Legendary Vocal Recordings and How They Were Made

Frank Sinatra at His Peak
The mid-1950s arguably marked the pinnacle of Frank Sinatra’s remarkable 7-decade career. Bookended by the ’40s — when, under contract to Columbia Records, he became a teen idol to legions of bobby-soxers — and the ’60s, when he recorded for his own Reprise label, this was the decade when Sinatra’s inimitable velvety baritone and singular phrasing made “The Voice” instantly recognizable and a cornerstone of mid-century popular culture.
But things were not looking up for Sinatra in 1952. Personal issues, flagging record sales, and artistic disagreements with Columbia head of Artists & Repertoire (A&R) Mitch Miller resulted in the label dropping him at a time when he no longer had a film, television, or radio contract. But Sinatra turned his career around the following year with an Oscar-winning performance in the film From Here to Eternity. He also signed to Capitol Records that year and began a long, fruitful collaboration with arranger/conductor Nelson Riddle, recording a succession of albums with deeply reflective ballads that gave full expression to his superb interpretative skills, as well as upbeat jazzy numbers that highlighted his strong sense of rhythm and entrenched his image as a swinging rat-packer.
Recorded with Capitol staff engineer John Palladino at the board over a 4-month period starting in October 1955, the Songs for Swingin’ Lovers! sessions brought together Sinatra, Riddle, and top LA session musicians to produce an album filled with beautifully orchestrated, effervescent reinterpretations of pop standards.
After seven years of booking time for its artists at various Hollywood studios, Capitol purchased their first recording facility in 1949. Located at 5515 Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles, the new Capitol complex consisted of three studios housed in a nondescript 2-story building adjacent to the Paramount Pictures lot. It was among the first studios to record to magnetic tape, a new technology that was revolutionizing the entertainment and news industries. The studios were equipped with Ampex 200A 1/4″ mono tape recorders that took 14″ open flanges and ran at 30 ips (inches-per-second), as well as in-house-built 12-channel consoles with rotary pots that offered basic but effective EQ on 10 of their channels.
Commercial stereo sound was still in development, but the 12″ 33-1/3 rpm monaural long-playing record (LP) had arrived on the scene in 1948. As it was the industry standard, Capitol’s studios were set up for mono sound, with one Altec 604 monitor speaker hanging in front of the console. A modest number of microphones was used, placed judiciously on the orchestra, and leakage was simply a given, to be managed as well as possible for each session. Isolating the vocals was one of the biggest challenges.
Capitol Studio A on the second floor included a 4-foot-high stage at one end that could (just about) accommodate an orchestra, as well as audience seating for the Hollywood celebs who inevitably showed up at Sinatra sessions. Although Sinatra would be gobo’d off when stereo became a reality in 1957 at the newly constructed Capitol Tower, for the Swingin’ Lovers sessions he was out in the room, positioned in front of the stage where there was a modicum of isolation and he could enjoy eye contact with the band.
Another post-war innovation was the Telefunken/Neumann U47 tube condenser microphone. Sinatra’s vocals had previously been captured with the RCA 44 ribbon mic, which had been an industry standard for decades. But the 44’s mellow character frustrated engineers, who were delighted with the U47’s assertive midrange and bright high end. The 47 also delighted Sinatra, who, once he’d used it, never again recorded with another mic. 
Sinatra was notoriously critical in the studio and didn’t like editing. The fact that every take was a live performance where everything had to be perfect is testimony to the professionalism of the musicians — and the challenges faced by Palladino — who had to effectively perform the final mix on every take. After 22 takes of “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” they finally had a performance that satisfied Sinatra. The song, written by Cole Porter in 1936, was a hit, and so was Songs for Swingin’ Lovers! Highly regarded by fans and critics alike as one of his absolute best, Sinatra’s 10th album peaked at number two in America after its March ’56 release. When the UK started charting albums in 1956, Songs for Swingin’ Lovers! was the first album to grace the number one slot.

