James R. Minchin III

The Verdugo Mountains softened the horizon and grazed the high cotton clouds. The wooded peaks surrounding the valley appeared more like crumpled blankets than their true unforgiving dirt, mud, and stone. It was noontime in the spring on Lake St. in Burbank, California and the sun was glowing, reflecting softly off the hoards of dusty windshields in the used car district. Barreling down the street with a loud muffler-less growl crawled a large, red, rusty Ford truck. It was making its way to the side parking lot of a very unassuming, fly-by-night, built in a couple of days, pre-fabricated steel and cinder block building which housed Tranzformer Studios. Inside the truck, gripping the wheel and scanning house numbers was James R. Minchin III, Rolling Stone photographer.

The rusty red truck with South Dakota plates and a mismatched topper slowly bellowed into the parking lot. It coughed and wheezed as James cut the engine and exited. The door protested with a loud creak as he pushed his long, skinny, denim-covered leg out and to the ground. His worn, gray Converse shoe twisted on the pavement as he stood up and out of the truck cab. A tall man, James looked to be in his mid-forties with an early graying of his short, messy hair and trim, yet bushy beard. His long face was accented by his receding hairline and low, dark brows. A large, rounded nose made him look more like a professor of Biology than a rock star photographer. If not for his inked arms, wrinkly t-shirt, and flower child pendant you’d probably want to raise your hand before addressing him. In a relaxed stride, James made his way over to the side wall of the building and leaned back, kicking his knee up and crossing his arms like some plywood cut-out cowboy.

Inside the building was the large, open space studio that Bryan Carlstrom and Dave Jerden called home. Carlstrom and Jerden were audio pioneers in the ‘70s, ‘80s, and ‘90s, recording everyone from the Rolling Stones and Talking Heads to Alice in Chains and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Gold and platinum records dotted the walls, along with works from local painters from Los Angeles. Mood lighting, accent walls, uncoordinated couches and an abundance of recording equipment filled the inside to give a cozy atmosphere and fuel any creative sparks. James was commissioned by Rolling Stone magazine to be there for a photo shoot that day.

James has photographed the likes of Tom Waits, Avril Lavigne, and Kings of Leon; a quick Google search would show you just about any popular artist’s photograph accredited to him. James has been working with Rolling Stone for many years and has the stories to prove it. “I spent a day shooting Kings of Leon during rehearsal and then afterward getting to know how they are outside of the band,” James reminisced. “It would take a lot for me to do it again. Those guys are crazy; they’re all brothers and they fight like it, too,” he claimed in his soft, mid-range, relaxed voice. “They would go out to drink and get in to knock-down-drag-out fights, leaving each other bloody and bruised when the smoke cleared,” he went on, “but that was back when they first started to gain popularity.” James was done talking; it was time for him to survey the studio and get ready to shoot.

A plain, oversized, white van rolled into the parking lot and several guys jumped out to begin unloading all of James’ photography equipment. First to be hefted inside was lighting. Two short trolleys were pulled out of the back of the van full of car batteries, lighting stands, umbrellas, cables and anything else you can imagine that would be needed. There was so much equipment scattered about, it looked as though they were about to light up an entire stadium for a major baseball game. Heavy-duty, black and silver cargo cases poured out as the men unloaded. A cart loaded with a dozen cameras ranging from high-end digital SLRs to expensive instant Polaroids sat in waiting near the entrance of the building. This was when it became clear James meant business. His busted truck and disheveled appearance were misleading. He was there to work.

Once everything was set up, James grabbed a Polaroid and started snapping test shots to get a feel for the lighting and color. Two of his equipment handlers acted as stand-ins for the shoot, and the three of them joked and laughed as the test subjects struck strange, dramatic poses and sang into the microphone prop. James would snap a shot, move, snap another, grab a different camera, then snap some more. Once he was happy with how things were turning out, he asked for the real models to come out from the makeup area. He shot through five rolls of film and filled a couple of memory cards as he danced around the set, grabbing sideways shots at all different angles, remaining professional and courteous at all times. James would tell jokes when he wanted smiles and asked for seriousness when he didn’t. Hot lights in umbrellas, strobe flashes, and quick clicks of the shutter filled the room as he held up his camera, signaling his assistants for a change in medium or lenses. James was talented and ran a well-oiled machine. I’m certain any number of the thousands of shots he took that day would have fit the bill.

