Steve Litchfield

The use case here isn't universal, but it is quite common. There are tracks ripped from old vinyl, or available as 'extras' from various sources, and which haven't been attended to by a professional publisher already. You know, those 'Unreleased demo 2' tracks on band Y's latest re-release of a 1975 classic. They all add value to the re-release, but no one has taken the time to actually improve the quality. Well not until now. Using the tools that we have in 2024, it's possible to take tracks apart to a degree and then put them back together in a way that presents the vocals and instruments more clearly. So, where there was originally a mono-ish, muddy mix, probably a capture of a cassette copy of a rehearsal, or similar, we can now have a much clearer, wider stereo version that sounds as if it was recorded in 1995 rather than 1975. Well maybe. Perhaps nearer 1985 in some cases! But better, that's the point. Begging the question 'How do I do thi...

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not averse to technology, even within music - I'm a fan of electronica, think Klaus Schulze, think Jean Michel Jarre, even think modern trance. So I'm not against sequenced, synchronised music per se.  However, when it comes to rock music - you know, guitar, bass, and drums, I contend that it was the advent of the click track that heralded 'the end' of real music. With feeling, with excitement, with a sense that everything could go horribly wrong. Or right. Which is partly why so much of the best rock music in history was recorded in the 1960s and - especially - the 1970s, with click tracks that drummers had to stick closely to coming in at the start of the 1980s.  The idea was that by playing along to click tracks (in headphones), the dummer would be forced to stick to a specific tempo and cadence, stopping any unwanted speeding up or slowing down, and - mostly - ensuring that keyboard parts and sequencers could be overlaid and stil...