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FOUR DISCS, 26 YEARS: THE MAKING OF BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN'S ''TRACKS''
Jan 1, 1999 12:00 PM, Dan
Daley, Mix Magazin
Bruce Springsteen's impressive career was launched with Greetings From
Asbury Park in 1973. He was signed based on demos supervised by the
legendary John Hammond Sr. Two years and two albums later, Born To Run
made the Freehold, N.J., native a household name, and by 1984, Born
in the U.S.A. had made him a mega-star. But a dozen or so albums over
more than 25 years of recording barely scratch the surface of this prolific
artist's career. When recording studio albums, he would often ignore
all the songs he'd been working on between records, and he's famous
for recording more songs than he needed for many of his albums: For
example, for Born in the U.S.A. about 60 tracks were recorded in total;
on Human Touch in 1992, around 40 songs went into the can.
The Springsteen canon is massive, so it's no surprise that the retrospective
undertaken by Springsteen and his team in early 1998-a four-disc collection
called Bruce Springsteen: Tracks, released in November-was an archival
endeavor of Homeric proportions. Tracks offers many songs no one but
Springsteen and his inner circle have ever heard before. Aside from
those rarities are treats such as the four-song demo that John Hammond
produced for Springsteen's Columbia signing and several B sides of singles,
such as "Pink Cadillac," which was slated to appear on Born in the U.S.A.
but which wound up being relegated to the flip side of the "Dancin'
in the Dark" single instead.
"We knew that this was going to be quite an undertaking," recalls Toby
Scott, who has worked as an engineer for Springsteen for the past two
decades. Scott was Chuck Plotkin's engineer at the producer's studio,
Clover, in Los Angles in 1978 when Plotkin was called in to finish mixes
for Darkness on the Edge of Town. Over time, Springsteen came to rely
more and more on Scott, both in the studio and for recording live performances,
and Scott has handled nearly all of Springsteen's recording work since
1980. But one of Scott's greatest contributions is a computerized database
that he began working on in 1985; Scott created it in order to help
Springsteen find specific songs in his rapidly growing treasury of demos,
outtakes and songs that didn't make it onto albums, so Springsteen could
keep rotating them into his ever-changing live sets.
"In February [1998], Bruce had been recording material for a new album,
and in the middle of it he just stopped and said, 'Let's do the boxed
set,'" recalls Scott, who began the project working from his home in
Whitefish, Montana. "That's what we had always referred to this project
as. We knew since the 1980s that he would do it at some point." Springsteen
gave Scott a list of more than a hundred songs, and Scott began researching
them in the catalog. Most of the material was in rough-mix form, and
for a time the creative crew of Springsteen, Plotkin and manager Jon
Landau considered releasing those mixes, even doing a tentative initial
mastering session to see what they would sound like. But a listening
session in June among the three produced a decision-prompted mainly
by Landau-to do remixes from the original masters.
Meanwhile, Sony Music had been alerted that the project was under way,
and the record company's corporate machine ground into gear, creating
its own timetable and setting a September deadline for master submission.
"We didn't even have a final list of songs for the project in June,
and here we were facing a three-month deadline in which we were going
to have to find, remix and master dozens of songs," recalls Scott. "It
was almost overwhelming."
Almost. But the database project Scott had started and maintained helped
enormously in locating the desired multitrack reels. These were sent
to Springsteen's South Jersey estate, a working farm with several additional
buildings on the property, one of which-a 185-year-old farmhouse-is
his personal recording studio (profiled in Mix in June '96). Scott had
first put Springsteen's home recording setup together back in 1982,
when the artist was working on Born in the U.S.A. and recording new
songs to cassette. Springsteen had become enamored of the stark tonal
quality he could achieve with an acoustic guitar and a cassette, and
that experience eventually contributed to Nebraska. But as Springsteen
seemed to increasingly enjoy working outside the conventional studio
setting, Scott offered to put together a more sophisticated recording
operation for him. Initially, it was an 8-track MCI recorder and a 16-input
Trident Trimix console, which would mix down to the early digital F-1
format, which essentially was little more than a stereo A-D converter
and a VHS VCR. "It was awkward, but it was digital and 16-bit, either
44.1 kHz or 48 kHz," says Scott. "He did over a dozen songs on that
format, and two wound up on the boxed set. He really needed a home studio
back then, if only so we didn't end up mastering cassettes for the rest
of his career."
