Corporate Cardigans, Shirts & Ties, MOR, Doing Things By-The-Book... Yawn-Out-Loud - Part 3
CBS Whitfield Street (1982)
Corporate Cardigans, Shirts & Ties, MOR, Doing Things By-The-Book... Yawn-Out-Loudβ¦
Part 3 (of 3)
Continued from Part 2
I started working at CBS London Studios, 31-37 Whitfield Street, at about the end of April 1982. I left CBS four months later. Why?
This three-part article tells my story.
For a fuller taste perhaps also read these articles:
CBS Whitfield Street Studios (1982)
Studios One and Two were on the ground floor. All the offices and meeting rooms were on level two. On level three there were all the mastering/cutting and dubbing studios. My memory is a bit sketchy here, Iβm not sure if the maintenance workshops were also on this floor or the floor above. On the top floor was Studio Three.
During my short stint at CBS I worked in all three studios and I also sat in on some sessions in the mastering/cutting room and dubbing (tape duplication) studios. It was an intense four months. Below is an example of a worksheet to give you some idea. βMRβ is the chief audio engineer, Mike Ross-Trevor. βMCβ is Mark Chamberlain. βWSβ is Walter Samuel (Iβm coming to him soon). βATβ is Andy Todd (Iβm coming to him too).
The Cutting Room Floor
I have a very clear memory of two very kind and friendly people from this floor. Tim Young (the mastering/cutting engineer) and Crissy D (a tape duplication/dubbing engineer, her surname was long and Greek and I donβt recall it, but I'm sure it started with D).
Tim Youg is probably one of the UKβs foremost cutting engineers, look him up, literally, he mastered thousands of recordingsβ¦ He was incredibly friendly and informative, and I remember that on his wall he had a gold disc (I think it was gold) of The Clashβs 1979 album βLondon Callingβ, which he mastered and cut. Itβs one of my favourite albums ever, and sounded great on vinyl (the only way to listen to it back then).
If it werenβt for Tim I would not have fully understood the whole vinyl mastering/cutting/pressing process β he talked me through the whole thing, every stage, and showed me the tools that a mastering engineer used. Back then this was a cutting lathe, an audio console, and an array of outboard gear, mainly compressors and equalisers and noise-reduction tools (Dolby being the industry standard back then).
Crissy D was a tape duplication engineer. At the time Crissy was secretly Mark Chamberlainβs girlfriend. I say secretly loosely because everyone knew apart from the senior management, because relationships between staff members were frowned uponβ¦ I remember her being a lovely person and she became friends with my girlfriend (and several of her friends) so we were in the same friendβs circle for several years.
Mainly a duplication engineer made duplicates of master tapes (the duplicate was called a βsafety masterβ) for the CBS tape library, and also bulk duplication runs of cassettes β mainly for private distribution to record company execs and producers, radio DJs, and for CBS recording artists (so they could listen to their recent work at home or in the car). These engineers may also make edits of a master recording (or a copy of a master) to create alternative (longer, shorter, differently-ordered) versions.
I think there was one other mastering studio and two or three duplication (dubbing) studios at CBS. I recall two other mastering and duplication engineers, who were very friendly to me, and we hung out a bit in Studio Four (aka The Valiant Trooper pub). One was Andy DaCosta, and the other was Steve Shin.
There are two other members of the technical staff I remember, one by name, the other just from brief glimpses of his appearance.
One was a senior studio maintenance engineer, the extremely friendly and always smiling, Dick Palmer, who basically with Mark Chamberlain explained and helped me to understand the MCI JH series consoleβs automation.
