical instrument. The guitars I’m going to concentrate on here are solid body electrics. Jazz guitars, flat top acoustics and semi-hollow body guitars are an entirely different matter.

As a player, I don’t get overly excited about words like “dead mint”, “ten out of ten” or “complete with original hang tags.” Great guitars have usually been played…a lot. I’ve handled some guitars of museum quality that were dogs the day they came out of the factory. There is a mythical reverence for the hand work that went into the construction of Fender guitars and basses of the 50’s. The fact is that those instruments were built to be affordable. Anything done by hand was done so because machines were either too expensive or had yet to be developed. One characteristic of hand work that escapes logical consideration is the variable level of quality control. The Fender factory of the 50’s shouldn’t be equated with a one-off boutique lutherie. These guitars were not hand carved by master craftsmen, they were assembled from pre-fabricated parts. And every once in a while, the perfect neck would find the perfect body and a fantastic guitar would be born. Many times those few great guitars would end up in the hands of great players.

This was In the days before musicians found it impossible to play a show without ten guitars on stage. Guitars and cases were thrown into car trunks, pick-up trucks and luggage bins with little regard for the cosmetically-obsessed collector of the future. There are plenty of stories of the “Holy Grail” being found tucked under a bed for 30 years in its original case complete with tags. Some of those guitars might turn out to be really great instruments. But maybe they were tossed under the bed because they didn’t sound good or played like shit. The sad fact is that once those guitars are found, they rarely get the chance to prove themselves because the inflated price of “dead mint” vintage guitars almost insures that they will end up as trophies hanging some doctor’s or lawyer’s wall.

Yes, vintage guitars are wonderful artifacts of a magical era in pop music. But when it comes to solid body guitars built on an assembly line, it isn’t unusual to play ten vintage beauties before finding an instrument that is everything it should be. The fact is that there are only so many old guitars. They don’t build ‘54 Strats anymore. I’ve played four 1954 Stratocasters. Two were dogs, one was pretty nice and one was an exceptional guitar. Hint, the winner did not have the original tags. I’ve also been intimate with a half-dozen “Black-guard” Telecasters ranging from unbelievably mint to something that looked like it was dragged behind a tractor from gig to gig. The mint ones were stiff and unresponsive, which is probably why they were still mint. The old beater was probably one of the three best guitars I’ve ever played.

Because there are so few old guitars left, guitar manufacturers are now marketing replicas of some of the more desirable models at what I consider absurd prices. I actually bought a masterbuilt ‘54 Stratocaster myself. But I had to look through fourteen of them before I found one that was exceptional. Yes, they’re pretty, but what makes them worth the price? They’re still made out of wood and have a bit of hardware screwed on. If the “way they used to make ‘em” is so special, why don’t they make ‘em like that now? well, I got news, They do. And I think that the standards of today’s assembly line built instruments are far superior to what was being done in the “old days.” The Fender “Hwy 1″ guitars and basses are much better that the shit they were cranking out in the 70’s…at a fraction of the cost. ( I just checked E-bay…there is an early 70’s precision bass listed at $2900.00! Insane)

The bottom line is that I don’t get too excited about ultra clean vintage instruments anymore. I say let the collectors shell out the bucks and hang them on their walls. There is no shortage of great playing, great sounding guitars out there. Go to a guitar shop, put on a blindfold and play twenty or thirty guitars. You might surprise yourself.

During the years that I was associated with Shangri La Studio, the studio owner very wisely invested in vintage microphones. Working with engineers like Jim Nipar, Chuck Ainlay, Ethan Johns, John Porter and John Hanlon, among others, was my education in the subtle nuances intrinsic to the various makes and models of vintage microphones available at the studio.

Every engineer has preferences as to how best to mic a guitar amp, which is the best vocal mic or which array will best capture the colors of a drum set. The single factor common to every great engineer, however, comes down to one word…EARS. Every engineer seemed to have a formula for quickly getting a sound up on the mixing desk. And although every engineer has a “secret weapon” or signature approach to mic strategy, engineers are always ready to try new approaches and different gear in their quest for the ultimate acoustic guitar tone or magic snare drum.

