Tag: Harry Styles

Basic Folk: Ben Harper

Posted on by Shelby Williamson

Ben Harper has this deep connection to music through his family, who own a beautiful music store in the Inland Empire of California. The legacy of the store is founded on ensuring its community always has access to music. That legacy has deeply impacted the type of person Ben Harper continues to be throughout his artistic life. He’s been a musician who has given so many artists their start (very notably Jack Johnson), and has been a gateway into roots music for many of his listeners.

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In our conversation, we really dig into Ben’s new album Wide Open Light, which takes him back to his acoustic and slide-heavy roots. It walks that beautiful line between singer-songwriter, country and soul that his fans have loved for decades. The record shows him being vulnerable, talking about spirituality and, of course, flexing his impressive guitar chops and his intimate vocal delivery. We also got to talk about Harry Styles, who Harper has recently gone on tour with and where he’s met a whole new generation of fans. It was very cool to discuss not only his beginnings, but where he is now as an artist and how he’s shaping his legacy with the next generation of musical listeners.

Photo Credit: Michael Halsband

Rachel Baiman On the Importance of Women in Studio Control Rooms

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: BGS contributor, picker, and singer-songwriter Rachel Baiman brings us into the production process for her new album, Common Nation of Sorrow — her first recording on which she’s credited as sole producer — for this op-ed feature.)

Take a look at the credits for your favorite records by artists of any gender, and you may notice that there are very few women listed. Maybe there’s a female singer, photographer, or graphic designer – possibly a violinist in a string section, but it probably stops there.  

While great strides have been made in the last decade with more women on festival bills, in radio programming, and even as instrumentalists in live bands, when you look behind the scenes, you rarely see women involved in making records, unless they are the featured artist or part of the featured band. That’s because the studio is invisible to the audience. 

Societal pressure is driving folks to do better when they are working in public lineups, but in recording studios, there’s nobody watching, and no face on the sounds that come out of the box. The audience sees a diverse band playing a live show, yet none of those musicians are featured on the record.

For example, I was thrilled to see Sarah Jones absolutely slaying the drums for Harry Styles live, but when I looked at the record credits, they had a male drummer listed. Why? It’s as if the industry is saying “We love to have you on stage, but when it comes to the real work, let the men get down to business.”

To Harry’s credit, there are a couple of female instrumentalists (violin and keys, and a conga player) and assistant engineers (“Move that microphone for me please!”) featured on his albums (which is huge progress, believe it or not), but I would have loved to see Jones included as a true backbone of the sound, especially when she’s such a fundamental part of the live show, and clearly more than capable. That kind of record credit is a career maker – not that Jones needs it, she’s doing great anyway – but why couldn’t she have that?

I’ve had a dream for a few years now of being a producer. Over the last decade of working in the studio in various roles, I’ve fallen in love with the production process: Starting with the songs, honing and editing until you’re left with only the meat, selecting the perfect musical voices to bring the song to life, and working with amazing engineers to get the sonic pallet perfect. I can’t get enough of it, and I want to do more.

According to a 2018 study by the University of Southern California, and reported on by GRAMMY.com, only 2% of music producers and 3% of engineers/mixers in popular music are women. These are roles that require real trust, as they are roles of power. There’s no turning down, editing, tuning, or washing out a producer or lead engineer. The project is in their hands.

Typically, male artists (as opposed to engineers, another role that leads to producing jobs) are asked to be producers when other musicians like the records that they’ve made or been a part of. It’s a role of mentorship and guidance, as well as artistic influence.  I started to realize, though, that because I am a woman, nobody was going to naturally think of me for that role, even if they liked my music. People fit people into the molds that we’ve been shown, and people trust people who others trust. Everyone wants to make the right decisions, and it’s hard to be the first one to believe in somebody – I know this trap because I’m guilty of it myself! If I wanted to be thought of as a potential producer, I was going to have to build my own platform and show people that I could do it. 

