
Whether Barney Kessel intervened to get his guitar into Bruce Forman’s hands is a matter of one’s belief in the supernatural, but it certainly seems as if it was meant to be.
As a protégé of the jazz legend, Forman spent a lot of time with his mentor’s Gibson ES-350. He’s now the owner of that instrument and is paying tribute on a fun and fantastically swinging album.
“Does an instrument really contain or possess a part of the person’s soul who plays it?” ponders guitarist Bruce Forman. “Probably not … I don’t believe in that shit.”
With his ever-present cowboy hat, and radiating a mustachioed grin, it’s hard not to get swept up in Forman’s skepticism-laced enthusiasm for the question. He’s been meditating on the idea since May 2020, when he purchased the Gibson ES-350 that belonged to his mentor, the one and only Barney Kessel. “The instruments can tell stories,” Forman preaches. “The instruments can tie generations together and they can bring people together. That’s basically what our soul is.”
If any guitar has a soul, Kessel’s guitar is it. Despite popular—and snazzily outfitted—signature models that were once offered by Gibson, Kay, and Airline, he stuck by his beloved ES-350, playing it almost exclusively on stage and in the studio. In one short YouTube video, “Barney Kessel talks about his guitar” (an excerpt from the DVD Barney Kessel: Rare Performances 1962-1991), he speaks briefly about what makes his ES-350 so special, pointing out the “high-quality” cobalt and copper in its 1939 Charlie Christian pickup, highlighting its bridge, which he says was made custom “along the principles of a fine violin bridge,” and praising the exceptionalism of the replacement knobs he took off a record player. Off camera, an interviewer asks Kessel how he feels when he plays this guitar, and he responds, “Pretty close to being in heaven.”
Kessel’s career was nothing short of legendary. In addition to his extensive and exemplary work at the forefront of the jazz world, where he advanced technical expectations and the vocabulary of the instrument, his membership in the Wrecking Crew found him recording countless pop hits and film soundtracks, making him one of the most recorded guitarists of all time. Given his close affection for his ES-350, it’s probably not overstated to say that the sound of this very guitar is embedded into our collective consciousness, which makes it a treasure.
But for Forman, the ES-350 is so much more than that. It’s a living artifact of his mentor.
“Barney was really funny. He had a great sense of humor, and so did Ray and Shelley. They could have been standup comedians.
Putting On the Gloves
Forman’s relationship with Kessel goes back to the mid-1970s. The Texas-born guitarist was a jazz-obsessed teen, which he says made him a bit of a “Mr. Magoo” once his family moved to San Francisco, where he was disinterested by the city’s thriving rock ’n’ roll culture. Rather, he attended jazz concerts and workshops frequently enough that Kessel began to take notice. Forman was eventually able to impress the older guitarist with his playing, and by 1978, Kessel hired the young devotee, who was just 21 or 22 years old.
“The first official gig where I was hired to play with him was in San Francisco,” he explains. “We played duo, then we both played solo, then there was a rhythm section, so we’d each play a trio tune. Then, he chose me to go on the road with him for a European tour of established master and upstart young guy—that was a big thing in the ’70s and ’80s.”
Kessel didn’t just choose Forman because he was a young talent that he wanted to support. He was looking for a sparring partner, and Forman had proven himself a worthy adversary. “When you play with him, it’s like a knife fight. He’s there to compete in a very cutthroat manner,” says Forman. “He wants to win, even though he appreciates you when you play great. He doesn’t want to make you play bad, but he wants to push it to the edge of his ability.” Forman insists he rose to the occasion and says, “It wasn’t easy for him, and I got him a couple of times. I knew what we were doing, and I was there for it. I think he liked that about me, as much as he might have hated me a couple of moments in the middle of it.”
TIDBIT: While Forman and company would have loved to work in the studio where the Poll Winners recorded their albums, the Contemporary Records building in Los Angeles no longer exists. Instead, they chose guitarist/producer Josh Smith’s Flat V Studio, in San Fernando Valley, and found photos of the original sessions in order to approximate miking techniques.
