By John Payne | Mon, 01 Feb 2010
Whether you’re rocker or folkie, a jazzbo or DJ, the ultra-competitive
world of popular music demands creative evolution to ensure your best
shot at longevity. This is the realization that Editors came to as they
prepared for the release of their latest album, In This Light and on This
Evening [Fader], a darkly atmosphere-laden experience that largely
foregoes the band’s more high-sailing guitar dramatics in favor of a
synth-laden world, framing singer Tom Smith’s portentous tales of life in
the gray-orange glow of London at dusk.
The follow-up to 2007’s platinum-selling An End Has a Start, the new
album was produced by the Grammy-winning Mark “Flood” Ellis, hailed
for his work with U2, Sigur Rós, and Depeche Mode. The recording took
place at Flood and partner Alan Moulder’s Assault & Battery studio in
North London, and the intention was to create a space that would propel
the band deeper into the industrial, mechanical landscapes that previous
albums had hinted at, but to leave no doubt that Editors are still a fullblooded,
fire-breathing band.
“Before we started off,” Flood says, “Tom played me the demos, and
I just thought as a body of work it had a character to it. And Tom was
very adamant that he wanted to try a synthetic factor to the album,
which was music to my ears, to hear those songs in a very sort of
synth-driven way.”
Bassist/keyboardist Russell Leetch was keenly aware of the need to
advance the group’s sound beyond its earlier parameters. “With our previous
records, we’d stretched the guitars a little bit too much—they were used a bit too frequently to add a force,” he
says. “This time we got the grit and
the playing from the synths. And since
it was recorded live, mostly played in
one take, it’s still the band playing.
That’s what we wanted to capture.”
DIRTY SYNTHS
The band came to the sessions fully
loaded with mountains of electronic
gear, fully cognizant of the sonic
clichés that can swiftly dominate
with the superficial use of E-Z-touse
effects.
“One of the things that I don’t like
when synths are badly used is when
they sound overly sterile,” Flood says,
“because they just haven’t been
worked in an organic way. So what we
decided to do was to set up the band
in the studio and have them play the
basic tracks live. We had three different
drum kits [played by Ed Lay], and
then Russell was playing bass and
keyboards, Chris [Urbanowicz] was
playing guitar and keyboards, and
Tom was playing guitar, piano, and
keyboards.”
Flood installed a house PA for
the band, with everyone on monitors,
so it was as if they were playing
in the rehearsal room as he and
his engineers recorded it. “We really
tried to make an effort to get this
feel of human machines and to try
and make it as graceful and emotional
as possible—in a really stark
kind of manner.”
“We did the demos before we’d
even met Flood,” Urbanowicz says,
“and we’d had a kind of industrial
sound already and done seven or
eight songs with that kind of sound.
But Flood guided us in the right
direction. We have a pretty good
‘shit’ filter, but Flood has an even
better one. Anything that got a little
bit too sweet, the alarm bells would
go off and we’d try and make it a little
bit dirty.”
The band’s slew of synths,
sequencers, and drum machines
were often strung together to get a
sonically ambiguous mashup that
would add to the burnished, otherworldly
ambience.
Leetch made extensive use of the
ARP Odyssey for bass-synth propulsion,
Urbanowicz tapped into his
Moog Minimoog, Smith played a Roland Jupiter-8, and the band relied
heavily on Roland Juno-106s to get a
Terminator effect. Leetch also favors
the Korg MicroKorg for the presets
that model the Moog Voyager effects,
and for In This Light’s big sheen of
string sprays, he got a lot out of his
circa ’76 Oberheim keyboard.

Editors (left to right)—Edward Lay, Russell Leetch,
Tom Smith, and Chris Urbanowicz
EPIC SPACES
Flood and Moulder’s spaces at the
Assault & Battery studios complex
include a couple of rooms upstairs
with varied dimensions; the main
recording was done in the big room,
which is almost double-story high. The
sound contained in that room, as well
the smaller spaces, was critical to In
This Light’s grandly epic aura.
