Mixing is in full swing!

We had to postpone it until today, but we are finally moving toward finishing the album. 4 songs are done, John is mixing the 5th one right now. I can't wait!

Mixing And Sneezing

We are officially mixing the new album as I'm typing these words. Actually, John is mixing at Station West and I am nursing a cold at home, but he should start sending files for my approval any minute now (if his word is to be believed). Tomorrow the mixing will continue, and if I'm not completely sick and dangerous to society, I will be there too. Hopefully some little interview pieces will be filmed for your viewing pleasure. Stay tuned.

Studio Time

The vocal parts were cut at Station West in Nashville. Some harmonies were done there as well, but some we kept from singing them rough at the house back when the songs were first recorded. My friend and manager Kathy Sacra-Anderson came out and snapped some pics of me singing.

Spooky

After playing a couple of bass tracks on this new project I realized that I have reached the apex of my bass playing potential and invited my oldest not-yet-alienated friend in this world (according to him, since I simply don't remember us hanging out in elementary school), Sergei Olkhovsky, known to the Bering Strait fans as Spooky, to join the process.

First we tried to send each other music files like it's 21 century, but the only good thing that came out of that kind of a remote creative process was an unexpected balalaika part he snuck into one of my songs (for as long as I can remember I have rejected Spook's balalaika part offerings, so he had to hide his intentions this time). 

So one Friday night in August I invited Sergei to our house for a session of music making and beer drinking:

Many hours later our creative process looked a little differently:

All together we cut eight songs that night, but some had to be finished later in a more professional setting:

I love how serious they look in this last shot. 

Ultimately, we realized that one thing that we couldn't record in our bedroom studio were my vocals. Microphones used for that purpose are very sensitive, and someone is ALWAYS cutting grass in our neighborhood, so we had to abandon our ambitious plans to cut the whole thing at home and put on non-pajama clothes to work. Bummer.

How We Did It This Time

So how are we recording this new album of mine? 

First of all, let me introduce to you my creative partner in crime, my husband John Caldwell. 

We have collaborated on multiple projects in the past: he recorded two of my albums -- Balancing Act and Out Of My Hands, he was also the second engineer on Bering Strait's Pages (that's how we met), and in addition to capturing and mixing my music, he is featured on Long Night that we co-wrote. Besides being an awesome engineer and producer, John is also a very talented songwriter and musician. His solo work include a hip-hop album and various electronica and dance music projects. 

As I mentioned in my post about Nashville sessions, this new album started out as a demo that I was going to record at home to save a bit of money. I thought that I could learn to play that song on a couple of instruments that are similar enough to acoustic guitar, just to add texture to the song (I kept hearing mandolin in my head, it was nagging me, begging to be included), and so I started with mandolin and banjo and practiced a little bit. 

Both instruments were borrowed, both refused to stay in tune, in fact we had to use pliers to tune the banjo, but when we sat down in our bedroom/studio and began to layer the tracks on top of one another, we realized that something totally special was happening. Somewhere between the sheer excitement of playing stuff that was new to me and the way those slightly pitchy, beat up instruments were blending with my lovely Guild acoustic, we stumbled upon a sound that was unlike anything I've ever done before. We kept adding stuff and adding stuff, getting more and more excited about it -- shakers, tambourine, e-bow... My favorite part of that track is the bass. Did you know that if you play gut string guitar like you would a bass and then drop the recorded notes down an octave, they sound just like an upright bass? I didn't either! Once my husband started playing with different effects, I just sat there listening, while in my mind a thought was forming: THIS IS IT. This is the next thing I'm going to do. 

So I asked my Nashville friends to lend me some instruments. One of the advantages of living in this town is that everyone has something to spare. My favorite one is a dulcitar, a chimera of an instrument, I borrowed from my friend and another collaborator on Long Night, Tim Buchanan, AKA Spun Counterguy. I will post some good pics with all the instruments I got to play at a later date. Here's a picture of me playing my hands. Did you know that you can make a shaker sound if you rub your palms together? I didn't.

I also finally got to play some piano which was always a dream of mine. I have this lifetime of unrequited love with the instrument -- Tori Amos being my favorite artist -- where every chance I got to study it, something would inevitably happen to prevent it. I have studied classical music IN RUSSIA seriously for close to 12 years, which normally would mean 12 years of playing piano as a second instrument, regardless of what specialty you are pursuing, but in my case they kept making exceptions to allow me to play acoustic guitar in Bering Strait and count that as my second instrument. As a result I have a combined 2 months of classical piano training, also known as a pathetic and failed attempt. Anyway, you will get to hear what I managed to get out of these clumsy non-piano fingers of mine, when everything is mixed and ready to be heard.

But the best part of the process is making music in pajamas. You should totally try it! This is it for now :)

How It's Usually Done In Music City, USA

I guess, if I'm going to talk about the difference between the record I'm working on right now and the ones I recorded in the past, I should describe the Nashville studio process. 

