There is a horrible thing happening right now in the world of audio production, and this is the overuse of compression. This has actually been going on for sometime, it all probably started when some dumb chuck decided that he would make his music stand out on the radio by making it louder than the other music, or some advertiser decided to raise the audio levels to draw attention to his ads. If you have ever been at home watching TV and suddenly been blasted out of your seat by some commercial that comes blaring out of your speakers louder than holy hell then you know what I am talking about. This is an annoying marketing scheme that was designed to get the attention of the consumers, and the most irritating part about it is that it works. Products are generally more sucessful on the market when they are backed by loud advertisments, and people are more likely to pay more attention to the louder radio stations. Its not they're fault, its a sort of subconsious thing. People don't consiously think "Oh I wanna listen to this because its louder" they are just naturally more drawn to it, like flies being drawn to bright lights. Music that is louder seems to sound better, and commercials that are louder just seem to be more interesting. Audio producers know this, which is why they try to make they're work louder than everyone else. Thus the loudness wars.
There is a big problem with making audio so loud, however. When you raise the levels on an audio wavefile too high, you cause the peaks (the loudest sounds) to clip, which results in distortion and very unpleasant sounding audio. The solution to this proplem is compression. Compressing a wavefile is like squishing it, you are making it so the peaks can't go too far above a certain threshold thus eliminating clipping and allowing you to raise the levels and make the overall wavefile louder than it was before without it distorting. The problem with this is you are stripping away the dynamic range of the waveform when you compress the peaks. A lot of the sounds character lives inside those peaks, and when you compress them down you are reducing the unique tones that the peaks provide. This is why overcompression is such a bad thing, it really takes away from the overall sound quality. However, sound quality seems to be becoming less of a priority than sound volume, and these days lots of audio producers are compressing the crap out of they're audio just to make it louder.
What irritates me the most about all this is that if I wan't whatever Im listening to to be louder all I have to do is turn up the volume on my stereo. But compression is irreversable, if something is too compressed I can't un-compress it (unless of course I have the orignal project file). Thats why the loudness wars seem so idiotic to me. For commercials and advertising it is more understandable, but why people make they're music sound like shit by compressing it to death just so they can make it loud just seems like sheer stupidity to me. If its not loud enough, TURN UP THE VOLUME ON YOUR STEREO!! Don't compress it and then make it louder, your are ruining the sound quality! A good example of overcompression is Metallica's new album Death Magnetic. Rick Rubin (Metallica's producer) compressed those songs like his life depended on it, and when the Mastering Engineer recieved the tracks they were brick walled. The Mastering Engineer (I forget his name) even said he didn't want to be associated with this album because of how bad the compression is. I'd really like to know how the guys of Metallica feel about the way they're album was produced. Ever time I read a Metallica interview its always Lars (Metallica's drummer) who talks about the issues of compression regarding the album, and I really don't care what Lars has to say because he's an idiot. Lars of course is a big advocate of the album's production, saying stupid shit like "Of course its loud, its a Metallica album!" But again loudness is not the issue, if I want it to be louder I'll just turn up my stereo. Its the overcompression that is the problem. I would really want to hear what Kirk Hammet (Metallica's guitarist) has to say about it, he seems to me like the guy in the band with a reasonable amount of intellegence. But of course, its always stupid Lars in the interviews.
Not all bands however are succumbing to the methods of overcompression. I've noticed its mainly the more mainstream groups that get it the worst, probably due to pressure from the record labels and such. Bands like Iced Earth have taken a strong stand against compression, in they're single "I walk amoung you" they state in the linear notes: ''This is a dynamic metal record! Play it loud!!! (We refuse to ruin our production by compressing the hell out of it so that it’s mastered at ridiculous volumes! That kills the vibe and dynamics of the mix. Just turn it up on your stereo!)”