The two remained close as Forman’s career blossomed. Soon, he was playing alongside other jazz legends such as Dizzy Gillespie, Ray Brown, Oscar Peterson, Freddie Hubbard, Bobby Hutcherson, and Shelly Manne, simultaneously building an extensive discography, which includes releases on the Muse and Concord labels. He also became a committed educator through his work as a professor at University of Southern California’s Thornton School of Music, where he’s become a mentor to countless students—most notably guitarist Molly Miller.
In 1992, Kessel—who was born in 1923—suffered a stroke that left him unable to play. Forman says that he would visit him and his wife, Phyllis, at their San Diego home and he would play the ES-350 for them. “Phyllis would bring it out. I don’t know if Barney really wanted me to play it for him,” he remembers. “He had a stroke and it was hard to read his emotions. She really wanted to hear it, and she wanted me to make sure it wasn’t falling apart sitting in the case.”
After Kessel passed in 2004, Forman continued to visit Phyllis and the ES-350. It was on one of these occasions that he had the notion to pay tribute to his mentor. “I had this idea that we should re-visit the Poll Winners with this guitar,” he explains.
“When you play with him, it’s like a knife fight. He’s there to compete in a very cutthroat manner.”
Then, There Were Three
In 1957, Kessel, bassist Ray Brown, and drummer Shelley Manne were at the top of their game and topping the jazz polls that appeared in the magazines DownBeat, Playboy, and Metronome. Confidently assuming the band name the Poll Winners, the trio recorded a series of five albums for Contemporary Records, the first four of which—The Poll Winners, Ride Again!, Poll Winners Three, and The Poll Winners Exploring the Scene—appeared between 1957 and ’60 and helped to usher in the popularization of guitar/bass/drums jazz-trio instrumentation.
“We have to realize those records were Earth shattering,” Forman enthuses. “Before that, there may have been some guitar/bass/drums bands, but not that I know of in the history of jazz. The guitar was in a band with multiple guitars, like Django or George Barnes, or it was in a vibes and bass kind of trio, like Red Norvo and Benny Goodman, or they were in with a piano, like Oscar Peterson or Nat Cole or Ahmad Jamal. The guitar/bass/drums … our instrument had not really grown to that level of responsibility and maturity in jazz.”
The heart of Forman’s concept for a tribute record was that the three Poll Winners’ instruments would be played by their protégés, all of whom were friends and collaborators. “John Clayton, who’s a Ray Brown protégé, has Ray’s bass. I knew that Monterey Jazz Festival had a set of Shelley’s drums, and I knew a guy in Portland who had a set of Shelley’s drums, and Jeff Hamilton, the reason he’s in L.A. is because Shelley brought him to take over [for him] in the L.A. Four. And I played in the trio with Ray and Jeff.”
Bruce Forman’s Gear
The trio that recorded Reunion!, from left to right: Bruce Forman and Kessel’s ES-350, drummer Jeff Hamilton, and bassist John Clayton.
Guitars
- 1946 Gibson ES-350 formerly belonging to and modified by Barney Kessel
Strings and Picks
- D’Addario Chromes flatwounds (.014–.018–.026w–.035–.045–.056)
- Dunlop Primetone 1.0 mm picks
Amps
- Gibson BR-3
- Henriksen Bud TEN
- Morgan JS12 Josh Smith Signature
But this tribute project would require a big favor from Phyllis Kessel, since Forman didn’t actually own his mentor’s guitar. “She said, ‘Boy, that’s great,’ but when she realized I had to take the guitar and play on it for a while, and probably get it set up, that was not cool. She wanted it totally in her possession.”