Beginning in late June of last year, Scott organized how to get the
songs for the boxed set (which had grown to 128 in number) located and
remixed if necessary in the increasingly short window ahead of them.
The solution was to turn the farmhouse into a recording complex. By
this time, the home studio had been considerably updated-after going
to 24-track analog (another MCI machine, an expanded Trident; later
a 62-input Amek Angela and the first of what would be two of the early
Sony 3324 digital multitracks), it now features a 96-input Euphonix
CS2000 console and a pair of Sony 3348 digital multitracks, with mixdown
mainly to DAT. Over the years, as he updated the database of recordings,
Scott's thoroughness extended to having original masters transferred
to digital multitrack formats, and this helped considerably when the
boxed set project began-by then most of the masters were already transferred
to digital. The Euphonix room was dubbed Studio A. Next, it was arranged
for Kooster McAllister's Record Plant Remote truck to come to the estate,
where it would act as Studio B, parked across the driveway from the
farmhouse. Finally, longtime Springsteen mixer Bob Clearmountain came
onboard. Because of scheduling conflicts, he worked from his SSL-equipped
home studio in Los Angeles, and Scott arranged for ISDN lines and an
EDNet digital conversion system to be linked to the New Jersey site.
Engineer Ed Thacker was brought in to do mixes on the Euphonix, and
Thom Panunzio, who was an assistant engineer for producer/engineer Jimmy
Iovine on Born To Run at the old Record Plant Studios in Manhattan,
was hired to mix from the Record Plant truck.
"We realized that there was no way to meet the deadline of September
10 if we just used one studio to remix all of this," Scott says. "The
math just didn't work. And there were scheduling issues to deal with
when you have more than one mixer. Ed was available from July through
September; Bob was booked almost through August; Thom had time in the
end of July and all of August. So we had to have multiple studios working
and multiple mixers mixing at the same time, if necessary."
Through early August, Scott was coordinating virtually all of this by
phone, awaiting the birth of his first child in Whitefish. He hired
engineer Greg Goldman, whom he had worked with before, to act as his
eyes and ears on the ground in New Jersey. All the mixers shared Yamaha
NS-10 monitoring in common-Springsteen's own favorite studio speaker-coupled
with dB Technologies A-D converters (Clearmountain used Apogee converters).
This gave an element of consistency to the project, which would cover
26 years' worth of Springsteen recordings and encompass a broad array
of recording formats and technology.
Artistically, Plotkin assigned songs from various eras of Springsteen's
career among the three engineers chronologically. "The earlier stuff
went to Thom, because he was actually around for some of it," Scott
explains. Thacker was also given some of that material, as well as a
lot of the middle period Springsteen. Clearmountain remixed later pieces,
from the Human Touch era forward. "As a result, there was enough material
so that most of the time the mixers weren't crossing over between eras,"
Scott says. "For instance, CD three is all Thacker and CD four is all
Clearmountain. And the material itself has so much internal variation
between periods that there really isn't a consistency issue in most
of it. It stands alone. Besides, we've all heard a few Bruce Springsteen
mixes before."
Thacker's connection to Springsteen was peripheral until he was called
for this project. He had been friends with Plotkin for years and had
been working in recent years on music projects with E Street Band keyboardist
Roy Bittan. However, that, combined with a highly evolved working knowledge
of the Euphonix console, made him a good choice for Studio A, says Scott.
