Okay, most of you know that I’m living underground…
After years of living “with people,” now, my family is now living all by our “onesies.” I’m sure that will please some of you, as I can’t recall how many times somebody said;
“Lexx, I wish you’d just crawl into a hole, and pull it in after you!”
That means I have to be sustainable, reliable, and responsible. We make our own power, grow our own food, distill our own fuel, and just generally thumb our noses at the rest of the world. Hey, if might not work for you, but it works for us!
It’s all about having a “buffer.”
So I’m pulling the dirt in after me. I’ve decided to use some earth-bermed warehouses on my property, to build my own recording studio. Although every musician wants his own digs, my quest is simple…
I want to stay at home with my family as much as is humanly possible. But I also want to play/record any time I want, without having to leave the grounds. Lofty goals, huh?
Now, I admit I have some circumstances that some don’t have. I have a new son, and I want to watch him grow up. Having missed most of my children’s young lives because of a life lived on the road, I’m determined not to repeat the same mistakes.
And, there is enough stress in my life to make this project something to throw myself headlong into, if only to escape the drama…
So, I took a deep breath, and started figuring out my resources by defining the assets and liabilities. Can you tell I’m Jewish?
Having the “space” for your project doesn’t really make it any easier. No matter what “building” you already have, you’re going to have to build another building inside of it.
I live on a farm.

Nope. Not your “Star Wars” kinda high-tech farm filled with Yuppies, Nerds, and a gaggle of Geeks. I wish!

Nope. Wrong again. Although I’ve been accused of expelling enough hot air to power a small village… that ain’t it, either.
Okay, so it’s not your “surrounded by acres of corn fields” kinda farm, but…
We don’t have acres of rolling fields bursting with wheat, or anything like that. We have trees… a ton of trees. And, oh yeah… a gate. (Not a “new-fangled” electric gate, nuh-uh! Onna those “get outta the truck in the pouring rain, while your wife tries to run you over” kinda gates!)
We even have a sign… The sign says: “Turn Here.” If you blink, you’ll miss it. We like it that way.
Once you make your way thru the trees… (you do remember the trees, right?) my farm has several low-lying buildings already built up, and then… they’re covered in soil. Tons and tons of soil. The only part that sticks out is the truck doors in the front, allowing entrance to the cavernous spaces within! The guy who built them was an environmental sort, who was trying to create “his perfect place.” Unfortunately, he died trying to do it.
Unless you look real hard, you don’t “see” any of the buildings on this farm. And the builder’s family didn’t share his vision… in fact, they thought he was insane. So after trying to sell it for three years after he died… (because everyone who looked at it thought “the builder” was insane…) I got the farm, for a song… Why? Because I’M insane! Just ask any of my “neighbors!”
It’s probably an environmentalist’s dream. Earth sheltered buildings, solar panels, several wells all run by (you guessed it) electric pumps powered by photovoltaic panels, and trees, a ton of trees. Did I mention the trees?
We’re just about totally off the grid. I say just about, because we do use generators during peak times, to supplement our power. (We do have a little “house” up by the road that has “city power.” It was easier than answering endless phone calls and visits from the sheriff to see if the farm was vacant.) But, these generators are run on bio-fuel, that we produce right here on the property. So, the guts of the build are already here…
This could be the “Green Build from Heaven only knows…” or another word that starts with “H.” Time will tell.
But, what building do you build? There’s the rub…
You can do what some do, and hit the forums, as hard as you can. And, I suspect that you’ll learn a lot, real fast. But, if you’re like me, you’ll only learn enough to become really dangerous.
Now, I kinda have a reputation. So… dangerous hanging off a guitar neck, dangerous in a fight, dangerous on a twisty road in a hot car, or even dangerous on a fast bike, you probably want ole’ Lexx. But dangerous in a “building project that you’re gonna record in” kinda way??
Well, that may be flapping a bit too hard from the handlebars. In fact, I suspect “way too hard!”
So, after “sticking it out there” in the forums, I decided to just bite the bullet, and start dialogs with designers and acoustical engineers. I talked to several of them. In fact, I probably talked to all of the “big names,” except maybe one or two. My phone bills span from California to New York, and just about everywhere in between. And, I talked with several architectural firms that specialize in building state of the art studios.
I tried to convey to them… my vision. Most of them thought I was far-sighted, and suggested counseling… You know… the psychiatric kind. Almost every one of them suggest that I start, by tearing down the existing warehouses, and building from the ground up.
Not only would that have violated the spirit of the farm, it would have murdered my budget, or lack thereof. I have some stuff, some cash, and some stuff I can turn into cash… All I need is a GREAT plan.
But most of my pals kept telling me that I didn’t need a designer. I didn’t need to bring in another ego to eat up most of my budget with consulting fees, design fees, revisions to design fees, and then… build fees.
They told me that we could just “go on guts” and build something ourselves. After all, we’ve been in literally hundreds of studios, over the last three decades.
Hmmm… “Building by our onesies…” Well, I do love architecture. I wanted to be an architect as a kid, until I figured out that I’d spend the rest of my life sitting in a cubicle, in front of a calculator. One of my real interests is in building environments that live WITH other environments, instead of just stomping all over the top of them. I love guys like Frank Lloyd Wright, and Malcolm Wells, and even Frank Gehry.
Note: I’m not trying to build “Taliesin” a fellowship devoted to organic architecture, but I have been accused of participating in “a fellowship of fools…”
Speaking of “fools…”You know what I remember most from school? The lesson where “a fool and his money are soon parted.” And, I’m that fool. If I am not 110% sure of what I’m building, especially something as technical as a recording studio, then my money would be destined to fly out that sound lock door, and disappear into the mist…
But building a recording studio requires a LOT of math. In fact, the calculations look like something you’d see on a NASA blackboard, plotting out trips to the lunar surfaces of the Moon. Not me. Nuh-uh! Music and math go hand in hand, and anyone who tells you otherwise, is an idiot. But math and I don’t get along well enough to accomplish everything that has to happen “right on the decimal point” to make a studio sing…
So, it’s time to enlist a designer. But who to hire? I mean, they all sound good, they know the right buzz words, they start talking abut things that sound official (that go completely over your head), and then… you have to sort them all out.
Wanna know how I did it? I started this out by sending out a crazy and heavily detailed email. An email filled with Harleys, angst, desire, and even challenge. And then, I fielded the phone calls.
Man, I had some crazy conversations. Conversations filled with stuff like “what you’re trying to do is impossible,” and “you’d better have deep pockets,” and “I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking on a project like this.”
And those were just the conversations with my wife! LOL!
After all, all I wanted was a gem of a recording studio, loaded with racks and racks of vintage and high-end gear housed inside an acoustically-impeccable “Starship Bridge.”
Seriously, most of the guys I talked to wanted to double or triple my budget, knock down the warehouses, and then… build some eyesore that would stick out like a monument.
“It’s a farm, you idiot!! If I wanted LA in my front yard, I’d live on Sepulveda Blvd.! Hello? I don’t want to look out into the yard, and see an industrial park with siding on it. No thanks!”
So, what I needed… was a great plan. I needed somebody who could identify with me as a musician. I needed someone who understood my desire to keep the studio simpatico with the land. I needed a guy who understands music as well as architecture. I needed a really geeky musician who wasn’t afraid of “chain calculations.” I needed a guy who understood producing. I needed a guy like…

WES LACHOT
After all, who’s better at committing and executing great plans, than Wes Lachot? Hmmm?
Nobody I know.
So, we’ll talk about what Wes Lachot brings to the party.
Stay tuned!
