In this article, long time Neve user drew BANG shares the role these consoles have played in his career and how, for him, the 88r, which celebrates its 20th anniversary this year, represented a pinnacle of his Neve journey.
The first large format console I ever worked on professionally was an AMS Neve. I’d used other brands along the way, but nothing of note and a few control surfaces masquerading as desks. You know the kind - paperweights of the rich and famous - where no audio actually passes through them … Still, nothing has ever come close to that feeling of using a “Neve”.
I cut my teeth at Strongroom Studios in London, who have a Neve VR60 in Studio 1. This progressive studio in the beating heart of Shoreditch has a rich history spanning 30 plus years, and is famous for early recordings by the Spice Girls and The Prodigy. Not to mention the distinctive interior, designed by renowned artist Jamie Reid (of the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen” artwork fame). When I started as a runner, AIR Lyndhurst Orchestral Recording Studio was owned by Strongroom, and there were solid camps of either “Classical” or “Contemporary” Engineers across the roster.
As an unapologetically pop/rock guy, I worked mostly out of the main tracking room at Strongroom, the Neve Room! I was fortunate to have great mentors and patient, sympathetic peers to help with my learning curve, but as far as crash courses go there’s no better way to learn Large Format Workflow than on the job.
Strongroom And The VR60
One of the first album sessions I worked on with the VR60 lasted almost a year. I was the Assistant to an Engineer friend of mine, Lee Slater. Although my role wasn’t very hands-on in the Control Room, I was able to ask Lee as many questions as I had, regarding his methods and rationale behind choices, mostly covering the usability of the Neve Desk.
In true studio cliché style Lee became ill and had to take a week off from the session. I was asked to step in and Engineer, and that meant working the board solo for the first time. It was so enjoyable to use (of course I’d started by mimicking Lee’s workflow to meet the established expectations of the client) soon enough I was finding new ways to route, creative uses of topology, discovering how I felt comfortable working, and I’ll never forget that feeling. That baptism of fire legitimised my potential as an aspiring Engineer and set the foundations for my relationship with front end signal flow to this day: it made me “A Neve Guy”.
Further down the line, I progressed to Engineering and Production full time, working bigger jobs in various studios. It’s not unusual to arrive at a studio with little-to-no idea of what equipment you’ll be working with, so when I’d load in to a studio with a Neve Desk or Outboard, I’d always be assured that the sound I was hoping to achieve would be easily obtained. Whether it’s a rack of 1081s, a Genesys Black, a BCM20 Sidecar or a lunchbox of 88RLBs, it all feels familiar and delivers that signature warmth.
EMI-Neve Desk And U2
As far as Neve Oddities are concerned, I was met with equal doses of trepidation, intrigue and awe when Engineering for U2 on the Songs of Experience album sessions. Some of the recording happened in a rented house, which was retrofitted with a modular recording rig. Now, I’ve done location jobs before but this was another level. The band had a 1970s A3000 Series EMI-Neve desk. It was far too cumbersome to constantly relocate, so each one of the 32 Modules of 1091 Preamps had been removed and mounted into 6ft touring cases, with custom discrete power supplies for mobile tracking. As I entered the recording space for the first time, there they were, looming over me like monoliths of sound, a truly amazing sight. However, the initial amazement passed swiftly as I glimpsed the familiar petrol blue paint and reliably weighty knobs. In that moment I realised that the lifeblood of a Neve product, the relationship I had with them and the emotional connection it stirred, transcend form factor and familiarity. It’s in its DNA. Something intangible, something beautiful.
December 2016 saw me travel to Brussels’ ICP Studios for the first time to Engineer for Royal Blood on How Did We Get So Dark?, their Sophomore Release. I’ve been back many times and is genuinely such a happy place for me, a true playground for musicians and producers alike. Over the years, I’ve worked in each of ICP’s four commercial studios. My second visit treated me with a pleasant surprise in Studio C. There resides an A3000 Series EMI Neve, the very same I’d used with U2, only this time, very much intact. I remember thinking to myself, “This is it, this is my go-to, the universe is bringing me back to where I belong”. However, I’d not yet worked in ICP Studio B; that came later and with it, joy. I’d always known what was upstairs at ICP but never been; when I’d worked at the studio before, there were always clients in Studio B, not an appropriate time to take a quick look. But when I was booked to Engineer for Producer John Parish (PJ Harvey) and they mentioned the studio we’d be working in, I beamed.
The Neve 88R
Finally Studio B - finally the 88R! Before that point I’d never worked on a Neve 88R, I’d never even seen one in real life but I knew. I knew about its links to the VR60, the evolution of form and function, the kinks ironed, the concerns addressed. And now it was in front of me, like an old friend with a new haircut, same same but different … good different … better. I took to using the 88R with ease, despite a few obvious differences to the VR60 (which I knew intrinsically), like push pots for AUX Sends, a more in-depth Centre Section and many improvements under the hood. They’d managed to create the same experience of using a large format console that I’d come to know and love and solved all of the bugbears from its predecessor. It was a revelation to me, exactly the desk I’d always wanted to use. Cosmetically, the VR60 and an 88R are cut from the same cloth for sure but the 88R just feels … more! More realised as an instrument, more refined as a tool, more logical in its design, more … dare-I say-it … NEVE.
That first session in ICP Studio B changed me, there’s no going back to how life was before the 88R - it’s a benchmark in audio technology and all else pales in comparison. Sure it lacks some “cutting edge features” like “5G-Bluetooth-NFC-WIFI” but such additions feel like gimmicks imposed at the cost of functionality. I want Mic/Line pres with tons of Gain, Dynamics, and EQ on every channel. Short faders, Long faders, and enough inserts and sends that my fragile ego could ever possibly demand. The 88R gives me all of this and more while doing it better than anything else in its class. What can I say, I’m a fan.
Some audio equipment just doesn’t resonate, it can’t translate its potential into an easily digested user experience, making it hard to work with intuitively. I’m not sure if it’s the ergonomics, colour scheme, or those comfy wrist pillows but I find the 88R much more pleasant to use than its competitors. The purchase of the buttons, their functions tessellated pleasingly to the eye, a form factor feeling intuitive and reassuring. That beloved VR60 laid the foundations of my studio comfort zone and the Neve outboard I stumbled upon out in the wild warmed my heart, but the 88R built a spiritual home for Neve and I. We live there together rent-free in my mind, every single day.
Head over to AMS Neve’s website to learn more about their deep history in large format consoles, and of course, the 88R.