By Madeline Harris
Brian Zieske is electric! As an experienced sound engineer, he’s a sonic conduit and helps artists’ visions become realities. He uses a hybrid production approach that, on the one hand, preserves the realness of analog recording, and on the other, sharpens and refines it digitally. He is fueled by the soul behind live music, and uses his attention to detail to capture and harness the vitality generated by a song. He emphasizes tuning into the energy (figuratively and physically) of music and tailoring sounds that are full of life, punch and color. I sat and chatted with the sound engineer about his process, and topics that came up were: the pros and cons of home recording, the rationale of hybrid techniques, and the influence of The Beatles.
Zieske moved to Provo about a decade ago and works freelance with artists across the country. His background in music production is traced to his teenage years in Illinois playing bass in a mediocre (word substitution) band who got their hands on a 4-track tape recorder. Beginning to dabble in the production side of things, Zieske grew to be fascinated with well-made records “that got really creative with the sound.” When I ask who comes to mind when thinking about recording influences, without hesitation, Zieske replies:
“The Beatles. The way they stopped touring, because it felt like a ‘gig’ to them, and spent so much time recording. And they did so much with sound, and were really revolutionary in the recording process. They had the chops, too, and they matched that with the artistry in their recording. They were primitive pioneers.”
Zieske studied Audio Arts at Columbia College Chicago, and, for a brief time, worked under the legendary sound wizard Steve Albini. Albini was known for his ability to make recordings feel impossibly present by dissolving the barrier between live sound and the finished product. Producing most famously for Nirvana and Pixies, Albini revolutionized the industry by attempting to preserve and capture the essence of raw sound. Zieske’s approach when recording is very much along the same lines. Notably, he has worked on albums for The Academy Is… and The Hush Sound.
“I maxed out a bunch of credit cards to open up a studio in Chicago and buy a 24-track. I was mostly working with Midwest emo and rock bands on analog gear,” he says.
When the economy got shaky, Zieske sold the studio (but importantly, kept the analog equipment like the treasure it is) and moved to Georgia. “It was a cool scene down there. There was a lot of gospel stuff and Christian country,” Zieske notes. His experience by this point had been broad and genre-crossing, but he always carried with him an interest in working with more artistic indie music. After falling in love with mountain biking, and moving to Utah because of it, Zieske found himself “busy immediately” with no shortage of indie music opportunities.
“The best is when you’re recording and the whole band goes on a journey. You never know where it’s going to go, and it’s infinitely variable when you get into textures, tones, and sound. On analog, you can never recreate the exact same sound– it’s different from day to day. It’s affected by the humidity, by the sun. Really, it’s very alive voltage-wise.” Zieske talks about the energy and soul that is lacking in many modern recordings, and expresses that home recording can enable perfectionism and overthinking, which ultimately may inhibit the art. Many digital processes strip music of the synergy and dynamism that otherwise would be present.
“Being able to close your eyes and really feel the sound instead of just seeing it on a screen is important,” he says. “When you can harness the vibrations and be able to feel music deep down or in the back of your throat. Analog equipment really is like an instrument that you’re adjusting and working with physically.”
One of the many woes of musicians everywhere is the challenge to capture a song’s potency in a recording that often robs it of its liveliness. “It’s a turn off” that many musicians face when going to record: the reality that digital recordings drain the vibrancy out of the art. And not to mention the long and laborious hours spent glued to the screen.
“You can’t beat the synergy of a live sound, and how naturally all the pieces blend together to create this energy,” Zieske explains. This is why there is so much appeal in analog recording and mixing methods. Don’t get us wrong – home recording absolutely has its place in a musician’s life. It’s budget friendly and widely accessible. Zieske knows, however, that it can be hard to emulate a deeply moving sound when recording at home. “That’s where I come in,” he notes.
He encourages clients to send him their recordings and communicate their vision, and let him execute the details. “I coach the mix… my job is to say ‘you’re overthinking,’” he explains.
Indie artists who may feel their sound engineering isn’t up to par are encouraged to continue with the flow and momentum of a song, and save the nitty gritty for later. “I can tell them to bump certain frequencies in the drums or turn the cymbals down” in a collaborative process that ideally flows fluidly. “Some artists have solid home recordings but are missing the ‘X factor’ and can’t figure out what the song needs.” Zieske’s role is to tap into tone and bring life to the song.
“I appreciate when artists give me a little punch back. I want to make sure it’s perfect, and I tweak it until that happens. The last 1 percent is everything! Figuring out how to make it all click.” Zieske wants the artist to be stunned and says it might be the most rewarding part of the process.
Since operating in Utah, Zieske has worked with artists such as Michael Barrow & the Tourists, Brother., and is currently working on a record with Bad Luck Brigade. More than half of his clients are based out of state, and though the genres and styles range widely, Zieske’s precise and poignant execution remains the same.
An album that Zieske is currently digging is Offering by Cults. If you’re interested in working with him, check out his website and his Instagram.