New Dream Conspiracy (2019)
President Gas is a band exploring the limits of "three chords and the truth"—on the elusive search for the perfect song, that’s been our tagline for the last twenty or so years since we formed the band in about 1997 (we’re not quite sure of the exact birth date). The band came together initially as a covers band to blow off steam but quickly became an originals band because it turned out none of us were really that interested in playing covers, indulgent interpretations maybe but not note perfect renditions of the hits of yesterday and today.
Twenty-two years. Not the Rolling Stones by any means but still a pretty good stretch. Sadly, we also haven’t sold as many albums as The Stones, nor sold out as many stadium tours but we have managed to play and record and hangout as musicians. There’s another whole story on our live performances which range from ecstasy filled, intimate rock and roll gigs to dire corporate engagements where the punters clearly weren’t expecting a band like us. That’s for another time.
As of writing in 2019 we’ve just released our fourth album and these notes are an attempt to document the writing and recording process, and generally dive deep into the stories behind the songs. Part of the magic of buying a new LP used to be perusing the record sleeve and, hopefully, liner notes. Eagerly devouring the contents—who played on it, what instruments they used, who wrote the songs—and of course the lyrics themselves often rendered in their entirety. This provided a whole other layer of enjoyment in addition to the actual listening experience. This is perhaps an extended version of those old school liner notes.
Many people might envision a recording session as a bunch of musicians in a recording studio, playing songs together with an engineer or producer on the other side of a glass window moving faders and tweaking knobs to capture the sound and performance. That was exactly the case when I recorded with my first real band Shadow Fax back in the early eighties. We recorded and mixed our eponymous album in a couple of days at the now defunct EMI studio in Lower Hutt, guided by seasoned professionals who might have been recording an orchestra in the morning and a novice rock band like ourselves in the afternoon.
The advantage of this style of performance capture was access to the best equipment and technicians, but the trade-off was the lack of flexibility and cost. A couple of takes per song plus a few overdubs followed by a quick mix was all a band could typically afford. We were lucky that our label Jayrem was picking up the bill (and to be fair our second album Life Underground was recorded in much more relaxed style over a few weeks at Marmalade studios with producer Ian Morris behind the desk) — but it was still fast and furious with most bands leaving the studio, cassette in hand, wondering why their album didn’t sound as good as the stuff they heard on the radio.
The digital revolution of the last twenty years has changed everything: recording, mastering distribution, marketing, purchasing, listening and of course artist remuneration (Bruce Springsteen reportedly made something like $100,000 from the streaming of his entire catalogue in 2016—compare that to artist royalties on twenty million or so records back in the day!). With Spotify and other streaming services paying fractions of a cent per play even the biggest artists these days earn the majority of their income from touring, licensing and merchandising rather than record sales.
But the very same digital revolution has created enormous opportunities for musicians to be able to record and release their material to the world without the need for an intermediary like a record label to bankroll the eye watering costs involved with recording and distributing physical CD’s or records. So, the playing field is far more level than it has ever been and the old excuses no longer hold. In the meritocracy of the digital music era there’s no blaming the tin ears of the record company, or that radio refuses to play “music like ours”, or the lack of access to a global audience. Of course, with every musician on the planet releasing their own records it’s now way harder to break through the noise (i.e. noise being everyone else’s band).
Before releasing an album, you need to record it (the “product”). This is where things have improved immeasurably for musos. Growing up in a small town in the seventies I remember going to the local electrical appliance store and asking about multitrack tape recorders. I should have known better seeing as they largely sold whiteware and bicycles with the occasional three-in-one stereo on offer. Faced with blank stares I went off instead to the local library and managed to find a book on reel to reel tape recorders and the wonders of four (and, only in professional situations, eight or even sixteen) track recording. As a school kid earning about twenty dollars a week the question was not so much how to afford such a thing, as where one could find one of these mythical machines?
Fast forward (see what I did there?) to today when most musicians have access to not four, not eight, not twenty-four, but virtually an unlimited number of tracks on their laptop, iPad or device of choice. They can dial a Marshall amp simulator up to eleven in the silent privacy of their own headphones, download a digital version of a classic analog synth for an authentic eighties sound, or cut and paste sound files and collaborate with other people via the web – it is so easy! But with theoretically unlimited technical restrictions, the limitation becomes you, your imagination–your talent.
Our album New Dream Conspiracy was recorded in just this manner. Over a number of years, in different countries, and very rarely with the whole band in the same room at the same time. We use all kinds of technology to build a sound picture that represents the songs in our heads. But ultimately it comes down to the same raw ingredients it always has–good songs, good performances and good recording.
Scott Wylie May 2019