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Home is Where the Studio is: Part 1

AT’s Editor, Andy Stewart, kicks off a series of articles following the construction of his own studio – warts and all. This issue he asks the crucial question: ‘what’s my motivation here?’

By

25 September 2007

Text: Andy Stewart

So you want to build a recording studio/mixing room at home. Are you sure? Do you really want to become friendless, penniless, socially unskilled and isolated? Do you really like hitting your thumbs with hammers, breathing in toxic fumes, burning yourself with soldering irons and grazing your knuckles on concrete? You do? Are you out of your mind?! If the answer is ‘yes’, then read on McDuff.

Now that we’ve established that you’re clinically certifiable, welcome to the club! It’s a big decision you’ve made, and we’re glad you’ve made it. We welcome new members and we’re not fussy about who you are, what your track record’s like, or if you even have a track record. You may be building a home studio because you’re recording and mixing your own project – or the projects of others within your vicinity – and either be expecting cash, cheque or unripe bananas as payment… or indeed no payment. We’re not interested in whether you have big-name clients or no clients at all. All we’re concerned about is your commitment to the cause, that you’re aware of what’s truly involved in such an undertaking (as opposed to what your excitable mates tell you) and that you’ve been read your rights before we process your application.

YOU’RE RIGHTS (SUCH AS THEY ARE)

You have the right to remain silent, although silence isn’t really one of the aims of this game, I would have thought. Anything you mix may be given in evidence and held against you in a court of law, and all ‘work-in-progress’ mixes shall be considered final mixes as per A&R sub-clause 84, which reads: “Yeah, I got the ‘final’ mix the other day from a mate who emailed me a copy of the MP3 you sent him, and to be honest it didn’t really grab me, so we’re getting it mixed OS”.

Say goodbye to your relationships, savings, weekends and early nights, and hello to endless sessions, gear addiction and long running projects. Expect six-week jobs to take nine months, never expect to have all the gear you want, and whatever you do, don’t tell everyone you have $60,000 worth of studio equipment in your back shed. This is secret (predominantly) men’s business (though it baffles me why more women aren’t involved… maybe they’re too smart) and if you let too many people know about your setup, you may return home from that (exceptionally rare) trip outside the house one day to discover that you’ve been rolled by someone who doesn’t see your gear with the same affectionate eyes as you do.

I’ve been in this crazy club for many a long year now and several of my friends and work colleagues have been too. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of necessarily and I can’t really remember that I ever made a conscious decision to join. I just couldn’t get enough of making albums when I was a teenager and when it became clear that recording them involved much more than simply turning up with some instruments and playing, I realised that I’d better start understanding the process much better if I wanted the albums I played on to be comparable to those of the bands I admired.

Nowadays, I’m involved in audio every day of my life, and sometimes the days are long. But I’m used to that now and often have a quiet chuckle to myself when I see a news bulletin where someone complains about ‘being held back at work til 6.30…’. ‘Is that AM or PM you’re talking about, mate?’, I often mutter to myself.

The fact is, producing audio at home or in a commercial facility, whether it be albums, film soundtracks, ads or gaming music, can seem like a romantic notion at first, but make no mistake, it can be very hard (often poorly paid) work involving long hours and relentless timetables. So before you swing a hammer in earnest to build your private setup, ask yourself this very simple question: “Why am I doing this?”

GETTING THE SIZE RIGHT

Despite what I’ve said about budget, one thing’s for sure, as your space gets larger, so does the bill. Everything becomes magnified: the time it takes to design the space, the amount of building materials to construct it, the number of helpers to realise it, the metres of cabling to wire it all together, the tins of paint to cover the walls, the acoustic treatments, lights fixtures, nails, gloves, glue, masks and sheets of sandpaper… Everything costs money. Building a home studio is like having five spoilt teenagers in the house that never grow up; they’ve always got their hand out for more money! So build within your means (and skills) and try not to bite off more than you can chew, otherwise you might find your studio gear in storage for two years while the walls get built, and no-one wants that.

