Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Doors, windows, lights, cabinets.
Just a few of the items that were added to the studio this week. All of the interior doors got put in (though they have no handles as-yet), more of the crazy soundproof glass, and the kitchen cabinets. The bathrooms and kitchen are almost finished, now, too. And - I don't want you to get too excited about this - but they say we'll have power on Friday. I'll believe it when I see it. Meanwhile, the donkey head is still in the alley. There have been a few developments - we found some very strange correspondence in the garbage that the donkey head was left with - but until I have the whole story, I'll wait. I can tell you that there we found a phone number and an address, and someone was mauled by pitbulls. It all gets a bit weird from there. Here are some new studio photos:
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Donkey's head rides again.
Well, I know this isn't really studio construction news...but there is no studio construction news (another day of no one working on the building), so instead, I give you the continued saga of the donkey head.
So, some things about severed donkey heads I've learned: 1) On the fifth day, they don't really smell any more. Unless you're at really close range.
2) They are very hard to photograph.
3) The police do not care about severed donkey heads. Nor does Animal Control (I guess he's pretty well controlled at this point.
4) The mexican guys who run the Honda shop across the way recommended to me that I not eat any tacos for a while. I don't think that will be a problem.


Thursday, November 16, 2006
Head of a donkey.
Yes, that's what I found in the alley in the complex where the current studio is located...a severed, decomposing donkey head. What does it mean? Let me tell you folks, if someone ever tells you, "well, there are worse-smelling things than a donkey head decomposing in the Arizona sun," you can tell them that your friend Bob says that they don't know what they're talking about. If there is indeed a worse smell out there, I never want to get it anywhere near my nose.
Anyway, not a lot of activity at the new studio this week, though I'm not too sure why. Doors arrived Monday, and the bathrooms are pretty much tiled now, but other than that, I haven't seen too many workfolks down there. A couple of late-entry light fixtures arrived (one of which I installed myself!), but that's about it.
So you're asking me: what else is there left to do? Well, the oak floors were installed in every room but Studio A's control room - that floor was redesigned last week (of course) and the floating floor had to be cut up and new tunnels for cabling made before the floor guy could do it. And though all of the other rooms' hardwood has been installed, it all still needs sanded and stained and finished, and for that, we need power. Around the perimeter of each room's oak floor is a ring of carpet, and that needs to be installed. And of course the doors, the second layer of soundproof windows, and a few walls which have fabric on them. Once these things are done, we can start moving our equipment in there - and wait for all of that to be finished, including all of the audio wiring and all of that. Hopefully that won't be too long of a process, and I should be able to continue recording at the currect Flying Blanket location right up until we have to transfer the rack gear to the new place.
So there, in a nutshell, is where we're at. Hopefully I'll have something cool to report in a couple of days. 

Wednesday, November 15, 2006
More photos.
Here are some more views of the new studio - there's been a lot done since these photos were taken. All of the control room floors (except for Studio A's control room) have been put down (though they still need sanded, stained, and finished) and all of the first layer of soundproof glass has been installed. There's still another layer of glass to go, then there's a bit of carpet and some fabric that goes on the walls. Oh, and doors were supposed to arrive Monday and be installed, but I haven't seen anyone working there for the last few days, except the tile guys for the bathrooms. This might not be exciting for you, but man, those bathrooms are looking awesome. As soon as they're tiled, they'll be painted and have all of the fixtures installed, and then they are finished. I think the kitchen cabinets are going in on the 22nd.
That's the update for now. Still no power, of course. Why would you even ask?

That's the update for now. Still no power, of course. Why would you even ask?

Sunday, November 12, 2006
Let's see the thing.
Let's have some before-and-after action, yes? I will be posting a lot more photos in the days to come, but I thought I would tease you all with the following photos. The before photos are from very early in the construction. The after photos are from a week ago, and we've done yet more to these rooms since then.
The Huerta Room, after (hardwood floors have since been installed):
The Huerta Room (one of the studio's four tracking rooms), before:
The Huerta Room, after (hardwood floors have since been installed):
Saturday, November 11, 2006
The beginning.
All right, for those not in the know, I'm Bob. I run Flying Blanket Recording. I produce and engineer records for bands. I'm more of "a producer with some recording gear" than a full-service studio, to be honest. I don't really do much engineering for other producers, and I've never rented the place out to anyone (the one time I tried, I ended up just engineering everything but the bass anyway). I run the place by myself (well, if you saw it, you'd realize there's only space for one engineer there anyway).
In December of 2004, I got a partner who wanted to see Flying Blanket become (for lack of a better term) "a real studio." You know, the kind where the equipment pretty much always works and you can actually find that capo you put down just before lunch. The kind of place where you actually feel bad about that Thirstbuster you just spilled all over the floor. The theory was that we could attract some higher-profile clients (i.e., more label work) if the actual facilty was more fancy-pants. And come on, who doesn't like mixing on a Neve with Flying Faders?
