Archive for June, 2010

Review of Barefoot MicroMain27 Monitors

Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010

This review originally appeared in Tape Op Magazine.

Thomas Barefoot designed the MicroMain27 to be the only speakers one would need in a studio, functioning as detailed near fields, as loud, impressive mains with integrated sub-woofers, and (brace yourself) as mastering monitors. Barefoot began development of these speakers in the mid1990’s, when smaller studios were on the rise. Today, as big studios continue to close their doors, smaller studios are meeting the bottom line of recording budgets by affordably offering everything it takes to make a record. However, these smaller rooms are often physically and financially unable to accommodate big main monitors, or a separate mastering environment, and must rely on a single set of speakers in one room for all that they do. The MM27’s are specifically engineered for this new paradigm in which one set of speakers may have to do it all in the same room.

So, how did Barefoot go about meeting these demands? In a nutshell, he married the subwoofer to the main structure in a truly innovative way that allows one to drive these freestanding speakers to levels most near fields can not handle. Similarly, the marriage of the subwoofers to the main cabinet takes them closer to many mastering monitor designs. Each speaker contains two ten-inch woofers, mounted on the sides, and the motor structures are locked together, internally canceling each other’s forces. This design stabilizes the cabinet, even under the 500 watts of power delivered to the subwoofers alone. The tweeter is a one-inch soft-dome driven by 125 watts, and the mids consist of two five-inch, front-mounted speakers driven by 250 watts. (for crossover points, frequency response, and other technical info, please go to www.barefootsound.com). Indeed, the MM27’s can get quite loud, and they deliver low-end content that reaches down to the deepest frequencies.

It may take some time to get used to the sonic information coming your way when you first check out a pair of MM27’s, so I encourage anyone who tries them to take some time getting used to the experience, especially the low frequencies. Ironically, listening to records you know well may create the most confusion. Unlike a separate mono subwoofer, the MM27’s set the sub frequencies directly into the stereo sound field, and present that information on the same horizontal plain as the highest of frequencies. At first, I felt as if I was gazing down into a sonic abyss in which large serpents of sinuous low-end lurked. Records I thought I knew well seemed to reveal their true nature, sometimes boomy, sometimes thin, sometimes absolutely beautiful. More than anything, I was struck by how unique each record sounded, and I have come to trust that what I was hearing was the individual character of the records, and not the character of the speakers. It wasn’t always an enjoyable experience to listen on the MM27’s, which was a fine discovery, since what we’re looking for in a studio monitor is accuracy. All of this detailed information should prove invaluable for making records.

While tracking with the MM27’s, I quickly realized what all that accuracy could do for me. I use the MM27’s in an open-concept studio (Mavericks Studio in Manhattan), and go instantly between hearing an instrument in the room, and then through the speakers. Never before have instruments sounded more like the real thing than on the Barefoots, and the guess-work of what was happening in the lowest of the lows was replaced by being able to quickly and confidently make choices in how I mic-ed and eq-ed. The ability to monitor at higher volume helped me and the musicians feel the instruments on playback in a way that they felt when played live, especially the drums. To hear a kick drum coming back at you just as it sounded live off the floor inspires a great deal of confidence. You need volume for that, and the Barefoots deliver. Still, I’ve yet to distort the MM27’s, and fear the SPL’s that would require.

Switching over to NS-10’s at whisper volume for a “reality check” did give me some old-paradigm reassurance. For me, whatever I heard on the Barefoots was represented on the NS-10’s in a way that made me say, “Ok, we’re good.” I’ve come to trust that if my mix sounds good on the Barefoots, it’ll translate to the NS-10’s, which, in turn, will translate outside the studio. But do I really need the NS-10’s to confirm that? Probably not. It has been good to have the NS-10’s around for folks who only trust the harsh truth of the white cones, and I can imagine that people who have been burned by “really amazing expensive speakers” might not trust the Barefoots at first. However, I am convinced that if the music sounds good on the MM27’s, that’s because the music sounds good, not the speakers. This is the exact same thing I’d say about NS-10’s, and is the same reason those speakers are still ubiquitous in this industry.