Eventually, Phyllis decided to sell the ES-350, and Forman suggested the auction house that handled the sale. “We both believed that it was extremely valuable. I didn’t want anything to do with it because I didn’t trust myself. Who knows how that could cloud my judgement in terms of getting the best thing for her,” he explains. But in 2018, the guitar sold for just a fraction of what either of them expected, purchased by “a guy from Oklahoma who loved Charlie Christian,” just like Kessel.
Forman and the buyer soon became email pals, sharing their affection for Kessel’s music. But between maintaining a regular gigging schedule and his teaching job at USC, Forman has a full plate, so he put the idea of the Poll Winners tribute to rest.
“We have to realize those records were Earth shattering.”
A Visit From a Ghost
Everything about this project changed in April 2021, when Forman swears he had a visitation from beyond:“I was playing at the Kuumbwa Jazz Center in Santa Cruz, and I’m driving up there and, I swear to God I’m not bullshitting, there was a moment when he [Kessel] was sitting there next to me. I couldn’t see him—this wasn’t a hallucination. I could just feel his presence. I could even smell his after-shave. He wore this kind of weird cologne shit. The whole drive up there, I’m thinking about Barney. I can’t shake it—didn’t even want to listen to music because I was too deep in all these memories. I get to the club, and I realize I played here with Barney about 35 years ago, but meanwhile I’ve played that club dozens and dozens of times, and I’d never once thought of Barney.
“I get inside of the club, and I still can’t shake Barney. He’s just there. So, I email the guy who had the guitar and said, ‘I’m having this heavy Barney Kessel flashback. I’m in this club we played years ago. Hope you’re getting along with the guitar. If you ever want to let it go, please let me get first crack.’ That’s all I said.
While Kessel’s ES-350 and Gibson BR-3 amplifier show plenty of signs of wear, they sound alive as ever on Reunion!
Photo by Patrick Tregenza
“Went up and played my set, came back, looked at my emails and I had gotten an email from him, and he said, ‘Bruce, it’s amazing you contacted me now. I just decided it’s probably best for me to sell the guitar. I don’t want to leave it for my wife or my kids. It’s too weird a thing to leave it to somebody else to have to deal with. The reason I bought it in the first place was to keep it from going into the hands of a collector who would take it out of circulation. So, I’d really love for someone like you who had a connection to Barney to have it. If you just give me what I paid for it, if you come and get it, and if you give me a guitar lesson, you could have it.’”
Two weeks later, Forman was headed to Colorado to pick up the guitar. When he returned home, Forman shot his own video with Barney’s guitar (which can be found in the Kickstarter page for the Reunion! project). As he goes over the details of the guitar, we get an up-close look at the finer details and see how it has changed over time. Kessel made extensive alterations to the instrument through the years, from replacing the fretboard and tuners, to painting the headstock black when he “went to war with Gibson.” The trapeze piece is rusty, as is the over-sized replacement jack plate that may be supporting the guitar’s significantly cracked sides. Hearing Forman play it, the ES-350 is alive as ever. It’s a bright and responsive instrument, and the always-smiling guitarist seems to approach every note and chord with pure joy. (There’s plenty of evidence on Forman’s Instagram, too, where he documents his “first chorus of the day.”)
“There was a moment when he [Kessel] was sitting there next to me. I couldn’t see him—this wasn’t a hallucination. I could just feel his presence.”]
The Reunion! Sessions
By the summer, Forman, John Clayton, and Jeff Hamilton headed into guitarist Josh Smith’s Flat V Studio with their respective mentor’s instruments. Forman even brought Kessel’s Gibson BR-3 amp, which a friend gave him as a gift (though he also used a Henriksen Bud TENand a Morgan JS12). They wanted to pay tribute to, but not re-hash, the Poll Winners albums. “It’s a tribute but it’s not a tribute in the way most people do tributes. It’s really more like kids getting together playing their parents’ instruments,” says Forman.
