For anyone serious about mixing their own recordings, itās a tool worth considering.
In the world of music production, the tools we choose profoundly influence the final sound of our recordings. I want to make the case for adding one tool that is rarely, if ever, in the āmust haveā or āsexy gearā spotlight but can deliver huge results to your mixes: the console summing mixer. Tighten up your beltsāthe Dojo is now open.
While digital audio workstations (DAWs) have revolutionized music production, offering unparalleled editing and flexibility, many producers, including me, still mix back into an analog console for the sonic character and three-dimensionality that it imparts. But buying a professional console isnāt cheap! This is where console summing boxes come into play, offering a unique way to enhance your mixes and elevate them to a professional level.
How Does It Work?
Very simply put, recording consoles have two basic sections: an input section (all the channels of mic pres, and EQ) and a center section (that sums all of the channels together and routes those signals to various configurable outputs such as inserts and aux buses). A console summing mixer is essentially the center section of a console and is designed to sum the individual audio channels, aux buses, stems, and submixes from your DAW in an analog domain.
In a DAW, digital summingāthe process of combining multiple tracks and buses into a stereo mixāis handled through complex binary algorithms that, while precise, can sometimes lead to a mix that feels lifeless and one-dimensional, lacking the warmth, depth, and cohesion that analog consoles impart.
One of the most significant advantages of using a summing box is the introduction of harmonic distortion, a natural byproduct of analog circuitry. This isnāt like amp or pedal distortion, but rather a subtle harmonic saturation that adds richness and character to the sound. Low-end frequencies gain girth and definition, while high frequencies have a smooth, silky quality. You can achieve natural compression through subtle variations in phase and amplitude, but that depends on how hard you push the summing mixer box.
But the best benefit, in my opinion, is its ability to produce an undeniably open stereo image. Digital summing, while accurate, often lacks dimension or a sense of space. Analog summing introduces subtle variations in phase and amplitude, creating a sense of width and depth that makes each instrument feel like it occupies its own space in a more 3-D stereo field, which results in a more engaging and polished mix. Iāve also found summing boxes encourage a more deliberate and thoughtful approach to mixing, as it requires submixing certain elements.
APIās ASM164 ($3,195 street) is wildly flexible, offering VU meters, multiple inserts, two separate stereo mix options, and more.
For those who work āin-the-boxā and arenāt in the market for a summing box, let alone a console, incorporating a summing box can also serve as a valuable learning tool. By running stems through a summing box and comparing the results to an entirely digital mix, you can train your ear to recognize the subtle qualities that make a mix feel warm, cohesive, spatial, and dynamic. This heightened awareness can then inform your in-the-box mixing decisions, even when youāre not using a summing box.
āWhether you want to add depth and dimension to your tracks, enhance your stereo image, or bring a touch of analog magic to your mixes, a summing box can be a gamechanger."
Itās important to choose the right summing box for your needs and budget, as different models offer varying sonic characteristics. Good summing mixers typically start around $2,000, such as Rupert Neve Designās 5057 Orbit Summing Mixer. While more expensive, APIās ASM164 ($3,195 street) is wildly flexible, offering VU meters, multiple inserts, two separate stereo mix options, and more. The key here is to understand your needs.
Pairing a summing box with high-quality outboard processors, such as compressors or EQs, will allow you to shape your mix in ways that are impossible within a purely digital setup.
Whether you want to add depth and dimension to your tracks, enhance your stereo image, or bring a touch of analog magic to your mixes, a summing box can be a gamechanger. For anyone serious about mixing, itās a tool worth consideringāone that can make the difference between a mix thatās good and one thatās truly exceptional. Until next month, namaste
Guest columnist Dave Pomeroy, who is also president of Nashvilleās musicians union, with some of his friends.
Dave Pomeroy, whoās played on over 500 albums with artists including Emmylou Harris, Elton John, Trisha Yearwood, Earl Scruggs, and Alison Krauss, shares his thoughts on bass playingāand a vision of the future.
From a very young age, I was captivated by music. Our military family was stationed in England from 1961 to 1964, so I got a two-year head start on the Beatles starting at age 6. When Cream came along, for the first time I was able to separate what the different players were doing, and my focus immediately landed on Jack Bruce. He wrote most of the songs, sang wonderfully, and drove the band with his bass. Playing along with Creamās live recordings was a huge part of my initial self-training, and I never looked back.
