Julian and his 1962 Strat with drummer Florent Barbier and bassist
Sharron Sulami at a
May 2010 gig at the Trash Bar in New York City.
Photo by Ann ‘Arbor
How about amplification
and effects?
One of the key ingredients to
my sound is the speakers I use—Electro-Voice SROs, which I put
in everything, even that Peavey
Bandit I’ve got. Generally, I use
a silverface Fender Twin live, but
in the studio I use only small
amps, which are best for recording
since they push less air and
get more tone than larger amps.
I’ve got everything from old
Danelectros to Magnatones to a
nice blackface Fender Princeton.
I don’t use much in the way
of effects, just a Rat distortion
and Boss compression and
digital delay pedals. I’ve also
got an old Maestro Mini-Phase,
which I used as an envelope
filter on “The Funky Beat in
Siamese” from the new record.
I should mention that I played
a Danelectro baritone guitar on
that song, which was fun but
tricky—you have to use a whole
different approach than if you
were just playing guitar or bass.
Julian and Bob Quine recording “Walking on
the Water,” from the Voidoids 1977 album,
Blank Generation. Photo by Kate Simon
How would you describe that
approach?
On the baritone, it’s best to
come up with lines and patterns
that fall in the middle of the
instrument’s range. If you play
in the bottom of the range, you’ll
get in the way of the bass guitar,
and if you play high on the
neck, you might as well be playing
a guitar. It’s as if you’re in an
orchestra playing a cello, whose
range overlaps with the standup
bass and the violin.
Speaking of how things blend
together on tracks, how did
you get into recording and
engineering—and do you have
a benchmark for that work?
Julian onstage with the Voidoids in 1977. |
It all started when I heard the
snare drum on the Stones’
“Satisfaction.” The sound was
so compelling and tribal, and
I became curious about how
sounds were made. Later, when I
was with the Voidoids, I sort of
had Nick Lowe as a mentor. He
has a way of bringing unexpected
things out of musicians. Nick
had us do this pop stuff that if
anyone else tried to get us to do
we would have just told them to
go away. He understood so completely
how every instrument
works, both alone and in a band,
and had a democratic approach
to producing, as opposed to
someone coming in and saying,
“I’m the producer—the rest of
you don’t know crap.” I think
I’ve adapted a similar approach
to engineering and producing. I
never say no to what a musician
wants, no matter how crazy that
thing is, unless I know it’s absolutely
not going to work.
What’s an example of an odd
request that another producer
might reject but that you’d
accept?
When I work with Jon Spencer,
he might ask for something so
compressed that it’s all static-y
and fucked-up sounding—
sounds that most people try to
avoid. Or he might want an
odd percussive sound and I’ll
help him find it, for example,
by banging on the edge of a
Wurlitzer with a drumstick.
How would you sum up
your overall philosophy when
it comes to writing, playing,
and producing?
I say no matter what you
do, let your spleen show—give it your all.
Ivan Julian’s
Gearbox
Guitars
1962 Fender Stratocaster
with 1973 neck, assorted
vintage Teiscos, Danelectro
electric baritone,
Hanson Cigno, Gibson
Hummingbird
Amps
1970s Fender Twin
Reverb, 1960s Fender
Princeton, Peavey Bandit,
assorted Danelectros
and Magnatones
Effects
Pro Co Rat, Boss
CS-3 Compression
Sustainer, Boss DD-3
Digital Delay
Strings, Picks,
and Accessories
D’Addario XLs (.010,
.011, and .012 sets),
D’Addario Phosphor
Bronze (.012s for 6-
and 12-string guitars),
Fender medium picks,
Kyser capos