YOU’RE GONNA WHAT?

Now this question isn’t supposed to sound deflating or negative, quite the contrary. Whether you’re completely new to this game or recovering from you’re third ear reconstruction, if you’ve decided to make physical changes to your surroundings by turning that shed into a mix room, or the two (arguably) ‘spare bedrooms’ into overdub booths replete with viewing glass, you are about to get a whole lot more serious about this caper. You’re about to embark on a process that will – I guarantee it – take up vastly more of your time than your optimistic appraisal predicts. You’ll come up against serious financial costs that add up faster than the new MacPro and, before you know it, your budget will be blown (but more on that later).

The simple fact is, before you design your rooms, seek help with acoustic treatments, or purchase building materials for the project, you’ve got to be clear on why it is you’re embarking on such an enterprise. Only once this is crystal clear should you even start getting the pencil and paper out and drawing groovy lines on blank paper. The hardest part is deciding what you’re building, and importantly, whom you’re building it for… and then it just gets harder! I know this might seem like an easy question to answer at first – ‘it’s for me, of course!’ – but experience has repeatedly shown me that many people build ‘home studios’ supposedly to record their own music and then simply never get around to it. This is either because recording their own music is something they never really intended in the first place, or because so much money is spent building the studio, they’re forced to hire it out to recoup some of the costs. So make sure you ask yourself the question; ‘Why am I building this?’, and be honest with yourself about the answer! Don’t pull the wool over your own eyes or you’re going to get it horribly wrong, and no acoustic science or million-dollar cabling will be able to fix it! Only once you’re clear on this should you pop down to Officeworks and spend $4.95 on a pencil and paper… oh, and an eraser! Don’t forget the eraser!

Congratulations! You’ve just purchased your first item for the studio construction… that’s not in the ‘budget’.

Don’t pull the wool over your own eyes or you’re going to get it horribly wrong, and no acoustic science or million-dollar cabling will be able to fix it!

The Neve arriveth: The 51 Series Neve has 40 faders and 56 inputs and will take centre stage in the new room. I haven’t been able to help myself; it’s set up in the mix position already, even before the walls go up.

PLANNING THE PROJECT

Now that you’re clear on the aims, and the pencil is in hand, forget drawing rhomboids and six-sided doohickeys – write them down. It’s simply amazing how often you’ll later find yourself staring blankly at a wall, wondering whether the giant hole you’re about create with that sledge hammer in your hand is really the right thing to be doing. You might suddenly doubt whether that second overdub booth is necessary, or feel like the plans are all wrong because you really want to see the western sun, despite all the arguments to the contrary you heard last week. When this happens – and it will – go back to this list of aims and read them again, and again…. and again. And never forget, it’s much easier to build a wall on paper and ‘knock it down’ with an eraser, than it is to build and demolish it in the real world… never mind the money you’ll save!

HOME STUDIO DE-CONSTRCTION

Over the next few issues I’m hoping to make you a fly on the wall of a project I’m involved with right now. It’s a home studio construction and the client is yours truly. Yep that’s right, I’m building yet another studio… at home. I must be crazy! Over this period I’ll be attempting to put down on paper everything involved in this project as it happens: every thought process, every rumination, every success and failure. (There will even be video posts on the AT website.) Throughout this perilous venture I hope to impart a few basic techniques on studio construction, explain why I’m doing things the way I am, why I’ve chosen to use the materials I have, and most significantly, how they’ll be used. All the mistakes I (inevitably) make along the way will be plain to see, and by the end of it I’ll hopefully have a new and exciting working environment.