The electric bass has a much shorter history than most instruments. I believe that this is a big reason why the evolution of bass playing continues in ways that were literally unimaginable when it began to replace the acoustic bass on pop and R&B recordings. Players like James Jamerson, Joe Osborn, Carol Kaye, Chuck Rainey, and David Hood made great songs even better with their bass lines, pocket, and tone. Playing in bands throughout my teenage years, I took every opportunity I could to learn from musicians who were more experienced than I was. Slowly, I began to understand the power of the bass to make everyone else sound betterāor lead the way to a train wreck! That sense of responsibility was not lost on me. As I continued to play, listen, and learn, a gradual awareness of other elements came to the surface, including the three Ts: tone, timing, and taste.
I was ready to rock the world with busy lines and bass solos when I moved to Nashville in the late ā70s, and I was suddenly transported into the land of singer-songwriters. It was a huge awakening when I heard the lyrics of artists like Guy Clark, whose spare yet powerful stories and simple guitar changes opened up a whole new universe in reverse for me. It was a reset for sure, but gradually I found ways to combine my earlier energetic approach in different ways. Playing whatās right for a song is a very subjective thing.
āIf the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it.ā
Don Williams, whom I worked with for many years, was known as a man of few words, but he gave me some of the best musical advice I ever received. I had been with him for just a few months when he pulled me aside one night after a show, and quietly said, āDave, you donāt have to play whatās on the records, just donāt throw me off when Iām singing.ā In other words: Itās okay to be creative, but listen to whatās going on around you. I never forgot that lesson.
As I gradually got into recording work, in an environment where creativity is combined with efficiency and experimentation is sometimes, but not always, welcome, I focused on tone as a form of expression, trying to make every note count. As drum sounds got much bigger during the ā80s, string bass was pretty much off the table as an option in most situations. Inspired by German bassist Eberhard Weber, I bought an electric upright 5-string built by Harry Fleishman a few years earlier. That theoretically self-indulgent purchase gave me an opportunity to carve out a tone that would work with both big drums and acoustic instruments. It gave me an identifiable sound and led to me playing that bass on records with artists like Keith Whitley, Trisha Yearwood, Alison Krauss, Emmylou Harris, and the Chieftains.
In a world of constantly evolving and merging musical styles, the options can be almost overwhelming, so itās important to trust yourself. Ultimately, you are making a series of choices every time you pick up the instrument. Whether itās pick versus fingers versus thumb, or clean versus overdrive versus distortion, and so on ⦠you are the boss of your role in the song you are playing. When the sonic surroundings you find yourself in change, so can you. Itās all about listening to what is going on around you and finding that sweet spot where you can bring the whole thing together while not attracting too much attention.
On the other hand, if the song calls for you to ramp up the energy and lead the way like Chris Squire, Bootsy Collins, Geddy Lee, Sting, Flea, Justin Chancellor, or so many others, trust yourself and go for it. Newer role models like Tal Wilkenfeld, Thundercat, and MonoNeon have raised the bar yet again. The beauty of it all is that the bass and its role keep evolving.
Right now, I guarantee there are young bassists of all descriptions we have not yet heard who are reinventing the bass and its role in new ways. Thatās what bass players doāwe are the glue that ties music together. Find your power and use it!
After eight years, New Orleans artist Benjamin Booker returns with a new album and a redefined relationship to the guitar.
Itās been eight years since the New Orleans-based artist released his last album. Heās back with a record that redefines his relationship to the guitar.
It is January 24, and Benjamin Bookerās third full-length album, LOWER, has just been released to the world. Itās been nearly eight years since his last record, 2017ās Witness, but Booker is unmoved by the new milestone. āI donāt really feel anything, I guess,ā he says. āMaybe Iām in shock.ā
That evening, Booker played a release celebration show at Euclid Records in New Orleans, which has become the musicianās adopted hometown. He spent a few years in Los Angeles, and then in Australia, where his partner gave birth to their child, but when he moved back to the U.S. in December 2023, it was the only place he could imagine coming back to. āI just like that the city has kind of a magic quality to it,ā he says. āIt just feels kind of like youāre walking around a movie set all the time.ā
Witness was a ruminative, lonesome record, an interpretation of the writer James Baldwinās concept of bearing witness to atrocity and injustice in the United States. Mavis Staples sang on the title track, which addressed the centuries-old crisis of police killings and brutality carried out against black Americans. It was a significant change from the twitchy, bluesy garage-rock of Bookerās self-titled 2014 debut, the sort of tunes that put him on the map as a scrappy guitar-slinging hero. But Booker never planned on heroism; he had no interest in becoming some neatly packaged industry archetype. After Witness, and years of touring, including supporting the likes of Jack White and Neil Young, Booker withdrew.
He was searching for a sound. āI was just trying to find the things that I liked,ā he explains. L.A. was a good place for his hunt. He went cratedigging at Stellaremnant for electronic records, and at Artform Studio in Highland Park for obscure jazz releases. It took a long time to put together the music he was chasing. āFor a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do,ā says Booker. āI just wasnāt interested in it anymore. I hadnāt heard really that much guitar stuff that had really spoke to me.ā
āFor a while, I left guitar, and was just trying to figure out what I was going to do. I just wasnāt interested in it anymore.ā
LOWER is Bookerās most sensitive and challenging record yet.