Reprise Records was founded by Sinatra in 1960 as a part of his quest for more artistic freedom. It was sold to Warner Bros. three years later and went on to become a major player with signings or distribution deals with an eclectic roster of artists such as Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, the Beach Boys, Jethro Tull, the Kinks, Frank Zappa, Captain Beefheart, Fleetwood Mac, and Sinatra’s daughter Nancy. Plus another revolutionary young guitarist — Jimi Hendrix.
Jimi Hendrix Covers Dylan
In 1967, the Jimi Hendrix Experience blew the world away with their debut album, Are You Experienced, assaulting the airwaves with the hit singles “Hey Joe,” “Purple Haze,” and “The Wind Cries Mary” that propelled the guitarist/singer/composer to the top of the rock heap. From the introspective beauty of “Little Wing” to the searing proto-prog-metal of “Spanish Castle Magic” to the whimsical irony of “Castles Made of Sand,” their sophomore outing, Axis: Bold as Love, upped the ante with Jimi-penned songs that showed the artist stretching out as a songwriter and lyricist. The stage was set for Jimi’s magnum opus.
So it was that in January 1968 the Electric Ladyland sessions commenced at London’s Olympic Studios, where engineer Eddie Kramer and producer Chas Chandler had recorded the first two albums on the same Helios console with the same 4-track recording techniques. The ambitious double album showed off Jimi’s impressive compositional skills and breathtaking guitar chops on classic cuts such as “Voodoo Chile” and “Crosstown Traffic,” while Eddie helped realize Jimi’s sonic vision by pushing the technology to its absolute limits. Songwriting talents aside, Jimi had no qualms about recording and performing covers, as his success with “Hey Joe” had aptly demonstrated. Which brings us to “All Along the Watchtower,” written by Bob Dylan, Jimi’s major poetic influence.
The song’s allegorical tale of social upheaval had intrigued Jimi when he first heard Dylan’s John Wesley Harding album, and in Jimi’s version the lyrics would be supercharged with four blistering guitar solos, giving the song far more dramatic impact than Dylan’s sparse arrangement. Other artists would cover the song, including Eric Clapton, the Grateful Dead, Neil Young, U2, and the Dave Matthews Band, but Jimi’s intensely evocative interpretation remains the most iconic. As the ultimate vote of confidence, Dylan himself subsequently gravitated toward Jimi’s version in live performances.
It took 27 takes to nail the basic tracks for “All Along the Watchtower.” There was no bass, just Jimi on a 6-string acoustic, Traffic’s Dave Mason on 12-string, and Mitch Mitchell on drums. This was by design, and it resulted in a beautiful, light feel, courtesy of the acoustic guitars that were driving it. Jimi also knew what he wanted for the bass part and overdubbed it himself, which drove bassist Noel Redding off to the pub in disgust. After that, Jimi put on his electric lead parts. And then, it was time for a change.
The making of Electric Ladyland straddled two continents. Jimi wanted to move back to the US, and when Record Plant owner Gary Kellgren invited Eddie to a position at his newly opened studio in New York, Eddie welcomed the opportunity. Everyone was ready for a change. And what a change it was! Eddie was not only going from Olympic’s superb Helios to the Record Plant’s Datamix console but also making the jump from 4-track to 12-track. Interestingly, the Record Plant had opened during a very small technological window in which 1-inch 12-track was the state of the art. Not many people even know the format ever existed; and indeed, in a mere matter of months, 2-inch 16-track took over, obsoleting the 1″ 12 to the scrap heap of recording history. But hindsight being 20/20, the first order of business upon Eddie’s arrival was transferring the 4-track masters to 12-track; completely bypassing 8-track, which had been the standard in America since 1965. Comprising the Record Plant’s first sessions, Electric Ladyland sessions took place in week-to-10-day chunks, broken up by Jimi’s frequent road gigs. Since Eddie thought that the 12-track Scully tape machine was noisy and generally sounded terrible, everything was later transferred to an Ampex 16-track. Because Eddie’s tendency was to hit the tape hard, the sound remained punchy and noise was kept to a minimum despite the generational loss.
In New York, the sessions went from being regimented to freewheeling — a reflection of Jimi’s expanded social network in the city. Having booked a 7PM start, Eddie and Chandler would often wait hours for Jimi as he was jamming around the corner at Steve Paul’s Scene. Jimi would then show up at one or two in the morning with a gaggle of hangers-on, along with musicians he wanted to use for a specific part. Chandler felt he had lost control of the sessions, so he departed back to England, leaving the task of finishing the album to Jimi and Eddie, and bequeathing production credits to Jimi.
Enough has been said and written about Jimi Hendrix’s masterful way with a Stratocaster; however, there are many fans who also consider him one of rock’s great vocalists. But as brash as Jimi was about his guitar playing, he was notoriously insecure about his singing. Jimi recorded all of his vocals for Electric Ladyland at the Record Plant, singing into a Beyer M160 while hiding behind a 3-sided screen. Once “All Along the Watchtower” had received vocal and percussion overdubs and it was time to mix the song, Jimi and Eddie made judicious use of what the studio had to offer: EQ, compression, and plate reverb. With the few effects then available, Eddie made innovative use of flanging, chorusing, looping, and backmasking (backward tapes), turning the studio itself into an instrument. With “All Along the Watchtower,” they had created a masterpiece. A half century on, the track still inspires with its driving acoustic guitars, loping bass line, magnificent solos, and commanding lead vocal.

