Call & Response: Sean Wolcott

 

(8 min)

Sean Wolcott is a multi-hyphenate artist with much more on his resume than we can adequately cover in a brief conversation. But in combing through his ever-growing body of work, a creative through line emerges that we explore here (no spoilers).

In this interview we stick to the music side of his creative output, including his work with our own label Analog Champion, Wolcott’s own albums and film scores, and his incredible Seattle studio Soundview Analog Recorders. Taking a walk through each avenue, we uncover an undeniable creative spirit where passion, curiosity, and imagination lead the way.

Photo by Annie Wolcott

Lab Notes (LN): If you had to boil your musical journey into one sentence, what would it be? (Run-on sentences accepted and encouraged.)

Sean Wolcott (SW): Don't look back. Keep moving.

LN: We’ve loved your work as the composer, engineer, and producer of releases like Psych Rock on our Analog Champion label.

When you start a project that is so genre or era-specific, how do you go about defining the characteristics you want to capture? Are the songwriting and the recording techniques separate or are they intertwined in the creative process?

SW: My projects generally revolve around music I've been an obsessive fan and digger on for decades, so they are already in my DNA. Also, it's a great excuse to go even deeper and discover new things. When listening, I look for and think about motifs I might leverage – including sounds, instruments, arrangements, orchestration, and ways of playing. The goal is to inhabit that feeling of the given genre, not make a superficial pastiche. To use a movie-making analogy, I think of myself as a writer-director who loves to work in genre. I can take my passion for these genres and create something new that I can enjoy as a fan of them.

Songwriting and recording techniques vary from project to project. Still, from the start, I begin to flesh out ideas in the most straightforward way possible, ideally away from the computer and, in many cases, even away from instruments entirely. My phone usually has a backlog of countless "sung voice memos of a madman." The more I can abstract myself from the hands-on part of music, the more fluid my ideas become and the more robust and intuitive the melodies and other motifs often become. The other half is me constantly noodling in the background while watching TV on the guitar or piano, exploring a feel, scale, or even a tempo if it relates to a project. The best ideas come when you least expect them.

Once I have a clear picture of what I'm after conceptually, I will start to track some ideas and get a general rough arrangement and framework I like. Once I get that far, the rest often reveals itself in my mind, and I can record the final tracks and parts fast.

Photo by Annie Wolcott

LN: You’ve assembled an incredible collection of larger than life recording consoles and vintage machines at your Seattle studio, Soundview Analog Recorders. But instead of having the aura of a museum, it feels more like a time machine.

When did your interest in analog gear and recording techniques begin? Can you describe what you enjoy about working with decades-old technology with the plethora of digital options available?

SW: Right out of the gate, as a 14-year-old starting to play guitar, the older albums I heard on the radio, checked out from the local library, or found in my dad's collection always sounded better. So, I quickly started my now 33-year-long journey to explore why that was. That included meeting some important mentors on the way and getting lucky with deals of excellent equipment from that era, often in the late 90s or early 00s when it was more neglected and thus cheap. I don't think of myself as a collector, and while I've been able to get some genuinely historic equipment items, I don't like the idea of my studio being a museum. These fantastic tools were built of a quality that can outlive us all if you care for them. They are easy to use and sound amazing. Little fuss. Someone should use them to make new art today and tomorrow.

Soundview Analog Recorders, photo courtesy of Sean Wolcott

I'm not a purist in the analog versus digital debate; the goal of getting the sounds I'm after, with lots of experience, mostly boils down to the right-sounding equipment, a good player, and a good room. I often record digitally in tandem with analog and use the benefits of each available to me as it makes sense to keep things simple and fast from a workflow standpoint. I'm never chasing "old sounds," only what I perceive as good sounds, and I find when it's the best to my liking is when it's done with the most simplicity.

Some aspects of digital I avoid are the disposability of things and the constant incompatibility of software that distracts from music-making. I'd rather invest in one good $1500 hardware compressor I can use on everything for decades versus 30 virtual ones constantly nagging me and breaking down, needing updates, paid or not.