Actually, there’s my first mistake right there, using the first person singular, ‘I’. The fact is, I’m not doing this alone, nor will I be the only one using the space once it’s finished. Fundamental to this project is also Calum Orr, who has had equal involvement in all the planning, preparations, ruminations and construction so far. Others involved are Pete Baird and James Dixon who are helping out with building skills and tools. We may see Greg Walker if we’re lucky, too. Greg’s also planning to work in the space and was going to help with the construction, but he’s unexpectedly buggered off to Northern NSW for three months and his contribution so far has been to occasionally ring up and ask how we’re going, and then proceed to talk about the perfect waves of Lennox Head for half an hour… he’s been a great help! (Just kidding Greg!)

We’re not that far into the project so now is probably a good time to let you in the door… actually it’s been going for about 12 months! And we’re just starting! This is a perfect illustration of probably the most common mistake made by anyone taking on a project of this nature; estimating how long it will all take, from the initial design to the last coat of paint. Most home studios take more than twice as long to construct than was initially anticipated, some take 10 times longer and indeed others never end! So, whatever you do, don’t assume this process is simple, easy or quickly realised. It never is.

MATERIALS

So far the materials purchased new and secondhand, donated and/or scrounged from my brother-in-law’s building site have cost thousands of dollars. The outer structure (minus the floor) has a surface area of approximately 320 square metres, and to cover that we’ve initially purchased 125 sheets of 13mm CSR Gyprock Soundchek, 90 sheets of Yellow Tongue flooring, 167 bags of 3.5R Bradford Rockwool insulation and Green Glue enough to cover this area. We’ve collected and de-nailed a small mountain of secondhand pine framing timber, we’ve purchased new Colorbond roofing to repair certain areas of the roof (which leaked), hundreds of 3-inch nails, countless tubes of Liquid Nails, a nail gun and several other costly power tools. I’ve even bought a new (secondhand) ute! Fuel costs alone must already total in the hundreds of dollars. I’ve had lots of professional and non-professional advice, which has been free – thank god – but even when the fundamentals are purchased all at once, there’s not a day that goes by when we’re building the studio that I don’t have to pull the wallet out for yet another purchase. More often than not these are for things that you wouldn’t think to budget for: decent respirators to protect everyone involved from harmful dust (50 bucks a pop), earmuffs (10 – 30 dollars each), nails for the nail gun ($65 for 3000), and so on it goes.

BUDGET CONSTRAINTS

Like all good level-headed people I’m going to start by talking about the budget. But – and this isn’t something you read every day – I hate the whole idea of a budget so, before we begin, let’s tear it up! Budgeting is boring anyway, it’s anathema to the whole notion of a home studio and it won’t help anyone reading this to know what my budget is and how that relates to your project. Whatever figure you optimistically decide upon when you start your own project will be blown out of the water soon enough. By all means try and cost your project out, if you’re so inclined, but don’t expect the figures to be water-tight. Budgeting a construction is a professional skill in itself. Suffice it to say, if you’re budget minded and concerned about money, stop right now! Put the (nail) gun down and slowly walk away! The fact is, your costs – if you’re serious about your audio – will pretty much equal whatever you earn from now on, so if that’s a scary prospect, I’ll say it again, put the (nail) gun down and…

I’ll admit here and now that my budget for the enormous task I’ve set myself – namely turning my shed at home into a ‘production room’ – is zero. That’s right, zero. But it’s not that I have no money, nor is it because I can’t add up – although that is debatable, and I am a tap-delay kind of guy. It’s that frankly I don’t know much about budgeting anything, whether it be time, money or my weekly shopping list and everyone I know who does gets it wrong anyway – whether it be the State Government, a professional studio or my Aunt Matilda.

I know some of you might already be rolling your eyes at this statement, but seriously, it is impossible to know what this project will cost all up. Not only is most of my gear already owned outright, a lot of it is ‘vintage’ and therefore difficult to value. Much of the wood for the construction will be secondhand, the labour costs may or may not involve professional help and the time it will take to construct is open-ended. I own the property so rent is hard to put a value on too, and I’m not sure whether you’d include that in the budget anyway, either now or at some point in the future when the room is up and running. There will be unknown costs involved in restoring my Neve console, repairing old compressors and deciding what gear should be kept, sold, purchased or given away to charity. And hell, I didn’t get involved in audio because I loved credit and debit columns, and besides, I tend to buy my audio gear the same way I buy groceries… I make a random list, which I then proceed to leave behind anyway (along with the green shopping bags) and walk into the supermarket hungry, so my purchases are usually based on a ‘craving’ rather than a ‘need’.

