My main query
to Mr Emerick regarded where he thought the role of the recording
engineer is headed over the next five years. He responded, "I'll
answer that with one word: downhill." He did elaborate, of course,
immediately invoking Sgt. Pepper's by way of comparison to the majority
of today's pop recordings. "You know, that was originally recorded
in mono, monitored on the right-hand side through one loudspeaker.
... The great thing about that time was that the application of
engineering was more artistic. ... working with sound was working
with colours painted on a canvas."
And prime illustrations
of this fundamental aim to "paint pictures in music" - an aim of
The Beatles themselves and Sir George Martin no less - abound throughout
Mr Emerick's distinguished career with the Fab Four. Emerick helped
create, with The Beatles and Sir George, the technical breakthrough
used on Tomorrow Never Knows: feeding John Lennon's voice through
a Leslie speaker revolving inside a Hammond organ. Lennon's voice
on this unforgettable song is such a haunting sound because it is
so strongly hued and textured in addition to the tapestry woven
by the musical arrangement. The marriage of recording technology
and artistic vision is confirmed again in perhaps the best-known
edit in rock 'n roll history: Emerick's and Martin's melding new
mixes of Take 7 (sped up) and Take 26 (slowed down) of Strawberry
Fields Forever to satisfy Lennon's desire to retain the first minute
of the former and the rest of the latter. And then there is the
vast and eclectic aural canvas of Sgt. Pepper's itself: the stunning
orchestral impressionism in A Day In The Life; the surreal darkness
of Being For The Benefit Of Mr Kite; the cascading brights and shadows
of When I'm Sixty-Four; the velvet psychaedelics of Lucy In The
Sky With Diamonds; and the gorgeous pink silk-over-water texture
of Within You Without You, to mention just a few.
"Starting with
the basic rhythm track, it was trying to colour it tonally," Emerick
remarks of those many Sgt. Pepper's hours (700 hours at Emerick's
own calculation to be precise, as cited in Mark Lewisohn's The Complete
Beatles Chronicle, p. 253). The majority of today's pop recordings
represent a fundamental shift, according to Emerick, a shift "away
from value in production towards value in marketing." Emerick links
this to the dominance of the CD, which has meant that engineers
have been "forced to trade artistic production value for commercial
viability." Simultaneously, the dominance of digital technology
has resulted, he maintains, in a "decline of sound," a "diminishment
of the total range" of sound. All this, he feels, has contributed
to the decline in the artistic function of the recording engineer.
Artistic value, and hence, the creative role of the engineer, is
all about as Emerick puts it "how to capture a performance ... a
certain quality of a performance."
The centrality
of tone colour in helping to express this "certain quality" on a
recording demands precisely the kind of artistic priority Emerick's
work with The Beatles so thoroughly and beautifully illustrates.
It seems fair to say that the value of any technology in recording
sound must be weighed against its ability to help artists, producer
and engineer alike create, through sound, a full tonal and textural
picture. It may be time to re-evaluate the digital emphasis, if
the result is actually a narrowing of the full tonal range, a flattening
of the multi-dimensionality of sound, leaving only a monochromatic
palette from which to paint pictures in music.
"I still record
in analog," Emerick was quick to add, "and we have assistants who
will deal with all the digital stuff." His technical expertise and
innovations, along with his intuitive creativity - all developed
and perfected in the service of bringing sound to textural and visual
life - have continued to expand in his most recent work with Sir
Paul McCartney. Emerick reported that "all goes well" with Flaming
Pie, which was then still in process. As we've seen with the wide
range and beautifully textured sound of this album, Emerick and
McCartney are still painting vivid musical pictures together.
Like The Beatles
and Sir George Martin, Geoff Emerick has consistently pushed through
the barriers
of what was possible in recording, thus creating a new experience
of music for all of us. He remains a complete Artist in his allegiance
to the truth of music: that it resonate the fullness of human creativity,
that it sing our deepest aspirations, and that it be a force for
transformation. I couldn't help but notice the tuning fork pin Mr
Emerick wore in his right lapel. Yes, I thought, like it, every
sound he has helped to create still shines a pure gold.
*** Author's
Note: Alexandra Burack is a Pushcart-Prize nominated poet and classically-trained
singer who is old enough to have listened, entranced, to Sgt. Pepper's
Lonely Hearts Club Band on the day of its original release. She
works as a freelance writer/editor and a consultant in non-profit
organisation management.
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