Finally, there was a much older German senior audio maintenance engineer. I donβt recall his name. If memory serves, he had previously worked for Neumann in Germany and for Neve Electronics in the UK during the 70s. There was an old analogue Neve console in Studio Three, and dozens of Neumann mics everywhere at CBS (some of these mics, especially the vintage valve U67s and 87s, were worth thousands of pounds even back then). This guy was old, quiet, and grey (both his hair and his skin). He wore a darkish brown technicianβs lab coat. He had pencils, pens, rulers etc in his top pocket. He was slightly hunched over, elusive, mainly in the background supervising the other maintenance guys, and he hardly ever looked directly at you β but if he did, well, you knewβ¦ smokey, silvery, blue, vein-shot piercing eyes, that fixed you instantly. He spoke very quietly with an almost unintelligible German accentβ¦ He gave me the creeps. Later, much later, like ten or fifteen years later, I would begin to meet people from the former Soviet East Germany, the DDR. Many of them had a similar manner and countenance to this senior maintenance engineer β theyβd seen and experienced things we in the Free West couldnβt comprehend or imagine.
Studio Two
Studio Two also had a fully automated state-of-the-art MCI console (the same as in Studio One), however, both the control room and the studio itself were smaller and more geared for recording bands and artists, not orchestras.
I worked on several sessions in Studio Two, with several engineers (including Mark Chamberlain) and producers, but mainly I worked with a CBS in-house engineer named Walter Samuel, mainly on short overdubs (so, for example, adding a lead vocal take to a backing track of an existing recording of a song) and mix-down sessions β the final step in the creative recording process (the step before mastering and cutting).
What to say about Walter Samuel? Firstly he was a great bloke, a real gentleman, very friendly and kind. Charming. He was kind of the corporate go-to MOR (Middle of the Road) sound engineer. Now, to be clear, Iβm not saying that in a disparaging way, Iβm simply stating fact. Was MOR my cup of tea back then? No. Definitely NO. Was it my motherβs cup of tea? Oh yes! Was it a big thing financially for the music industry? Oh yes! Probably one of the biggest and safest sectors in the entire industry. Did it interest me in any way? Nope. To give an example of what I mean by MOR, think of the ballad βThe Power Of Loveβ by Jennifer Rush, who Walter worked with more than once.
Walter was a first-class sound engineer. I think he was originally from Malaya, well-spoken, well-educated, smartly dressed (see smart mixing jacket in the photo above with Jennifer Rush) and, well, just very normal and down-to-earth. If you met him socially and you didnβt know what he did for a living, youβd probably never guess that he worked in one the biggest recording studios in the world as the A-list MOR SoftRock eliteβs go-to sound engineer! From what I could see Walterβs engineering style was no frills and methodical. He did not use mountains of outboard gear (unlike Mark Chamberlain β see photo below), he just stuck to the basics and got everything sounding very good, clean and balanced, and Bobβs-your-Uncle β MOR magic. And thatβs what most MOR producers and A&R men wanted β play safe, nothing too adventurous or experimental, no bells and whistles.
Donβt get me wrong, Walter could add bells and whistles if you wanted them, he knew how to do that, and how to do it expertly, itβs just that he would never presume to do so unless he was specifically asked β which rarely ever happened.
One of the main things Walter got asked to do was final mixdown sessions. So a producer would come to him with a track that had already been recorded on a multitrack tape and ask Walter to mix it, to make the final balanced version of all the material recorded on the tape. A mix of one song would take Walter maybe two days, possibly it could be done in one day, however, usually, heβd stop working after about eight hours, sleep on it and come back the following day with fresh ears to finish a mix off.
So during my four months at CBS I worked on several mix sessions with Walter.
Quite often the artist would not come in for the entire session, same with the record producer, theyβd leave Walter to do his stuff and come in towards the end to have a listen and maybe request some minor changes. So it was quite often the case that an artist or one or two band members and a producer would come in at the beginning of a session, leave again, and then come back later the following day or towards the end of the mixing session (which sometimes could be three days per song).
So in this way I very briefly met The Nolans, some band members of Earth, Wind & Fire, of Heatwave, and Shalamar, and⦠Julio Iglesias.
One weekend I was working with Walter in studio two on a mixdown session, the artist was Julio Iglesias. The plan was to mix two (possibly three, I forget) songs, to start on Friday morning and finish on Monday late afternoon. Walter told me that it would be just he and I, that maybe someone from CBS Records would come by, and that Julio himself probably wouldnβt come until after lunch on Monday, to have a final listen and maybe ask for some slight changes.