From Thacker's point of view, the experience was much more than simply
a gig. "Bruce's records had been a big influence on me as an engineer
in terms of their power and content," he observes. "The interesting
thing about them is that they're not as guitar-driven as you might remember
them. Once I opened up the tapes I realized that the guitars are more
like the foundation of the rhythm and the keyboards have these little
interlocking melodies that really give you the hook." After mixing 38
of the 66 songs in the boxed set, Thacker found, too, that Springsteen
had changed his attitude toward reverb. "We all recall his vocals as
being very big and sitting in the track surrounded by reverb," he says.
"But in several instances he asked me to make the vocals drier than
they might have been 20 years ago; make them a little more personal.
We weren't trying to re-create the past with this project; the songs
and the music do that themselves."
A typical day in August, when all three engineers were working simultaneously
on mixes, was both complex and cacophonous. Panunzio and Thacker would
generally set up a mix during the evenings, returning the next morning
to complete it. Springsteen would call in during the afternoons and
show up between 4 p.m. and 7 p.m. to listen to mixes and make any suggested
changes. Plotkin was also present, adding his input.
Meanwhile, Clearmountain was doing the same, but with a three-hour time
difference, with his mixes being played back in real time over NS-10s
in the living room at Springsteen's recording compound. By then, Scott's
wife had delivered and he was back on-site and, along with assistant
engineer Ross Petersen (who was also assisting Thacker in Studio A),
using the mornings to handle any maintenance tasks that had cropped
up overnight. "It got so you could hear music coming from all over the
place," Scott recalls of those bustling dog days of summer. "It was
an old building, and you could hear everyone's mixes coming through
the walls around you." It was a beehive-like production line that was
creating what would eventually become 66 songs for Tracks in less than
90 days.
Thom Panunzio had specified the Record Plant Remote truck, which ran
on an external generator for the first few weeks until Kooster McAllister
found a 240-volt source in the greenhouse attached to the farmhouse.
But inside, it could have been the Record Plant in Manhattan, circa
1975, with McAllister's discrete API console and the classic outboard
complement that included Pultec EQP-1As, Fairchild 670s and LA-2As.
"Some of this stuff had originally been recorded 20 years ago, and they
wanted to re-create that effect for this mix," McAllister says. There
was an occasional overdub, as well. "In a lot of cases, Bruce had started
a song and then moved on to the next one, so some of them needed a guitar
part or a tambourine or a harmony," he recalls. "Bruce just stood in
the back of the truck and did it. Usually in one take."
For Panunzio, who had assisted engineer/producer Jimmy Iovine on Darkness
on the Edge of Town at the original Record Plant, it was a time trip.
"It was a flashback to open up the tapes and hear me and Jimmy talking
over the talkback. When you think about it, there's no other artist
who could have had so many great songs not make it onto their records
in the first place."
At the same time, Scott had rented (and learned to operate) a Sonic
Solutions workstation, chosen because it was the same platform that
mastering engineer Bob Ludwig would use for the finished productions.
Scott loaded the final remixes into the Sonic's hard drives. He assembled
them in sequence and according to which disc they would reside on for
the final boxed set, setting spacings and doing crossfades and other
editing tasks. "That would make the mastering stage go that much faster,"
he says. "And once we had material to fill one of the CDs, that would
give us all a chance to reevaluate it artistically in sequence."
Mastering was completed in a week, from hard drives sent to Gateway
Mastering in Portland, Maine. Scott, Plotkin and Springsteen capped
that process off with three days of listening there, making final tweaks
to the four-disc set before sending it off for replication.On schedule.
Scott credits everyone who worked on the complex project as contributing
to its on-time completion, from the technical aspects to the artistic
wrestling that went into choosing which songs would appear on this career-defining
showcase. But the project also had one other tangential accomplishment
that seemed to particularly gratify Scott's orderly proclivities: Sony
Music has recently created its own archive database, and in doing so
has made extensive use of Scott's cataloging efforts over the last decade.
"Now I can just call up Sony and get whatever Bruce Springsteen song
I need," he says. Which will be very helpful for Tracks II, if it ever
happens.

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