The trick is to buy what you instinctively know you can afford and avoid buying eight different forms of ‘chocolate’! I have so many mics, for instance, I couldn’t tell you how much they’ve cost me over the years… I hate to think. Should they be in the budget? Dunno. If it turns out that the room we build is primarily for mixing and mastering, the mics really should be sold to absorb some of the costs, but me… sell my Neumanns? Not a chance. I guess my more serious point here is: a budget may be nigh-on impossible to draft up, but money and costs will obviously drive many of your decisions.

There are hidden costs everywhere; glue is expensive, nails are expensive, sandpaper, powertools and screws are too, not to mention the price of timber, cabling and skilled tradesmen (should they be required at some point). The bottom line is, be prudent about every purchase, don’t buy things until you have to (particularly things like computers or DAW software), but whatever you do, don’t cut corners in areas that you’ll regret later (like extra sealant to fill cracks and decent cable). It’s not the latest groovy outboard compressor that will make all the difference to the studio, but rather all the things you can’t see.

AIMS, DRAWINGS, & LAYOUTS

One of the most difficult things I’ve had to resolve – and certainly Cal Orr and Rick O’Neil could attest to the many long hours we’ve spent throwing ideas around… and around – is just what it is we’re building. Central to the plan has always been to construct a space in which albums can be mixed and mastered. That’s always been a given. The problem has mainly been in trying to restrict the premises to these roles and nothing more, and for me, that’s proved exceedingly difficult. There’s nothing in the world of audio, whether it be recording, producing, mixing or mastering, that I don’t get involved in to some degree at various times (this applies to Cal too), and the extent to which I focus my energy in any one of these areas at the expense of the others tends to shift like the sand at Bells Beach. So building a room with ‘limitations’ makes me feel instinctively uneasy. ‘Surely there’s a way to have my cake and eat it to?’ I often think to myself. But in reality, there isn’t. And yet, the plans for the mix room have inevitably drifted towards the so-called ‘need’ for an overdub booth for those last-minute extras. This plan then becomes two overdub booths, one of which then needs to be big enough to record drums and so on and so forth until the whole thing starts to unravel, and before you know it you’re back to designing a recording studio.

One thing that naturally restricts this, however, apart from a dearth of funds, is simply the size of the proposed space. I’ve basically limited myself – and this probably applies to many people in my position – to constructing the ‘studio’ within the confines of an existing structure, in this case, my shed. Although the space is relatively large as far as sheds go, it’s by no means big enough to feel like a ‘blank canvas’ for a large recording facility. What I’ve found myself falling into the trap of doing – over and over it seems – is talking about all these amazing possibilities for the shed, only to then find that when I apply these scenarios to a space 8 metres by 14 metres, they simply won’t fit! So the first thing we’ve had to do is prune back the options for the room and be a little more realistic about the shed’s potential, given its size. But again, this is all so subjective. In the end it really depends on what your expectations are.

I tend to buy my audio gear the same way I buy groceries… I make a random list, which I then proceed to leave behind anyway (along with the green shopping bags) and walk into the supermarket hungry.

Is this thing on? Cal Orr and Greg Walker (in red) replace the channel modules in the Neve immediately after its arrival. And before they’re all in, Greg starts twiddling the knobs. One of the least known secrets of the analogue ‘sound’ is simply that it encourages you to twiddle, even before the thing’s powered up!

