10
Jun
2003
Some musicians enter the recording studio expecting the producer and recording engineer to work magic. But if they come to Rob Cimmarusti, they should just expect the cold, hard truth.
A lot of producers and engineers have reputations as alchemists, turning the raw materials into something more valuable, or stamping them with a signature sound. Cimmarusti is not one of those producers or engineers. To borrow some of his metaphors, some producers are painters, and he's a photographer, providing an audio snapshot of a band at a given point in its history.
Cimmarusti is not the only recorder/sound engineer in the Quad Cities or surrounding areas, but he's certainly one of the more popular. He estimates that he's worked with between 60 and 70 bands, and on "hundreds" of recordings. He's recorded polished, professional bands such as Einstein's Sister, but he also helps a lot of young bands put together their first demos. He's worked with diverse acts such as Multiple Cat, Circle 7, and 2nd Best, and he sounds particularly proud of the work he's currently doing with Gravity.
Behind the board at his Real Trax studio, Cimmarusti revealed himself as workmanlike and modest. ("I'm not an ambitious guy," he said.) When talking about himself, he speaks most highly of his judgment - on whether a band is any good, and whether a group is ready to record. "I've sent bands home before, two that I can think of," Cimmarusti said.
Yet he's not driven by ego. "I probably know 5 to 10 percent of what there is to know" about his equipment and recording, he said.
The urge to record came to Cimmarusti young. "I've been doing it all my life," he said. "I remember fiddling with tape recorders when I was four." He got a reel-to-reel deck in the mid-'60s, at the age of five. He loved the idea of capturing sound so that it could be re-played later.
He began recording professionally about a dozen years ago, working out of his home. He bought the shell of his studio space from local musician Pat Stolley five years ago, and Real Trax now has between $75,000 and $100,000 in equipment, including instruments.
Yet even with that much money invested, Cimmarusti doesn't have delusions about what he can do with his studio. "I like to think I'm trapped between a project and a professional studio," he said - meaning that he wouldn't record a band's major-label debut at Real Trax. "The gear is basically what keeps you from being professional."
As expensive as Cimmarusti's equipment is, he said it isn't extravagant by any means. "Different boards have different characters," he said. He added that "good" boards can start at $70,000. Cimmarusti's cost $5,000. "It's totally devoid of character," he said. That might be an issue for some engineers, but he said he likes that the equipment doesn't color the results. "I'd want a transparent board."
The recording process is about more than just creating product, especially for young outfits. Often, it's a test to see where the band stands.
"The tape doesn't lie," Cimmarusti said, and he doesn't want it to. He sounds distrustful of a recording process in which a mediocre band sounds good, aided by studio and computer tricks.
Young bands come into the studio and are often surprised at what they hear and what they're told. "They've never been able to listen to themselves objectively," Cimmarusti said.
Although he professes loyalty to the band - his customer - he also seems to have a pact with the people who might hear or buy the music. He wants the band to sound similar on-record to how it sounds in a live setting.
"Hopefully, the musicianship shows through," he said. The way he records, "it still comes out kind of live-sounding. ... I like to think that when I do things, people aren't disappointed when they see the band live."
The process of recording - even something meant to replicate the "live" sound of a band - isn't as simple as listeners (or bands) might expect. Intuitively, you might guess that it's common to record a band playing live in the studio. And it is - but Cimmarusti is often just drawing the drums from the performance. "It is easier, and it is quicker," he said of recording all the musicians together at one time. One might also expect that there's the added advantage of musicians playing off one another. But very few bands - Cimmarusti estimates one in 20 or 30 - can actually come out of live session with a high-quality live recording.
Recording a band "is kind of like working on a puzzle," he said. "There's a lot of art involved, and a lot of nonart. ... It's really arty, and it's technology."
A good engineer/recorder, in other words, has to know the technical aspects of recording - such as microphone placement - and must master the studio technology, but he or she must also know the art of matching up tracks, levels for each instrument and vocals, and what studio effects to employ at the right spot. "You can virtually come up with anything," he said. "There are no rules."
Cimmarusti obviously tries to make his clients sound as good as possible, but often there are deficiencies that he's unwilling to correct.
"Usually there's a weak link, or more than one weak link, in a band," he said. When bands are displeased with something in a recording, Cimmarusti asks a simple question: "Is it a song-wrecker?"
With many bands, Cimmarusti is forced to do a lot of heavily lifting, not only recording but guiding the material. "You almost have to be a mommy and a daddy and a policeman," he said. "Sometimes people come in and say, 'We're in your hands,' and warning bells go off." It's helpful - and often necessary - for a band to come in to the studio with a sense of what they're looking for.
Cimmarusti still records on digital tape, although many other studios are going to "hard-drive recording." With hard-drive recording, "all you need is one good take" or even less than that, he said. From there, a person can cut and paste a track together. Technology has made it "easier to - and I don't know if this is the right term - cheat. ... With hard-disc recording, you can take a lot of liberties." That's counter, of course, to Cimmarusti's record-it-like-it-is philosophy.
Cimmarusti guessed that about 15 to 20 percent of his income comes from his recording studio. "I have to supplement it with other stuff," he said, such as installing sound systems at schools and houses of worship. Time in Real Trax costs between $35 and $40 an hour, depending on how much time an artists wants.
