I had to laugh every time the starry-eyed "interviewer" somehow stumbled into the shot, but I suddenly respect Moby a lot more.
I think this is a pattern, too: every time I see someone's workshop and the tools they use, I understand the product a lot more. It doesn't matter what the domain is; the tools fascinate me. If I don't respect the tools, then I don't respect the product as much. I think this is where Autotuner comes in... Although as an aside, I do have a lot of respect for the autocorrelation maths that lurk beneath the surface of Autotuner.
I also got a gestalt feeling of loneliness from the interview. I used to jam with some friends between 2004-2008, and when I moved across the continent, I lost a really major social aspect of the musical experience. Like Moby said, you don't have to wait around for everyone to get their schedules in order if you're a one-man show, but it's not as much fun either. It's also more work to make sound...
Live music with several people can just happen, once you've set up. Multitracked, solo music involves as much process and perseverance as it involves technique and vision. I think the quality of my solo work is better because it's more intentional, but the live and social experience of jamming feels much more humane. Not surprisingly, it's more spontaneous, and with the warts and everything, it feels more genuine.
Sure, when you take a band into the studio, you get the whole "process and perseverance" aspect back, but with solo music, you never get to leave the studio.
More than anything else, I think the reflection on "drum machines as church organ accompaniment" captures the interview. To echo jnorthrop's comment (i.e. that Moby's studio is devoid of art) it seems to me that the term "studio" isn't apt at all. It's the Church of Moby, where we speak in whispers and wait for the right moment to listen, for the first time, to "ancient" electronics.
Its amazing to me that as an artist Moby's workspace is completely void of any art, or even color. It looks like he has his gold and platinum awards in a hall but everything else was either white or equipment.
I understand that is a certain aesthetic and I don't mean that as a criticism just an observation. In stark contrast check out the Gigapan of Wilco's recording space (http://wilcoworld.net/loft/gigapan.php).
Nerds have become a culture all their [our] own. Us trying to be 'cool' in the eyes of people who aren't even members of our little society is kindof silly.
What a collection of drum machines he has. My level of respect for Moby just went up. Electronic artists have software like ableton, fruity loops etc that takes you so far away from analog. It's nice to see this level of dedication and love.
Recently I bought an Akai S950, a popular sampler used by Moby (and others), and it is amazing how much better it sounds than a software sampler - especially if you route the 8 outputs through an old mixing desk and adjust EQ/level (and put a compressor on a drum through the Insert channel).
Better is subjective. The S950 is a 12-bit/48kHz sampler, which is pretty atrocious resolution by today's standards. Accuracy is less subjective, and one can quantitatively prove that a 24-bit/96kHz sample on a modern machine is more accurate than a 12-bit/48kHz sample (most users used lower sample rates to save memory and fit more samples in at once).
I happen to like gritty old sounds, too. Though I've gone even further back...I use a C64 and a GameBoy as my primary electronic instruments lately.
I think this is a pattern, too: every time I see someone's workshop and the tools they use, I understand the product a lot more. It doesn't matter what the domain is; the tools fascinate me. If I don't respect the tools, then I don't respect the product as much. I think this is where Autotuner comes in... Although as an aside, I do have a lot of respect for the autocorrelation maths that lurk beneath the surface of Autotuner.
I also got a gestalt feeling of loneliness from the interview. I used to jam with some friends between 2004-2008, and when I moved across the continent, I lost a really major social aspect of the musical experience. Like Moby said, you don't have to wait around for everyone to get their schedules in order if you're a one-man show, but it's not as much fun either. It's also more work to make sound...
Live music with several people can just happen, once you've set up. Multitracked, solo music involves as much process and perseverance as it involves technique and vision. I think the quality of my solo work is better because it's more intentional, but the live and social experience of jamming feels much more humane. Not surprisingly, it's more spontaneous, and with the warts and everything, it feels more genuine.
Sure, when you take a band into the studio, you get the whole "process and perseverance" aspect back, but with solo music, you never get to leave the studio.
More than anything else, I think the reflection on "drum machines as church organ accompaniment" captures the interview. To echo jnorthrop's comment (i.e. that Moby's studio is devoid of art) it seems to me that the term "studio" isn't apt at all. It's the Church of Moby, where we speak in whispers and wait for the right moment to listen, for the first time, to "ancient" electronics.