I have to stress that compression is by no means a bad thing, it is a very powerful and useful tool that when used effectively can yield great results. But as I always say, everything in moderation. Too much of a good thing can sometimes become bad, and compression is no exception.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Tales of the LG Trickster Part I: A Late Night in Los Gatos
Nobody can lie to the police like my brotha can. When it comes to weaseling his way out of a situation with the cops, the skills of Edward Tallman are unrivaled and in my opinion should be considered legendary. Countless times I have been amazed by the things that come out of his mouth when the police are upon us, and my shock only multiplies when these fictitious accounts he creates actually get us out of trouble. I have many memories of such times, which is why I am beginning a series in this blog called the "Tales of the LG Trickster" to create a first person narrative of my memories of these events. Every time the headlights of a police car intercept our path, or a man in a blue uniform steps out from the shadows and there is no chance of escape, I always feel a sense of relief knowing that Eddie the storytelling master is there.
This particular story takes place during my freshman year of high school. This was the year I met Eddie, and began a friendship that would yield years of irreplaceable memories and unforgettable times. I still remember the first time I witnessed Eddie's ability to deceive an entire audience, only this particular instance wasn't with the police but with a group of skaters who were hanging around outside the front of Branham after school. I stood there in disbelief as he explained to the whole group that he was going to be featured in an upcoming Transworld Skateboarding magazine doing a kickflip nosemanual 180 out at Monroe. Although this was a blatant lie, what amazed me was that nobody even questioned it, everybody just kind of stood there slightly dumbfounded. I didn't understand this at the time, but what I was witnessing at that moment was a rare skill that would save me from the clutches of the law more times than I could imagine, and would keep me safe from many unpleasant conversations with my parents. As the years passed, I grew more and more fearless when engaging in mischievous activities because when Eddie was there his skill of verbal trickery made us unstoppable. One time it even saved us from getting arrested, but that is a different story.
As I said before, there have been many instances when Eddie and his ability to fabricate stories on the spot has saved us from facing the consequences of our carefree actions. This is an account of one of those instances. It was a cold winter night, and Eddie and I were lying awake in his room at Calle Larga. It was a Friday night I believe, and we were both resting after a long day of school and skateboarding. Since we had marching band practice the next morning, I was spending the night at his house. We were just laying there talking and relaxing, I curled up with some blankets on the floor and he laying on top of his bed, but when 2:00 am rolled around the itch hit both of us. Although it was late at night, our skateboards were calling out to us and we knew there was no choice but to hearken to the call. With Eddie's grandparents sound asleep just a few doors down the hall, we quietly slid open his sliding glass door and crept out onto the balcony. Although the late hour and the cozy wrap of bedsheets had begun to fatigue me, the second I stepped out onto that balcony the cold night air revitalized me immediately and I was as alert as a fat kid anticipating his next meal. Eddie climbed out over the balcony barrier, and made his way down to the driveway where I handed him our boards and then began my descent. Why we went through the trouble of climbing his balcony and scaling down the side of his house instead of simply going down the stairs and walking out the front door is still a mystery to this day. When I was safely on the ground, Eddie handed me my board and we slid out the hole in his fence into the Los Gatos night.
