Dangerous Incorporated
Guests
Part 1
On June 25 of this year, the world lost one of the most prodigious musical talents and greatest entertainers who ever lived. Keyboard had been in close touch with our friends working on the new This Is It concerts planned for London, including musical director and keyboardist Michael Bearden, supertech and regular Keyboard columnist Mike McKnight, and master sound designer Dave Polich. They’d intended to give us a comprehensive, behind-the-scenes tour of the talent and technology that went into this production, as soon as their work schedules and agreements allowed. We’d even been told that due to our June ’09 cover story on Bearden’s playing at President Obama’s inauguration, Michael Jackson himself was aware of the magazine and open in principle to doing an interview.
We can think of no better way to pay tribute to Michael than to explore the sounds that, for all keyboard players, are as indelible a part of his musical legacy as his soaring voice and inimitable dance moves. Below, we’re privileged to have Michael Boddicker — part of the Thriller dream team that included fellow keyboard titans Greg Phillinganes and Steve Porcaro — recall how key sounds on Thriller and Off the Wall were originally created.
Also, recording legend Bruce Swedien reminisces on a life of working closely with Jackson. Then, Dave Polich goes into painstaking detail about designing sounds and dividing keyboard duties on recent This Is It rehearsals. Don’t miss Dave’s “Billie Jean” synth bass tutorial here, and click here for exclusive info on the live keyboard rigs.
Above all, keep this music alive by playing the tunes and recreating the sounds yourself. —Stephen Fortner, Executive Editor
THEN: The Vintage Keys of Thriller
by Michael Boddicker
The recording of Thriller, now universally known as the biggest-selling album of all time, assembled an incredible creative team that was a life-changing experience to be a part of. From Michael to Quincy Jones to us musicians, all the way down the line, everyone was completely focused on making this record a game-changer. Here’s how we originally did many of the keyboard sounds.
The “Beat It” digital gong. Tom Bähler played a demo sound that came with his Synclavier — literally a factory patch, right out of the box. He had the good taste to discover and apply it in exactly the right place at the right time in musical history. Part of producer Quincy Jones’ production strategy was to assemble a team of people who were capable of writing, arranging, and producing records in their own right. Tom is a brilliant songwriter.
The “Human Nature” signature synth string part. That was Steve Porcaro’s track. He used a Yamaha CS-80 with glide (chromatic instead of portamento) at the head — it’s got that nice little CS fuzz around the sound. That fuzz was also part of a multi-layered sound I used for the four-chord basic string vamp on “Billie Jean” — Michael Jackson himself played that part on a CS-80 in one take. No punches. No repairs. No sequencers or time correction. Seven minutes. Perfect performance.
We fattened the pad a little on the body, and the line that counters the vocal on the second half of the first “Human Nature” chorus is my sound playing a line written by Rod Temperton. The sound and part were later supplanted by background vocals, but the basic, main lines, solo and most layers are from Steve Porcaro — based on a demo he wrote when he was 17 years old!
The “P.Y.T.” synth noodle that answers the chorus vocal. That was a Roland Jupiter-6 “wang bar”-style pitch bend doubled with, and controlling, a Sequential Circuits Prophet-5, thus the sort of smear you can hear on the “wobble” between the top two notes. I recall the keyboards were set on the very top of a stand so they were practically at ear level!
The big synth blasts that begin “Thriller.” A Roland Jupiter-8 in double four-voice mode, with the modulation “wheel” opening the filter. I was always afraid it sounded cheesy, but it’s withstood the test of time. There’s no shape to the sound, just a sort of fizz or buzz, until the hold where I close the filter. It was tracked multiple times with a slightly different timbre and tuning each time.
The main comping sound of “Don’t Stop ’Til You Get Enough.” Andy Leeds owned an Eddy Reynolds-modified, flat-top Rhodes 88. This was the same Rhodes used by David Foster and David Paich on so many hit recordings of the ’80s. We put that through my Paul Rivera-modified Roland CE1 chorus. The key ingredient, though, was keyboardist Greg Phillinganes, whose pocket is deeper than the Mariana Trench.
The lush pad on “P.Y.T.” (after Michael sings “I’ll take you there . . .”). It sounds multitracked, but really, it’s not. It’s a singletrack sample of Michael Jackson’s voice, done on an E-mu Emulator I — serial number 1, in fact! We then used this mode the Emulator had where you could sample the sound twice, then detune one of the voices while in “unison” mode. It was recorded with lots of top end added, and Bruce Swedien’s special reverb known as “spit.” Quincy Jones would say, “Sven, put some spit on it!”
The synth basses on “Thriller,” “P.Y.T.,” and “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’.” Those were my two Richie Walbourn-modified Minimoogs, set side by side, with engineer Bruce Swedien’s special multiple-mono compression.
On all of the great records I’ve been involved with — Cheap Trick, Lionel Richie, Toto, Barbra Streisand, and Michael Jackson — the producers made real decisions along the way. They didn't leave everything to the mix phase. It takes guts to make commitments. Bruce Swedien has an approach to recording that says, “What are you afraid of? If you don’t like it, let’s erase it and get it right.” Quincy Jones had guts and a tight hold on the reins. The rest is musical history.
Bruce Swedien on Michael Jackson
Left to right: Producer Quincy Jones, Jackson, and über-engineer Bruce Swedien, who worked on all of Jackson’s recordings. “Michael was the most focused musician I’ve ever known, with a supernatural work ethic,” Swedien told us by phone. “He’d do something over and over again until he felt it was perfect. At the same time, he was a warm human being — totally respectful of your time and ideas. He’d often do lyrics with the lights out, singing from memory. I don’t recall recording any other artist who didn’t have a lyric sheet in front of them. I also don’t remember him ever showing up to a session late; he was usually early. I’d also like to attest to the integrity of Quincy Jones, as Thriller changed pop permanently. At the first session, Q said, ‘We’re here to save the music business.’ And he meant it.” About the Michael Jackson whose personal life was subject to lurid media voyeurism, Swedien is emphatic: “Nope. I never met that guy.” -Stephen Fortner
Tracking the “Workin’ Day and Night” Brass
[Though not originally played on keyboards, keyboardists in cover bands are often called upon to play this monster horn line from the Off the Wall album. It features a rapid-fire sixteenth-note figure with many layers, and sounds like every other note is panned to the opposite side of the stereo field. In fact, that’s just what they did. –Ed.]
This was Jerry Hey’s horn arrangement, with the usual suspects playing: Chuck Findley, Larry Hall, and/or Gary Grant on trumpets, Larry Williams and Kim Hutchcroft on saxes, Bill Reichenbach on trombone — all incredible musical athletes who, under Jerry’s direction, actually split the chart to play every other sixteenth-note on alternately-panned tracks! At the same time, they were working the mics to create spatial dynamics. This was the pre-DAW days, dudes and dudettes! There was no time correction, just brilliant musicianship, conception, and execution — and Bruce Swedien’s engineering.
We sweetened the punches to put some “special sauce” on the big hits at the end of the break — but did they really need it? Bruce Swedien tweaked the EQ on a Harrison console. It took what in those days seemed like forever, but it was only maybe 15 minutes. This era was pre-cell phone and pre-video game. Everyone in the room was completely and utterly focused on making the best possible record . . . but I digress. Maybe Keyboard — or Psychology Today — will one day ask me to write an article on why such great music came out before the Internet, video games, and cell phones took over our corporate attention spans. -Michael Boddicker