By Bill Murphy | Wed, 01 Sep 2010
It’s never easy to go back to the drawing board, especially
when you’re in the middle of what might be your
most anticipated album yet. But in the spring of 2009,
New York’s glam rock champions Scissor Sisters did
just that, scrapping 18 months of work to seek out a
producer who could give them a new perspective.
Scissor Sisters (left to right)— Babydaddy, Jake Shears, Ana Matronic, and Del Marquis.
“I think you could probably collect all of our
unused tracks and put together a triple-disc set,”
quips multi-instrumentalist and co-producer Scott
Hoffman, a.k.a Babydaddy, about the band’s nearrelentless
level of output. “We experiment a lot, and
we’re—I hate to say—perfectionists, and I don’t mean
we’ve achieved perfection, but this album had to
sound like a progression for the band. To do that,
we needed someone to create an atmosphere
where we could push ourselves harder and get the
best out of each other.”
Eventually, the band reconnected with
producer Stuart Price. “It all felt a little bit like family,”
Babydaddy recalls. “Stuart was one of the first people
we met in the British music scene; his band,
Zoot Woman, took us out on our first tour of the UK.
I gave him a call and was very honest about wanting
to be challenged—I wanted Stuart’s mind, not necessarily
his sound. He completely understood, and
probably wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
Known for the lush, synth-washed and beatdriven
headspaces he’s created for Madonna, Seal,
The Killers, and countless others, Price consciously
mixed up the sonic palette for Scissor Sisters’ third
album, Night Work (Polyvinyl), mind-melding with
the band to build textures more akin to Eliminator-era
ZZ Top or the gritty dance-rock explorations of
Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s Liverpool. “Scott and I
are kids of the digital age,” Price explains, “and the
sound that we wanted dictated that we work in an
analog sense, even though we’re both using Logic.
Fortunately, between us, we’ve got enough elaborate
gear now that we can recreate the
circumstances that led to those older records.”
The album’s leadoff single “Fire With Fire”
encapsulates the story. Not only is it a dynamic
torch song for lead singer Jake Shears, building and
throbbing with ARP 2600 sweeps and Moog Polymoog
pads, but it crackles with a sheen of compression
reminiscent of ’70s FM radio—a subtle effect
that cycles through the entirety of Night Work, lending
a nostalgic feel to disco anthems like “Any
Which Way” and the retro-new wave pop ditty “Skin
This Cat” (featuring the band’s other lead singer,
Ana Matronic). As Price points out, it’s one of the
perks of having access to a 48-input SSL G Series
console in his London-based studio.
Jake and Ana.
“I just let the channel compressor in the SSL do
all the work,” he says. “For example, the ARP synthesizer
always responds well to aggressive compression
because it has such a big noise floor. I like to
bring that raspy sound out so I have a chain that’s always boosting a lot at 6K on a high
shelf. I’m only going to end up riding it
more in the mix anyway, so I figure let’s
just do it from the get-go.” Similarly, the
Polymoog was set up with its own chain,
running into a pair of guitar pedals—the
Boss CS-1 Compression Sustainer and
DD-7 Digital Delay—and an Avalon U5
DI/preamp, which has a tone shaper that
allows for liberal knob twiddling. “If you
want to disengage your brain for a second
and just search for a sound,” Price
jokes, “it’s a brilliant all-around box.”
Initially tracked with the full band—filled
out by guitarist Del Marquis and drummer
Randy Real—“Fire With Fire” is notable for
its compact mix, which owes as much to
the original performance as it does to any
compression applied later. Shears used a
beat-up Shure Beta 58 microphone for
his vocal, singing in the control room, as
he did for most of the album, to a live
monitor mix with no headphones. From
there, he went into a Neve 1084 Mic Pre,
purely for gain (dry with no EQ) and into
the SSL for further compression. Babydaddy
played a Fender Musicmaster Bass
into a Vox AC30 guitar for extra grit, while
Marquis played an overdriven Gibson Les
Paul guitar on the chorus. In the mix, Price
was very light with Logic plug-ins, relying
on a combination of Space Designer and
an outboard Yamaha SPX90 for adding
reverb trails to Shears’ vocal.
“We’ve always sort of mixed as we
went,” Babydaddy adds. “We spend the
final mix really getting things right, and
possibly even reinventing things. On this
one, Stuart did less work than I did in trying
to perfect sounds as we went. I think
he realized he was going to spend time
with it later, so we used creative time for
the creative process. In the end, he
planned for a week to mix the album, and
we just thought, ‘You’re out of your mind.’
But he was adamant about making it
work, and he actually did it in a week with
us looking over his shoulder.”
Again, Price took full advantage of the
SSL desk at his disposal. “The console is
always in mix mode,” he says. “That’s a
good way of having everything ready to
go, but at the same time you’ve got 24
tape returns so you’re not putting anything
off to the mix.” Price kept the first 24 channels on the left side of the board
open as “record ins” for all the synths and
mics in his studio’s live room, while he
used the remaining 24 channels on the
right side as “tape outs” into Logic.
This tight organizational approach was
key to the success of “Invisible Light”—at
six minutes plus, the album’s epic, runaway
closer. Once Price heard the
song’s basic tracks, laid down by the
band in New York, he knew instinctively
what the song needed. “They’d cut some
very Pink Floyd-sounding electric guitars,”
he recalls, “but the vocal melody
and the hook were really the guiding
points.” The song suggested layered textures
from some unusual sources, including
a Yamaha DX7s for the main riff, a
rackmount TX7 for the bass groove, and
both a Nord Lead 3 and an Access Virus
TI Polar for the dub-style breakdown section
(which features a guest invocation by
none other than Sir Ian McKellen,
recorded backstage after a theatrical performance
in London).
Price programmed a LinnDrum LM-2,
synced to a Roland SBX-10 sync box, to
run throughout the song, manually riding
the faders and pan pots on the SSL
before going into Logic. The LM-2 turned
out to be one of two vintage drum
machines that added significantly to
Night Work’s overall percussive
grittiness; the other was an Oberheim
DMX, something the band and Price
came across while tracking live for a
week at the legendary Compass Point
Studios in Nassau.
“There’s so much history there,” Babydaddy
marvels, “with Robert Palmer,
Grace Jones, AC/DC, ZZ Top, and all
these strangely disparate sounds and
bands. We felt it would be magical to go
there and really play live as a band. One
day we were talking to [engineer] Terry
Manning about what he used for that ZZ
Top sound, and Stuart found an old DMX
gathering dust in a closet—that turned out
to be the secret,” he laughs. “I think the
sound of the future has more to do with
the past than the present; that’s why we
love vintage gear, why we love to compress,
distort, and really destroy sounds
in interesting ways. That’s where the
magic is for me.”