Rather than taking the most obvious route and covering tunes on the original albums, the trio looked for a more personal way to evoke their mentors. Throughout his arrangement of Kurt Weill’s “This Is New,” Forman uses the intro figure that Kessel played on “Cry Me a River,” which he recorded with vocalist Julie London, as a recurring motif. Forman says that’s “probably the most famous thing he did.” His “Barney’s Tune” is an original based upon the jazz standard “Bernie’s Tune,” where he uses sliding harmonized thirds to recall Kessel’s style. The sole entry on Reunion! that also appeared on The Poll Winners is the jazz standard “On Green Dolphin Street.” But even on that track, Forman takes a different approach, injecting it with the feel of the once-omnipresent guitar showpiece “Malagueña.”
Kessel’s guitar’s case still wears this hand-written luggage tag from its former owner.
Photo by Patrick Tregenza
“Barney was really funny. He had a great sense of humor, and so did Ray and Shelley,” Forman says, and laughs. “They could have been stand-up comedians. And a lot of times in the music, they do silly, funny-ass shit [like that] that was just really cool.”
While the loose and playful feeling of the Poll Winners is always part of the music on Reunion!, Forman’s personality and musical voice plays the biggest role. He’s a fiery player whose deft, energetic chording propels the songs with swinging style, while his zesty melodic lines fly off the fretboard. Much like Kessel, he plays from the gut with a palpable sense of enthusiastic glee. And while Kessel is, obviously, a huge influence, Forman’s playing also reveals a love for his favorites, Charlie Parker and Count Basie. At this point in his long career, though, he mostly just sounds like himself. Hearing him play on Kessel’s gear, the tone of the ES-350 incorporates so well with his style and it just seems to make sense.
”As Forman tells it, that’s what Barney knew all those years ago: “On one of the first days of one of the first tours [with Kessel], he said, ‘Do you ever wonder why I picked you?’ And I said ‘yeah.’ I could name four or five guys I would have expected him to pick. He said, ‘I picked you because you play the way I play, but you don’t sound like me.’ Which is kind of cryptic, you know?” he laughs. “But I got it—he’s right.”
YouTube It!
Hear Barney Kessel’s guitar in Bruce Forman’s hands, live in the studio during the making of Reunion! The trio expertly navigates the tune “Feel the Barn” with dynamic, swinging interplay, led by Forman’s bright, clear tone and melody-first approach to improvisation and harmony.
Reader: T. Moody
Hometown: Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Guitar: The Green Snake
Reader T. Moody turned this Yamaha Pacifica body into a reptilian rocker.
With a few clicks on Reverb, a reptile-inspired shred machine was born.
With this guitar, I wanted to create a shadowbox-type vibe by adding something you could see inside. I have always loved the Yamaha Pacifica guitars because of the open pickup cavity and the light weight, so I purchased this body off Reverb (I think I am addicted to that website). I also wanted a color that was vivid and bold. The seller had already painted it neon yellow, so when I read in the description, “You can see this body from space,” I immediately clicked the Buy It Now button. I also purchased the neck and pickups off of Reverb.
I have always loved the reverse headstock, simply because nothing says 1987 (the best year in the history of the world) like a reverse headstock. The pickups are both Seymour Duncan—an SH-1N in the neck position and TB-4 in the bridge, both in a very cool lime green color. Right when these pickups got listed, the Buy It Now button once again lit up like the Fourth of July. I am a loyal disciple of Sperzel locking tuners and think Bob Sperzel was a pure genius, so I knew those were going on this project even before I started on it. I also knew that I wanted a Vega-Trem; those units are absolutely amazing.
When the body arrived, I thought it would be cool to do some kind of burst around the yellow so I went with a neon green. It turned out better than I imagined. Next up was the shaping and cutting of the pickguard. I had this crocodile-type, faux-leather material that I glued on the pickguard and then shaped to my liking. I wanted just a single volume control and no tone knob, because, like King Edward (Van Halen) once said, “Your volume is your tone.”
