Tim O’Brien 50 years Journal
Fifty Years
Entry # 5
TIM O'BRIEN
May 31, 2024
I’ve been a musician for 50 years. What has changed, and what has remained the same? What are the things I’ve learned, and what are the things I’ll never learn?
Touring:
Sleep and rest are more important now! On the run through the Midwest with the band in April, we had the choice: either play in a tiny venue for the door on a Friday night or take a night off and just drive toward the next show. The next show in this case was the Solar Strings festival in French Village MO, and we drove to an Airbnb close to the festival, slept in, and were able to hear Junior Sisk and Ramblers Choice play a set on Saturday afternoon at the same festival. In 1974, I know I would have voted to play the small venue. I tour more often these days in a duo setting with my wife Jan Fabricius, and we mostly fly somewhere on Southwest, then drive a rental car to two of three shows. For some band dates we can either drive a couple vehicles or fly and then rent a car and a minivan. Since Charlie Chadwick invented the folding upright bass, we sometimes stuff five of us in one minivan if the drives aren’t too long between shows.
In the mid 1970’s, Ophelia Swing Band played mostly in Colorado, with occasional forays to Wyoming, and once or twice to South Dakota. Bassist Duane Webster’s International truck – “crew cab” with four doors, a bench back seat, and a topper over the bed - was our vehicle, but mostly we used our own cars to get to shows along Colorado’s front range. In the summer of 1977, we scored a Chautauqua tour sponsored by the State Department of Humanities. We drove in a station wagon leased by the state, and played tent shows in small towns, performing two or three nights in each location along with other features: a modern dance company, a Shakespeare play, a comedian, and a stage band that played little bits throughout each evening.
Hot Rize started in 1978 with the original intention to promote solo records that Pete Wernick and I had made. Pete had a national reputation in the bluegrass world as did our guitarist Charles Sawtelle. While our means were modest, there seemed to be some good potential. Charles was the one who suggested we wear suits onstage like the old school bluegrass acts. He was always in favor of doing things in a professional way, and if that required an investment, he knew it would pay off in the long run. He owned a ’57 Cadillac, and he urged us to buy used 1969 Sedan De ‘Ville as a touring vehicle. Ours was black with a white vinyl top. We traveled around Colorado, New Mexico, Wyoming and Kansas in that vehicle, but also drove it to the east coast a time or two.
Here’s a link to a picture of a similar model, white with a black vinyl top:
https://www.volocars.com/vehicles/11818/1969-cadillac-deville
We could fit the banjo, guitar, mandolin, fiddle, and electric bass, and garment bags in the trunk. Later when we traveled with a sound system, we added a trailer hitch and rented a 4’ by 6’ U-Haul trailer. After a year or so we bought a used trailer and Nick and I painted it with black spray paint, leaving the top silver, so it sorta matched the Caddy.
Someone at a festival had told Charles Sawtelle, “You guys need to get a hound”, meaning an old Greyhound bus. The Bluegrass Cardinals and the Del McCoury Band had GMC 4104’s and that’s what we eventually bought. It had already been customized for a touring band. There was a sign above the windshield that said “Lo-Rance Trio”. We removed that sign, so now the old Greyhound route destination sign was visible. There were two spools just inside that destination window, around which was a roll of fabric with various city names on it. Whatever had fastened the spools to show a particular destination no longer functioned, so you’d never know where it said we were heading. On one of the first trips with that bus, we were opening for John Hartford in Winona MN. When we greeted John that day, he said, “Oh, is that your bus? I was wondering who “Chattanooga” was.” Nick Forster had been the long-haul, late-night driver in the Cadillac, and now he and Frank Edmonson were the main drivers, with Charles filling in. Charles and Nick remodeled the inside to include five bunks. We kept most of the front lounge area the same – green shag carpet on the walls and ceiling, a butcher block table, chair and couch, and a refrigerator that came with the coach.
Having our own bus meant we could sleep in the bus. Nick and Frank would drive four or more hours, then pull into a truck stop. In the morning we’d use the trucker’s showers, eat breakfast in the café, then be our way. If we had a free night before playing a festival, we arrived the night before and just sleep on the bus. We might park in a motel lot, rent one motel room and take turns using the shower. At many venues, the bus served as our dressing room. In those days we were sowing as many seeds as we could, giving LPs to musician friends and DJ’s. Having a bus meant we were serious about our band. Sometimes we took friends like Nugget mandolin maker Michael Kemnnitzer or musicians like Jody Stecher or Fred Weiss along on tours.