Among the few exceptions were Tortoiseās Jeff Parker and Dave Harrington from Darkside, players who moved Booker to focus more on creating ambient and abstract textures instead of riffs. Other sources of inspiration came from Nicolas Jaar, Loveliescrushing, Kevin Shields, Sophie, and JPEGMAFIA. When it came to make LOWER (which released on Bookerās own Fire Next Time Records, another nod to Baldwin), he took the influences that he picked up and put them onto guitarāmore atmosphere, less ānoodly stuffā: āThis album, I was working a lot more with images, trying to get images that could get to the emotion that I was trying to get to.ā
The result is a scraping, aching, exploratory album that demonstrates that Bookerās creative analysis of the world is sharper and more potent than ever. Opener āBlack Oppsā is a throbbing, metallic, garage-electronic thrill, running back decades of state surveillance, murder, and sabotage against Black community organizing. āLWA in the Trailer Parkā is brighter by a slim margin, but just as simultaneously discordant and groovy. The looped fingerpicking of āPompeii Statuesā sets a grounding for Booker to narrate scenes of the homelessness crisis in Los Angeles. Even the acoustic strums of āHeavy on the Mindā are warped and stretched into something deeply affecting; ditto the sunny, garbage-smeared ā60s pop of āShow and Tell.ā But LOWER is also breathtakingly beautiful and moving. āSlow Dance in a Gay Barā and āHope for the Night Timeā intermingle moments of joy and lightness amid desperation and loneliness.
Booker worked with L.A.-based hip-hop and electronic producer Kenny Segal, trading stems endlessly over email to build the record. While he was surrounded by vintage guitars and amps to create Witness, Booker didnāt use a single amplifier in the process of making LOWER: He recorded all his guitars direct through an interface to his DAW. āItās just me plugging my old Epiphone Olympic into the computer and then using software plugins to manipulate the sounds,ā says Booker. For him, working digitally and āin the boxā is the new frontier of guitar music, no different than how Hendrix and Clapton used never-heard-before fuzz pedals to blow peopleās minds. āWhen I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time,ā he adds.
āWhen I look at guitar players who are my favorites, a lot of [their playing] is related to the technology at the time.ā
Benjamin Booker's Gear
Booker didnāt use any amps on LOWER. He recorded his old Epiphone Olympic direct into his DAW.
Photo by Trenity Thomas
Guitars
- 1960s Epiphone Olympic
Effects
- Soundtoys Little AlterBoy
- Soundtoys Decapitator
- Soundtoys Devil-Loc Deluxe
- Soundtoys Little Plate
āI guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary. I wanted a little bit of ugliness.ā
Inspired by a black metal documentary in which an artist asks for the cheapest mic possible, Booker used only basic plugins by Soundtoys, like the Decapitator, Little AlterBoy, and Little Plate, but the Devil-Loc Deluxe was the key for he and Segal to unlock the distorted, āthree-dimensional worldā they were seeking. āBecause I was listening to more electronic music where thereās more of a focus on mixing than I would say in rock music, I think that I felt more inspired to go in and be surgical about it,ā says Booker.
Part of that precision meant capturing the chaos of our world in all its terror and splendor. When he was younger, Booker spent a lot of time going to the Library of Congress and listening to archival interviews. On LOWER, he carries out his own archival sound research. āI like the idea of being able to put things like that in the music, for people to just hear it,ā says Booker. āEven if they donāt know what it is, theyāre catching a glimpse of life that happened at that time.ā
On āSlow Dance in a Gay Bar,ā there are birds chirping that he captured while living in Australia. Closer āHope for the Night Timeā features sounds from Los Angelesā Grand Central Market. āSame Kind of Lonelyā features audio of Bookerās baby laughing just after a clip from a school shooting. āI guess I have a problem with anything being too sugary,ā says Booker. āI wanted a little bit of ugliness. We all have our regular lives that are just kind of interrupted constantly by insane acts of violence.ā
That dichotomy is often difficult to compute, but Booker has made peace with it. āYou hear people talking about, āI donāt want to have kids because the world is falling apart,āā he says. āBut I mean, I feel like itās always falling apart and building itself back up. Nothing lasts forever, even bad times.ā
YouTube It
To go along with the record, Booker produced a string of music videos influenced by the work of director Paul Schrader and his fascination with āa troubled character on the edge, reaching for transcendence.ā That vision is present in the video for lead single āLWA in the Trailer Park.ā