T. Moody
I then shaped and glued the faux-leather material in the cavity. The tuning knobs, volume knob, pickguard, screws, and selector switch were also painted in the lemon-lime paint scheme. I put everything together, installed the pickups, strung it up, set it up, plugged it in, and I was blown away. I think this is the best-playing and -sounding guitar I have ever tried.
The only thing missing was the center piece and strap. The latter was easy because DiMarzio makes their ClipLock in neon green. The center piece was more difficult because originally, I was thinking that some kind of gator-style decoration would be cool. In the end, I went with a green snake, because crocodiles ain’t too flexible—and they’re way too big to fit in a pickup cavity!
The Green Snake’s back is just as striking as the front.
Our columnist’s Greco 912, now out of his hands, but fondly remembered.
A flea-market find gave our Wizard of Odd years of squealing, garage-rock bliss in his university days.
Recently, I was touring college campuses with my daughter because she’s about to take the next step in her journey. Looking back, I’ve been writing this column for close to 10 years! When I started, my kids were both small, and now they’re all in high school, with my oldest about to move out. I’m pretty sure she’s going to choose the same university that I attended, which is really funny because she’s so much like me that the decision would be totally on point.
The campus looks way nicer than it did back in the ’90s, but there are similarities, like bars, shops, and record stores. Man, our visit took me back to when I was there, which was the last time I was active in bands. Many crash-and-burn groups came and went, and it was then that I started to collect cheap guitars, mainly because it was all I could afford at the time, and there were a lot of guitars to find.
In that era, I was using an old Harmony H420 amp (made by Valco), a Univox Super Fuzz, and whatever guitar I was digging at the time. I was so proud to pull out oddball guitars during shows and just have this totally trashy sound. Squealing and squeaking and noisy as heck, my style was reminiscent of Davie Allan, Ron Asheton, and Chuck Berry. Of course, I was way worse than all of them, but I did have a frenetic energy and I covered up my lack of skill with feedback. During the ’90s, there was a great punk revival, and I loved bands like the Mummies, Teengenerate, the Makers, the New Bomb Turks, and a bunch of others. Bands were embracing lo-fi, and I was planted firmly in that vein. Plus, the guitars I liked to use already sounded lo-fi.
“This was about the trashiest-sounding guitar, but in a good way!”
For a short spell I was using this Greco guitar and, man, this was about the trashiest-sounding guitar, but in a good way! See, Fujigen pickups (like the ones here) have this echoey voice that I describe as an “empty beer can” sound. My Super Fuzz would just destroy these pickups, and I wish I had some recordings from that era, because it was a real scene! I believe this Greco was a flea-market find but it was much later that I found out it was called a Greco Model 912. This was actually a copy of a German-made Framus guitar, but with a lot more glitz and a crazier headstock. Four pickup selector switches, volume/tone knobs, and a rhythm/lead switch rounded out the electronics. Again, these pickups are instant spaghetti-Western movie tone. Airy and bright, the bridge area is like instant, gnarly surf music. Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine has a similar guitar and John Barrett of Bass Drum of Death was also fond of these pickups. Interestingly enough, these particular Grecos were made in small numbers, ranging between 500 to 600 in total (including all pickup combinations).
The Greco brand was initially owned by the U.S.-based Goya Corporation, but in the late 1960s, Fujigen bought the brand name (for $1,000) and produced a few truly gonzo guitars, including this Model 912. Originally called the GE-4, the four-pickup version sold for $99.50 in 1967. My particular 912 was sold at Sid Kleiner Guitar Studios in Califon, New Jersey (which I learned thanks to the attached store sticker on the headstock).
Aside from the chrome coolness and the four pickups, this model featured a cute little flip-up bridge mute that was all the rage at the time. The body also had some tasteful German carvings around the edges, and as I write this, I am missing this guitar tremendously! But not even close to the way I’m going to miss my girl in a few months. At least I know that she can shop at the same record stores!