I remember setting up drum mics for a noted engineer and while we plugged in a pair of Sony C37a mics as overheads, I mentioned that “So and so” had just done a session and had preferred a pair of C-12s. After hearing about how “So and so” didn’t know shit about how to mic up a drumset, we put up a pair of C12s and made comparisons. Engineers can be stubborn, defensive and secretive of their methods, But they are also open-minded enough to listen and appropriate more effective methods.

One of my favorite engineer/producers has a much more open approach. Sammy (not his real name) has been making great records for over thirty years, and he reminds me of the magician you may have read about in a previous blog. Sammy had no secrets. He would tell you every trick in the book, how it worked, and how really simple it all was. And Sammy hipped me to a piece of kit that should be in every recording environment, from major studio right down to the most humble home writing rig…the venerable and extremely affordable Shure SM7 microphone.

Sammy came to Shangri La to produce a record that would ultimately be nominated for a Grammy so I was eager to learn from him. When I asked him about mic preferences he answered that the fine collection at the studio would suit his needs adequately and that he would be bringing his Shure SM7 “just in case.” We had C12s, M49s,M50s, U47s, U67s, 251s…anything an engineer could want, anything but a Shure SM7.

In talking to Sammy in the off moments, I would ask an occasional question…like “What would you use on an acoustic guitar?” or “What do you like for a vocal mic?” and in almost every case, he would answer with two or three options but would always end with “But an SM7 would work just fine.” During the course of the sessions I set up the SM7 on guitar amps, bass amps, Leslie rotating speakers, drums, acoustic guitars, pianos and to my surprise, the SM7 had the inside track when it came to recording the lead vocals.

I’ve recently set up a small writing/recording environment in my home. I record on an iMac using Cubase4 and the mic locker at Shangri La is a distant memory. When deciding on which microphone would best suit my needs, I researched all the usual suspects from the new affordable condensers to the USB models that would eliminate the need for expensive mic preamps. By chance, I had Sammy on the phone one day and asked his advice. “What’s wrong with you…get an SM7 and leave me alone!” were his words of encouragement.

This microphone is the best $250.00 I have spent on gear…ever. There are just no issues with it. I can’t remember cutting a track that didn’t work. It does exactly what it is meant to do and does it without offering an opinion or whining. The perfect partner in crime. I have used it through a really good mic-pre and have also plugged it directly into a Pre-sonus firewire interface with equally impressive results. And without getting into the technical minutia, I can say that the most important question…”How does it sound?” has been answered in a positive way every time.

It seems that everyone has a studio at home now. The industry catalogues are rammed full of the latest in technical breakthroughs that will allow the home-recordist an opportunity to realize the creation of a masterpiece. You can buy lots of shiny crap for $250.00, or you can invest in the real thing.

As so many producers and engineers have said, a recording can only be as good as what goes into the mic. So go practice, get really good…and put it through an SM7.

Well, I’ve been playing around with this Line6 Podxt for a bit and I have to say that the fun factor is looming large. I really love the sound of a good guitar and great amp so most of my tweaking has been in the way of pretending that the Pod is what the display says it is, and tweaking the knobs accordingly. Consequently, I have a few thoughts.

First off, there isn’t a piece of gear that will make a crap guitar sound like Jimi Hendrix. And sadly, there are plenty of young players with crap guitars out there who are misleading themselves into thinking that the Pod, or something like it, will turn their crap guitar into something that it is not. Given the choice between spending my dollar on a Pod or a decent guitar, I would start with the guitar. I’m playing an Mark Knopfler signature Strat,, a masterbuilt ‘54 Strat and a Gibson ES 135 with killer pick-ups. For bass I usually play old Fenders. I know that what I’m putting into the Podxt is the right shit, so If the result is crap, I would know where the fault would be.