The place we went to skate was a 3 stair located in an outdoor plaza right by his house. I would always remember this as the night I almost landed my signature nollie hardflip down the 3 stair, and back then coming close to landing a trick was just as good as actually landing it. Eddie had a successful night there as well, throwing 360 flips and frontside halfcabs down the beastly 3 if I remember correctly. Nonetheless, we were both feeling a great sense of accomplishment and were very pleased with ourselves. The only thing that could hinder our spirits was getting caught by the police, and being that we were just a short walk away from Eddie's home we figured we were in the clear. But as we were skating the 3, misfortune struck. Eddie saw with his radar-like police detecting eyes a police car go by on the street. He turned to me and told me that it was time to go back, and I understood. We began to walk back toward his house but the unmistakable silhouette of the police car in the distance had made a U-turn at the light up ahead and was now coming toward us. Fear struck me, I began to consider making a dash for the nearest potential hiding spot but it was to late, we had already been spotted and the police car began to pull up beside us. "Just let me do the talking" Eddie said very coolly as the car came to a stop. The car door opened and out stepped a female police officer. She started with some basic questions, "what are you guys up to, how old are you, do know what time it is?". We answered these questions with reasonable honesty, and as Eddie was talking she said "wait a minute, I recognize you". Eddie then said something along the lines of "ya I hang around this neighborhood a lot, my house is just right over there (pointing in the direction of his house)." At this moment I got even more nervous, the fact that she recognized Eddie couldn't be good news for us. "You guys know you are not supposed to be out this late right?" (we were still young and had curfew, I think I was about 14 or 15 years old when this happened, and Eddie was about 15 or 16). Right about now I got that feeling in my stomach, that feeling when you know you are going to be in trouble. This is the point where I would have given up hope, but thankfully I had the mastermind standing right beside me. The wheels in his head were turning, and I watched in disbelief as he conjured up a sob story within a matter of milliseconds. " Yeah, I know we aren't supposed to be out this late" he said. He then lifted up his arm which was holding a t-shirt, and said "but the reason why we came out here was to get this shirt, I had left it here earlier today on accident, and I didn't realize it was missing until now. I would have just waited until the morning to come and get it, but this is a shirt that my dad gave me, and I don't get to see my dad very often anymore". Although this was a complete pack of lies, she completely bought it. "Well, nevertheless I am still going to have to call your house" she said. Eddie retaliated right back by explaining that he lives with his grandparents, and that they suffer from a horrible case of insomnia and if they are woken up they won't go back to sleep. As the lies continued to spill from his mouth, I grew more and more at ease, realizing that she was out of her element and stood no chance against my brotha. His magic was working, and there was no stopping him. Finally, she said that she would just call in the morning to tell his grandparents what happened. So Eddie gave her the number of a phone at his house that went straight to the answering machine, and the next morning when that message came Eddie simply deleted it. Problem solved, we were in the clear.
Many years have gone by since that fateful night, and I have to say that my brotha still holds the crown as the police deceiving master. The gift is still there in him, as strong as it ever was and when the time comes to break it out he always comes through with flying colors. It is a gift he possesses, a misunderstood talent that does not go away, and I always know that I can rely on him when the police jump out of the shadows.
This particular story takes place during my freshman year of high school. This was the year I met Eddie, and began a friendship that would yield years of irreplaceable memories and unforgettable times. I still remember the first time I witnessed Eddie's ability to deceive an entire audience, only this particular instance wasn't with the police but with a group of skaters who were hanging around outside the front of Branham after school. I stood there in disbelief as he explained to the whole group that he was going to be featured in an upcoming Transworld Skateboarding magazine doing a kickflip nosemanual 180 out at Monroe. Although this was a blatant lie, what amazed me was that nobody even questioned it, everybody just kind of stood there slightly dumbfounded. I didn't understand this at the time, but what I was witnessing at that moment was a rare skill that would save me from the clutches of the law more times than I could imagine, and would keep me safe from many unpleasant conversations with my parents. As the years passed, I grew more and more fearless when engaging in mischievous activities because when Eddie was there his skill of verbal trickery made us unstoppable. One time it even saved us from getting arrested, but that is a different story.
