Homemade noize, a growing collection of DIY projects and software plugins, mostly aimed at amateur recording enthusiasts.

And Spinmeister’s Extreme Mixer (eMXR) site, which focuses on online collaboration and remixing. From the site:

Long held business models for recorded music are crumbling not only because of file sharing, but also because of the increasing supply of free or inexpensive music of excellent quality created in homes rather than recording studios. Long held country specific IP (intellectual property) and licensing models are made obsolete by the global reach of the Internet for music makers and consumers alike.

On that topic, here’s a chilling little anecdote from Seth Godin’s blog about
choosing music in a world with limitless supply

It’s almost impossible to buy music with no frame of reference. There were no hits, no recommendations, no “if you like x, you’ll like y”. I realized that the time it would take to decide if I liked an album was probably worth more than the $3 it would cost to buy one–in other words, not even worth it for ‘free.’

Their technology, as described (it’s not available yet,) differs from existing offerings like NimJam, Net Music Makers and Collaboration Central, which aren’t real-time, and the original eJamming software which was MIDI-only. Most likely, it’s closer to Audio Fabric’s Desktop, and eJamming’s just-announced, and inexplicably named, AUDiiO. Both of these support the real-time exchange of full audio.

“Real-time,” however, comes with a caveat in this context, one that Lightspeed doesn’t hint at: You might meet your band mates virtually, but their physical location still matters.

Stories and images of musicians jamming on the Internet remind me of three things: Bell Sympatico; my experience 8 years ago with Guitar FX Box; and The 500-Mile Email.

I think first of Sympatico for reasons obvious only to Canadians. Bell ran an ad campaign here called “Online Jam,” and the spots (shown every commercial break for 6 months back in 2002) presented an assortment of musicians, located all over the world, rhapsodizing in a virtual jam session. They sure seemed happy to have their DSL modems, these visually appealing, geographically diverse virtuosos. And every musician I know wanted to jam with that guy in Kenya, even if we couldn’t speak his language.

But Bell gave up the ads when we figured out, thanks to Myspace, that music on the Internet is visually appalling … and mostly out of tune.

Guitar FX Box comes to mind next because of the revelation it brought. Billed at the time as a “digital stompbox,” the program convinced me to finally plug my electric guitar directly into my computer. Until then, recording with my PC involved Cakewalk, a Sound Canvas, and Cooledit (back when it was free) with a cheap old mic.

I had never hooked up an electric guitar, because raw lined-in guitar sounds horrible. Guitar FX Box promised to change that with all manner of effects to fatten up the dry signal. And it delivered, after a fashion. The effects themselves sounded good. But my interface was a lowly Soundblaster Live card for which, in 1999, no ASIO or WDM drivers existed. So the latency I experienced was significant, on the order of 40 milliseconds. It shocked me how disconcerting I found this; and I was enlightened, to the importance of hearing notes as I played them.

40ms is well above the threshold of human perception, and generally considered unacceptable for any musical use. Especially for percussive instruments, like drums and fast-picked guitar, latencies larger than about 10ms tend to distract the performer. A good analogy for this effect, if you haven’t experienced it first hand, is the awkward pauses exhibited by newscasters and their remote interviewees talking via satellite. Granted the delay in those cases is closer to 500ms, but the effect is the same: Humans (and musicians) simply aren’t comfortable with a world that doesn’t respond in a timely manner.

The 500-mile Email is a great story which I’m about to spoil for you if you haven’t read it.

In brief: A network technician discovers that his server can only send email to machines within a 500 mile radius. There’s no technical problem with the remote machines, and the Internet is working fine. He’s puzzled, because “distance” is a meaningless concept on the Internet. And yet his server just fails to send messages any further than 500 miles. He finally tracks the issue to a bug which causes all outbound connections to break after 3 milliseconds. So any message that takes longer than 3ms gets cut off, and aborts. The punchline: emails travel at the speed of light, and 3ms happens to be the time it takes light to go 500 miles.