Attempting to compare the Podxt head to head with a vintage amp is Fruitless and doesn’t serve any purpose that I can think of. The first thing that comes to mind is that if you have a vintage Vox AC30 to compare it with, throw the fucking Pod in the corner and rock the AC30 for chrissakes! No, the pod can’t compare with the dynamic tactile sensation of standing face to face with a vintage half-stack or a pair of well-oiled SVT cabinets. But that isn’t really the point, is it.

There is a huge difference between playing a gig that requires the pantleg-flapping, intense volume and sound pressure of a pair of Acoustic 360 bass rigs on the one hand, and a session where an accurate bass sound that sinks right down into the mix is what is needed. The first can be physically exciting although sonically inaccurate. The value is a matter of the moment. The second has to be right…forever. What the Podxt does for me is put a sound into my computer that gets pretty damned close to what an amp and a mic in a room would deliver to a recording console. It is, after all, a simulator.

But now, back to the fun factor. I have been very lucky. I have had my hands on a shit-load of great amps…and I mean GREAT amps. I know how they work and I know how to turn a knob ever so slightly to make a good Tweed Bassman sound amazing. I know that a Blackface Deluxe sounds different on the floor than it does on a chair. And I know that no two Vox AC 30s sound exactly alike although I have yet to hear one I didn’t like. I love to tweak amp knobs to get that extra little magic.

And thats what I dig about the Podxt. If you know the amp that is being modeled, you can really have some fun. The Pod actually reacts to very subtle knob movements much like the amps we all worship. It also responds surprisingly well in two other areas that are difficult for many younger players to grasp. Many players step on some kind of pedal to play a solo without ever taking advantage of the controls on the guitar. I like to dial in a nice, aggressive sound and then roll back the guitar volume to clean up the sound. It just sounds more naturally dynamic and I think the guitar sounds better when you let it do some of the work.

The other thing that the Podxt does quite well for a simulator is respond to playing dynamics. A great amp will allow you to caress a gentle part and then jump on a chunky rhythm riff without any knob twisting. The Pod does a pretty good job of simulating these player controlled dynamics.

I’m having fun with this thing. It’s different, that’s for sure. But in a small room with a Mac and NHT powered monitors, getting a guitar sound could be a whole lot worse. Now if they could just make it smell like a ‘65 Twin…yeah, YOU know what I’m talking about.

Let me just start by saying that I couldn’t win a medal in the Special Olympics of Digital Recording. I’ve been an analog dog for my entire musical life. My experience with trouble-shooting has always consisted of following cables, shaking non-responsive units, tapping, hitting or throwing, re-seating connections and as a last resort, drinking huge amounts of coffee while a qualified tech fixes the combination of original and “Pete-induced” issues. I find the virtual world of technology daunting to say the very least.

Having recently begun to set up a home studio recording environment, I have inundated myself in literature, reviews and manuals concerning all aspects of hardware and software. I’ve found that trying to keep up with the incredible rate of updates can easily rob me of valuable creative time, so my efforts have been to research and make hardware decisions based primarily on two factors. First, How does a piece of gear SOUND?, and second, Will an Idiot like me be able to figure it out?

I have been fighting tooth and nail with a usb audio interface that shall remain nameless. For some reason, input/output assignments were difficult and the bus assignments just wouldn’t line up the same way twice. I’m more that willing to concede that the technical issues rested squarely on my inept shoulders. But as to the sound quality, I was not happy. Therefore my criteria had not been met. It sounded bad, and an Idiot like me was not able to figure it out. What to do? I started by putting it back in the box. The second step will involve a Craig’s list posting.