In 1982 in England Julio was massive! He was a huge star. At the end of 1981, heβd had the first ever Spanish language number one in the UK with "Begin the Beguine" (entitled "Volver a Empezar" in Spanish). Was I fan? No.
Anyway, late on Friday morning, around 11 am, the internal phone in Studio Two control room rang, it was Lisa, the receptionist/studio administrator. Julio Iglesias had just unexpectedly arrived in CBS studioβs private car park in a chauffeur-driven limousine. He was up on the office floor greeting the studio manager and some other CBS execs, and then he wanted to briefly come and say hello to Walter, heβd be along to the Studio Two control room very shortly β so, maybe, tidy it, quick!
I told Walter, who smiled pleasantly and casually said βgreat!β and got back to mixing
And a few minutes later in Julio came, alone. I was taken aback. This man had such presence, real charisma, he immediately filled the whole room. He was so smartly dressed, in a tailored suit, shirt and tie, and an overcoat over his arm, which he hung carefully on the coatstand as he came in. The fragrance of very expensive scent wafted everywhere as he entered. He was so charming, he greeted Walter so warmly. Walter in turn introduced me to Julio, who enthusiastically shook my hand, telling me with full eye contact and a big smile that it was a pleasure to meet me. He spoke English with a very strong Spanish accent. This dramatic entrance, his charming manners and his scent instantly reminded me of PepΓ© Le Pew.
Julio began chatting with Walterβ¦ he asked him how he was, was he well, how was the family, how was workβ¦ lalalaβ¦
Then a very dramatically-gestured whirlwind Spanish explanation beganβ¦ he said he was going to be a bit busy today and over the weekend, he needed to get his haircut, heβd arranged to have dinner with a friend this evening to chat through some project they were planning, then tomorrow he needed to do some shopping, he needed some clothes, some shoes and some bits and pieces, maybe meet another friend for lunch if there was time, and on Sunday he wanted to go out into the countryside to rest and relax because he had a busy schedule coming up over the next few weeksβ¦ so (and finally he got to the point of what he wanted to communicate to Walter), he probably would not come in to listen to the mixes until after lunch on Monday, however, he totally trusted Walterβs judgement (so there was little or no discussion about the songs Walter was about mix), he knew he was in good hands, so (and now he kind of included me in the conversation) βboth of you try to enjoy your working weekend and Iβll see you both on Monday afternoon. Gracias. Adios. Ciao.β And with that, he waved us a fond farewell, took his coat and left in a flurry of charm, charisma, and general coolnessβ¦
Wow! I wasnβt expecting that at all. It was fun. Julio was a total charmer and way larger than life. I donβt think I thought any more about it, and about what Julio had said he was doing that weekend. I suppose I just thought heβd get into his chauffeured limousine and go do all of that stuff in London. I suppose that reveals how small and blinkered my world was back then, aged nineteenβ¦ because Julioβs limousineβs next stop was Heathrow Airport, where a Lear jet was waiting to spirit him away to Paris, where he got his hair coiffed in some prestigious salon, from where he then flew to somewhere in northern Italy (Milan I think), where he was booked into some five-star hotel and had dinner with a colleague. The next day was a clothes shopping spree (in Milan I guess), picking up some local bits and pieces, including black truffles, and then later he was driven to Switzerland, to Lugano, where he dined, and spent a relaxing Sunday at a spa by the lake, flying back to London after breakfast on Monday morning.
Julio imparted all of this to Walter (who took it all in his stride) in a brief dramatic whirlwind βthis is why Iβm lateβ type explanation when he finally came in very late on Monday afternoon to listen to the mixes Walter had been working on β which Julio immediately deemed to be perfect and needed no changes whatsoever.
I think this was the first time I realised just how parochial my teenage worldview was, and that there really was a jetset out there who were totally, well, jetsetting!
Studio Three
Studio Three was on the top floor. It was the smallest studio, with the oldest equipment. There was an old analogue Neve console, very similar to the Trident desks, very similar (high) quality, just different sonically but equally as good.