When it came time to make Common Nation of Sorrow, I saw it as an opportunity to take a bet on myself. Although it’s terrifying to produce one’s own music (you have to be both the speaker and the listener at the same time), I knew that if I could produce something great under my own name, perhaps others would start to see me in that role outside of my own music. After all, if you can’t trust yourself with your own work, how can you ask others to trust you with theirs? 

With the support of my awesome label, Signature Sounds, I was able to record this project exactly the way I wanted to. I had a variety of musicians in mind for the rhythm section, both male and female. I hypothesized that when considering the sessions, I needed to make sure that there was a feeling of social balance in the room, for my own sake as well as for my fellow musicians’ sake. Something that was interesting to me about this theory is the stark difference between “including” women on a project because you feel that you should, and believing that empowering women and asking for their contributions will actually result in the best art.  

When I get called for sessions to play fiddle or banjo, I am usually the only woman in the room. I walk in feeling like I have to be better than good in order to counteract the assumption that I will be sub-par, that I don’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t know how to read a chart, that I can’t solo, that I won’t know anything about sound or gear. Working from a position of insecurity, or “trying to prove something,” is a terrible way to make music. I might overplay, or underplay, or try to play the way I think men want me to play, not in my own voice. I might be trying to tamp down rage at a comment that somebody has just made about their wife being retired from music because, “She’s a mom now.”  

Contrastingly, when you’re suddenly the producer, the only one you have to impress is yourself. Everyone in the room has been hired by you, and therefore, it’s in their best interest to support your vision. Nobody has incentive to diminish your work. Suddenly, I’m able to work from a place of confidence and artistic integrity. In a position of power, it’s not as likely that I’ll overplay, or change my sound based on others, or second guess my abilities. I’ve taken the bet, and now I have to come through for myself. That’s the difference between token inclusion and empowerment. You’re going to be able to hear it in the album made this way, too. 

Recently, I was asked by a male musician who I love and admire to produce his next record. It was completely unexpected, and it took a minute for me to realize that my bet on myself was actually paying off. I’m starting to believe now that this could be a real career path for me. I think most people want to believe in, and support each other, but we, as women, have to have the courage to take those first steps and put ourselves out there for consideration. From my standpoint, it can work. 

I’m thrilled to see so many incredible women working as producers and engineers these days in Nashville. Mary Bragg, Rachael Moore, Clare Reynolds, Shani Ghandi, and of course Alison Brown at Compass Records, who has been leading the charge for years. I look forward to one day having the opportunity to work in a studio environment inhabited by only women, completely by chance. The more we can show each other what’s possible, the more likely that will become. 

(Editor’s Note: Rachel Baiman’s latest album, Common Nation of Sorrow, is available now wherever you stream or purchase music.)

Photo Credit: Natia Cinco

Lydia Loveless Gives Her Songs More Space, Sarcasm on Self-Issued ‘Daughter’

Posted on by Editor

Lydia Loveless wrote her fifth studio album, Daughter, after a self-confessed period of personal upheaval. The dissolution of a marriage and an interstate move away from her longtime home of Columbus, Ohio, left her seeking to redefine herself both inwardly and societally. Released independently, Daughter presents an electric balance of deep vulnerability and power, replete with wry humor and honest, unadorned regret.

Recorded by Tom Schick (Mavis Staples, Norah Jones, Wilco) at The Loft in Chicago, Daughter features anthemic hooks and reflective moments of spaciousness. With Loveless writing on keyboards, synths and drum loops, the work comes together to present a group of compelling songs that create a treatise on selfhood, womanhood, hypocrisies of Western society, and the reverberant pain and joy of being human. Loveless spoke with BGS from her North Carolina home about the album she considers her most personal one yet.

BGS: Daughter lays out so many emotions and states of being that women are usually cut off from expressing — there’s a lot of sardonic humor, a lot of anger and frustration, there’s this rejection that every woman should have maternal desires. I love these very plain descriptions of living with depression, and the vocals sit right on top of the mix so you can hear every single word you’re saying. What was your internal process like while writing these songs?