I work on a 24″ intel iMac which has 3 usb ports. With one port for the computer keyboard, one for the Cubase key and one for a Radium keyboard, using a usb interface required plugging and unplugging usb wires. Using hubs and bluetooth devices had proven less than satisfactory in my experience at Shangri La, so I decided to try a firewire interface. What I wanted was a box with holes in it that I could stick wires into so the signal would get to where it belonged. I was looking for a knobless, idiot-proof piece that would get plugged in, put on the desk and do it’s job without tapping me on the shoulder every five minutes with stupid questions like, “Where do you want me to send this guitar part?”

I found my solution in the PreSonus Inspire GT. This little baby is a five-and-a-half inch square with holes in it that fit the right wires. There are no knobs. I’m used to turning knobs on real gear and have always thought that the knobs on most home-recording devices felt like repairs waiting to happen so this feature of the Inspire GT was welcome by virtue of its absence. The simplicity of the physical design is very similar to the Mac Mini in that there is nothing outside the box that can get you into trouble.

The installation happened so effortlessly and was completed so quickly that I really don’t remember what I did, if anything. Re-reading the manual, you simply connect to the computer via firewire, insert the driver cd, drag the icon to the hard drive, click, and the bugger shows up on the screen and ready for business! A quick look through the audio preference pane on the iMac showed that the Inspire GT had already checked in to the computer. Cubase set-up was equally as idiot proof.

I plugged the audio output of the Podxt into the Inspire GT, and after a few level tweaks, I was recording. Just as simple as that. My second requirement for gear had been met with flying colors…Yes, an idiot like me could figure it out.

As to my first requirement, how does it sound, I can only say this. Once I started to record, I never gave it another thought. I’m in the process of learning my recording/sequencing software and have enough to think about. With the other box, I found myself constantly distracted with sound issues. After working for about two hours, I realized that I hadn’t thought about anything but the task at hand. The guitar sounded like a guitar and that was simply it. The Inspire GT took care of getting the guitar to the recorder and the sound to my powered speakers. I was free to get confused about all the other things that tend to confuse me, chief among them, why couldn’t I hear my fucking click track?!

But that safari is for another day. In the meantime, I love this box. It has really cut down on my shoe-throwing.

Ah, another day spent trying to install Cubase 4 into my iMac…FUCK!!

I should add that I’m a total friggin’ ineptasaurus as far as computer recording goes. The good news is that I figured it out and all’s well at Studio Pete…for now. But if this were twenty years ago, the only sound my computer would be making right now would be crunching noises as the cars going by my building run over the chunks I hurled through the window.

My journey toward techno-enlightenment started less than three years ago when Guy Fletcher convinced me that the Mac was superior to a PC. I had someone show me how to turn it on and proceeded to bluff my way through the learning process over the course of time. To make a long story short, I’m all over it now…to a point.

I recently decided that I would like to do some writing and recording at home so I invested in a 24″ iMac and bought Cubase 4 which is a highly regarded sequencing and recording software program from Steinberg. I installed it without a hitch (I thought) and curled up with the tutorials. To get audio to the computer I used an M-audio Fast-track usb interface. I followed all of the instructions and set up my vst devices, made the appropriate buses, opened a new project in cubase, added an audio track, pushed record and…nothing, nada, nix.

The meter on the transport window was seeing the guitar signal but I couldn’t hear it. Double checked my buses, inputs etc. Everything looked correct. Wait a minute! This is a new Intel Mac. Maybe the M-Audio driver wouldn’t work with the mac. So I went to the M-audio website and learned that the unit should work with all OSX machines. There was a driver update but was only required to run Protools. Fuck it, I updated the driver anyway and voila! Now I could see and hear the signal. But I still wasn’t getting the audio to the recording channel. Man, In the old days, you just started following cables til the problem presented itself. I had visions of the crew from “Fantastic Voyage” cruising through the routing system on my hard drive and searching out the problem on a molecular level. That not being an option, I had to think…and throw something relatively inexpensive across the room. Shoes are good as long as I don’t hit anything…I wear 15s.

