Here you'll find notes from the composer (myself), the engineer (Stephen Jansen), and the art designer (Katie Bohem) about the progress and process of recording this album
MIKE: Well, here we go again; onto the exciting task of recording. I really enjoyed making the first album and am looking forward to the new ideas and songs that this one holds.
What can I say about it? Some things will be similar to the first record: there will be a new "concept story" to follow, though this one is a bit deeper. Also, Stephen Jansen, Katie Bohem, Molly Agnew, Tim Borst, KT Somero, and Hannah Trobe are all returning to work on this, and I'm getting some help from some new people as well who I'll introduce to you later. I'll be playing most of the instruments myself. A few different things: its going to be louder, its going to be funnier, and there will be more clues to the "conceptual continutiy." Wow this is so pretentious.....
MIKE: It was an early morning, but Steve and I continued our method of "guerrilla recording tactics" by getting in and out quickly during the off hours. The piano was nice, a little darker than most pianos I've played but a very full sound. We recorded seven songs.
STEVE: Okay, before you judge us, just realize that very few regular people have the financial wherewithal to afford a grand piano (the simple fact that their solid cast frames must withstand more than thirty-two tons of pressure exerted by all of that taut piano wire means that there is a certain level of top craftmanship required in their creation, which, quite frankly, costs plenty of money), let alone having the expensive space to spare for one.
Add to that the impressively adequate, but not phenomenal, piano samples available in today's keyboards, and you begin to get a sense of the magnitude of our problem: Only a REAL LIVE grand piano would do for a recording of this quality for a project of this importance...
We showed up at the NAME WITHHELD FOR SECURITY REASONS Arts Center at 2 a.m., dressed all in black. Well, Mike for some reason, was also wearing a yellow bowtie...he's the artistic type, always having to make some sort of STATEMENT...but I digress.
I carred in my equipment: double-shotgun case filled with various microphones, 16-track digital recorder, attache with 2 large-diaphragm condenser mics, huge Tubberware tub loaded with recording paraphernalia, etc.
Mike carried in his equipment: eight fingers and two thumbs.
We began by making a kind of grappling/bolo, combining multiple mic cables with an otherwise useless broken Telefunken (with leather?) at the end for weight. We swung this up to the top of the building, until it finally did its job, and lodged itself around the chimney. We then scaled the side of the building (a la Batman and Robin) and quietly forced our way in via a second-story window (Mike's skills as a master lock-picker are not to be taken lightly--he learned from the best, during his short stay in the big house). Then, retrieving the mic cables, we worked our way down to the first floor where the grand pianos were. Not wanting to attract any undue attention, we set up in the dim glow of my multitrack's "Record Ready" light. One could almost make out the 2 PZM mics taped to the underside of the piano lid, or of the 2 Audio Technica AT4040s strategically placed inside the piano body, bathed in the faint strobing orange light.
Then, Mike let loose. He wailed on the piano; energy that would make Ben Folds jealous, progressions that would make John Lennon cry. For an instant it seemed that maybe the absence of light had somehow allowed him to channel the spirits of Ray Charles, the cataract imparied Handel, the glaucoma-riddled Bach, the syphilitic Delius, the superstitious Stevie Wonder...I wonder...I am pretty sure that I heard the wailing of the spirits somewhere in the background, like some disembodied operatic amateur diva attempting to learn her out-of-range arias...
For three-and-a-half hours he played his heart out. Some of the best stuff I ever heard. When he finished, he ceremoniously closed the lid over the keys, slowly stood up and let out a long sigh while he rubbed his aching knuckles.
"Man," I said, "That was amazing. Just beautiful. I...I've never heard anything like it. I'm floored! We sure made the right choice breaking in here after hours, to use a REAL grand piano. It never would have had THIS kind of feel on your Casio. Whenever you're ready for me to hit 'Record,' just let me know."
MIKE: It's really amazing, but cough drops can go a long way in preparing for a recording session so that one does not translate those onto the recording. Or you can just be a fantastic recording engineer like Steve and be able to hold the cough back until after the perfect take is done recording. We completed all of the acoustic guitar tracks for the record today.
STEVE: Amidst the rubble of an otherwise deserted construction site, Mike and Steve set up the recording area: a long, lone extension cord ferries power to the desolate area; folding chairs and card tables are the only furniture that can be carted down the treacherous path to the section that has been chosen as sonically advantageous.
The direct piezo line out from Mike's Taylor guitar is paired with a DiMarzio clip-in pickup, to give a brilliant stereo image of the powerful acoustic instrument. To this pair of direct/clean signals is added a live, ambient source from the "Ladder" mic, carefully placed to pick up the best reverberant natural echoes, to record a bit of ACTUAL AIR MOVING MOLECULES (makes all the difference in the world, moves things from artificial sounding to natural sounding).
A dog barks in the distance (was that picked up on the recording? I think it happened between takes...I hope so...). We wind out way through four or five songs in this manner , changing to a relatively close "Box" mic somwhere in the middle, for a more intimate audio feel, "to bring the listener in."
When Mike finished, he hustled out, having a gig to play immediately afterward. He never stops.
When Steve finished, he hustled out, and took a nap. He often stops. ZZzzzzzzz...