“We did experiment,” Flood
reveals. “Chris set up in one of the
medium rooms with all his amps, and
then we would try putting keyboards
or guitars through four or five amps.
We tended to mic him fairly close, but
if we wanted the sound of him in the
room, I would send that out back
through the monitors or PA stack to
give that sense of ambience.”
Flood combined the miked
sounds with a little direct inject into
the studio’s Neve analog console.
“We tended to take all the keyboards
DI and through amps so that we
could have the option,” he says. “And
then I also was running about three or four different room mics, so I
would be doing the monitors out in
the main recording room, and you’d
be bleeding things out through the
main PA, which would be picked up
by the room mics, and then you have
the DI and un-amped sound from
these keyboards.”
The Battery studio’s classic Neve
52 analog board, a mid-’80s model
which Moulder had picked up at New
York’s Soundworks studio, acted
almost as a fifth Editors member.
Flood is unstinting in his praise of
this old machine, with a couple of
qualifications.
“It’s got all the classic Neve—good
top and bottom, a bit scooped in the
midrange, so I tend to I push them quite
hard,” he says. “For me there’s a very
small window where everything’s just
sort of cooking nicely, where everything
is just on the point of harmonic distortion—
and then you go one step over
that and it all starts to break down.
“In the end, it was almost as if the
board had become the sound of the
record. With tracking and overdubbing
in that room, then trying to mix it in a
couple of places, that didn’t work. We
decided to go back and mix it in the
same room.”
MICS AND MISTAKES
Getting the right combination of intimacy
and a mechanized alienation
suitable for Smith’s vocals required
Flood’s trusty battery of cheap staples
and supervintage mics.
“In the last 20 years, 95 percent of
the people that I’ve worked with used
the Shure Beta 58 for vocals,” he says.
“And 50 percent of them would be in
the control room next to me. In this
particular instance, we tried to do the
vocals mostly on the floor, with the
music coming out of the PA, no headphones.
And then there were a couple
of times when we tried a Shure SM57,
which also sounded good on his voice.”
For a close, “human” vocal sound,
Flood also relies on three or four relatively
ancient Neumann Gefell microphones,
including a CMV563 with an
M7 capsule.
“Often I will go to the Shure 58
because the voice will always come
to the front and will work and push
with the music and can help to solidify
the whole sound, act as sonic
glue,” Flood says. “Of course, if you’re
the singer listening to a 58-recorded
track in solo mode, you’ll probably
hang your head in shame the way it
might sound, but in fact that is how
99.9 percent of the population is
gonna hear it.”
The relationship between band and
producer is always critical in the success
of the resulting creation. It seems
producer Flood was just what Editors
needed at a crucial time. It didn’t hurt
that they shared a vision about the
band’s ideal future-sound—and that
they got along like good old mates.
“Flood was so down to earth, it
was ridiculous,” Leetch says. “I was
like, ‘Do you want me to make you a
sandwich?’ And he was like, ‘Yeah, I’ll
have one bacon sandwich and one
sausage sandwich and a cuppa tea,
please, no sugar—no, two sugars.’”
And Flood was no perfectionist
taskmaster, either. “There’s quite a
few errors on the album,” Leetch
admits, “but the takes on the whole
worked, so we kept them. And that
was something that Flood drove
through to us: that it doesn’t have to
be perfect to be great. We think it’s
by far our best record.”
TAPE TO DIGITAL
Flood recorded Editors’ basic foundation of tracks for each song live to
tape and kept going until they nailed the right takes. “If you’ve got to edit
it, do it on tape. And then when you’ve got your final version, then I would
stripe the tape and then run Pro Tools as a slave at 96kHz, and then just
dump the 24 tracks straight into Pro Tools,” Flood says. “I’ve found that if
you record on tape first, then transfer it all straight into Pro Tools at 96,
then you’re getting the best of both worlds. You end up with everything in
Pro Tools, but you have all the benefits psychologically and sonically of
working on tape.”