10cc and the Tsunami of Voices
Some recordings have a clear central vocal, while others share the spotlight among a multitude of vocals. An example of the latter is “I’m Not in Love,” which began life as a simple love song. It ended up a monster hit. The clever lyrics were written by 10cc guitarist and lead vocalist Eric Stewart; they were the words of a man trying — not all that convincingly — to assure himself, and the world, in no uncertain terms, that he was, in fact, not in love. After a few aborted attempts (including a bossa nova version) to come up with a workable arrangement for the song, the band agreed on a novel approach: a cappella. Drummer Kevin Godley suggested to Stewart that they try to do it with no instruments, just a “tsunami of voices.” Stewart, along with bassist Graham Gouldman and keyboardist Lol Creme, was game; now they just had to figure out how to go about it. Creme came up with the answer: tape loops.
Stewart, an accomplished recording engineer, spent three weeks in the band’s Strawberry Studios recording Godley, Creme, and Gouldman singing “ahhh.” Each of them sang the note for as long as they could sustain their breath, then sang it 15 more times, filling up all 16 tracks of the multitrack tape machine. If you’re keeping count, so far we have 3 x 16 = 48 voices. They did this for each note of the C chromatic scale plus an added C on top, resulting in a formidable 624-voice choir (48 voices for each of the 13 notes) — a robust polyphony spec that would no doubt impress even today’s most jaded keyboardists. Then the three singers were mixed down to thirteen tracks (each containing a different note) on 1/4″ tape. The tapes were then edited to create loops and flown back into 13 tracks of the 16-track machine.
Each band member was given three faders (Stewart took four), each with a different note; this allowed them to “play” the Helios console like a musical instrument, complete with all the notes of the chromatic scale, fading channels in and out and combining the notes to form chords. The results were like nothing ever heard before. The a cappella arrangement was eventually fleshed out with a sparse arrangement anchored by a Fender Rhodes electric piano, a muted Minimoog bass drum, and not much else — highlighting the ethereal voices that became the mood-setting focal point of the song. Another notable vocal feature of the track — the whispered “Be quiet, big boys don’t cry” bit in the middle eight — was performed by studio receptionist Kathy Redfern, who was recruited after poking her head into the control room to tell Stewart he had a phone call.
The circuitous path “I’m Not in Love” took toward becoming a hit is proof that the creative process is often a long, torturous saga, albeit in this case, one with a happy ending. Released in May 1975 as the second single from the band’s third album, The Original Soundtrack, the song went on to become 10cc’s worldwide breakthrough hit, hitting number one in the UK, and topping out at number two on the Billboard Hot 100 in the US. On the strength of that one song, 10cc signed a lucrative 5-year, 5-album deal with Mercury Records. “I’m Not in Love” was seen as a major influence on Billy Joel’s hit ballad “Just the Way You Are,” released two years later. And the song has remained popular, with over three million US radio plays and numerous appearances in films, television shows, and game soundtracks.

Lou Gramm: A Star Is Born
In 1976, with Spooky Tooth and the Leslie West Band behind him and confident he now possessed the formula for making hit records, guitarist Mick Jones set about forming a supergroup. With the rhythm section members in place and four songs already written, the band — named Trigger at this point — recorded the songs at the Hit Factory in New York. It was time to find a lead vocalist, and Jones held the auditions in Studio B of the legendary recording facility. Out in the tracking room, a Neumann U87, headphones, and three tall gobos were set up. In the control room, an 1176 was patched into the vocal chain, “At War with the World” was cued up on the Studer 24-track, and the monitor and cue mixes were dialed in, with a judicious amount of plate reverb on the lead vocal track, which was set to record-ready and monitoring input.
The handful of singers invited to audition were chilling out in the lobby, waiting their turn to impress. One by one, they were called in to take a stab at the song — chosen for its vocally demanding chorus that required the singer to forcefully hit a high A on the words “war” and “world.” The first three hopefuls barely made it through the first line of the chorus when Jones hit the talkback button and thanked them for their time. Then it was Lou Grammatico’s turn.
Tape rolled. Grammatico sailed through the first verse and plowed into the chorus, flexing his impressive vocal range and power. Seated at the API console, Jones and the engineer looked at each other in stunned amazement. It sounded like a hit. Grammatico aced the chorus and was allowed to finish the song — which he nailed in a single take. Jones had found his lead singer. Trigger became Foreigner, Lou Grammatico became Lou Gramm, and he and Mick Jones began a songwriting and performance collaboration that over the next decade would go on to rack up gold and platinum records and sell out arenas worldwide. The band’s eponymous debut album, released in February 1977, sold over five million copies in America alone, remaining in the top 20 for a year with blockbuster hits such as “Cold as Ice” and “Feels Like the First Time.”

Bet you never expected to find Frank Sinatra, Jimi Hendrix, 10cc, and Foreigner in the same article! We’ve certainly covered a lot of ground: from the mid-’50s to the mid-’70s; from mono to 24-track. In the process, we’ve taken an affectionate look at four legendary vocal recordings and — in each case — the interesting circumstances under which they came to be. This is the type of thing that animates us every day here at Sweetwater. If music and recording are in your blood, then we know you understand.
Let us help you make some legendary recordings of your own. Call us at (800) 222-4700.
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