After a few years and a few record releases, we started getting better fees, and could afford to fly somewhere from Denver on a Thursday, rent vehicles and play three or four dates and then fly home on a Monday. We invested in flight cases for our instruments and gear. We had cases for t-shirts and records, and three rolling cases for amplifiers (for the bass, for Wendell Mercantile’s guitar and for Waldo Otto’s steel). Later we had a custom case made to check wardrobe items including Red Knuckles and the Trailblazers’ cowboy hats. It’s hard to imagine doing today what we did then. Denver was a United airlines hub, and Hot Rize road manager Frank Edmonson cultivated a relationship with a United Skycap named Chuck Davis. He was our best friend! We’d show up with over 20 pieces of luggage and give Chuck a 20-dollar bill and he’d somehow get them all on the plane. Chuck worked that gig longer than most, and there’s a plaque with his name on it by the United curbside check in now.
T-shirts brought in as much money as did record sales and Nick Forster was merch manager. We’d often meet mid-week before leaving home to pack LP’s and t-shirts for whatever run were about to do. After four or five years, we were using the bus less and less, so we sold it to a new group called the Subdudes. They quickly learned like we did that old buses can break down when you least expect it, and you seem to paying the bus more than you pay yourselves. By this time, we would occasionally hire a modern tour bus with a professional driver for short runs east of the Mississippi.
After leaving Hot Rize in 1990, my touring fees shrunk some, but by now airfares had been deregulated, and I could afford to fly myself and up to three others somewhere, then rent vehicles to get to shows. That same gameplan still works for me today. If the show is less than eight hours drive away, you might as well drive. If it’s farther away than that, fly to the closest airport, rent the vehicles you need and go from there. Sometime after I moved to Nashville in 1996, Southwest became the airline of choice. There are lots of nonstop flights from Nashville, you can check two bags free, and there’s no charge if you change your itinerary. Southwest isn’t as cheap as it used to be, but the other advantages remain. It’s bluegrass musicians’ favorite airline.
Live sound:
Ophelia Swing Band bought a used PA system about a year after we started. It had large speaker cabinets for mains and smaller ones for monitors, and we controlled the mix from the stage.
Charles Sawtelle had a sound company in the mid 1970’s, and he still owned much of the gear when Hot Rize started, and we eventually bought part of the system from him. It was a good sounding rig with a Macintosh power amp, Malachi mixer, and Klipsch speakers. Charles also mixed the sound from the stage, but hiring a full-time soundman Frank Edmonson was another stretch that really paid off. After we bought our bus, we added to the PA that we carried underneath in the service bays. Once we started flying to more shows, the PA would lay idle and we eventually sold it, but we still flew with a rack in a flight case that included outboard equalizers and compressors to interface with house sound systems, and we carried our own higher end microphones.
Hot Rize generally resisted using pickups on our acoustic instruments, but when I started on my own in 1990, I caved to the modern trend, but with a difference. Following the example of the members of Newgrass Revival, I set up each of my instruments with both a pickup and a miniature condenser mic, and bought a special preamp made by Newgrass’s soundman Richard Battaglia. Both signals came out of one stereo output jack on the instrument, which gave the house sound and the monitor sound more flexibility. Playing on bigger festival stages or in loud clubs, you could send the better sounding microphone signal to the audience, and use the pickup side for monitor sound with much less feedback problems. A great many current day bluegrass acts now use in-ear monitors (earphones) instead of monitor speakers, which makes for even more flexibility, and the ability to reach higher sound pressure levels without causing feedback. I’ve used in ear monitors when playing with Mark Knopfler and it’s really the only way to go when you’re mixing solid body guitars played through big amplifiers with acoustic mandolins and guitars. However, I’ve resisted using in ear monitors for my own shows, and in recent years, I’ve gone back to playing into a good old microphone.
Making records:
Ophelia Swing Band recorded for a folk label called Biscuit City that owned the studio, which was in a funny triangle shaped building near the intersection of Park and 17th Avenue in Denver. The main floor was occupied by a business that advertised itself as “Colorado’s only Venetian Blind Laundry”. The studio and the record company offices were up a steep staircase. Several of the local folk acts that could draw a crowd at the Denver Folklore Center – people like songwriter Randy Handley or dulcimer player Bonnie Carol - made records for Biscuit City. There were more professional studios in Denver where more commercial music was made, but the label didn’t have a budget to use those places where a band like Firefall would record.
Ophelia was quite ambitious with its music, and we had our arrangements down, but we were very green in the studio. We recorded our record, really the first project any of us had done, on an 8-channel multitrack machine. It was January of 1977. We sometimes used a single track for more than one part. For instance, if I recorded a harmony vocal on track 5, that meant that there were silent spaces in between the choruses. If all the other tracks were already full, and I wanted to add a second fiddle part that didn’t happen during the chorus, I could record that in the spaces between the harmony vocals. But maybe the two parts on the same track were very different in volume, and meanwhile if you placed the harmony vocal slightly to the left in the stereo spectrum, then the fiddle ended up there too even if you didn’t want it that way. Our engineer, Ty Atherholt, was willing to experiment with us. We were all low down on the learning curve.