Nashville session musicians go to work just like people go to the office in the morning. Their work day is divided into 3 hour blocks, and sometimes they can go into up to three studios a day to work on different projects. A day in the studio begins with sound engineers setting up their equipment with the help of interns, cartage people bringing in a drum set or heavy key boards, and sometimes a quick piano tuning done before a master session. Then in come musicians, drinking their coffee, having a conversation about the families (some of them get to work together multiple times a week, so they are all old friends), and unpacking their instruments. After the set ups are complete, everyone congregates in the control room for a listen to the first song of the day. Sometimes chord charts are written right on the spot, or (like in our case) charts are read and arrangement points are discussed. Charts are written in what is dubbed "The Nashville system" -- a numeric system slightly different from the classical way of assigning numbers to the tones in a given key. I've never mastered it, so I have my session leader Billy Panda write them for everyone in a separate meeting. Then we play. First focusing of the main track -- drums, bass, acoustic guitar, and whatever other instruments provide the "bones" of the song. Then come individual "fixes" ("hey, man, let me grab that line!") and finer points of arrangement, or additional tracks get layered on top of the existing music. My work as a producer on the three albums I've done this way, was mostly steering this well oiled machine into the general direction I wanted it to go and then letting the musicians shine. When something wasn't working, I would stop everything and try to convey the ideas to my group of players, and in some cases I would hum the notes of bang on something to demonstrate where the melody or rhythm was going off track. Mostly though it was a process of setting things up and then getting out of the way. Lots of amazed encouragement. 

It goes without saying, that this town has the densest concentration of talent and skill when it comes to making music, and I believe that while working on Cheap Escape I have found the ideal combination of players to help me express my ideas. 

Allison Prestwood, Tommy Harden, Mike Rojas, Bob Britt and Billy Panda (pictured here from left to right) are some of the most soulful players I've ever met (and believe me, I've shared the stage with amazing musicians my entire life, being from Bering Strait, so I'm quite spoiled)! Of course, I asked them to join me again on Out Of My Hands, and on my more stripped down and acoustic album Balancing Act, along with Panda, who is a human orchestra and a total joy to work with, I employed the help of my fabulous ex-bandmate Alex Arzamastsev and Byron House who just got done recording with Robert Plant at the time. Here's a picture of Billy and Byron during the first day of making Balancing Act:

Why am I saying all this? Because this time around I am doing it all myself. It started off as a joke. We had a banjo and a mandolin someone lended my husband John Caldwell, and I told everyone that I was going to play those instruments that I DON'T PLAY on a little demo we were going to record in our tiny bedroom studio that week. It was like, yeah, I'm off to learn to play banjo and mandolin. Right, I'm ready. That little demo we cut became the first song we recorded for this project. Now we have seven. More about it later.

Why Blog?

I will begin by saying that I realize now that I have sleepwalked through most of my 25 years as a professional musician. I was mostly steered into different directions, probably because I started performing so young, by various authority figures (parents, teachers, label executives, managers, etc.). In the beginning it didn't matter. The best part of playing in a band for my tween- and teenage self was the sense of adventure and camaraderie, regardless of the cognitive dissonance that was brewing as a result of a complete clash of what I listened to and what I played. Fast forward into twenties, and things got a bit more complicated. Two decades of life in Soviet Union and then Russia -- check. Eleven years of classical guitar training -- check. Jazz college -- check. Bluegrass band -- check. Same band, but country music, a major record deal, lots of hype and expectations, total lack of creative control -- check. 

And yes, my influences included country old timers, and classical composers, and The Beatles, just like the press-releases said, but mostly I was listening to Tori Amos and heavy metal, and as a hobby, I was writing sad/angry (and sometimes, oh, so melodramatic) songs of my own, that had zero value from my country music career stand point. The point is, even though I enjoyed being a performer, I was just that. Singing songs other people wrote. Sleepwalking.

Then Bering Strait, the band I was a part of for 18 years, broke up, and I sleepwalked into a solo career. A little more awake now, though, but still just following the path that was laid out in front of me. Given total creative freedom by my indie label, I recorded and produced my first album, Cheap Escape, piecing it together out of the best songs I've written in previous 8 or so years, with one thought guiding me in my creative process: it had to be different from Bering Strait. I think I succeeded in that. And it was such an intense high -- being in the studio and not just interpreting, but creating something entirely out of nothing! You can't stop once you've tasted it!

So a couple of years later I kinda accidentally recorded another album, Balancing Act. It was intended as one thing, and ended up being something else, which is always exciting. In the process I started to find my voice (which is different from avoiding sounding like something, you see?). Then I recorded another, my favorite of the three, Out Of My Hands. And in between studio work I toured a little with my guitar, I taught yoga and took care of my family.

And then I decided to retire as a professional musician. 25 years is a good round number to get tired of doing something. I felt like I had nothing to say anymore. I even called my publisher/manager/booking agent/biggest fan Kathy Anderson and told her that I was done. I was depressed, sad, and felt like a total loser. So I got a loop pedal and an E-bow, and decided that from now on music is a hobby of mine. I guess, buying an expensive piece of equipment is a guitarist's equivalent of pacifying a midlife crisis with a slick convertible. 

So that was last August. I guess, I didn't retire after all, because I'm in the middle of producing and recording a new project. Something that I am very excited about. And for the first time in my life I have a feeling of being completely awake (to continue with the metaphor, for I am a Nashville songwriter after all) and in charge of the process, even though, ironically, my husband John Caldwell is co-producing this one with me. I want to share this process with anyone who finds "making of" as fascinating as I do. This blog is about making music in general and about making this new album we decided to call Never Going Home, in particular.

Why Here?

So... I made an attempt to blog on Tumblr back in the summer, but I'm moving my blog here, because Tumblr is saying my computer is too old and not all features will be displayed properly. Hmmm. Buy a new computer that will support Chrome or move to Blogger? Decisions, decisions :)
Anyway, I will try to use this blog to update you on the progress of the new album. Let's see what happens.