Technology continues changing so rapidly that sometimes we tend to lose sight of how far we’ve come in the last thirty years alone. I bet Thomas Edison would be delighted with the way things have progressed since his wax cylinder days. As you’ll read shortly, I’ve discovered an unexpected serendipity as I deal with exigencies of changing formats. And I think you will be, too, if you’re an aficionado of “deep listening” and endorphin-releasing soundscapes.

     My first recording sessions were done live to 2-track analog in 1968. We didn’t have the luxury of multi-track equipment or overdubbing. In fact, that was the impetus for learning to write charts for an R&B band. It had to be all there on paper for the other musicians to know what to play.

     In 1975, I heard about a new independent studio at a Christmas party. They had the first 8-track recorder available to artists who were not under contract to a major label. Having 8 tracks allowed me to play all the parts myself, without having to teach someone else what I wanted to hear. Without missing a beat, I booked their first available session. I didn’t know I was also the first client.

     At any rate, as of this date, the master tape that we recorded on is virtually unplayable. The current equipment is simply not back-compatible.

     There is another reason why it’s necessary to constantly back up archival copies of master tapes. Although we were told otherwise at the time, magnetic recording tape didn’t last as long as the manufacturers told us it would. What happens is that the adhesive holding the iron particles that are arranged by the magnetic fields dries out. When you play the reel, what you get is a pile of iron filings on the tape deck.

     Needless to say, this is a terminal situation. In many cases, I’ve been able to salvage enough of the original material to make a usable copy. Sometimes, it’s been too late.

     And sometimes, what transpires in the studio is a revelation.

Analog, Digital and Beyond

     Since I started my label, the music industry has gone through a number of format changes. On my earliest recordings, there was an inherent “oise floor”that was inescapable. It was due to tape hiss.

     It was always there. Why didn’t we hear it on our favorite albums of the ’60s and ’70s? Because a) we had nothing to compare it to, and b) the drums, especially the cymbals, were in the same frequency range and masked the hissing sound.

     Various “fixes” were employed to minimize tape hiss: DBX, Dolby SR, etc. These helped, but there were trade-offs in the clarity and purity of the tones. With albums like mine, which did not have drums, there was only so much we could do.

     Once digital recording entered the picture, things began to change. But not nearly as fast as the propaganda would have you believe. There still would be quite a lot of noise on a digital recording, due to amplifiers, microphones, and the inherent noise of the console itself.

     I recorded all my album on 2-inch 24 track analog tape until fairly recently. We’d then master both to analog and digital formats, and take the best of the best.

     Recently, the latest generation of recording technology has provided a quantum leap into so much greater sonic realism, it’s like going from black and white TV to color, or from standard TV to high definition TV.

     Having this new ally at my disposal, I have been revisiting recordings done over the past 25 years. Over the past several weeks, I’ve been immersed in my album Higher Ground. I was shocked out how much more detail and richness of sound was locked away on the original master tapes.

     I recalled my initial peak experiences when I recorded this album. I had just been introduced to a new keyboard that had a sound called “Merlin.” Indeed, its effect on me was magical. I’d play one of my favorite chords (D minor with suspended 9th) and was suddenly catapulted into outer space—or inner space.

     Words were irrelevant—what mattered was that I was instantly “in the zone.” I began hearing layers and layers of additional textures. The composition essentially wrote itself.

     Listening again, as we updated the soundfield, was hearing again with new ears. The same feelings came over me. And I was hearing subtle harmonies and melodies that I had never heard before—and I bet I’ve listened to this album more than most of you.

     Reality check time: I wondered if this were just my own subjective experience, due to my connection to the music, or whether it was an objective phenomenon. I asked my engineer to compare both the new and the original master, and then to describe his experience.

     It was essentially the same. There is so much more “there” there now that it is essentially a new master, on many levels. If you’ve heard the original, I invite you to compare for yourself. If you’re on my personal newsletter list, you’ll soon be receiving an offer to help us quantify our research.

     If you haven’t heard the original, this may be the time to journey on the magic carpet to your own “Higher Ground.”

     By the way, the album also includes the entire composition I recorded live when I was filmed for a segment on CBS-TV’s “48 Hours.” I showed the producer and crew how I could add certain “binaural beats” to demonstrably entrain their brains into a deep alpha state. They were blown away, and were gung-ho on sharing this with mainstream America.

     Alas, only a tiny portion of the soundtrack made the final cut. I think you’ll enjoy hearing what the rest of America missed.

     A final note: After a day in the recording studio, I usually listen to what I’ve recorded as I drive home. I put the CD in the player, put the car in drive, and floated down the road.

     Actually, I almost floated off the road. Instantly, I recalled that I included a strong suggestion on the liner notes when the album was released in 1991, and it’s even more true today: Do not listen while driving.

     It’s also true that you hear more clearly with your eyes closed, so this is also a fine candidate for headphone listening.

     Until next time, stay tuned.

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© 2006 by Steven Halpern. Steven Halpern is a pre-eminent composer and recording artist of music for meditation and healing. His most recent releases are Lake Suite and Initiation: Inside the Great Pyramid. Listen to samples at www.innerpeacemusic.com.

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