Over the distances we deal with in our everyday lives, the speed of light is effectively infinite. But that changes on the Internet. In fact, signals on fiber optic networks travel a good deal slower than the speed of light. The fiber itself slows light to 2/3rds of its usual speed, and the various routers and switches that a signal encounters along the way slow it even further.

The effect is so significant that Google’s network design allows for it, as described in Google vs. The Speed of Light:

one of the biggest long-term problems the internet faces is that of Latency (communication delay) due to the limits of light speed. Light is just too slow for instant communication.

“Instant communication” sounds a little like “real time jamming” …

Audio Fabric cover the effects of latency on real-time jamming:

Although any type of musical interaction is sensitive to delay and latency, a certain amount is acceptable. As long as the audio stream you are receiving from your collaborators reaches you within 40ms from the time the sound signal was created, you should be able to synchronize reasonably well. This is particularly true when the music is played at slower to moderate tempos. Musical sychronization[sic] among players at faster tempos, such as Bebop Jazz or Speed Metal jams, is optimally achieved when the one-way delay is at or below 30ms.

In my experience (though admittedly not with their service,) 30ms is the absolute upper threshold for tolerable latency. Even playing a swelling pad on a keyboard, 30ms is enough that the keyboard’s response feels “off.” Consider, too, that jamming is inherently bi-directional. Musicians keep themselves in time with visual and audible cues, and you know how important this is if you’ve played with a hearing-impaired drummer.

So one-way delays of 30ms become two-way delays of 60ms. And this completely ignores any latency in the signal chains at either end of the connection.

Of course, that’s why Audio Fabric ultimately states “you can collaborate in real-time in hi-fidelity with only those who are within several hundred network miles of you.” And barring any changes to the laws of physics, Lightspeed Audio will offer the same caveat.

I don’t mean to minimize the potential of Lightspeed’s technology. Assuming they don’t render their name ironic by offering trans-continental jams, and assuming their “low-latency value-added network and audio CODEC technology” are as exciting as the marketing department believes, they’ll still offer a reasonable real-time experience for local musicians.

But make no mistake: the dudes you jam with will speak the same language as you.

For more articles about online jamming, and home recording in general,
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You all know how difficult it is to find the time to get together and rehearse, write, record and produce, but, nevertheless, it usually works out somehow. But imagine the difficulty of trying to do this when you and your music partner don’t live on the same continent.

If you have an interest in making music this way, guitarz-for-ever.com has some tips to get you started.

I’m a member of the band Gert. Until we played together in person this summer, our year-long collaboration was entirely virtual. 6 song writers, a continent apart, connected by musical tastes and the Internet. We’re still a band in the general sense, but in place of schedule conflicts, angry neighbours, and ego clashes, we deal with time zones, bit rates, and ego clashes.

The 6 of us have played in bands for years, but most of our past experience isn’t relevant to creating music virtually. Collaborating with 3000 miles between band mates has little in common with traditional jamming. Though that’s not always a bad thing, as we’ve discovered in the last year. On one hand, music – especially for performers – is interactive. With some limited exceptions, the Internet does not facilitate real-time musical interaction, so musicians who rely on visual or audible cues are at a disadvantage. But on the other hand, creativity is usually a personal and private experience. Many people feel liberated with no band mates or groupies in the room, which in turn opens up creative avenues not possible with the traditional approach.

In Gert, we’ve learned to work around the obstacles to our creativity, and in fact we’ve capitalized on the benefits the Internet affords us to create some fantastic music. Below, I provide insight into what it takes musicians in different cities to write and record a song together. I also describe in detail how we wrote Sweet Lovin’ Woman (I Hate You), with samples of the song as it progressed, and the discussion around the choices we made while writing.

If you’ve considered online collaboration yourself, or are simply curious about how distributed creativity works, read on.

In our year working together, we’ve refined our process for remote collaboration, both technically and creatively.