I don't like the idea of my studio being a museum. These fantastic tools were built of a quality that can outlive us all if you care for them. They are easy to use and sound amazing. Little fuss. Someone should use them to make new art today and tomorrow.

LN: In an Instagram post for one of your recent Clockwork releases, Violent Hand of the Sleeping City, you mention that the album climaxes with “one of the most epic ballads to hit the imaginary screen.”

What does the process of writing such a thematically focused album look like when it’s for a film that doesn’t exist? Do your talents as a designer help you find a visual identity or scenes to score?

SW: It's not very different from any other project. But in this case, the film exists for these "movies for the mind" – in my mind. I often have a clear idea of the plot, tone, characters, locations, and other details, much more than one would imagine. However, I have no desire to be a filmmaker, only a soundtrack composer. I can see and feel all these things when writing the music. Very often, I decide the scenes, and then the music I select or write for serves the purpose of those scenes. As a lover of this type of "genre film" I'm creating, I think about aspects of existing ones I might want to evoke and other ways to put my spin on it. Being a visual designer is an inseparable part of the process. I can imagine the visual aspect of the tone of things from the start and work for a long time to ensure the artwork evokes that music component precisely.

LN: You not only create new music compositions that channel the spirit of vintage library music and film scores, but you also work in archival tape transfers at Soundview Analog, literally preserving past recordings from artists including The Beach Boys.

It all points to a larger passion, love, and mission. How do you describe this body of work that seems to act as a bridge between past and present?

SW: It's just another extension of what I love and a testament to how following your passions makes new things happen for you, revolving around them (with luck). Case in point, I have these 1960s tape machines because I love how they aid the music process, but the byproduct is now that you have a format for music playback that is less common. As such, you become someone recommended to transfer tapes done in a previous era on them. So, for 8-track, 4-track, 3-track, 2-track, or 1-track transfers, it's always like Christmas morning when you clean everything up and put on that real tape for something nobody has heard in decades. It's mind-blowing. Also, observing the music-making process from the "inside" of these lost eras gives new insights.

I can imagine the visual aspect of the tone of things from the start and work for a long time to ensure the artwork evokes that music component precisely.

LN: Do you have a “Mount Rushmore” of library music albums or legendary film composers?

SW: Oh wow, so many – too many favorites. There is less a "Mount Rushmore" for me, but more a whole world, where each country has a highest peak and then countless other towering mountains. But, I'll be honest: Ennio Morricone always has a very special spot, getting extreme competition from the endless talent around the globe, with Italy and Japan being favorites.

The list is endless, but for now, I'll stick with a few soundtrack favorites:

Ken – Sei Ikeno (1964)

The Pawnbroker – Quincy Jones (1964)

La Guerre est Finie – Giovanni Fusco (1966)

Bedazzled – Dudley Moore Trio with Peter Cook (1967)

Figures in a Landscape – Richard Rodney Bennett (1970)

Heroic Purgatory – Toshi Ichiyanagi (1970)

The Andromeda Strain – Gil Mellé (1971)

Escape from the Planet of the Apes – Jerry Goldsmith (1971 )

Female Convict Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (1972) – Shunsuke Kikuchi

Way of the Dragon – Joseph Koo (1972)

Cleopatra Jones – J.J. Johnson (1973)

Blind Rage – Tito Sotto (1976)

Futureworld – Fred Karlin (1976)

Duel to the Death – Michael Lai (1983)

Eileen – Richard Reed Parry (2023)

LN: What inspires you, what gives you hope?

SW: The endless abundance of creativity and art out there to discover.

LN: What are three things about you that wouldn’t want left out of your Wikipedia page?

SW: First. Middle. Last.


To learn more about Sean Wolcott, Soundview Analog Recorders, and to purchase vinyl pressings of his work, check out the links below:

www.seanwolcott.com

www.soundviewanalog.com

listentoclockwork.com