Producers help musicians make most of their music

They aren't quite stars, but music producers are an intrinsic part of the recording process. Think of George Martin's masterful work with The Beatles, or Rick Rubin's merging rock and rap via the Beastie Boys, or Dr. Dre's sonic wizardry with Eminem.

But what exactly does producing entail• It's a question that has no real answer, even for those who do it.

"I didn't even know what a producer was," says Norman Nardini, the Pittsburgh-based musician who started producing local bands including Diamond Reo in the 1970s. "I think I was producing before I knew what it was. I was just kind of born that way."

Sean McDonald, who produces music at Sofa King Music Servies in Swissvale, thinks producers fall into two categories.

"There are guys who have been around a lot of styles and a lot of different music and you can pull stuff from those experiences," says McDonald, who has played in punk, disco, rock, soul and R&B bands. "Or you're a guy who has been immersed in it, from recording music to playing music with others."

Mitch Easter, the North Carolina-based producer who has worked with REM, Suzanne Vega and Game Theory, admits the job description is a vague one.

"And it's become more vague over the years," he says. "The image of the of the producer who absolutely orchestrated everything, you don't see that too much anymore."

McDonald sees his role akin to that of a film director.

"The director is in control of all creative content," says McDonald, who has worked with Ben E. King, Aretha Franklin, Little Richard, Wynton Marsalis and The Clarks. ... The song is the script, the actors are the musicians, the engineer is the cinematographer. The producer says 'bigger, smaller, blacker, whiter.'"

While there are schools that teach the basics of music production, there's no test to measure the skills of a producer. There's no accreditation, no certificates or diplomas to be hung on a wall.

The technical skill set — being able to navigate a soundboard — is almost secondary to having an innate sense of what sounds good, of having the ability to determine if a session is working or not

But it's not enough to be able to be able to figure out how a verse should segue into a chorus, or if a guitar is too loud or a vocal needs to be an octave higher. Producers need to be able to intuit, with an almost Zen-like wisdom, the needs of the musicians in the studio.

"I was going to say, you just have to be cool," Easter says. "You have to be able to figure out what's going on with a band. Figure what they're about, figure out how you can communicate with them. ... If I was going to go to make a record and have somebody produce me, I'd want to feel like when I was talking to them, they were actually listening to me, and they understood what they were saying.

"But as soon as I said that, it dawns on me that a lot of the really famous producers are these sledgehammer types who just sort of tell you how it's going to be, and that's it. People seem to love that, but I don't like that. I much prefer a cooperative kind of situation."

Producers often are charged with being arbiters, offering unbiased assessments of vocals, guitar parts or songs in general. That can be a difficult task when working with musicians who, by their very nature, are creatures of ego.

"Especially if they're not performing well, you do have to be diplomatic in the way you tell them that," says Larry Luther, a producer at Mr. Small's Studio in the North Side who has worked with musicians including 50 Cent, Ryan Adams, Clutch, GWAR and the Black Eyed Peas. "Especially singers; they can be sensitive. If you upset them, you're working against yourself.

"You're trying to get the best out of them in any situation, and sometimes it's just a matter of stopping for awhile, taking a break, going on to something else, then coming back. It can be tricky, for sure."

McDonald says he relishes the give-and-take that often occurs in the studio and is an intrinsic part of the creative process. It's how a producer conveys what can be drastic changes that requires a light touch.

"As a songwriter," McDonald says, "I know these things are very, very personal, so you have to be able to tell the singer that the lyrics are kind of corny, in the right way. Some guys you can be direct with, and some guys you have to cajole them, pussyfoot around.

"It's finding people's buttons and motivational points, finding how you have to communicate. Everybody's different, and a very big part of being a producer is getting out of them what you want. Sometimes they don't even know you've corralled them in a certain direction."

Nardini has a simple guideline when producing a record.

"I'm interested in finding people and teaching them to play better together," Nardini says, "and taking the material they do have to a higher level, capturing that magic."

Because of that, Nardini will turn down offers to work on a project if he doesn't think it's right for him. He not only has to like the music, but also the musicians involved. And they have to like him.

"If you can't develop a chemistry, maybe it's better to find someone else," he says. "I tell them the same thing: I'm not that desperate to do it. I only want to do it when it's magical."

• Sean McDonald on working with Ben E. King and Wynton Marsalis:

"The guy (Ben E. King) has sung probably four or five of The Top 100 songs. ... He couldn't have been a sweeter, nicer dude. When we were cutting 'Stand By Me' ... he's asking me for direction. I've been doing this for awhile, and I don't typically get too rattled, but I had a moment. It was 'Dude, you just told Ben E. King to sing that again, that it could be a little better.'"

With Wynton Marsalis, McDonald was asked to record the jazz trumpet player at WQED's studio in Oakland. "With somebody like that there is no boredom. It's like a live concert. You get the mikes to where you think is the best place for them and get the hell out of the way."

• Larry Luther on working with Ryan Adams:

"They had booked (Mr. Smalls Theatre) to practice for their shows opening up for the Rolling Stones. They needed a place to practice and were thrilled when they learned we had a studio there. We just set up microphones on the stage and recorded them as a band playing live. It worked out really well. It was a really cool experience."