The new studio will be a wonderful place. Two studios (double booking will enable us to keep us rates stupidly low) under one roof, separate lounges for each, plus a full kitchen, bathrooms, showers, and even laundry, as well as an "overnight" lounge, for when you're too tired to drive back home after a long session. Studio A will have a Neve 8078 with moving fader automation - the desk that used to be at famous Fort Apache Studios in Boston. Radiohead's Pablo Honey and The Bends were mixed on this desk, as well as a lot of my favorite bands, like Dinosaur Jr, Juliana Hatfield, Blake Babies, Buffalo Tom, Big Dipper, the Lemonheads, and the Pixies. We also bought four Studer 2-inch 24-track tape recorders, so we'd have backups if a machine went down (believe me, that can cause problems). The B room will have the same great Amek desk I have in the current Flying Blanket studio, only it has twelve more channels. And it'll have a Studer 2-inch 24-track in it as well, but we will have the dreaded Pro Tools available for use in either studio if you're really going to put a gun to my head (and pay for the engineer I'll have to bring in to run the damned thing for me). At the least, I'll be able to dump the lousy tracks you recorded at home on your crummy LE rig onto tape so I can mix them for you.
We also have a veritable museum of instruments, with twenty-four guitars and five basses, twenty-five amps, and twenty-three snares as well as six bass drums and two big shelves full of toms, all available for bands to use here at the studio. We also have a ton of keyboard instruments, as well as a ton of weird pedals and things, plus percussion (which I probably won't let you touch because you'll drive me crazy with it). Most of this stuff is vintage, and wonderful. (You can see photos on the Gear section of the Flying Blanket website.) We really want to build something more than just another big studio - we want Flying Blanket to be a unique hive of creativity, a place people are happy to be working in.
So we bought an old house in the historic district of Mesa and went about converting it into a recording studio.
Yeah, that's pretty hard.
Here we are, creeping up on the two year mark of our partnership and the purchase of the building, and we're still not open. Oh, I'm still working at the original Flying Blanket, but the new one still doesn't even have electricity.
I know what you're thinking. You probably want to know why. Well, get in line. According to everyone involved, the delays are someone else's fault. But I'm not trying to get all negative here. The studio is almost finished. And boy, will I be able to appreciate it. There's still some more work to be done on the studio before we can start moving in the recording equipment and doing the audio wiring (so who knows how much longer it will be before I can actually start rolling tape on those majestic Studers we bought), but we're hoping it'll be about two weeks before the main building is done (there's a separate building for bathrooms, kitchen, and another lounge).
When we bought the house, it had been converted into what every other old house in Mesa has been converted into in the last fifteen years: law offices. So since very little on the inside was still original (if you don't know me, you'll come to learn that I'm all about old school - probably to a psychotic degree), we gutted the place. Every interior wall was demolished and we built all new ones, totally rearranging the interior floorplan of the house to accomodate not one but two studios under one roof.
It took us a year to get blueprints finalized and approved by the City of Mesa and to get building permits. Don't look at me - I didn't hold anything up. I was fine with the first blueprint we made.
This year was spent on construction, and let me tell you, building rooms inside rooms is hard. Every wall isn't just a wall; it's three layers of wall, with airspace and insulation, and, in some cases, sand. Floors aren't just floors; they're compartmentalized floating floors filled with sand and then covered with vintage 1/2" oak (salvaged from early 1900s Appalacian farmhouses!). Everything that is normally simple in construction is more difficult than understanding the reasoning that led to a third Crocodile Dundee film (Crocodile Dundee in LA, for crying out loud!). Multiple layers of windows, doors, drywall, and my ridiculous attempts to make the whole interior look like the height of 1941 fashion certainly added up to slooooow construction.
(By the way, as a side note, there's a movie theater in my home town of Pittsburgh that closed down years ago, and it's still sitting there, rotting, and what is stuck on the final marquee? CROC DUNDEE IN LA!)
Anyway...so yeah, I was real picky about the authenticity of the old-school stuff, from forcing us to have every lightswitch be the old 30s-style pushbuttons to having them re-install the "cove" ceilings that were originally in the front rooms of the house. But things are really coming along, and I think we're on the home stretch now, though some copper theives slowed us down a while back.
This place is going to be great. You can continue to check here for construction updates and some photos here and there. We'll also be having an "opening party" (that is, if the human race is still in existence by then) and you can find out about that here too.
Want to see what we're dealing with here? Next post will have some photos.
In December of 2004, I got a partner who wanted to see Flying Blanket become (for lack of a better term) "a real studio." You know, the kind where the equipment pretty much always works and you can actually find that capo you put down just before lunch. The kind of place where you actually feel bad about that Thirstbuster you just spilled all over the floor. The theory was that we could attract some higher-profile clients (i.e., more label work) if the actual facilty was more fancy-pants. And come on, who doesn't like mixing on a Neve with Flying Faders?