Loveless: I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a sad sack. [Laughs] But I always couched it with humor. I feel like I found my place on this record with that. Because I’ve had a lot of people say that it’s… they don’t really say that it’s funny, but they can sense a lot of the humor and sarcasm in it. So I feel like I got to a solid place with that and I was probably reading a lot of depressing old ‘60s writers [Laughs] so that helped pull the content along I think.

In Daughter, you write very honestly about how your personal and professional life has shifted in the last three years — a move and the end of a marriage. What is it like to make a piece of art that dealt directly with that change?

It was super cathartic. I feel particularly excited about it and confident in it because it’s a self-release so it pretty much has got my stamp all over it. I think the idea that it’s up to me to make it more successful has had some sort of reverse psychology. Like I’m not very freaked out, I’m just excited and proud, and happy with the whole process.

One of the aspects of this record that I love are the variances in instrumentation and gear — the drum loops and keys as well as analog synths. It adds this whole other dimension to the album. How did these different instruments affect the way you write, if at all?

I think it helped me a lot to come up with better melody and more focused songwriting. I think in the past I’ve always been a very hard guitar player. [Laughs] It’s not like I don’t like that or that I’m embarrassed by it, but I wanted to try something different. I felt like it opened things up a lot. The whole band was playing every instrument except the drums because we’re not all that good. [Laughs] It was very exploratory and it helped me to give the songs a lot more space than I usually do.

Is that something that you’re hoping to continue?

Yeah. I feel like every time I make a record, the only way I really break through my inevitable period of writer’s block is by doing something that I don’t know how to do, so that I can learn it and be inspired by the newness of it. I’m sure I’ll run out of things like that eventually but I think it’s what helps me stay mentally in shape, for sure.

In past interviews you’ve talked about having been totally exhausted by touring. What was it like to sort of…stop? Because right now, many of us are at home dealing with having to be still. It’s very jarring for a lot of people. What was your experience with stillness in making Daughter and also now, during the pandemic?

It’s pretty tough, because the thing I miss the most about regular life is traveling and touring. Not necessarily going to the bar or getting dinner at a restaurant. I just miss being somewhere else all the time [Laughs], because that’s my natural state. It’s definitely something that I’ve had to work really hard on not going crazy with. Because it’s something I really enjoy — so that’s been the hardest part… not being able to just go random places and hop on a plane or go to the beach or whatever, you know?

Do you have three records, books, or movies that you’re enjoying right now and would recommend to readers?

I’m reading My Brilliant Friend right now. I’m studying Italian so I wanted to read something set in Italy — not that I’m reading in Italian. [Laughs] It’s great writing and the characters are very real. My movie watching has been lots of cornball thrillers. I think everyone should see Face/Off at some point in their life to feel better about their creative endeavors. Musically, I’ve been listening to a lot of Harry Styles. I’m a basic, basic human.

This record is a compelling statement on feminism, and specifically the concept that women only have worth insofar as they can be associated relationally with a man, as a daughter, wife, sister, etc. What do you hope people take from this record — this listening experience?

I think a lot of people have been frustrated with that whole “it’s somebody’s daughter” thing for a long time. I’m sure there’s been commentary on it, but I just have personally struggled with it for so long. So I am glad that I was able to get it down in a sonically pleasing — to me — way. [Laughs] So hopefully other people find it not just moving, lyrically, but think of it as a set of solid songs instead of just me screaming into the ether about how much it sucks that people don’t get feminism!

You’ve said that “Love Is Not Enough” is the closest to a political song you’ve been able to write thus far. What are you hoping to communicate with listeners through that song specifically?

I mean, I guess it’s sort of a grumpy song. But yeah, I think we’re all going through that right now. Everyone’s taking a lot more action than before and I don’t think we can really fool ourselves of this idea that if we just vote and say kind words, everything will be okay. [Laughs] There’s a lot more work to do. I think that society is really maybe finally coming together in that sense. But I also feel like this is in some ways my most personal record ever. And I think in some ways that makes it a lot more relatable. I feel like the more personal something is, the more people can connect with it. That’s my hope.

Photo credit: Megan Toenyes