I decided that there had to be an issue with Cubase so I went to the Steinberg website. Nothing there but circles and I went around all of them. I did find an update to Cubase 4.0.some fucking shit so I downloaded it and installed it. When I chose my hard drive as the destination, I got the message that the was “no previous installation”…the shoe just missed the lamp. I closed everything, restarted and by a fluke, hit “apple i” as I clicked the application. Hmmm, I opened the ownership pane and for some reason, the “read and write” button wasn’t active and there was no owner. I clicked on the owner button and a drop down menu displayed a list of weird names, none of which was mine. At the bottom, was the word “other.” I clicked it and another menu displayed a longer list of coded names. Halfway down the list, there it was! The user name that I registered the product under. I clicked it and everything in the ownership pane became active. I plugged in, played and recorded actual music into Cubase!

Nowhere in the manual, the tutorials, the installation documents, the online forums…nowhere could I find the solution. It makes me feel really stupid to think that everyone using Cubase knew this but me. Well, fuck it, I know it now. Tech support? We don’t need no stinking tech support!

I just need plenty of shoes.

Have I sold out? I have been the quintessential analog snob when it comes to guitar and bass amplification. I’ve spent the greater part of my adult life pissing in the general direction of anything and everything new. During my years at Shangri La, we had just about any classic guitar and bass amp available. All of them were painstakingly maintained to original specifications. Pristine examples of ‘59 tweed bassmen, twins, deluxes and champs were strewn in every corner of the place. The Marshall collection belonged in a museum. Vox AC15s and AC30s? Had a roomful. And if so much as a handle or knob had been replaced, we would point and laugh. I had the luxury of access that allowed me to develop a finely tuned sense of outrage when forced to work with non-vintage equipment. I was an elitist of the first order.

I am no longer at Shangri La. Sadly, most of the amps, along with the room to record them in, are still there. I’m now living in a small house and have been jones-ing to make some great guitar sounds in a small room…with neighbors close at hand. No more, “Lets put two Marshall 100 watt rigs in the big room and see how loud they’ll go” for me. Even my ‘65 Fender Champ would probably get me in trouble. What to do…what to do?

Well kids, I crossed the line and got my hands on a Line6 Podxt…that’s right, a FAKE AMP. Fuck it man, you gotta do what you gotta do, right? I’ve had Gary Miller telling me to chuck my amps and try this thing for months now. What?! Chuck my ‘58 Ampeg B15? My ‘62 Fender Showman? My SVT? How can this little kidney-shaped piece of crap replace the handful of great amps I still had in storage? How? Just by plugging in…yup. I plugged my Strat into the little red plastic anti-christ and it was like experiencing the first of the twelve steps. I had to admit that I was powerless over tubes, transformers and greenbacks. My musical life had become un-manageable. Faced with the prospect of writing and recording guitar and bass parts in my living room without my trusty drugs of choice, vintage tube amps, I was paralyzed into non-productivity. All those little meddlers whispering in my ear, “try the pod, go on, it’s ok” were really pissing me off. And now I had to make amends to the gods of tone and admit that I was wrong.

I’ve only spent a few days with this little gem so I don’t feel qualified to write a proper review. I’ve only just scratched the surface of it’s capabilities. But I suspect that it will prove to have more to offer than I will require. I’ve already discovered most of the trusty guitar amp sounds that I’m used to. Then I went to the Line6 web site and downloaded the bass amp/cabinet models. I own a vintage B15, a Polytone Mini-brute, an Ampeg SVT, heads by SWR andTrace Elliot, along with an Acoustic 370, and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I’ll be spending more time in front of my Mac and much, much less at the chiropractor’s office in the future.

Is the Podxt the ultimate answer? Probably not. Is it a suitable replacement for an amp on a live gig? Time will tell if old school tolex junkies like me will flock to kiss the hem of its garment. But I have to say that I am impressed. When deciding which amp to use for a specific part, there should only be one thing to consider…what soundsthe best…period. And the Line6 Podxt sounds pretty friggin good to me. Have I sold out? Don’t ask til you’ve tried one.