I did a lot of short (one or two-day) sessions in Studio Three, mainly with Mark Chamberlain. For example with Angie Gold, produced by Ben Finden, and several demos for CBS Records, for example with astoundingly good reggae group, Aswad. At the time Muff Winwood was a, if not the, principal A&R man at CBS, and he would quite often be at Whitfield Street Studios, and quite often be sitting in on sessions and even producing demo recordings for CBS artists or possible signings. Mark often recorded demos with Muff and I assisted on a few sessions. To be clear Muff worked for CBS Records, which was totally separate from CBS Whitfield Street Studios, however, obviously, he knew all the senior studio management, really well.
One day (or to be precise very late Friday evening) Mark and I nearly got caught moonlighting in Studio Three by Muff.
Muff had been working in Studio Three that afternoon (with Mark and I), heβd finished late and went for dinner at a local restaurant. Heβd forgotten something, left it in Studio Three, and popped back before going home. Jim, the night watchman, could not reasonably prevent Muff from going up to get it. Muff was a regular client (and he worked for CBS Records). He knew everybody, including Jim, on a first-name basis, so for Jim to refuse him entry (even if there was a session going on in Three) would have been super suspicious. Whilst Muff was going up to the top floor, Jim called Mark on the internal phone. He and I were in studio three mixing a demo. We jumped into action. I went into the main studio recording area and made it look like I was still cleaning up, coiling cables, and tidying away mic stands and storing mics. Mark got the tape off the machine quickly and started βzeroingβ (resetting) the desk. Our cover story was that after work weβd gone to The Valiant Trooper for a quick pint before clearing up after the session, we stayed much longer in the pub than planned, and had just come back to clean upβ¦ luckily Muff bought it.
The other audio engineer with whom I worked often in Studio Three was Andy Todd. Andy aka Toddy was a Londoner. He seemed to me to be a lot more savvy and streetwise than anybody else at Whitfield Street. He was a great guy, self-confident, very shrewd, quick-witted and funny, in a very different way to Mark, however, he could easily give Mark a run for his money when it came to jokes and banter, and having a pint or two or three.
At the time Toddy seemed to be doing a lot of work with one of Whitfield Streetβs main clients β the extraordinary Jo & Co, a really successful commercial broadcast music company (making music and sound bytes for radio jingles, adverts, TV and film theme tunes etc). I assisted on a few of these sessions. They were fast and furious, often very funny, and intensely gruelling. The musicianship and performance skills were beyond impressive, the speed with which these guys got things done and the level of preparation and attention to detail involved was incredible β yet, quite often it seemed, they would ditch the plan theyβd come in with, and spontaneously improvise, very often in front of their paying client (whoβd be sitting in observing their advert or jingle being created), so brave as well. The YouTube video below features Jo & Coβs β Paul Hart, and Joe Campbell.
My three-month review meeting with CBS Studiosβ manager β and why I left
Three months later, there I was, back in that office with Mr. Cardigan. From word go I sensed this wasnβt going to go well. I was doing my best to keep a respectful-looking, butter-wouldnβt-melt-in-my-mouth poker faceβ¦ I knew something was up, however, I didnβt know what it was, or how much the studio manager knew (or if he knew anything at all) about the illicit nocturnal recording sessionsβ¦
Without looking directly at me, the studio manager intently read notes on various pieces of paper in a foolscap file on his desk, he was silent throughout. He had my time sheets, which I could see also had additional notes written on them.
Eventually, he started talking without looking up.
He said that it had been brought to his attention that I had been late for work several times and that I had fallen asleep more than once during recording sessions, sessions with super important CBS clientsβ¦
βOh shit!β I thought to myself. βHeβs going to sack meβ¦β
Then he finally released the papers from his grip and looked straight at me.
I donβt remember word-for-word what he said, however, more or less his speechβs bullet points wereβ¦ that I had been hired as a βtraineeβ sound engineer, and that I wasnβt an assistant engineer or second engineer, and that it would take several years, assisting several audio engineers, on wide-spectrum of types of recording sessions, before I would be allowed to professionally sit behind the recording console and oversee a recording session at CBS studiosβ¦. it would be a very long time before I got anywhere near a paying clientβs fader on a recording session. It was all a very βitβs never going to happen, not on my watchβ type delivery.