After a few hours the magic subsided, the equipment slowly disappeared, and there was James, helping to break it all down and carry it outside. In the past, I have only heard of big time photographers barking orders, throwing their arms up in frustration, and ultimately storming off the set. Seeing one up close, I realize they’re just hard-working human beings with an eye for art and a need to pay the mortgage. I’m sure James pays his bills like everyone else; the difference is he has a passion and a love for his career and is talented enough to do it for one of the most creative industries on earth. I didn’t see James leave, but his old truck announced it clearly as it rumbled off into the tepid evening air. The next time you see a flower child past his prime choking down the highway in a broken down truck, assume nothing. It might just be James on his way to photograph your next big obsession.

One Year Ago Today in Burbank

"We didn't call him Eno, we called him Brian" said Jerden. I had just asked THE Dave Jerden what it was like working with Brian Eno. Dave was rough around the edges, quick phrased, and he had a harsh voice, so he didn't waste it on words. "They ripped off an African soul musician on that album, completely ripped him off", Dave balked about Talking Heads' fourth studio album "Remain In Light". Apparently Dave was wary to admit how groundbreaking David Byrne and Brian Eno's creation really was. I could have disagreed, but obviously Dave knew way more about it than I did. I actually didn't like the album the first time I heard it, but it grew on me, and before I knew it, it was my favorite Talking Heads album. There I was sitting in Burbank and right before my eyes was the man who engineered and mixed that very album. He was tall, grey haired, and the whole time I was there he was wearing his black leather jacket and often sitting out under the gazebo with a cigarette. I remember him saying that "things are different now", which I suppose he couldn't be more right. I can't really give the guy any justice in a blog post, the man has worked with more influential artists than I have fingers and toes. Either way, here was a man that had a direct influence on my musical teens and twenties. At this point I couldn't even imagine the headache of mixing "Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On)", I'd only wish to have the caffeine and the patience to deal with that much content.

Lori and I saw little of Dave while we were in Burbank, but when he was there he made quick decisions and was gone in a flash. Our final day in the studio was made up of mostly vocals and that was the day Dave sat down and worked with Bryan to comp out several of my vocal tracks. It's a brave new world when someone like Dave is talking out the lyrics you wrote and saying which parts of which take should go in the final mix. I remember many times during our few days in California looking at Lori with that "Holy Crappuccino, I can't believe this is happening" look.

When it came to the nitty gritty Bryan Carlstrom was the workhorse. Bryan was either sitting at the studio's gorgeous giant analog console, tapping on his iPhone, clicking at Pro Tools, adjusting a mic here and there, or puffing at a cigar out under the gazebo(actually Bryan's right-hand man John Nuss was the one making mic adjustments and fixing cord issues most of the time). Bryan seemed the more personable man between him and Dave. Bryan waxed philosophical about his days at Capitol Records, when reverb was made with speakers in empty concrete bunkers in a basement on Hollywood & Vine. These had in turn become the smoking dens for many an artist once digital reverb came along. I also remember a mention of the maintenance elevator that went to a secret floor where the booze was kept. The illustrious red light on the top of the Capitol Records building that flashed ever so steadily in the California midnights was actually Morse code for something or other (a certain vulgar phrase about a particular studio manager comes to mind).

Bryan, who was from the Midwest, just happened to be the pioneer of Pro Tools. He singlehandedly had a stress attack, an epiphany, and then re-routed a few wires to make the first hit album using Pro Tools, turning it into an industry standard. He has worked with just about any hit '90s act you can think of, and, to me, seemed full of steam to keep working for another ten decades, if it was at all possible.

The one wish I have now, a full year later, is that I could have heard what Lori and I created in the midst of such genius. Unfortunately, Konami created a sub-par game, and had an even more sub-par development department. The game had already flopped by the time we hit the tarmac at LAX. Our song never saw the light of day. I still feel, however, that this was my greatest musical achievement, I came, I saw, I conquered. Here's to the future!

For more information on this event please see the following posts:

Day 1 - Chasing The Sun

Day 2 - Into The Studio

Day 3 - The Work (The Fun)

The Work (The Fun): Day 3

Photo By Lori Brooks

Up again, a little later today. Bryan asked us the night before to be in the studio at 9AM, but this morning he calls my cell and asks for another hour. Awesome, this gives us some extra time. After breakfast we hit the pavement.

