050/ Arguing in favour of an error

I’m producing a new record by the brilliant, under-appreciated Kent songwriter Tom Williams (of …And The Boat fame) and I find myself in the strange position of arguing for an ‘error’ to stay on the recording.

I’ll lose of course, and that’s fine, but it’s a fascinating place to find oneself — and it’s made me think a lot about that classic heart vs. head quandary, in this kind of creative ‘supportive’ work.

This is the seventh full-length Tom Williams record (he’s done three solo, three with The Boat) and it’s his first LP for a long while, with Tom having been through some major life shifts in the gap between albums. The material is gorgeous and often (gently) heavyweight, big ‘difficult’ topics dug into, though Tom has a light touch as a songwriter, so it never gets dense enough to undercut the flow of things.

I have the honour of sitting in what you might call the ‘producer’s chair’ — though in fact that’s a range of chairs, sofas and occasionally piano stools in the studio control room. It’s been a blast, so far.

I’ll write properly in detail about making this album (and the team Tom has assembled) when we’re finished and it’s due out, probably timed to help promote it, etc.

But Tom has launched a Ko-Fi and he’s now fundraising in various ways — you can donate, subscribe, and pre-order the album in various formats.

For me, this was always going to be a chewy (in a good way) challenge — to take on a production role for music by someone with a lot of experience, strong, clear ideas about what they need, and already a head for (and understand of how to achieve) sonic detail. Tom’s classic songwriter knowledge is exhaustive and he teaches kids guitar and songwriting, so his craft skills are always kept sharply hewn. But to add to that, we decamped to Tim from Keane’s beautiful Sea Fog Studios in rural Sussex, which is a much posher space than I’m used to working in.

So if my role is, for example, to help cohere Tom's core ideas and help everything feel good and ‘right’, but then as soon as we open up a recording channel on anything, whatever the noise is, it already sounds bloody incredible — literally the first moment we heard the drums through big control room speakers it was immense — then, at least at first, I didn’t have the faintest idea how and where to begin tweaking! I was overawed for a bit and it took an effort of will and self-confidence to catch up to the base level.

(Luckily there’s some post-it notes in the studio of a certain shade of green, so I’ve enjoyed writing ‘brat’ on them, sticking them up at random. That sorts out my mojo.)

Anyway, later on, we got to some stripped-down all-acoustic songs, with Tom recording fully live guitar and voice takes — no click tracks or guides — aiming to capture complete singular performances. And we met the most solo of all the solo songs, a gem called ‘Late Mornings’, which is a song of exhaustion: I dream of late mornings, and sun behind curtains, and everyone sleeping, a week’s clothes across the floor...

Tom’s first take is astonishing. Something in its atmosphere pitches perfect. He does five or six more takes and they’re strong, but that first take has the intense magic of live music captured in essence with — somehow — the mood utterly bang on.

However, it also has a moment, what you might call an ‘error’, after the first line of the chorus: Tom briefly half-stops and asks quietly, almost to himself, am I in the right key?

Realising he is, he breathes in, carries on. And now, in Tom’s head, this is not quite a ‘take’. At the very end of the song, he doesn’t even hold the final chord — he doesn’t let his guitar ring out into silence like you do on a proper take. He just mutes it, casually. From the moment of that ‘error’ Tom was consciously performing a run through, a practice, getting used to himself.

Perhaps it’s that very sense of it ‘not being a real take’ that creates a breathtaking something about the run through as a whole.

Conventionally, now we'd do one of a couple of things: mainly, we’d choose a different take. If there isn’t a better take to be found, we'd keep as much of this gorgeous first take as possible, and cover up the ‘error’ by cutting in a couple of brief moments from other takes. This is easier with a click track, where the rhythm is locked into a fixed time. However Tom is a pretty consistent player and singer, so even without clicks, it’ll be perfectly possible. Then also, we can drop in a complete final guitar chord on top of that muted one, at the end. And that’s your complete track.

Also, we have time, there’s no rush, there’s no label deadline, at this point. So Tom could well come back in January, have a few more bashes at the same song and sing it even better.

Except, except, except, except…

Reader, I’m in love with this first take. Including the ‘error’. Especially the ‘error’! In fucking love with it. There’s something immutable and golden about that brief pause and the teeny moment of self-doubt and the deep breath and then ploughing on — and it all being just brilliant (god, I’m starting to sound like Anton Du Bec) that gets me, more than if the error wasn’t there.

