THOSE INCREDIBLE MEN AND THEIR MUSIC MACHINES
By Roy Brewer
The haste with which, in the 1980s, the major record companies abandoned
their LP lists in favour of CDs proved something of a culture shock to classical
record buyers. Whether, at the outset, all the implications of digitised
recording and playback were fully appreciated by the distributors, let alone
their customers, is doubtful, but here was a technological breakthrough with
easily recognisable benefits: small, robust disks with long playing times,
a noiseless surface and a materially improved standard of audio fidelity.
The rest, as they say, is history. Computer-based technology moves fast:
the cost of CD players, if not of CDs, has come down, many hi-fi systems
no longer incorporate conventional record decks and some audiophiles have
disposed of their entire LP collections in favour of CDs (a rash decision
since few will not, at some time, have reason to mourn the loss of a treasured
performance on vinyl).
It is not my purpose to make a case against digital recording, though it
must be said that it is not always an unmixed blessing. For example it was
not long before critical listeners discovered that, despite their many virtues,
CDs are not automatically superior to LPs. The loss of warmth, resonance
and immediacy of some remastered CDs compared with their LP counterparts
can produce a "washed out" sound that troubles critical listeners. The reason,
according to Tony Faulkner, a leading recording engineer, is that less
musically-well-informed producers become "so obsessed with squeaky-clean,
noise-free playing that they pour the musical baby down the electronic plug
hole with the dirty bath water". Be that as it may, such tinkering is not
new. In an effort to obtain a "natural" sound, multiple tracking, cutting,
splicing, dubbing and mixing were all commonplace by the late 60s, when most
classical LPs had at least a dozen edits for every 40 minutes' playing time.
To appreciate what is involved in making digital recordings it is useful
to know the significance of the code letters that appear on all commercially-sold
CDs. These are:
DDD: digital tape recorder used for the recording session and for
editing, mixing and mastering.
ADD: analogue tape recorder used for recording session; digital tape
for editing, mixing and mastering.
AAD: analogue tape used for recording session and for editing, mixing
and mastering, with digital remastering.
Since they depend on existing audio sources, such as 78 rpm records, LPs
and analogue tapes, most ADD and AAD CDs are, in a broad sense, "historic"
recordings or compilations. Obviously little can be done to change the actual
performance, though recording engineers can go a long way towards reducing
or removing defects such as surface noise and minor imperfections present
in the original tape or discs. Thanks to the skill and dedication of musically
sensitive archivists and producers legendary singers, orchestras and
instrumentalists from the days before magnetic tape recording (which did
not arrive until the early 50s), and even some early acoustic recordings,
now feature prominently in CD catalogues. As a reviewer for these pages I
recently auditioned four sets from the already-mentioned Great Opera
Recordings series - Don Giovanni, Faust, La Boheme and
Rigoletto - and was impressed by the success with which recordings
made as early as 1936 have been given a new lease of life.
Yet not all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds. The route
from performance and editing to master disc and record manufacture is no
longer as direct as it once was. The mere possession of the requisite machinery
allows for high-volume production on factory lines, and virtually any audio
or digital source can be used without the sampling, editing and other human
controls. By far the largest proportion of new CDs available at any given
time are low-price re-issues and compilations ranging from excellent to the
barely tolerable. "So what?" I hear you say -. "the more the merrier!" Maybe,
though the extent to which the CD market has been flooded with factory-produced,
often pirated, remakes has brought problems, not least the largely artificial,
price gap between "bargain" labels and the relatively high price of genuine
new releases.
The perfect recording has yet to be made, but the virtues of DDD can be offset
by the opportunities it presents for adulteration. Today's production techniques
have greatly extended the opportunities for modifying, "improving" or even
faking a performance, a fact chillingly underlined in an article headlined
Do you believe all you hear? by Jonathan Kettle, founder of
Hi-Fi Magazine and of the first hi-fi magazine on the internet. In
it he states "CDs regularly appear containing 1000 to 1500 joins. 'Worst
case' CDs contain as many as 3000 edits - one for every second of music".
(He was, by the way, referring only to classical CDs).
