Hello, my name is Rafa Sardina.
I'm an engineer, mixer, producer, based in Los Angeles, California.
I'm originally from Spain, and I'm going to talk a little bit about
my whole journey, getting into music, getting into engineering,
getting into production, from a personal level,
from a technical standpoint, from a production standpoint,
and how the growth of my career has actually happened.
I'm here with my friends from Mix With The Masters in my studio.
I grew up playing music my whole life since I was a little kid.
That was my passion. I play guitar.
I sing a little bit pretty badly, but I do sing a little bit.
That was actually my whole world.
When I was growing up, when I was only eight years old,
I would tell my mom, "I'm going to be an artist."
That's everything that was in my head, being an artist, making it as a musician,
as an artist.
When I was around 15, almost 16, I had the opportunity
to be in my first recording session in a big studio.
We actually went into the studio. It was my cousin's band.
I was there, I brought my guitar, we brought our instruments.
We didn't even know what the hell it was all about.
That was my very, very first exposure to production.
It was such a learning experience in such a few days.
We had to do everything maybe in two, three days,
and then there was the mixing of it.
But it opened a new window for me.
All of a sudden, I realized that there was another side to making music,
not just the playing and the arrangements and the songwriting,
but there was the side of production.
It really struck me back then, and it stayed with me for many, many,
many years afterwards.
My family moved to the U.S., I moved with them, I didn't actually stay,
I went back to Europe, did four years of medical school,
and I never finished because I was always doing music.
I was always working on music, that was truly becoming my only passion
no matter how much I liked, actually, even medical school,
and it was such an amazing learning experience that gave me many tools
to even deal with what I do everyday, creating music, the psychology,
the empathy that you need to have treating a patient,
treating another person that you actually are just getting to know,
you have never met before and it's like a crash course on relationships.
That's what we actually do everyday with music, it's like a crash course
on specific relationships with each one of the artists you work with,
each one of the producers you collaborate with,
each one of the engineers you actually work with.
My path into becoming a studio recording engineer wasn't a straight one,
I actually did start doing live shows.
That's another aspect I really value of my upbringing, how I started in the business.
I started doing live shows.
I started touring, working on production, live production
for big artists, for small artists, for jazz tours.
I worked with all kinds of artists from world music, to jazz, to pop to...
From that point on, I had additional opportunities to get into the studio,
and I soon realized that the studio role was,
for me, like an open canvas.
It was the perfect opportunity for expression.
It wasn't like doing a live show where everything is very immediate,
you make it or you don't, it's just a single opportunity to make it happen.
This was different.
You could actually build music, you could build tracks,
you could build a production, you could actually further work
on the songwriting, on the lyrics, it was so exciting.
And I started doing sessions in Spain.
And soon enough I realized I needed to grow.
And the number one studio I admired was here in Los Angeles.
It was Ocean Way Recording.
There were quite a few others I really appreciated like Record Plant and Westlake
and many others, The Village, but Ocean Way just happened to have been
in one of the big articles of Mix magazine.
And I was like, "Man, I need to work at this place.
Look at all of the different artists that go through this facility.
Look at the philosophy in terms of recording, in terms of the gear."
We're talking about the analog gear.
The big consoles they had, everything was very, very flashy to me.
So I went to school, I went to... solely took a class at a place
called The Recording Workshop, a very, very small class.
It was what I could actually afford at the time.
I took every class over there to really see how much I could actually learn,
other than my self-taught skills, what had actually permeated
through other engineers and producers.
And it was such a great experience.
It was only three and a half weeks, four weeks.
I went back to Spain, which is where I was residing at the time,
and I just thought, "I need to save money.
I need to be able to go to a bigger school, to a place that has a much more
complete program, a much longer program," and that's what I did.
I toured non-stop, I worked my ass off and ended up going through my savings
and my family's help, my parents' help, I managed to go to Full Sail.
This is at the time when Full Sail was just actually beginning,
they didn't have the huge facilities they have right now.