Of course, these days, a lot of bands figure they can record, mix, and release an album using a laptop - foregoing the studio altogether. Cimmarusti said that they lose several key elements doing things that way. "It's the room, having somebody turning the knobs for you, the microphone," he said. And perhaps most importantly, they lose that extra set of ears that an experienced recorder brings.
Cimmarusti is not the only recorder/sound engineer in the Quad Cities or surrounding areas, but he's certainly one of the more popular. He estimates that he's worked with between 60 and 70 bands, and on "hundreds" of recordings. He's recorded polished, professional bands such as Einstein's Sister, but he also helps a lot of young bands put together their first demos. He's worked with diverse acts such as Multiple Cat, Circle 7, and 2nd Best, and he sounds particularly proud of the work he's currently doing with Gravity.
Behind the board at his Real Trax studio, Cimmarusti revealed himself as workmanlike and modest. ("I'm not an ambitious guy," he said.) When talking about himself, he speaks most highly of his judgment - on whether a band is any good, and whether a group is ready to record. "I've sent bands home before, two that I can think of," Cimmarusti said.
Yet he's not driven by ego. "I probably know 5 to 10 percent of what there is to know" about his equipment and recording, he said.
The urge to record came to Cimmarusti young. "I've been doing it all my life," he said. "I remember fiddling with tape recorders when I was four." He got a reel-to-reel deck in the mid-'60s, at the age of five. He loved the idea of capturing sound so that it could be re-played later.
He began recording professionally about a dozen years ago, working out of his home. He bought the shell of his studio space from local musician Pat Stolley five years ago, and Real Trax now has between $75,000 and $100,000 in equipment, including instruments.
Yet even with that much money invested, Cimmarusti doesn't have delusions about what he can do with his studio. "I like to think I'm trapped between a project and a professional studio," he said - meaning that he wouldn't record a band's major-label debut at Real Trax. "The gear is basically what keeps you from being professional."
As expensive as Cimmarusti's equipment is, he said it isn't extravagant by any means. "Different boards have different characters," he said. He added that "good" boards can start at $70,000. Cimmarusti's cost $5,000. "It's totally devoid of character," he said. That might be an issue for some engineers, but he said he likes that the equipment doesn't color the results. "I'd want a transparent board."
The recording process is about more than just creating product, especially for young outfits. Often, it's a test to see where the band stands.
"The tape doesn't lie," Cimmarusti said, and he doesn't want it to. He sounds distrustful of a recording process in which a mediocre band sounds good, aided by studio and computer tricks.
Young bands come into the studio and are often surprised at what they hear and what they're told. "They've never been able to listen to themselves objectively," Cimmarusti said.
Although he professes loyalty to the band - his customer - he also seems to have a pact with the people who might hear or buy the music. He wants the band to sound similar on-record to how it sounds in a live setting.
"Hopefully, the musicianship shows through," he said. The way he records, "it still comes out kind of live-sounding. ... I like to think that when I do things, people aren't disappointed when they see the band live."
The process of recording - even something meant to replicate the "live" sound of a band - isn't as simple as listeners (or bands) might expect. Intuitively, you might guess that it's common to record a band playing live in the studio. And it is - but Cimmarusti is often just drawing the drums from the performance. "It is easier, and it is quicker," he said of recording all the musicians together at one time. One might also expect that there's the added advantage of musicians playing off one another. But very few bands - Cimmarusti estimates one in 20 or 30 - can actually come out of live session with a high-quality live recording.
Recording a band "is kind of like working on a puzzle," he said. "There's a lot of art involved, and a lot of nonart. ... It's really arty, and it's technology."
A good engineer/recorder, in other words, has to know the technical aspects of recording - such as microphone placement - and must master the studio technology, but he or she must also know the art of matching up tracks, levels for each instrument and vocals, and what studio effects to employ at the right spot. "You can virtually come up with anything," he said. "There are no rules."
Cimmarusti obviously tries to make his clients sound as good as possible, but often there are deficiencies that he's unwilling to correct.
"Usually there's a weak link, or more than one weak link, in a band," he said. When bands are displeased with something in a recording, Cimmarusti asks a simple question: "Is it a song-wrecker?"
With many bands, Cimmarusti is forced to do a lot of heavily lifting, not only recording but guiding the material. "You almost have to be a mommy and a daddy and a policeman," he said. "Sometimes people come in and say, 'We're in your hands,' and warning bells go off." It's helpful - and often necessary - for a band to come in to the studio with a sense of what they're looking for.
Cimmarusti still records on digital tape, although many other studios are going to "hard-drive recording." With hard-drive recording, "all you need is one good take" or even less than that, he said. From there, a person can cut and paste a track together. Technology has made it "easier to - and I don't know if this is the right term - cheat. ... With hard-disc recording, you can take a lot of liberties." That's counter, of course, to Cimmarusti's record-it-like-it-is philosophy.
Cimmarusti guessed that about 15 to 20 percent of his income comes from his recording studio. "I have to supplement it with other stuff," he said, such as installing sound systems at schools and houses of worship. Time in Real Trax costs between $35 and $40 an hour, depending on how much time an artists wants.
Of course, these days, a lot of bands figure they can record, mix, and release an album using a laptop - foregoing the studio altogether. Cimmarusti said that they lose several key elements doing things that way. "It's the room, having somebody turning the knobs for you, the microphone," he said. And perhaps most importantly, they lose that extra set of ears that an experienced recorder brings.
