Background

Out of The Decadent Few & The Railway Children (Welsh version) comes the creative genius, Tone H. These doodles above.......and another mind-scribble......belong to Tone H.

The 2nd doodle has a reference to the Jules Rimet trophy, I reckon, since his Italian heritage got the better of him, when it came to football.

The Decadent Few were part of the independent Z-Block records setup in Cardiff. Some brilliant artists cut their teeth on this label. Many disappeared forever.

Here’s a snippet of them doing the brilliant “World In Action” which was never released. [1980]

Tone H’s hand-written lyrics for the unreleased single

Young Marble Giants are probably the most notable. However, Spike Reptile & another associate, Green, of Scritti Politti, held my attention.

Tony loaned me a cassette, a compilation of new artists. I listened to it and asked him to make me a tape, too, but only the artists which I presented to him in a list. I suggested that those in the list would be huge one day.

This is that list:

Scritti Politti - Skank Bloc Bologna

The Cure - A Forest

Young Marble Giants - Searching For Mr Right

Echo & the Bunnymen - Pictures On My Wall

The Decadent Few - Burning Caroline

The Monochrome Set - The Puerto Rican Fence Climber

Reptile Ranch - Young Executive

Siouxsie & the Banshees - Switch

I used to take this tape everywhere, even on holidays abroad. I was always spreading the gospel.

Daft Anecdote no.1:

A couple of years prior to this I’d toyed with the idea of a group. The names?

Dick Sick & the Vomits

Youth & AZ Axe

Great, eh?

Tone H was a writer and guitarist. He wrote for the studio. Everything in his head he could hear as a sound-painting.
Not many have this skill. If you saw him with a guitar, you would probably laugh.
When we played live, people would always be generous, then say, 'You need to get rid of that guitarist!'

Daft Anecdote no.2:

When he ventured to London, he would visit some of the musicians who were attempting to break into the business. Many were shacked up in dreadful conditions, taking over uninhabited houses in Camden Town and elsewhere. There he met Orange Juice, who finally were getting somewhere with ‘Rip it Up.’ They’d been on the Postcard label for some time. Also, he ran into Green from Scritti Politti. He was going grey with apoplexy. He’d got a deal with Rough Trade and was worrying about the finance. He’d produced about six mixes of ‘The Sweetest Girl’ and had given them to Tony for his view. He once gave me the tape. It was good. I’ve no idea what happened to that tape. I wish I’d copied it! However, back to the anecdote. Another band was residing in this house (a band on every floor), called The Janet and Johns. They needed a guitarist, so they asked John McGeoch. He declined since he was joining Siouxsie & the Banshees. So, they then asked Tony. He came up with my favourite Tone H quip of all time.

“No thanks. I’m staying with Woody.”

The Record & Rockfield

We got a disc made, a 45. [1983] Vinyl had an aura. There are pics of it below. We sent some copies out to studios and radio stations to test the water and see what interest there was. Kingsley owned Rockfield in Monmouth. Amazingly, he got in touch with me, saying he liked the sound. He was fascinated by the production.

Perhaps it was the proximity to the latest experimental Teardrops' material (which remained unreleased for decades). So off we go to meet him to chat about all sorts, from his obsession with Elvis to moaning about Geldof who had been "popping in.” Bob was then at a very loose end, career-wise. A year later he was driving Band-aid.

An example of the white labels sent out to radio stations

The local Press were now behind us and we got a play on the radio. Sound.

So we’re all set then to record at Woodfieldside Studios (near Rockfield) with Paul Cobbold. Unfortunately, in November 1987 Tone H was involved in a fatal car crash. Dreadful. I dedicated a new song to him, called ‘Dark Dark Days’ and put the guitars away forever.

That was the end of that.

Life’s A Cakewalk: The Bedroom Studio

Sometime in the early 90s I was browsing the music magazines, like Uncut & Record Collector, when something caught my eye. There was a cover of Sound on Sound with a picture of some software and some blurb about recording with computers. Intrigued, I bought the magazine and went home to see what it was all about. At that time I didn’t realise that I was about to embark on a very slippery obsessive journey, involving the exchange of many ££££££££££!

Following months of reading and detailed research, I invested in a magnificent Compaq 486 computer. It had an enormous drive of 250Mb (compressed to allow for 500Mb at a push) and lashings of memory, 4Mb RAM! It also featured a CD drive to cater for my new-found curiosity of CD-ROM discs. This was cutting-edge stuff. To top it all, I purchased a new version of Cakewalk Home Studio and began the process of learning to operate a sequencer. However, I had a problem. No sounds.

It wasn’t long before the next major investment, some MIDI gear, to allow the sequencer to talk to something which made a noise! I remember vaguely a small midi interface, possibly a 3 - 1 type, probably a MIDIMAN product. To connect to the interface I bought a Korg X5 keyboard, an amazing device, with hundreds of on-board sounds and a neat dedicated PC interface. Now the sequencer could record all the key presses and play them back while I sat there mesmerised. The Korg had plenty of keys and octaves. It was time to relearn my piano skills.