And I did a very, very intensive program, not just engineering,
but production and it even included video production
because I was so curious, I was so interested in everything.
I took those classes, I was able to do a 2-year program
in 9 months or 10 months, really, really crazy.
I didn't have any sleep for a full year.
And then I applied to Ocean Way.
I had never actually worked previously in the U.S.
I had a visa and I had the opportunity to do it.
But I didn't know how the work dynamics worked at the time,
how a big facility like Ocean Way
managed to hire new assistants or new interns
or whatever it might be.
I was actually shooting for an assistant position.
And I had my interview with Jack Waltz who used to be the studio manager,
the general manager at the time.
He actually said no to me.
He said, "Wow, you have so much knowledge. You have done so many things.
You have so many years of experience, but I think not, thank you very much.
We only hire super, super experienced engineers."
I will never forget.
I came out of the office, and I walked back in.
And he was very surprised I was walking back into his office.
And he asked me, "Did you forget something?"
And I just told him, "I know this is my only chance to make
an impression on you. I need to work here.
I do need to work here.
It has been my dream for my whole past three years.
And I do need to make it here."
He actually gave me a job. It was just like that.
It just happened like that.
So I always say, follow your dreams,
but not just follow your dreams, you have to insist on your dreams.
You have to be very adamant about how important those dreams are to you.
And that's what I did.
I became the first intern ever at Ocean Way.
Since they couldn't give me a full assistant position.
Obviously, they couldn't trust me.
They were used to super experienced engineers.
They gave me an intern position at the studio.
My first sessions were truly amazing.
I work recording big orchestras, recording dates, doing the Academy Awards.
Worked with Natalie Cole, The Rolling Stones, anybody you
can imagine, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tom Petty.
It was just like the who is who in the world of production and recording,
and so many different producers and engineers.
And you always learn a lot from everybody.
And not just the technical stuff.
You learn the demeanor, how to treat your artists,
how to confront situations, and that's what I learned a lot
from people like Al Schmitt and Phil Ramone,
George Massenburg, Andy Wallace, Chris Lord-Alge.
Everybody in the business back then was going through...
was passing through Ocean Way.
Glyn Johns, that was quite an amazing thing.
Andy Johns, his brother.
It was such a magical place.
I learned a lot, but you have to also learn to adapt that knowledge
because not all of it applies to you.
Not all of it can fit your personality.
You should never feel bad about that.
At the beginning, when I was such a rookie, I tried to mimic,
I tried to imitate all of these people.
But soon enough, I realized, "No, I need to stop trying to mimic it.
I need to make it my own, I need to learn why they do it.
Not how they do it, but why they do it."
And that's when you go much deeper into your profession
and into what you do everyday.
So, I stayed at Ocean Way for a few years, very few years actually.
I made a very, very quick career move in terms of
becoming a freelance engineer first.
It all happened because of my ambition and my curiosity
to work with other people, basically.
And not only that, but early on I got offers from producers,
even other engineers who worked at Ocean Way
who actually offered me jobs outside the studio.
I remember at the time, I had to basically explain it to the studio, too,
because I didn't want to just cut my connection to the studio right away.
It's such a fragile work environment.
You are getting started in this career and you need to make a living basically.
Yeah, it was a very gradual process, but it became full time in about a year
or a year and a half; my transition happened very, very quick.
I was quite a risk-taker, but I always thought if I don't take the risk,
people are never going to feel that I can truly do it,
that I'm serious about being out there in the market
and being able to work with whoever I wanted to.
Obviously, at the beginning of your career, you don't get to choose as much
who you work with, but in a way you do.
You basically set up the opportunities for yourself
by your relationships, who you know, who you talk to.
I used to go to every show in Hollywood every night I could
to get to meet new people, to get to meet new bands, new composers.
I always had an affinity for orchestral work too, for classical music,
those kind of things.
So, I never closed any doors in front of me.
And that's how my career became so eclectic because I work...
I produce jazz, classical, opera.
I work in hip hop, urban music, Latin music, pop,
new up and coming music trends.