We hit the studio at about 10AM and I attempt my first real studio track laying. I bust out Lori’s acoustic guitar (not the greatest guitar, but I’ve grown to like it). Of course this wasn’t ideal and after trying to mic it up through both a vintage amp and a direct mic pairing, Jon gets the signal to run to Bryan’s house to grab his Fernandes acoustic-electric. Bryan runs it direct to the vintage amp and direct to the board to give it some color, he tweaks the gains a bit and we’re off. This guitar felt much easier to play than Lori’s Regent; however I had already been playing the song for about twenty-five minutes on the Regent so my rusty fingers began to sting a bit. I guess this is "rock ‘n’ roll". After cringing through about five takes the acoustic track was done.


Photo By Lori Brooks


Photo By Lori Brooks

Lori and I wandered outside during the break and a big old rusty pickup with a topper and South Dakota plates rumbled into the studio parking lot. Out hopped a tall lanky bearded man in jeans and a t-shirt, he tromped over to us and leaned up against the wall, his knee bent and protruding with his heel flat to the brick. This was James Minchin III. He was very polite, smiling, and happy. He had apparently been snooping around on the web checking us out because he had already heard our song. We didn’t have a clue who he was at the time, just that he was the photographer that Rolling Stone sent. He didn’t have a camera, but he didn’t seem too worried about it. We made our way inside, our eyes having to adjust between the searing, bright California sun outside and the dark ambient lighting inside.


Photo By Lori Brooks



James surveyed the studio a bit and I hopped on Facebook. That’s when the people started pouring in. A couple Rolling Stone people including Kimbra, a few people from Konami including Ryan, Amy the hair and makeup girl, James’ gear and grip crew, and craft services. At this point Dave Jerden was there, and I think his agent even showed up. The studio was bustling and busy, it was a weird feeling knowing that we were the center of the project. James’ crew started moving equipment around, bringing in lights, moving couches, pulling art off the wall. They were going to do two different kinds of shots, one with Lori and me pretending to record, and the other, Lori and me pretending to play Konami’s Rock Revolution. Amy set up shop in Annette’s office, Kimbra had free Rolling Stones and some stuff from Lucky brand clothing for the shoot. The small dining area was full of people tapping away on their laptops.



Amy kidnapped Lori and made her up quite well, I wandered around, just trying to stay out of people’s way. I eventually found my way back to Lori’s laptop and hit up Facebook again. Once the set and lights were up James started taking Polaroid tests with his crew as stand-ins. This was only one of many cameras at his disposal, as far as we could tell he used film, digital, and Polaroid and took hundreds of pictures that day. Finally it was my turn for hair and makeup.



We took position in the mock up vocal booth James and his crew had made. With all the hustle and bustle it was getting warm in the studio, and obviously I began to pour sweat. I’m sure whatever makeup I had on was gone within minutes because of the sweat, let alone Amy having to dab my forehead with a paper towel every three to four minutes. The first twenty minutes was awkward, Lori and I standing under lights, pretending to play, several people standing behind James, watching, waiting to fix something if anything happened. Eventually James directed us to discuss and interact instead of fake play music. We had nothing to talk about, so we fake talked, (saying rutabaga, rutabaga) apparently this gives the appearance that you’re saying something, but not really saying anything at all (I’ve also heard watermelon can be used). James went through dozens of rolls, and then would hit the digital for a bit. He would snap Polaroids occasionally and hand crop them by folding up the edges, showing us the result. After a couple hundred shots he’d run off to Konami and get their input. This went on for what felt like an hour, snap, snap, last roll, snap, snap, digital, more rolls would come, snap, snap, last roll, snap, snap, digital high rate shutter snaps, almost done, snap, snap, rutabaga, rutabaga, snap, laugh, move the guitar neck out and back, snap, snap, use your hands more, snap, rutabaga, rutabaga, eventually I think we were a little delirious and started talking about nothing in particular, just common phrases used everyday, back and forth. Either way, we thought James was a genius by this time since Lori had talked with him quite a bit, and even did some web searches of him, seeing his past work, taking beautiful pictures of pop and rock icons. We would do whatever he wanted us to do. Done! Break!