The new studio will be a wonderful place. Two studios (double booking will enable us to keep us rates stupidly low) under one roof, separate lounges for each, plus a full kitchen, bathrooms, showers, and even laundry, as well as an "overnight" lounge, for when you're too tired to drive back home after a long session. Studio A will have a Neve 8078 with moving fader automation - the desk that used to be at famous Fort Apache Studios in Boston. Radiohead's Pablo Honey and The Bends were mixed on this desk, as well as a lot of my favorite bands, like Dinosaur Jr, Juliana Hatfield, Blake Babies, Buffalo Tom, Big Dipper, the Lemonheads, and the Pixies. We also bought four Studer 2-inch 24-track tape recorders, so we'd have backups if a machine went down (believe me, that can cause problems). The B room will have the same great Amek desk I have in the current Flying Blanket studio, only it has twelve more channels. And it'll have a Studer 2-inch 24-track in it as well, but we will have the dreaded Pro Tools available for use in either studio if you're really going to put a gun to my head (and pay for the engineer I'll have to bring in to run the damned thing for me). At the least, I'll be able to dump the lousy tracks you recorded at home on your crummy LE rig onto tape so I can mix them for you.
We also have a veritable museum of instruments, with twenty-four guitars and five basses, twenty-five amps, and twenty-three snares as well as six bass drums and two big shelves full of toms, all available for bands to use here at the studio. We also have a ton of keyboard instruments, as well as a ton of weird pedals and things, plus percussion (which I probably won't let you touch because you'll drive me crazy with it). Most of this stuff is vintage, and wonderful. (You can see photos on the Gear section of the Flying Blanket website.) We really want to build something more than just another big studio - we want Flying Blanket to be a unique hive of creativity, a place people are happy to be working in.
So we bought an old house in the historic district of Mesa and went about converting it into a recording studio.
Yeah, that's pretty hard.
Here we are, creeping up on the two year mark of our partnership and the purchase of the building, and we're still not open. Oh, I'm still working at the original Flying Blanket, but the new one still doesn't even have electricity.
I know what you're thinking. You probably want to know why. Well, get in line. According to everyone involved, the delays are someone else's fault. But I'm not trying to get all negative here. The studio is almost finished. And boy, will I be able to appreciate it. There's still some more work to be done on the studio before we can start moving in the recording equipment and doing the audio wiring (so who knows how much longer it will be before I can actually start rolling tape on those majestic Studers we bought), but we're hoping it'll be about two weeks before the main building is done (there's a separate building for bathrooms, kitchen, and another lounge).
When we bought the house, it had been converted into what every other old house in Mesa has been converted into in the last fifteen years: law offices. So since very little on the inside was still original (if you don't know me, you'll come to learn that I'm all about old school - probably to a psychotic degree), we gutted the place. Every interior wall was demolished and we built all new ones, totally rearranging the interior floorplan of the house to accomodate not one but two studios under one roof.
It took us a year to get blueprints finalized and approved by the City of Mesa and to get building permits. Don't look at me - I didn't hold anything up. I was fine with the first blueprint we made.
This year was spent on construction, and let me tell you, building rooms inside rooms is hard. Every wall isn't just a wall; it's three layers of wall, with airspace and insulation, and, in some cases, sand. Floors aren't just floors; they're compartmentalized floating floors filled with sand and then covered with vintage 1/2" oak (salvaged from early 1900s Appalacian farmhouses!). Everything that is normally simple in construction is more difficult than understanding the reasoning that led to a third Crocodile Dundee film (Crocodile Dundee in LA, for crying out loud!). Multiple layers of windows, doors, drywall, and my ridiculous attempts to make the whole interior look like the height of 1941 fashion certainly added up to slooooow construction.
(By the way, as a side note, there's a movie theater in my home town of Pittsburgh that closed down years ago, and it's still sitting there, rotting, and what is stuck on the final marquee? CROC DUNDEE IN LA!)
Anyway...so yeah, I was real picky about the authenticity of the old-school stuff, from forcing us to have every lightswitch be the old 30s-style pushbuttons to having them re-install the "cove" ceilings that were originally in the front rooms of the house. But things are really coming along, and I think we're on the home stretch now, though some copper theives slowed us down a while back.
This place is going to be great. You can continue to check here for construction updates and some photos here and there. We'll also be having an "opening party" (that is, if the human race is still in existence by then) and you can find out about that here too.
Want to see what we're dealing with here? Next post will have some photos.
Well, people wanted to hear about stuff.
Yes, I am painfully aware of the irony of my having a "blog" (a term I don't even want to use because I worry it makes me seem like I might have heard of technology). But hey, folks are always wanting to hear about the new studio, what we've been doing, all of that. If my wife and boy and I go to a party, odds are good that I'll spend 92% of my time there answering folks' questions about the studio's progress, then discover that someone else drank all of the 6 Stewart's sodas I brought to the party before I could drink one.
Essentially, this blog is for the studio and its progress, but I have a tendency to digress, so it's hard to say what will end up here. I will try to keep it to the facts. (ah come on, who am I kidding?)
All right, so what do you want to know? I guess we'll start at the beginning. next post.
Essentially, this blog is for the studio and its progress, but I have a tendency to digress, so it's hard to say what will end up here. I will try to keep it to the facts. (ah come on, who am I kidding?)
All right, so what do you want to know? I guess we'll start at the beginning. next post.
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