Some folks get self-conscious in recording sessions when others are listening. Others thrive on distraction. Our lead singer, Dan Sadowsky had a hard time recording his vocal part one evening, and after a bit he asked if he could try it with the lights off in the room where he was singing. We did that and we all listened from the control room as he sang. It seemed to really help because he nailed it this time. We turned on the lights and saw that he was now completely naked. Washboard Chaz sang lead on one song and unfortunately, we didn’t get a good vocal sound because we recorded his washboard and vocal along with the band live. We learned at mix stage that you couldn’t turn up the vocal without getting more washboard.
It was all analogue, with no automation. To mix the sound, several of us would reach around each other from different sides of the console to move faders up and down as we recorded the mix output onto a different 1/4 stereo tape recorder. If you messed up one little move, that meant you had to do the whole thing again. That Ophelia Swing Band recording, “Swing Tunes of the 30’s & 40’s” came out the following summer. I think the track that Dan sang naked is “Knocking Myself Out”. It’s long out of print but you can hear it on Apple Music:
https://music.apple.com/us/album/swing-tunes-of-the-30s-40s/327731663
I quit the band a few months later and moved to Minnesota to be where my girlfriend Kit was going to school, but I came back to Colorado for the Chautauqua tour that summer. Biscuit City records asked me to make a fiddle record and I recorded in on days off from the tour with members of Ophelia Swing Band as well as with Pete Wernick and Charles Sawtelle. Pete also made a solo record that summer, and asked me to sing and play on it. He recorded at a new studio in Boulder called Mountain Ears. Andy Statman and Russ Barenburg came from the east coast to participate, with Duane Webster, Charles Sawtelle and I joining in. This was much more pro studio compared to Biscuit City, but everyone including the engineer was still on the learning curve. At one point Pete asked to hear more mandolin in the mix, and the engineer said, “Sure, which one is the mandolin?” We recorded on a 16-track machine with 2-inch tape.
With more experience, you (and the engineers) learned how to do things more efficiently. By the time Hot Rize was ready to record, we hooked up with a new studio called Colorado Sound, with Andy Smith engineering. It was also a 16-track, 2-inch tape rig, and we had the choice of recording at 15 or 30 ips (inches per second). You used more tape at 30 ips, but the sound is better, so we went that way. I can’t remember the price of a reel of 2-inch tape – maybe $75 – but again Charles urged us to spend a little more money to get better sound quality. At 30 ips you could record 15 minutes per reel. You’d get a pretty good take and then try for a better one. We tried to limit the number of takes we had to three. After you decided on the best take, you could record over the rejects to save money. We had our arrangements ready and had made some demo tapes at another pro studio with John Macey as engineer, so we were learning how to do it. That studio evolved and eventually moved to a bigger and better place, and a guy I’d worked with at Biscuit City, Kevin Clock, engineered several more Hot Rize recordings there. I made various solo records there with Kevin, as well as three recordings with my sister Mollie. It’s still there on West 71’st Avenue in Denver.
Promotion:
Ophelia essentially broke up before we had recordings to sell and we were too inept to make promo t-shirts to sell. But in the early days of Hot Rize we at least had t-shirts to sell. Pete Wernick and I sold our solo records too. Merch really helped fill the tank, first in the 1969 Cadillac, then in the GMC 4104 bus. The bus had lots of storage so we added more sound gear and stuffed the storage bays with cartons of LP’s, boxes of t-shirts, hats, bumper stickers, and even fly swatters! We could also carry gear that Red Knuckles and the Trailblazers needed – amps, other instruments, and stage outfits they used. With our own trusty soundman, Frank Edmonson, we were ready for most anything.
In those days, publicizing shows was in the promoter’s court. They, and later the record label publicist, might line up print and radio interviews and maybe even purchase some advertising. They took advantage of folk and bluegrass organization newsletters, and made sure their concerts appeared in local newspapers’ free listings. One of the first artists I knew to use a personal computer was John McCutcheon. He was ahead of the curve, using computer generated mailing labels for his own newsletters. The internet and social media have eclipsed physical mailings these days, and promoters rely more and more on the artists themselves to advertise shows. Along with that, there are more artists so competition is much greater. Social media is crucial these days, and I’m lucky to have such an internet savvy partner in my wife Jan, who handles those chores.
Record releases are a different game now as well. It’s common for artists to release three or four singles before the entire project is made available. In fact, the Tim O’Brien Band has a single out now, called “You Took Me In”, part of an upcoming release of Tom Paxton songs performed by bluegrass artists, that you can find on your streaming service.
When you bought an LP in my early days, you were making a real commitment and you rarely heard any of the music beforehand. It was harder to hear folk and bluegrass on the radio then. Now we have the internet and streaming. It’s easier to find a recording now, but it’s also easier to turn it off! Maybe the phone rings and you stop that new Sierra Ferrell song to answer. That said, YouTube is my favorite radio station these days, particularly for older recordings. When I want to hear Patrick Sky, Buzz Busby, or Washington Phillips, I look there first.