We went outside to cool off while James took some more Polaroids of his crew in the next set. The set was a TV, a couch, a table, some other riff raff, the game and the Konami drum set that you can buy with the game. My favorite part of the set was the paper plate with cheese and crackers on a pillow in the middle of the room. Apparently this wasn’t a prop, it was for the crew, but it remained in the photos anyway. Actually most of the refreshments you’ll see in the final picture are actually what the crew was eating and drinking while doing the stand-ins. There’s also poster art on the back wall from the local LA artist Euthanasia. After a few touch ups by Amy, we were called back in to do the next round. Lori on the couch watching the TV, and me playing the video game drums. This time instead of playing “The Bridge Is Out” over and over again James busted out his iPod and asked what we wanted to listen to. We picked Wilco, and he had every album (Wilco rocks). So we put on “Monday” from Being There and started the shoot. Lori directed by James, and me just playing the drums and looking like I’m having a good time. This went on for another hour or so it felt. Lori was either pointing and laughing at me, looking really excited about what was on the TV, or just generally smiling and rooting me on. This was tougher than the other shot; we had to really fake it now. The game wasn’t actually on the TV; in fact the only thing we had was the drum set and the game sleeve. No Xbox, so no TV. In fact the TV actually only had white poster board taped across it, with a bunch of different colored transparencies taped haphazardly across it and a flash can pointed up at it so it would reflect the colors back on to Lori’s face. By the end I was pouring sweat fake banging the fake drums, but both of our smiles were sincere, we were laughing, making fun of each other, James was laughing and making fun of the situation. It was an utter pleasure to work with James, he made us feel at ease, and that we could laugh at what was happening, in fact, he wanted us to. Turns out the shot they used is actually of us laughing and being stupid, instead of us really trying to look like we were playing the game. The muscles on the back of my head hurt from smiling for so long. The shoot was done.



Right after the shoot, I laid down a few takes of the bass track. It was after lunch, I hadn’t eaten, but I was wired and excited, so I put in the work. Tracking the bass was a little different from tracking the acoustic because you didn’t need to sit in the booth, you just tracked right there at the board. I didn’t see whether or not the bass was straight in or ran to an amp somewhere in the studio. Bryan tweaked the EQ and gain, even tweaked the knobs on the bass itself as I played. I think the sound tweaking took longer than actually laying the tracks down. I thought I’d be nervous having to play bass right in front of Bryan and Dave (Dave, Remain In Light man, Remain In Light), but I pulled it off like a robot. Turns out I may have been a little too precise and robotic on the acoustic and bass, because Bryan mentioned he wanted to loosen the track up a bit (more on this later). We were released for dinner.



We headed to downtown Burbank again and ate out on the patio of one of the local diners. I had a couple Newcastle’s and a Cobb salad of some sort.




It was after 8 or 9 when we got back to the studio. Everyone was sitting out under the gazebo having a smoke and chatting it up, we sat down and heard more war stories from the industry. We talked about overweight felines and something or other. The work wasn’t over, but I was still wired and ready to play.


Photo By Lori Brooks

Bring out the Memory Man w/Hazarai. It took me a few minutes to find the settings I used on the original tracks I recorded at home, not quite exact, but close enough. This would be my Stratocaster's first appearance. This time Bryan actually ran the Memory Man in stereo through two vintage Fender tube amps about 35 feet away from each other. They were loud, very loud after a quiet evening dinner. I felt old thinking it was so loud, also I felt like we needed to turn them down as if the neighbors would complain (Loudness often equals guilt when you come from a town like Peoria.) This passed eventually and we set up everything in the control room to record my lead guitar parts. After about 5 or 6 takes Bryan felt he had enough to work with. The long day was over, and we headed back to the hotel at about 11:30PM. Wired most of the day, once we hit the hotel room all of the adrenaline wore off and we crashed hard once again.

Into The Studio (Day 2)

Photo By Lori Brooks

We were awakened by our alarm clock and then by our hostesses phone call. Not completely awake and surprisingly not jet-lagged (this came upon us the few days right after we flew back to Chicago), we dressed up and headed down for our free breakfast. The spread was wonderful, fresh fruits, an omelet bar, croissants, muffins, eggs, potatoes, bacon, and sausage (the breakfast bar became a daily occurrence, so I’ll only mention it once.) With so much free food, it was difficult to gauge our intake, so as not to become sluggish when the work comes.



Photo By Lori Brooks

(Just a side note on the realization of how much money is in this part of the country. I’ve only seen a handful of Lamborghinis at car shows, and in big city areas. This one was no slouch. It looks to be a Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, price tag of about $220K.)