And that comes out of my curiosity.
I think that we should always be open-minded about what's out there.
And from early on, I had that open-minded attitude about everything,
even our technology.
People say, "Oh, you have the biggest studio, so you're pretty much
sold on having a big SSL or having all of this analog gear," and whatnot.
I always say, "It's not important.
That's not the important aspect of music-making.
That's not the important aspect about how we accommodate a new project opportunity."
Some of the best projects I ever produced, I have done them with very,
very limited resources.
They gave me an award in Latin America for one of the best productions
and best engineered albums.
I'll be honest, most of it, like 80% of it we did with a 002 interface
and my laptop, and it was more about how to... the administration
of those resources, knowing what was important, knowing which one microphone
we needed to have, since we couldn't have 20, just which one we need to have.
What other cheaper options can we have around?
And basically understanding production.
You become a great engineer when you become a producer, basically.
I always say it all the time, the same for mixing.
I think you become a good mixing engineer when you understand production,
when you understand why things are done,
and how you can take them to the next level.
Up to that point, you are just a follower, in a sense.
You are just following everybody else's trends, you are not creating your own,
you are not digging deep enough into the songs.
Once you understand why that third person that you don't even know
recorded these tracks the way he did, why he went for this specific sound
no matter how outrageous or how out there it sounds to you
at the moment when you receive the song,
once you start understanding other people's minds,
that's when you start being able to dig deeper.
That's why when I receive a new song, for example, to mix, which is the perfect
example of getting into another person's mind,
because when you're working on a project from the beginning,
it is a very, very different situation.
It becomes your own project, it becomes your own expression.
But when you're mixing, you have to first interpret
somebody else's expression.
And then you have to evaluate how you can add on to it, how you can embellish it.
You have to understand not only what you need to do,
but what you shouldn't do, which is critical to me.
Same principles apply to mastering, you have to know what not to do.
You have to know when to step back and not try to impress anybody
because the tracks are already reflecting what they should.
Maybe you can enhance a few things.
Maybe you can do a few things here and there and put your own stamp on it.
But basically, very often,
when we're mixing some of the best mixes, you don't do much.
I'll be honest with you, you don't do much.
When I listen to a rough mix on a project, the first thing I try to understand
is what they were shooting for, and I try to determine
what are the missed opportunities.
Where they actually missed an opportunity to do something else,
to elevate the expression of the song, even if it's a sad song,
maybe you need to make it even sadder, not make it bigger,
but maybe you need to make it even smaller.
And that's where people become very, very afraid of making things smaller
than what they even were in the rough mix.
You have to understand production in order to confront situations that way.
Another aspect that I always pay attention to is listening to the lyrics,
which is another aspect that a lot of people miss on.
I listen to the lyrics.
I try to understand what the song is all about.
And I take it from that point.
The evolution of me becoming a studio owner happened early on,
and it happened early on because I was being offered many opportunities.
It was the beginning of the home studio movement, we're talking about mid-'90s.
The first home studios were being built, big home studios, small home studios,
all kinds of home studios.
But back then, we used tape machines.
So, for the most part, they were actually pretty elaborate home studios,
but it was also the beginning of Pro Tools.
And I've been using Pro Tools since 1992 when it was just like a little card
and the stereo file.
I was one of the first people who got his own Pro Tools system for editing,
even for recording my own projects, my own productions.
I was very interested in producing other people, and that allowed me
to start collecting a few pieces of gear.
A few microphones, although I started very, very slowly with a few microphones,
my own Pro Tools rig, then my own Neves.
I worked with Michael Jackson for a while.
During those years, I was hired by Brad Buxer and by Michael's company,
and it allowed us to even use some of the gear for some of the sessions
because they always rented a lot of gear.
And that's how I started actually collecting some of the gear
I have right now.
And it has been an absolute evolution from a small home studio in a garage
to a bigger home studio in a garage.
Do you need all of this?
Again, like I mentioned earlier, do you need all of this
to make it happen? To make a recod?