The technical details are straightforward:

• We use a phpBB board for discussion (visit Gert Mansion.) Though we could just as easily use email, we prefer the bulletin board because it keeps things centralized.
• We email MP3 versions of rough ideas. Since these ideas are only for discussion, quality isn’t important.
• We work to a click-track to keep things synched. To ensure that the raw tracks line up as intended, we agree on the song’s tempo beforehand, and include a bar or two of click-track at the start of each WAV file, in case a manual synch is needed.
• We collect raw tracks on a shared FTP server. When quality does matter, specifically for the individual tracks that make up the final mix, we use a shared FTP account and transfer 24 bit/44.1 KHz WAV files. Since none of us use the same DAW (collectively, we use Sonar, Cubase, and Digital Performer, on PCs and Macs,) we avoid program-specific formats and use raw WAV files for everything.

I say this is straightforward because most musicians collaborating online will, from necessity, learn these details quickly. (With the possible exception of the click-track, though it may not be important to everyone. In Gert, we realized early that we work chaotically, throwing parts at the wall to see what sticks. Without the luxury of first recording drums and bass as bed tracks, which is the traditional “band in the flesh” approach, we couldn’t keep things coherent without a click-track.)

The creative side of our process is more complicated. Like all creative activities, it varies somewhat each time we do it. However, after collaborating on 11 songs, we’ve learned what works and what doesn’t:

• Every songs start with an idea from one of us, usually a guitar riff with simple accompaniment (or in the case of Sweet Lovin Woman’, a bass loop.) Generally, we propose ideas via email with a quickly-recorded scratch track. However, this doesn’t guarantee the band will immediately work on the new song, as we have 3 or 4 ideas on the table at any time. We don’t make real progress on a song until one of us arranges a structure. (More on this below.)
• Each member of Gert has presented ideas. We write by collaboration. While this may not work for all bands (for example, many depend on a primary song writer for ideas,) Gert has 6 musicians with solo catalogs and egos.
• We don’t present “finished” ideas. Since we aim to collaborate, we’ve found it best to build the song collectively rather than rely on a single songwriter as architect.
• We agree on a structure. The ball doesn’t get rolling on our songs until someone is inspired to arrange a proper structure. Mostly, this involves deciding how the song should flow: Will there be a chorus? 3 or 4 verses? 16 bars of guitar wankery, or should we let Mike sing a little longer? You can see this clearly below, where I take Paul’s idea, propose a chorus for it, and map out the song’s sections.
• One person volunteers to mix. There’s a technical reason for this (i.e. it’s not possible for multiple people in different cities to simultaneously mix the song,) but it’s also a creative requirement. We need a designated mixer because, while everyone in Gert maintains their creative freedom, we recognize that someone has to make final decisions. Sometimes a riff or harmony just doesn’t fit, so we have the mixer to serve as director (and occasionally, benevolent dictator … remember: Egos!) In the example below, I played this role.
• We write … This is the meat of Gert’s creative process. For a few days, we enjoy a creative free-for-all. Anything goes: guitar riffs, lyrics, melodies, rhythms, harmonies. All 6 members of the band sing and play guitar, and 3 of us are drummers, so there are no designated instruments (though for consistency between songs, Tom always records the final drum track.) Ideally, as the song builds, we play off each other’s ideas with the bigger picture in mind, so each new part adds something to the song. When we’re done with our “audio brainstorming,” the mixer decides which pieces work best together, and starts on the final mix.
• We all approve the final mix. A second (or in our case, fifth) set of ears will hear nuances that the mixer’s ears glossed over. And since we all monitor through different equipment, feedback from the band is the virtual equivalent of checking how our mix translates to 5 different systems.

To show how this works in practice, I’ve assembled an audio chronology of our process for the song Sweet Lovin’ Woman. If your browser supports Flash you can hear the tracks below using the “play” button beside each sample, or you can stream/download an MP3 via the “mp3″ link.

The “discussion” box that follows each sound file expands to show some of the emails we exchanged while working with the idea at that stage. Click on this box to see how we interact while collaborating.

If you’re not familiar with the song, you might enjoy following its creation before listening to the final version.