Alarming though this may sound (and is!) it is comforting to recall the old
adage "you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear". The best guarantee
that a CD has not been adulterated in the making is the status and artistic
integrity of the performer(s) themselves. András Schiff made the point
simply and clearly in a radio interview when he said "I don't regard recording
as a separate art form. It is naïve to believe you can achieve perfection".
One has only to hear his wonderful Schubert interpretations to know what
he mans.
Experience and an "educated ear" are a further protection against the more
outrageous forms of musical fakery. I have attended concerts by the Academy
of Ancient music often enough to be confident that the recordings made by
this ensemble are as persuasive on disc they are in the concert hall. No
doubt readers of this article could provide numerous other examples where
fiddling with the knobs on a production console could never have attained
such high musical standards. There is no such thing as a "perfect" recording:
the important thing is what we have heard, and can recall. in live situations.
This may be cold comfort to the hi-fi buff who depends entirely on CDs for
his musical pleasures. Hard luck!
Quantity versus quality is a never-ending debate: "one man's meat
"
etc. Nevertheless I find it difficult to understand the workings of today's
CD marketplace. A straw poll (which took me all of ten minutes to conduct
using current UK catalogues) shows a choice between 118 recordings of Dvorak's
New Wprld Symphony, 124 of Beethoven's 6th "Pastoral"
Symphony (some part of complete sets of all Beethoven's Symphonies) and
98 of his "Emperor" Piano Concerto. The French might call this an
embarras de richessess. I call it a confounded nuisance. It is impossible
to imagine a time when anyone who wants a CD of these, and scores of other
imperishable masterpieces, will not be to find one, though due to the sheer
quantity of CDs being released deletions are frequent and unpredictable.
In her preface to the BBC Music Magazine's Top 1000 Guide to Classical
CDs the editor, Fiona Maddocks, writes "Our team of reviewers has faced
the daunting prospect of comparing sometimes as many as 50 versions of the
same piece." It is tempting to speculate on what reason, other than blind
commercial competition, there could be for such massive overkill, but perhaps
it is more pertinent to ask how buyers' interests can possibly be protected
in this vast and confusing a marketplace.
.Few record buyers of my generation forget the thrill of acquiring a coveted
LP and playing it for the first time. It is therefore not surprising that
there is still a market for LPs. One specialist UK dealer, Spiral Classics,
issues quarterly catalogues of second-hand classical LPs, each containing
between 1,500 to 1,800 records, ranging from rare collectors' items to single
discs and boxed sets of mono and stereo labels. Most of them are between
£4 and £9 each, though rare items sell for considerably more. I
have no hesitation in publicising this supplier, whose recently-created
website
www.spiralclassics.co.uk
is linked to these pages, since I know about (but have no connection
with) Sophia Singer's efficient, well-informed personal service and detailed,
well-classified catalogues. Patient collectors may also be rewarded by hunting
through the boxes of LPs often found in charity shops in the UK.
The pre-recorded CD is clearly here to stay and so far remains virtually
unchallenged by DAT (Digital Audio Tape) which require fairly expensive equipment
to play. Not so read/write CD ROM discs, which can be used to record and
download music onto suitably equipped computers, or CD players capable of
recording from any digital source. Much to the irritation of major recording
companies problems of piracy (at present mainly confined to popular labels)
and copyright violations are proving notoriously difficult and expensive
to pursue through the courts. The effect of this perfectly legitimate technology
is hard to predict, but it is more likely to reduce the number of new issues
than to cut the cost of top-of-the market CDs.
No moral is needed - or can easily be drawn - from the points raised in this
article, except, maybe, the warning "Be careful, what you wish for - you
might get it!" CDs have brought unimaginable pleasure to millions. Whether
they have served the art of music is a trickier question. Personal tastes
and preferences aside, it could be suggested that the time has come when
a certain amount of reading and basic musical knowledge might do more in
this direction than any CD. Yet perhaps not. I recently reviewed one of a
new series of double CDs called Classics Explained (Naxos again!)
in which major works are described, illustrated and analysed in a detailed
spoken commentary and accompanied by a 106-page booklet full of historical
and technical information. Could it be that we are discovering that knowing
something about what you are listening to is not such a bad idea after all!