Several months passed. More Sound On Sound magazines were consumed. I started to crave multi-track audio, not just multi-tracked and layered midi sounds. We were moving house and one of my requests was a room for my small setup. No problem. Just needed a table. So, the spare bedroom will do. This is where hundreds of people fall into the trap of creating a bedroom studio of some type. I was no different.

By the end of 1996 the equipment list had expanded. Now there was also a digital 8-track recorder (audio) and a 16 channel 8-buss mixing desk. Naturally the recorder connected via MIDI to the computer too. This was staggering. Shortly after came an FX unit for the mixer and later a new standalone sampler. So the Korg, the sampler and the recorder were all chained to the computer. Amazing. Gradually, the guitars were retrieved from the attic and a new musical adventure began to take shape. 8 tracks is more than sufficient, especially with unlimited sampler sounds triggered from a sequencer on a computer. Quite an arsenal.

Gradually, the Compaq 486 was becoming a tad outmoded. It was rock solid for sequencer-timing but could not handle much in the way of audio. Another big splash in the ££££ happened with an investment into one of the most important devices to date, an Apple mac computer. Although Atari were behind the explosion of dance tracks, Apple computers were the standard-bearers for the latest developments in the creative sector. So, in comes a G3 beast, with a massive hard drive (4Gb - partitioned, 2Gb for programs & 2Gb for audio). 64Mb of RAM was the icing on the cake. Fully-loaded with state-of-the-art software, such as Bias Peak, Cubase VST (now capable of combining audio and sequencing in one package) and links to samplers. OS 8.05. Haha! Heady days. It’s still working fine. I’m not one for any PC v Apple debates. A Mac is a PC anyway. They both have their merits and flaws. It’s a great computer, even if it clunks a little nowadays. Bias Peak was used to make Toy Story, so it’s fine by me.

Then came a massive headache, the scariest problem anyone can face, children!

It was the end of the road for the bedroom setup.

The Construction of Plastic Parc Studio

What to do? Child incoming. Bedroom needed.

Why not convert the big double garage? It’s a huge space with a concrete floor.

So calculators out. Pens & pads out. Lists made and costs of building materials and soundproofing research and god-knows what! And then there’s the cost of all the equipment needed. Madness.

Nevertheless, a mate volunteered his building and carpentry skills and became the project manager. We started planning in 2000 and sometime in 2001(a space odyssey later) it was completed.
We had designed a two-room setup, one as a control room and the other for recording in a dead space. We put in a floating-floor ( in case we ever sold up and the new occupants wanted to dismantle everything reasonably easily). However, this reduced the space inside and particularly the height to the ceiling. It was compact, cosy and very comfortable. There was plenty of room for a sizeable desk and rackspace.

It all came down to a budget. Sometime in the early 80s I’d gone to meet a bank manager to secure a loan on some property. He promptly suggested urinating in an opposite direction. Seeing my obvious disappointment, he must have taken pity and recommended I take out a savings plan instead. It transpired to be a 15 year thing with Standard Chartered (who, of course, promised huge returns, but eventually reneged). Anyway, fifteen years later the plan matures and coincides with the building of the studio. You can’t beat serendipity or a neat coincidence. (If you like that tale, head straight for ‘The Coincidence Diaries’ in the blog section of this site).

So, many thanks to Standard Chartered for sponsoring this project. You can take your hands out of your pockets now!

Things gathered pace quickly after the build with electrical work needed (the star earth system and loads of sockets). Orders went off for 24 track machines, FX units, compressors, stacks of cable and snakes, speakers and amplifiers and racking. What a bill. Wallet carnage.

The most fortuitous moment came when I took a punt on an advert and rang a number in Watford about mixing desks. That’s when I had the good fortune to chat to Tim of ‘studio-systems’ fame. He had a range of Soundtracs desks on offer, from the modest right up to the Jade, worth many ££££. Several phone exchanges took place and photographs were mulled over. I had decided to opt for one of two Soundtracs desks, both 32 or 36 channel frames with patch bays. They looked great and were big enough for you to sleep under when your missus kicked you out!

Then one day, out of the blue, Tim rang to say he’d sourced a Soundcraft desk which I may be interested in (he knew I was fond of Soundcraft). It was an unusual Sapphyre dual-frame unit, with gates built-in. That was different and a bit of a game-changer for me. It had no patch bay, but did offer 56 inputs on mixdown. That was more than enough.

In short, he’d found me a bargain, if I bought it. Of course, he revamped it and serviced it. He even drove it down to my place, on the promise of Welshcakes! He still offers advice now and has an enviable reputation with many professional studios all over the globe. There’s a link to his services in this section. These days he’s building power supplies for desks and they’re going like hot cakes (welsh, naturally).