Kevin Gordon and his beloved ES-125, in earlier days.
Looking for new fuel for your sound and songs? Nashville’s Kevin Gordon found both in exploring traditional blues tunings and their variations.
I first heard open guitar tunings while in college, from older players who’d become friends or mentors, and from various artists playing at the Delta Blues Festival in the early mid-’80s, which was held in a fallow field in Freedom Village, Mississippi—whose topographical limits likely did not extend beyond said field.
I remember Jessie Mae Hemphill wearing a full-length leopard-print coat and black cowboy hat in the September heat, walking through the crowd selling 45s, and James “Son” Thomas singing his bawdy version of “Catfish Blues.” Also, an assembly of older gentlemen passing a pint bottle, all wearing vests with the name of their fraternal society sewn on the back: Dead Peckers Club.
I played in master minimalist Bo Ramsey’s band from 1988 to ’90. Living in Iowa City, attending grad school for poetry, weekend gigs with Bo were another equally important kind of education. He was the first guy I played in a band with who used open tunings. Nothing exotic: open G or open E, early Muddy Waters and Elmore James. Music I had loved since growing up in Louisiana. This was our bond, the music we both considered bedrock. Some of my first songs, written for that band, featured Bo on slide guitar.
I moved to Nashville in 1992, a city already populated with a few friends—some from Iowa, some from Louisiana. Buddy Flett was from Shreveport; I’d loved his playing since seeing him in the band A-Train in the early ’80s. We’d go eat catfish at Wendell Smith’s, and inevitably talk about songs. He’d achieved some success as a writer, working with fellow north Louisianan David Egan, employing his own kind of sleight-of-hand mystery in both G and D tunings.
In 1993, I found a guitar that would change my life and my songwriting: a scrappy Gibson ES-125 from 1956, standing in a corner of a friend’s apartment in Nashville, covered in dust. I asked if I could borrow it, for no particular reason other than to get it out of there so that it would be played. I wrote a song on it, in double drop-D tuning [D–A–D–G–B–D]. Not a great song, but it got me thinking about open strings and tunings again. I was looking for a way to play solo shows that reflected where I came from, and where the songs came from that I was writing.“The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something.”
So, I put the guitar in open D [D–A–D–F#–A–D], put flatwounds on it, and started figuring out chord shapes (other than barring flat across) that I could use to play my songs, all of which at that point had been written and performed in standard tuning. I’d bought a ’64 Fender Princeton amp years before, when I was 19, but had never found a use for it until now: The 125 through the Princeton on about four was the sound. The droning aspect of open tunings always appealed to me, and in the context of solo gigs, the big sound of octaves ringing out helped this insecure guitar player sound a little taller, wider . . . something. The fingerings I came up with all seemed to mask the third of the scale—so you’d have a big sound which was neither major nor minor. And for my songs, it just felt right. By the time I recorded my second album for Shanachie, Down to the Well, in 1999, I was writing songs in open D (“Pueblo Dog”). For the next two albums, released in 2005 and 2012, the majority of the songs were written and performed live in open D, employing a capo when necessary.
As usual, the methods and habits developed while touring fed back into the writing and recording processes. For my latest release, The In Between, though, most of the songs were written and recorded in standard—“Simple Things,” “Tammy Cecile,” “Coming Up”—with some exceptions, including “Keeping My Brother Down,” “You Can’t Hurt Me No More,” and the title track, on which I play a ’50s Gibson electric tenor archtop in a peculiar tuning: C–G–C–G. Though I can’t say that open tunings make for better songs, they do help me hear chords differently, at times suggesting progressions that I wouldn’t normally think of. One song currently in-progress has these verse changes: VIm / I / VIm / I / VIm / I / II / II. In standard tuning, that VI would sound (to my ear) too bright. But because I’m writing it in open D, how I fret the VI sounds low and dark, appropriate for the lyric and melody, creating the right setting for the lines and story to unfold.