The differences between mics and preamps were stark on the MM27’s. With a guitar amp in the iso-booth for overdubs, I heard the difference between an SM57 and a Royer ribbon mic like never before. Similarly, a preamp shoot-out for a muted trumpet through a Coles 4038 revealed changes in the raspy textural details that were easily audible to everyone in the room, assuring us of the value of the time spent on the shoot-out. A particular ride-cymbal generated an electrical ringing in a mic-pre. This was an obvious tone when heard through the Barefoots, but was harder to hear on the NS-10’s. In general, sonic artifacts imparted by the signal path that I would have previously thought subtler seemed to leap out of the Barefoots more obviously. I’ve heard others say that they work faster on the Barefoots, and I’d have to agree that the choices before me were a bit more obvious, and therefore I made my decisions more quickly.

While mixing on the MM27’s, most of the attributes we normally seek in a speaker were impressive; stereo placement, depth of field, reverb tails, and quarter db level changes were all represented with astonishing detail. I have no complaints in these areas, and feel that whatever Thomas Barefoot did to time-align the tweeters, mids and subs was nothing short of brilliant. These speakers simply deliver a ton of information.

What feels truly different is the detail of the harmonic relationships between sounds at different frequencies. I had the privilege of recording a record with pianist Rachel Z, who brought a Fazioli piano into Mavericks. This instrument was designed and built to generate complex harmonic structures with the utmost clarity, and listening to it through Rachel’s ears was like entering the twelfth dimension of harmonic awareness. By mixing relative levels between the pair of Soundelux 251’s that were on the harp and the Royer 121 stereo ribbon that sat just outside the hood, we could balance the harmonic overtones that best suited the key of the song and the area of the keyboard she was playing. What interested me most was her insistence on the importance of frequencies below 40hrz, not so much for their own sake, but for the ways that these lower order harmonics interact with their sonic cousins at higher frequencies. Apparently the Fazioli was the first piano on which she could truly manipulate those harmonic relationships, and I felt confident that the Barefoots were helping us hear these relationships as accurately as possible. Like the kick drum, the translation of this piano from live to recorded was inspiring. I have since begun to re-examine the purpose of sub frequencies vis-à-vis their harmonic relationship to upper frequencies, and now rely on the MM27’s stereo subwoofers to even begin to make these considerations worthwhile.

Self-mastering is a can of worms I don’t really want to open here, but we can’t deny that, for better or worse, it is a growing phenomenon. Part of the logic behind the Barefoot design seems to be that if you can hear the full frequency bandwidth with the utmost sonic detail while tracking and mixing, then, when it’s time to master your record, there should be less to do. It never did make sense to wait until the final stage to really hear what’s going on, only to regret choices, or guesses, made along the way to mastering. Of course, it’s not a new thing to desire mastering-grade monitoring in a tracking and mixing studio, or for a speaker company to advertise that they have finally achieved it. Suffice it to say that, should an engineer decide to master his or her own work, I’d prefer to know that this person used the MM27’s in a carefully measured and tuned room. The low-end information alone is worth the price of admission if you’re going to master where you mix.

I’ve taken two sets of mixes done on the MM27’s at Mavericks to two different mastering studios, and each time the mixes translated alarmingly accurately, even down to the lowest frequencies. This was enormously encouraging, and helped me to better understand what the role of the mastering engineer would be for each project, and which mixes would act as the guideposts for the final sound of the whole record. Both at Peerless Mastering in Boston and at Jigsaw Sound in Manhattan, I was thrilled to hear my mixes sound like my mixes; it’s such an easier place to start from than when I’ve had to explain how my mixes sounded “back in the studio.” So, even if you don’t use the MM27’s for mastering your own work, these speakers can help you get your mixes closer to the final sound, which certainly helps the mastering engineer understand your goals and vision, which is undoubtedly crucial.