Paul started us off with a simple loop idea. His original track sounds nothing like the final song, though it does establish the bass line which became the song’s main instrumental hook.

Paul’s idea didn’t immediately inspire anyone else, so it sat neglected for a few days. This is actually the norm with our songwriting efforts, and it happens not because the initial ideas are bad, but because of the fickle nature of creativity. Writers rely on a creative spark, and until an idea manages to strike that spark, there’s not much we can do with it. In this case, Paul laid an ad-libbed vocal (though much of it remains in the final version) over top of his original idea, lighting a fire under our creativity and the debate that accompanies it.

Lively debate on how to proceed is a sure sign that an idea resonates with the band. The main topic of debate here was whether we should add a chorus section or leave this track as a “jam.”

Discussion (click to display)

The mixer is charged with discarding pieces that don’t fit the final mix, but we also drop concepts as we write. When it’s obvious something doesn’t fit, or would take us in the wrong direction, we put the idea aside. In this example, Rich proposed a Radiohead-esque vocal line that wasn’t so well-received.

Discussion (click to display)

We hadn’t agreed yet on whether or not the song needed a change – be it a chorus or bridge – but as I listened to Paul’s idea I heard what seemed like a natural change. So I recorded my thoughts, and stitched them together with Paul’s idea. (Note: The song sounds significantly different here because I added a drum machine to tie our parts together.)

Along with my recording, I mapped out how I thought the song should flow, start to finish. You can see this in the discussion below. I went with a standard rock song arrangement, with verses, choruses, and a solo break. The mp3 of this idea that I shared with the band ran the full 96 bars so others could use it as a backing track for their subsequent ideas.

Discussion (click to display)

The next few samples show what I described as the meat of our writing process. The song evolves iteratively, with each of us trying ideas and adding parts to previous mixes. In this sample, Rob added some keyboard noodling and a percussion riff between the first two verses.

At this point, I also volunteered to mix the final track, as Tom (who originally wanted a crack at it) was too busy. The mixer plays a creative role, and each of us is qualified for the job, so we take turns at mixing. Tom did the next song.

Discussion (click to display)

Here, Rich added a “porno” guitar riff (or “Shaft” riff if you prefer.) More importantly, he presented a vocal for the chorus section that we agreed unanimously was perfect. Given the importance of the chorus as hook in most rock songs, it might seem odd to write the chorus in the middle of the process, almost as an afterthought. However, that’s one of our favorite aspects of this approach. If something doesn’t work, we drop it, and when something works as well as Rich’s chorus, it stands out!

(This sample also illustrates our lack of concern for audio quality while we share ideas. Rich didn’t waste time balancing his mix, because his simple “faders-up” mix conveyed all we needed to hear.)

Discussion (click to display)

Next, Rob added some ebow’d guitar. This became my favorite moment in the song, because of the way it carries the listener into the second verse.

Discussion (click to display)

This sample features Paul’s re-tracked vocals (with no ad-libs this time,) and Tom’s first contribution to the track (with lots of ad-libs.) His drum part is clearly a jam, but hearing his thoughts let us give him the feedback he needed to nail the part.

Discussion (click to display)

Here, Mike added his distinctive voice to the song’s intro.

Discussion (click to display)

As we near the end of our writing process, Tom needs a drum-free mix to record his final drum take with. The drum-free mix makes it easier for him to follow changes and accents, and the bass guitar.

The sample here features the final versions of all parts (except the guitar solos,) including some harmonies that Rich and I added.

Discussion (click to display)

And here is the final mix, with Tom’s “keeper” drum performance. I made a few changes as I mixed, adding a second guitar solo in the break section, and an extra beat at the end of the intro to help the first verse’s impact.

Discussion (click to display)

We were thrilled with how this track turned out. And 9 successful collaborations later, Sweet Lovin’ Woman is still my favorite Gert song, because we clicked so well creatively while writing it. (You can hear our other work on Gert’s web site.) Even though geography separates us, we’ve found, in our virtual creative process, a way to connect and create some great music.