Making Records: The Scenes Behind the Music by Phil Ramone Read Free Book Online Page A

especially effective when they’re heard at the beginning of a song; if you can come up with something spicy and unique, you’ve got a better chance of getting (and holding) the audience’s attention.
    Think of a pop or rock song that gets your adrenaline flowing: one with such an exciting feel that once you hear it, the melody and the sound of the record become emblazoned in your memory. The Beatles’ “Drive My Car,” The Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t It Be Nice,” Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” Bruce Springsteen’s “Hungry Heart,” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” are a few good examples.
    One of the greatest thrills for a producer is helping the artist find a hook to define their record. Sometimes all that’s needed is a simple twist of instrumentation, or a subtle effect to turn a lackluster opening into something extraordinary. Often, the intrinsic style of a special guest artist, or a top-flight session player can spur unexpected moments of greatness.
    Remember the drum cadence at the beginning of Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”?
    The way we stumbled upon it was a happy accident.
    On the day we tracked the band track for “50 Ways” Paul was in the control room, strumming the melody on his guitar. He’d been playing around with a Rhythm Ace electronic drum machine, and had found a samba beat that he thought would work for the song.
    Out in the studio, Steve Gadd was warming up. Following his usual prerecording routine, he began playing a drum corps–style street beat, the precision of which was compelling. Paul heard the nagging rhythm through the open door, and stopped playing hisguitar. He went out into the studio. “That’s good, Steve,” he said. “Play it again.” As Gadd tapped away on the snare, Paul grabbed his guitar and began singing over the melody. It was a stunning combination, and Paul was delighted. “Phil, I think we just found a way to start the song!”
    In that moment the personality of “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” changed. Steve’s happenstance contribution was a driving force that helped push the single to number one on Billboard ’s Hot 100 chart; Still Crazy After All These Years —the record on which it appeared—won the Grammy for Album of the Year (1976).
    As “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” shows, you can’t predict what will happen as you begin working on a tune, and I’ve found that the best performances often come during the first few minutes of a session while everyone is warming up.
    Catching those serendipitous moments is easy if you follow one of my cardinal rules: Start rolling a tape the moment an artist walks through the door.

    With Paul Simon in 1976, receiving the Grammy for the album Still Crazy After All These Years Phil Ramone Collection
    In the analog days I recorded more two-inch multitrack tape than most producers, and the record companies never understoodwhy. I’d laugh when label executives were annoyed that I used ten rolls of tape instead of five. “Tape is the cheapest commodity on the date,” I’d say.
    At the very least, I would always keep a two-track stereo recorder running throughout a session. In recent years those tapes have become valuable; the labels now scramble to include the session chatter and alternate takes as bonus tracks on CDs and downloadable reissues.
    I rarely stop a take when someone blunders; what might seem like a mistake to a musician playing in the studio could actually be a chance moment of brilliance. What I tell the artist is, “If you make a mistake, keep going—don’t interrupt the flow.” If the rest of the performance is incredible, we’ll do another take and splice the best parts of each together.
    Because they were recorded live and the songs went through many permutations as the band worked to define—and redefine—their design, many of Billy Joel’s recordings contain small, fortuitous miscues. We often left such missteps in, as Billy and I both felt they