Ethnomusicologist Frances Densmore records the song of Mountain Chief, head of the Blackfeet Tribe, on a phonograph for the Bureau of American Ethnology in 1916.
Once used as a way to preserve American indigenous culture, field recording isn’t just for seasoned pros. Here, our columnist breaks down a few methods for you to try it yourself.
The picture associated with this month’s Dojo is one of my all-time favorites. Taken in 1916, it marks the collision of two diverging cultural epochs. Mountain Chief, the head of the Piegan Blackfeet Tribe, sings into a phonograph powered solely by spring-loaded tension outside the Smithsonian. Across from him sits whom I consider the patron saint of American ethnomusicologists—the great Frances Densmore.
You can feel the scope and weight of theancient culture of the indigenous American West, and the presence of the then-ongoing women’s suffrage movement, which was three years from succeeding at getting the 19th Amendment passed by Congress. That would later happen on June 4, 1919—the initiative towards granting all women of this country the right to vote. (All American citizens, including Black women, were not granted suffrage until 1965.)
Densmore traversed the entire breadth of the country, hauling her gramophone wax cylinder recorders into remote tribal lands, capturing songs by the Seminole in southern Florida, the Yuma in California, the Chippewa in Wisconsin, Quinailet songs in Northern Washington, and, of course, Mountain Chief outside the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C. Author of more than 20 books and 200 articles, she carefully preserved the rich cultural diversity of Native Americans with over 2,500 field recordings.
Why am I writing about this? Firstly, to pay homage! Secondly, because it serves as a great reminder to seek and cultivate sound outside the studio as well. We live in a time of great technological power and convenience. Every week a new sample pack, plugin, pedal, or software instrument hits the market. For all the joy that these offerings bring, they deprive us of the joy of creating our own instruments from scratch.
This month, I’m advocating for you to make some field recordings of your own—nature, urban, indoor, outdoor, specific locations, animals, or anything that piques your interest! Bring the material back to the studio and make music with it! I’ll show you how to make your own sample libraries to use in your music. Tighten up your belts, a multipart Dojo is now open.
What do you need to get started? Quite simply, you just need any device that is capable of recording. This can range from your cell phone to a dedicated field recorder. The real question is: Do you want to use mics housed in handheld units or have more robust mic pres with the ability to power larger live/studio microphones using XLR connectors found with the larger units? Let’s look at three scenarios.
The Cellular Approach
The absolute easiest way to get started is with your cell phone. Take advantage of a voice-memo recording app, or use an app that records multitrack audio like GarageBand on iOS. Phone recordings tend to sound very compressed and slightly lo-fi—which might be exactly what you want. However, the method can also introduce unwanted noise artifacts like low-end rumble (from handling the phone) and phasing (moving the mic while recording). I recommend using a tripod to hold your phone still while recording. You might also want to consider using an external mic and some software to edit your sample recordings on the phone. I like using a Koala Sampler ($4.99) on iOS devices.
Upgrade Me
The next step up is to use a portable recorder. These have much better mic pres, and offer true stereo recording with pivoting mic heads. This can give you the added benefit of controlling the width of your stereo image when recording or helping isolate two sound sources that are apart from each other. You sacrifice the ability to easily edit your recordings. You simply import them into your computer and edit the recording(s) from there.
Pro-Level Quality
I would recommend this scenario if you want to record multiple sources at once. These devices also have SMPTE time code, 60+ dB of gain, phantom power (+48 volts), advanced routing, and a 32-bit/192 kHz sampling rate, so you’ll never have a distorted recording even when the meter gets unexpectedly pegged into the red from a loud sound source. I recommend the Zoom F8n Pro ($1099). Now you can use your microphones!
Best Practices
Try to safely record as close to the sound source as you can to minimize ambient noise and really scrub through your recordings to find little snippets and sound “nuggets” that can make great material for creating your own instrument and sample library—which we’ll explore next month! Namaste.