Townsman Trolleyvox asks a fine question in today’s All-Star Jam that’s worth bringing up for full-fledged discussion. Please help him out, especially those of you who’ve been there. We look forward to your responses.
Have any of you recordists out there had the experience of falling in love with a demo you made and then proceeded to try to capture the magic of the demo in the “real recording”? I’d be curious to hear some of your experiences. I’m currently traveling in that odd little land between excitement about the new recording and being misty about certain aspects of the demo. Are the qualities that I loved about the demo irreproducible? I don’t have the luxury of spending a week in the studio a la Roger Waters getting stuff exactly the way I want it on one tune–probably a good thing. Limitations making for more immediate, more interesting work most of the time. If I was really sensible about the situation I’d tell myself that the demo and the new recording are simply different beasts and that they should just be free to be their sonic selves. But alas, I’m a stubborn mofo and thus filled with an odd mix of pride and regret.
Is the moral “don’t make demos?”
I have come to enjoy the Butterfly Joe record over time, but, for me there was always the sense of having failed to capture the feeling on Joe’s homemade cassettes. It should have been possible to increase the sound quality without killing it, and we didn’t even do too badly. But overall, his originals were astounding, and I don’t think we got that on tape.
Also, Mr. Mod, nothing ever came close to the feel on the first demo I heard of “Still.” That song spoke of limitless potentials, far more than subsequent versions.
I think the key, Townsman Tvox, is not so much not recording the demos but not letting anyone hear them. That way, if you decide to try to recapture the magic and fail, onnly you will live with the disappointment. I know too well what you mean. Townsman General, I know youre feelings on “Still” and appreciate them. Likewise the feelings of a certain Townsman who’s lectured me on how stupid I was for trying to re-record a half dozen demos that he loved. Actually, the real lesson for future musicians is Learn How to Write Music and Only Have Bandmates Who Can Read Music. If that were the case, we wouldn’t have to record demos, go through as many band fights, etc…
There is something to be said for down-and-dirty, personal demos, especially in this high-tech, immediate-gratification age. Perhaps we should all cease with the fantasy of the ROCK BAND, baby, and just release our demos on the Internet. We won’t just be getting back to the garden, or wherever we were headed in the song “Woodstock”, we’ll be getting back to cave paintings.
I think General Slocum hit the nail on the head when he talked about unlimited potenital. That’s why sometimes we prefer demos. We know they are not finished and as such, can gloss over any real weaknesses of the song – knowing that the real version could be even better.
I guess it’s like having a crush on a person and then being dissapointed when you actually go out with them.
chalf, if you like the demo that much, then what’s to keep you from releasing it instead? is the fidelity so low?
also, what’s missing from the “real studio version”? is it performance, or is it a sound quality? if the former, you’ve gotta psyche yourself up to get there again. if the latter, bring all the gear you used to the real studio so that you can reproduce that sound, and then feed whatever signal you’re producing into the big slick machine…or at least TRY to reproduce the demo moment. can tracks from the demo be flown in?
if nothing in the paragraph above works, then get over it and move on: give the “real version” its own soul. forget about the demo and just try to perform the song the best way you and your chums know how.