As he was monologuing, I was kind of waiting for him to get to the moonlighting/youβre sacked bitβ¦ but he didnβtβ¦ it never cameβ¦ he didnβt know that I was already overseeing my own recording sessions and that I felt really at home doing itβ¦
His speech continuedβ¦ about how I needed to buck my ideas up, not be late for work, stay alert the whole time, buckle down, work hard, and, well, letβs see where we are with that in a few years down the roadβ¦
He ended this speech by saying that I should consider this as an official warning (regarding dozing off during high-profile recording sessions) and that if there was not a marked improvement in my time-keeping and attitude during the next three months, Iβd be out.
That was it. He didnβt ask me one question, or ask me to contribute anything from my side. He did not seem in the least interested. During the whole review meeting, I did not say one word.
I donβt really know exactly what was going on in my teenage head right then, I donβt have a clear recollection of my chain of thought, all I know is that I slept on it and the next day I came in and handed in one monthβs notice to the office administrator. During that month I had my feelers out to several other well-known London studios looking for freelance engineering work, in particular I was interested in assisting record producers who were also sound engineers, who knew what they wanted, but just wanted an audio engineer to do all the leg work for themβ¦
If youβd asked me back then, in 1982, why I decided to do this, well, I donβt know exactly what I would have said to you. Iβd hit the ground running and had a year of constant sink-or-swim experience in the fast-moving experimental ground-breaking Trident Studios. Iβd survived, intact, and Iβd loved it. Now Iβd had just three months at CBS, with a bunch of really fantastic people (I canβt emphasise this enough), yet from word go it did not feel right. In 1982 I did not have the life experience or vocabulary to express exactly why. Now, today, well itβs obvious. At that moment in time, CBS Whitfield Street Studios was very corporate, and very organised, with a hierarchy, strict procedures, and established protocolsβ¦ and to me, well, it simply felt claustrophobic, like being back at school, that review meeting felt like a reprimand from the Headmaster. I wanted something else, something much less restrictive. I wanted to spread my wings and challenge myself. It was that simple.
A day or two after I handed in my notice there were rumblings from the management/administration level. During a senior staff meeting, the German senior audio maintenance engineer brought up an issue. More or less the issue was this. One recent Friday, late in the afternoon, before leaving for the weekend, heβd checked and tested a piece of recording equipment. It was to be used for a recording session the following Monday morning. On Friday said piece of equipment was in perfect working order (heβd checked it himself). On Monday morning the audio engineer doing the session immediately reported that said piece of equipment didnβt work. When the German maintenance engineer went to look he could see immediately that the equipment was damaged. Heβd double-checked the booking diary and there were no sessions booked anywhere in CBS that weekendβ¦ So how was it possible that something that was working on Friday afternoon was damaged and not working on Monday morningβ¦
At least for a few months, all moonlighting at CBS ceased, and my last month there turned into a very staid and boring nine-to-five existence⦠with a lot of sessions in Studio Four.
The worst part of leaving CBS, the most scary bit, was that I was now going to have to eventually explain it all to my mother... After a year and a half of me working in the music industry, Mum was very slowly coming around to the idea that I finally had a real job, with a real career path, with a big reputable company (that sheβd heard of). And that I was not just working with delinquent Punks and Rockers in Soho, in a "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll" industry. This change of heart had come about mainly because her son had been recently working with those lovely tuneful sisters, The Nolans, that ever-so-nice Irish flautist James Galway, John Williams (on Classical music no-less), and β most importantly, and most-gossip-worthly β with none other thanβ¦ the super-sexy continental jet-setter, Julio Iglesias.
Poor Mum, if only she knew what was around the cornerβ¦
Please note: I have another infotainment channel on Substack, called Unleashed & Unlimited, where I post podcasts, articles and content unrelated to music.ππ₯π
The Julio story is a riot, as is the story of your review meeting.
Those studios did look a bit dreary. Looking forward to seeing where you landed next (and how Mum thought about it).