As I said before, there have been many instances when Eddie and his ability to fabricate stories on the spot has saved us from facing the consequences of our carefree actions. This is an account of one of those instances. It was a cold winter night, and Eddie and I were lying awake in his room at Calle Larga. It was a Friday night I believe, and we were both resting after a long day of school and skateboarding. Since we had marching band practice the next morning, I was spending the night at his house. We were just laying there talking and relaxing, I curled up with some blankets on the floor and he laying on top of his bed, but when 2:00 am rolled around the itch hit both of us. Although it was late at night, our skateboards were calling out to us and we knew there was no choice but to hearken to the call. With Eddie's grandparents sound asleep just a few doors down the hall, we quietly slid open his sliding glass door and crept out onto the balcony. Although the late hour and the cozy wrap of bedsheets had begun to fatigue me, the second I stepped out onto that balcony the cold night air revitalized me immediately and I was as alert as a fat kid anticipating his next meal. Eddie climbed out over the balcony barrier, and made his way down to the driveway where I handed him our boards and then began my descent. Why we went through the trouble of climbing his balcony and scaling down the side of his house instead of simply going down the stairs and walking out the front door is still a mystery to this day. When I was safely on the ground, Eddie handed me my board and we slid out the hole in his fence into the Los Gatos night.
The place we went to skate was a 3 stair located in an outdoor plaza right by his house. I would always remember this as the night I almost landed my signature nollie hardflip down the 3 stair, and back then coming close to landing a trick was just as good as actually landing it. Eddie had a successful night there as well, throwing 360 flips and frontside halfcabs down the beastly 3 if I remember correctly. Nonetheless, we were both feeling a great sense of accomplishment and were very pleased with ourselves. The only thing that could hinder our spirits was getting caught by the police, and being that we were just a short walk away from Eddie's home we figured we were in the clear. But as we were skating the 3, misfortune struck. Eddie saw with his radar-like police detecting eyes a police car go by on the street. He turned to me and told me that it was time to go back, and I understood. We began to walk back toward his house but the unmistakable silhouette of the police car in the distance had made a U-turn at the light up ahead and was now coming toward us. Fear struck me, I began to consider making a dash for the nearest potential hiding spot but it was to late, we had already been spotted and the police car began to pull up beside us. "Just let me do the talking" Eddie said very coolly as the car came to a stop. The car door opened and out stepped a female police officer. She started with some basic questions, "what are you guys up to, how old are you, do know what time it is?". We answered these questions with reasonable honesty, and as Eddie was talking she said "wait a minute, I recognize you". Eddie then said something along the lines of "ya I hang around this neighborhood a lot, my house is just right over there (pointing in the direction of his house)." At this moment I got even more nervous, the fact that she recognized Eddie couldn't be good news for us. "You guys know you are not supposed to be out this late right?" (we were still young and had curfew, I think I was about 14 or 15 years old when this happened, and Eddie was about 15 or 16). Right about now I got that feeling in my stomach, that feeling when you know you are going to be in trouble. This is the point where I would have given up hope, but thankfully I had the mastermind standing right beside me. The wheels in his head were turning, and I watched in disbelief as he conjured up a sob story within a matter of milliseconds. " Yeah, I know we aren't supposed to be out this late" he said. He then lifted up his arm which was holding a t-shirt, and said "but the reason why we came out here was to get this shirt, I had left it here earlier today on accident, and I didn't realize it was missing until now. I would have just waited until the morning to come and get it, but this is a shirt that my dad gave me, and I don't get to see my dad very often anymore". Although this was a complete pack of lies, she completely bought it. "Well, nevertheless I am still going to have to call your house" she said. Eddie retaliated right back by explaining that he lives with his grandparents, and that they suffer from a horrible case of insomnia and if they are woken up they won't go back to sleep. As the lies continued to spill from his mouth, I grew more and more at ease, realizing that she was out of her element and stood no chance against my brotha. His magic was working, and there was no stopping him. Finally, she said that she would just call in the morning to tell his grandparents what happened. So Eddie gave her the number of a phone at his house that went straight to the answering machine, and the next morning when that message came Eddie simply deleted it. Problem solved, we were in the clear.
Many years have gone by since that fateful night, and I have to say that my brotha still holds the crown as the police deceiving master. The gift is still there in him, as strong as it ever was and when the time comes to break it out he always comes through with flying colors. It is a gift he possesses, a misunderstood talent that does not go away, and I always know that I can rely on him when the police jump out of the shadows.
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