And therein lies so much about what the makes art great. What makes the craft of recording so rewarding and complicated. How what the artist does becomes a different thing to what the audience consumes, in and of each moment. That old myth of perfection. Artifice and craft and a balance of heart and head. The order of being notionally ‘correct', versus the chaos of capturing a thing, right there.

If you have ‘God', then I swear ‘God' is sitting right there in that moment of hesitation.

Of course the issue is, leaving an error like that is too jarring: it places the listener somewhere slightly incorrect. Especially the civilian listener, who isn’t so bothered about music recording and just wants to enjoy an album. That listener is briefly taken out of the fiction or, more precisely, the emotional traction of the song. So then that listener has to regather themself, and pick up again from scratch. In this case, midway through the first chorus. Make an actual effort to re-focus. It could be said to dilute the whole, or even weaken the narrative. It’s a breaking of the fourth wall, yet not a deliberate one.

So I lose the argument (gracefully, of course!) — and fair play to that.

But even better, I was in the room when it happened and I have a copy for myself, lurking right here on my hard drive, of the perfection of the error. I just played it again having written this — and it’s as dementedly perfect — for me — as ever.

Maybe I'll persuade Tom to make it available as a bonus thing for subscribers later, or something like that.

Here’s that link again: if you’re interested, please do check out Tom Williams via Ko-Fi. It’s going to be a killer record.

In the past month I’ve worked on three different albums, in different roles each time, I’m in serious discussions over three more and toured two entirely different (albeit short) live sets that had nothing to do with any of these records. I’ve even written a couple of songs of my own that I don’t hate! Sorry if this comes off smug but nothing beats a creative life. Nothing.

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Commoners Choir sing the Ramones

The wonderful Leeds-based radical choir Commoners Choir has joined forces with West Yorkshire Symphony Orchestra for an EP of Ramones songs on 10” vinyl. It’s conducted by Nick Meredith, with the orchestra and choir performing smashing arrangements by Boff Whalley and Liz Lister. This is brilliant work, far beyond just the clever, offbeat idea. It even feels oddly festive. A huge recommend from me as an unexpected gift for the vinyl-enjoying Ramones fan (or interesting choir fan) in your life.

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Taylor’s billion

Found myself wondering casually today if Taylor Swift's billion is history’s first and only ever “honestly earnt” billion. Obviously in the cold light of the world, I appreciate that is (A) a gross over-romanticisation (B) neglects indirect injustices further down the food chain of many aspects of any major world tour and (C) is far too accepting of capitalist realism.

Yet still: Swift made the money from music itself, namely album, ticket and merch sales. She did so in a remarkably short space of time, tied to the unique, unprecedented success of one single long world tour, the Eras Tour. Nobody has done that before. I can’t really think of any other billion ‘earnt’ by creativity in this manner. She didn't make it (in any significant sense) from branded perfume or skincare ranges or unconnected business dealings, nor did she make it from wider investments over time. I could get into the weeds on how generous an employer she’s been, but that’s not the point. Also, Eras only just (finally!) finished, this week.

So for me, though Swift may easily turn out to be like every other billionaire in the world — a leech, hoarding resources that should be properly shared — I think she does deserve a (short) window of grace time, now that her touring schedule is over, to decide what she’ll do about her accruing of excess, before we include her on the lengthening list of legitimate targets.

icymi —

• Fantastic (almost ‘music theatre’ vibes) choreo for this medley of Doechii bangers on Stephen Colbert’s Late Show.

• Check out Franz Nicolay’s terrific newsletter Piano Fighter.

• Laura Marling solo set for Other Voices in Dingle, pro-shot.

• The new Bryan Adams and Sporty Spice… it’s Rosé and Bruno Mars smashing their hit ‘APT’ at the Mama Awards.

• I love this video by Mic The Snare telling the story of ‘Tiny Desk’ from a sound design point-of-view. Those sessions are so beautifully recorded.

• Pre-order White Magic For Lovers’ gorgeous debut LP The Book of Lies from their Chord Orchard Bandcamp.

• BBC Breakfast piece on Band Aid 40, including an interview with Fuse ODG (from six minutes) who does a great job presenting his measured critique.

• Transa is a huge new comp from Red Hot, campaigning for trans rights and visibility. Here’s a Spotify link, it’s also a four disc vinyl set.

• Maggie Rogers interviewed by Tom Power on his Q talk show channel.

Thank you for reading, it means a lot.

Get in touch: doublechorus@substack.com

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