UTILISING THE SPACE

The thing that has changed several times over the last few months has been the layout of the studio. Probably the shed’s greatest asset is that the space looks pretty good as-is, and the idea of cutting it up into several smaller rooms seems like madness. And yet, this is precisely what several others have advised we do, despite us all agreeing that smaller rooms will suffer more acoustic problems and compromise the big and open vibe of the building itself. We’ve been a hair’s breath away from building floating floors, walls and ceilings, multiple isolated rooms and airlocks of all shapes and sizes to link them together, without clearly knowing who we were building this all for, and how we would pay for it. And yet every time I walked into the shed my gut was telling me to keep it open and light. Turning the shed into a series of small, pokey, dingy, labour-intensive and costly spaces instinctively felt like the wrong approach.

Then one day it dawned on me. This was my place. I needed to make it suit me (and Cal, of course), not look glamorous like Sing Sing and suit everyone else! I didn’t want bands I don’t know working in my home studio, tracking albums from go to woe for weeks at a time. And I most certainly didn’t want to put all this energy into building a new space only to then find myself locked out of it by someone I don’t know who’s using my room for their purposes, and paying bugger all for the privilege! I’ve been there and done that. If I’m involved in an album project these days I’d rather record the bulk of the tracking in a commercial facility anyway, somewhere that’s specifically designed for that purpose. Sure, I’ll do various overdubs at home, but I don’t want to build a ‘recording’ studio – certainly not in the commercial sense of the word. The idea of the ‘production room’ (as Cal and I are now calling it) is that it be a place where music comes together, where the finishing touches are put to tracking, songs are mixed and the final product mastered.

So the path is now clear. The way we’re aiming to avoid ruining this generous space is to resist the temptation to build a conventional ‘recording studio’, which (in my mind) is loosely defined as any environment involving several rooms, complex wiring, mic stands, microphones, headphones, machine rooms and a catering officer. Now that we’ve done away with this aspiration, the space again feels instinctively big enough. The plan is now for fewer generously proportioned spaces and an environment that will, I’m sure, be a great place to work. This is our highest priority.

AND SO IT BEGINS

Before I sign off (in the hope that there’s something in this rambling diatribe that will encourage others to get their facility straight in their head before they proceed to the ‘hammering and sawing’ phase), I’d like to make one last point. If you’re intending to build a home studio, remember that it must serve you, no-one else. Otherwise I’d suggest perhaps finding a small commercial premises in which to realise your dream. I had an interesting realisation recently as we ruminated over wall construction and the amount of soundproofing we were hoping to achieve. My initial thoughts were (and have always been), “how will the sound affect the neighbours?” Down by the ocean, where the studio is situated, the background ambient noise levels are very low, far lower than in the city. This means that any sounds escaping from the shed will be far more easily heard by others than if the building were in an urban environment. And, of course, the last thing I would ever do is inflict the sounds of my work on others; no-one living around me would be too happy about the peace and quiet being disturbed by the same song played 150 times in one day. But of course, the flipside to that argument is that, in the country, everyone is further apart. So I thought, ‘well perhaps we won’t need to be as fastidious about the noise escaping from the shed as we would if we were constructing this in the city?’ And then the lightning bolt struck me: because I’m not the only one using the studio, there will be many days when it will in fact be me who’s in closest proximity to the shed, and I certainly won’t want the peace and quiet of my surroundings to be affected by the noise any more than my neighbours.

So no matter which way I look at it, one of the most fundamental aims of the construction is to effectively soundproof the space from the outside world. In the next instalment of this ongoing series (hopefully it won’t go too long!) we’ll concentrate on the ways to achieve sound isolation without it costing a small fortune, and show you how we’re approaching it. Wish us luck!

I tend to buy my audio gear the same way I buy groceries… I make a random list, which I then proceed to leave behind anyway (along with the green shopping bags) and walk into the supermarket hungry.

NEXT UP IN PART 2

In this second instalment of Andy Stewart’s home studio construction story, we don the earmuffs, safety goggles and a mask, and ‘get stuck into it’. Andy takes a ‘bullet’ for the team while Cal Orr impersonates Wile E Coyote. Somewhere in amongst it all, a studio takes shape.

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