A few other notes about the MM27’s: there is a switch on the back that will gently change the frequency response, lowering the mids a touch, and adding a hint of bass.  This setting is audible, but not enormously obvious. I have preferred the accuracy of the speakers when left flat, but some people have requested this eq switch, perhaps to make the speakers more listenable when not doing critical work on them. Also, with the higher volume and sonic detail, I expected to experience ear fatigue with the MM27’s, but after a few sixteen-hour days of tracking and mixing, I didn’t experience ear fatigue anything close to what I feel when working on NS-10’s. Somehow the Barefoots are both honest and gentle. Lastly, the MM27’s can be mounted either vertically or, using the included pedestal, horizontally. At sixty-two pounds each, that’s a good option to have.

If you need a speaker that can do it all, I don’t know of any company that makes similar claims for their product. At the same time, if you’re simply on the quest for a pair of speakers that are going to help you hear even more of what’s going on in your recordings, it would, at this point in time, be pretty hard to beat the Barefoots. While the price isn’t exactly low ($6500 street), when you consider the possibility of the MM27’s playing the triple-role of near field, main, and mastering speaker, their price tag begins to make some sense. As a final note, it’s inspiring that Thomas Barefoot boldly put his vision into action, and hasn’t been afraid to take risks with his forward-thinking designs as the world of making records continues to change. These speakers are true marvels, and even the most seasoned engineers I know who have tried them says the same thing. I don’t think it would be an overstatement to say that the Barefoot MM27’s have set a new standard for studio monitors.

Making Spaces that Produce Performances – David Byrne’s TED Lecture

Tuesday, June 15th, 2010

In his excellent TED Lecture, David Byrne says that we write and perform music to fit into the spaces we know we will be in. Those spaces include the outdoors, enormous churches, CBGB’s and sports arenas. Byrne speaks of reverberation as one of the key factors determining how complex and how quick music can be. Mozart wrote “frilly” and complicated compositions that for small chambers where all the details would remain in tact.  U2 writes medium tempo rock ballads that very carefully and deliberately change key for enormous sports arenas where any more detail would render as clutter. He gives many examples that prove the point.

With its endless reverb choices, modern recording allows us to build whatever kind of space we like. Byrne uses Chet Baker’s “My Funny Valentine” as an example of how the microphone created a new, previously impossible, venue. Baker’s recording is dry and close, and every detail can be heard, right down to each breath, consonant rasp and vowel shape. Byrne says “It’s as if he’s whispering into your ear,” and that’s because, effectively, he is.

To achieve this effect we record the singer very close to a very sensitive microphone, and then we make sure the reverb effect gives the impression that the singer is right next to us. This production technique builds an intimacy that’s almost impossible to have with anyone in the real world unless you’re lovers sharing pillow talk.

Baker’s song is a great example, and countless other examples come to mind, including Johnny Cash’s American Recordings, Bob Dylan’s Time Out of Mind, The National’s High Violet, Daniel Lanois’ Shine, Nina Simone’s Wild is the Wind, Sigur Ros’ ( ), Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Neil Young’s Harvest, Springsteen’s Nebraska, Radiohead’s Kid A and Beck’s Sea Change. What’s interesting is that most of these albums are considered high-water marks in these musicians’ careers; they are the albums on which the singer-songwriter made an artistic statement that seems to have had an initially challenging, but ultimately timeless, impact. Many are considered masterpieces.

If you consider the vocal approach of the records that preceded these, the vocal technique is often more bombastic – perhaps not intensely so, but there’s a difference. For me this has always seemed as if the artist is finally opening up, as if the courtship has ended and now we’re going to really get to know this person. You know that moment: you’re getting to know someone and they fall into a hushed voice and say, “Hey, can I tell you something? It’s kind of personal.” That’s what these records are like, and part of how they achieve it is to use the microphone technique and production style Byrne describes in Baker’s famous recording.

Of course the music is integral, but one can think of the music of many of these records as the sonic equivalent of the artist’s private space. These are intentionally uncluttered, small spaces where whispering can be heard. Many of us are taken in by the fact that we’re in this private space (wow, it’s like I’m in his bedroom!), but in the end I believe the artist creates these seemingly private spaces so that we can hear them when they whisper intimately in our ears. It takes a lot of guts to record this way, and I’ve seen more than a few singers literally squirm while first trying it out. But the gutsy moves really pay off artistically.

Watch the TED Lecture – it’s excellent. And if you can think of other examples, please share them.