I will say you don't, you simply don't.
I will explain that a little bit more later on.
I'll explain what my basic elements are in any type of situation,
how I evaluate a production from beginning to end,
what are the tools I require?
What tools are actually going to help me elevate the project?
What's important? Is it the interfaces? Is it the microphones?
It depends on the type of project you're working on.
So, for example, when I was working with Dr. Dre, those were still the years
for analog tape, we tracked most of it to analog tape,
and we also used the Sony 3348 to dump everything to digital.
And then we started using Pro Tools, and it all changed from that,
but once you understand the aesthetic of what you're looking for,
everything else is not important.
I love gear. Don't take me wrong, I love gear.
I love what it does for me.
But I also understand that you can do it with other tools.
You can always find a replacement.
I have several studios but this is my home studio,
my personal studio. This is where I mix most of the time.
And in this studio I have a SSL analog console, a Duality.
I really love it.
You can really push it if you know how to.
It has an analog page, fully analog,
and you also have a digital interface built into it.
To me, it's perfect in terms of ergonomics.
I even built my own keyboard station underneath, which actually SSL
should provide with every console from now on.
Take a hint, you should have these everywhere.
And I interface these with a lot of analog gear, I have a lot of vintage gear
from the '50s from my Vacuvox, my Pye compressors, to my Trident,
my [inaudible], my Motown EQs, my Quad Eight, Sontec, you name it,
quite a lot of vintage gear.
I collected this gear because they offer me a very, very specific taste.
If you don't know how to use them, how to use the equipment you are being offered,
just have a few pieces and really master them.
I always tell people, "Don't try to get 15 different things
all at once, get 3 and really master them."
Growing a specific taste for that gear, finding the ultimate purpose
for that gear, fitting it into your style of making music.
Many times, we dislike a piece of gear because we haven't found
the right application for it.
Many people ask me, "What should I do?
I really want to have my own personal studio.
Should I actually have it in my own house or should I go somewhere else?"
It comes down to separate decisions they have to make.
Number one, are you disciplined enough to work from home?
That's a major distinction to me. Some people are not, they simply are not.
They need to actually get out to be productive.
They cannot just handle being close to the place where they actually live
everyday, and they need to get out. Otherwise they procrastinate a lot.
In order not to procrastinate, you really have to enjoy what you do.
And you really have to get into it.
Sometimes I just get into the studio, I just play music for a few minutes,
things that I like, things that I don't even know,
new things that I want to listen to, that just sparks the inspiration.
And I think like, "Okay, there's this mix I need to do today
or these two or three different mix options that I could take on today.
Let's get into this."
And that's part of my personal process when I get into the studio,
and I even do that when I go to other studios, but mainly I developed that...
that thing by having to work in my own place,
by having to work in my own studio.
I'm never afraid of playing anybody else's music.
I don't know, some people have that thing when they're with clients,
they don't want to play anybody else's music but I'm not precious about it,
I just play whatever I feel like and try to get into it.
The other aspect obviously is economics, is the economics of it.
How much money is it going to cost you to rent a place?
You have to basically evaluate that, but it makes sense for me, and for me,
it was a personal decision.
It wasn't even an economical decision.
I was used to working in bigger studios all the time.
That's why originally my gear was on racks, not as big as these ones,
but they were like two-thirds of these.
And I used to travel from studio to studio all the time.
I would spend four months at The Record Plant, two weeks at Ocean Way.
Another month at Sunset Sound.
Then I'd fly to New York and work there for two months.
I will even fly with my racks sometimes to the East Coast or to Miami,
things like that.
Those times are gone, obviously, because of the economics of the music industry.
Try to make economic sense of your tools.
Buy gear that you really, really love, but you know it's not going to lose its value.
And that's one of the reasons why I got so much into vintage gear, too,
not just because of what it had to offer sonically speaking,
which is obviously at the top of the list,
but also because of what it meant personally as an investment.
Most of the gear I have these days has probably tripled in value.
And yeah, it simply is a good business investment.