Photo By Lori Brooks


The work never really came for us this first day in the studio. We arrived at about 9AM (nothing quite like trying to make rock ‘n’ roll at 9AM on a Wednesday) and were greeted promptly by Bryan, Annette, Jon, and Seth. I exported all of my tracks from “The Bridge Is Out” on Lori’s laptop, and threw them out on the studio server. Bryan imported everything into ProTools and began tweaking and mixing everything. This went on for a couple of hours while Lori and I explored the studio and snapped pictures. There was some discussion of drums, and thankfully all I had was one stereo track of drums, so it required that they bring in a real drummer. (Konami needed separated stems and midi notes embedded in the tracks for their developers to get the song ready for the game.) Bryan clued us in on the fact that the “greatest drummer in the world” just happened to be in the area from a break on tour, but the discussion stopped at that point.









They released us for lunch and suggested downtown Burbank’s Gordon Biersch as the place to go. They were right. At the time I was not aware that Gordon Biersch was a chain (Lori and I were hoping to eat at places in California that you couldn’t find anywhere else, or anywhere in Illinois for that matter) but their menu was different, their beer was delicious, and it just had that overall California feel to it, so it was truly worth it. Everyone on the wait staff was pleasantly attractive, very nice, and had very unique facial characteristics, almost as if you could tell they were all aspiring actors or actresses ready to hand out headshots at a moment’s notice.





Downtown Burbank was gorgeous, weird shops, all kinds of interesting restaurants, palm trees, expensive cars (without any rust), and the Cartoon Network building within walking distance.

After lunch we checked in with the studio and we were given the rest of the day off. It was time to see the sights, from a car (everyone knows that California and cars mix very well). Since we were in Burbank we decided to hit the studios first. We drove by all of them, and stopped at Warner Bros. for some photo ops. From there we hit Hollywood, Beverly Hills, and finally Rodeo Drive. Lots to see, Southern California is a very beautiful place. Lori and I snapped almost 1300 pictures while we were out there; we tend to be very shutter happy while traveling.

After many hours in the car, and the ever present piling up of work we decided we better see the ocean now while we still have the chance. We couldn’t be that close to the Pacific without getting a glimpse. Apparently no one else in Southern California had the same idea. The wind howled off the water and threw sand at us at breakneck speed. If it were anyone else, it would have been a horrible day at the beach. But we were still on cloud nine, getting to do all of this on someone else’s dime. It need not be said, but I’m sure this day would have only been better had we been cruising around in a fire apple red convertible the size of medium seafaring vessel.











About 6:30 we headed back to the studio to check in and Seth was attempting to lay down drums for our track, it was not going well, and I could tell Bryan was frustrated. He talked about having another 6 hours of work that night before we could come in and start recording. We were released again.

We were beat, but we headed back to the hotel, changed clothes, and since we knew the next two days would be treacherously long, we decided that, yes, we wanted to see more. We headed to the Hard Rock Café at Universal’s Citywalk. 100 or so pictures and an eight dollar cheeseburger later, we were headed back to the hotel for bed. Then I got the call from Bryan. “Hey, Gregg Bissonette has done me a personal favor, he came up to the studio and we were done in an hour”. This was the afformentioned “greatest drummer in the world” and he was now on our track (this is Ringo’s drummer man, he’s jammed with a Beatle, that’s just messed up man, far out). We could have only been happier if we could have met him personally, alas, this was not the case.








We sank into our bed and slept hard.

Going to Los Angeles

Lori and I (The Aposematics) have won a trip to Los Angeles (among other things). We're leaving for Chicago tomorrow April 14th, 2009 to catch a plane, and will be back in Peoria Saturday April 18th, 2009.

This trip includes recording with Dave Jerden and Bryan Carlstrom at their studio in Burbank, plus a Rolling Stone photo shoot. The photo shoot (I'm told) will take place in the studio and possibly another TBD location.

The firm in charge of this will be keeping us busy during the day, but will take us out on the town for dinner every night.

We're nervous, but excited for the opportunity. We've never been to the west coast. It's been quite the chore for us to pack and get everything lined up on our end.

We will be updating our Twitter accounts, and Facebook pages hopefully with pictures and details if anyone is interested on updates. (Go to http://www.theaposematics.com/links.htm for the urls to our various networking pages)

The long, treacherous path of learning to play and record music on my own has finally paid off. This was completely unexpected, if this is the only compensation I ever get for doing something I love, it will have been well worth it.

Sayonara!

John