"Must record in a studio. Must record in a studio" - it's a mantra that has been drummed into bands for years and years by... well, mostly by people who own studios. These shady men with bad hair seek to control the arcane knowledge of the 'mixer', the 'desk' and other things that would cause mere mortals/band members to go insane if they were to try and understand them. The Engineer won't explain and we are all too scared to ask.

Well, bollocks to that. Sergeant Pepper was recorded on a four track - yes, a four track! - as was Jimi Hendrix. These 4 track machines made the PortaStudios of today look like fucking space stations. And how do these records sound? Do they sound crap and 'home recorded'? I think we all know the answer to that one.

Studios aren't the only place you can commit your genius to tape. DIY recording can be easier, cheaper, and the results can be amazing, whether you're a bedroom techno overlord or Bruce Springsteen, battering out Nebraska on an ancient 4-track.

I realised that studios could be a very expensive waste of time when I was about 17, doing a recording course at my sixth form college. Along with remixing a song the teacher had written in the 70s (sort of Jingle Bell Rock without the bells, or the rock), I had my first chance to use a creaking Tascam Porta One. Sitting at home with my guitar plugged straight into the input, trying to make a version of With Or Without You while my parents watched TV at the other end of the room, I felt much more relaxed than when I'd used the college studio. I still have the tape of With Or Without You, and it still sounds pretty cool.

The next time I was in a studio (in a band called Sandhopper) I'd forgotten my experience with the four track. When the band decided to capture its sound, we headed straight to Sound Station One in Birmingham. We'd already made an eight-track demo in the drummer's bedroom, but we figured that we'd need a "proper" demo in order to get signed - a big priority back then. After several hours and a couple of hundred quid, the labels we sent the tapes to said that they preferred the sound of the dodgy eight track stuff.

Listening to the tapes now, I can see why. The eight-track recording was rough and a bit muffled, but it sounded like us. The studio recording was us being made to sound like the engineer's band (they were called Electraglide, and they were shit). The next demo was recorded two months later on a Porta One, was slightly less muffled, and sounded like us - it got demo of the month in Brum Beat magazine.

When I went to University, the Student Loan Company very kindly bought me a Tascam 424, a Fender Jazzmaster and a car. Suddenly I was annoying my housemates by recording channels of screaming feedback while they tried to sleep. And then the solo tapes began. I was in a band, but now I was a solo artist as well! I could record whenever I wanted, and it was ace.

The best thing was the freedom. I wasn't watching the clock, worrying about how much everything was costing me. This gave me the opportunity to explore sounds and ways of recording that I would never even tried in a studio: overloading channels, recording with the tape the wrong way to get things sounding backwards, putting vocals through effects pedals, changing the speed to pitch-shift a guitar into a bass... I learned all of these because I wasn't paying for the privilege.

Last year the trusty Tascam was finally retired, and I embraced the world of digital by buying a Roland VS840EX. Now I have studio-quality recording whenever and wherever I want - and I have no intention of ever using a studio again. I'll never have to explain what I want something to sound like to an engineer, because I am the engineer! When I hear a sound in my head, I know how to get it down on tape (or hard disk, as it is now) because I've been fannying around with home studios for the best part of ten years.

 

Part 2: How to do it