By: Becky Firesheets

No sound engineer goes into the business to become famous.  The band onstage gets all the attention for an awesome show while the engineer packs up in the shadows.  “It sounded great!” fans often say to the lead singer.  But if there’s piercing feedback, an annoying buzz or a muddy mix, the engineer always gets the attention.  Rarely do we consider the constant tweaking of knobs at a typical show or the amount of hours put into mixing a solid album, yet we are quick to blame when something goes wrong.  But for an audio engineer, that’s just part of the job.  A good engineer makes the music sound great.  If the music sounds great, people should be paying attention to it, not to the dude in black hidden behind the board.  Pretty glory-less work.  But without a good engineer, a good band is worthless.

Jonathan Jacobi is a prime example of a good engineer.  Jacobi has been mixing bands since high school when he listened to a mic through headphones for the first time and knew immediately what he’d be doing with the rest of his life.  Based out of Tel Aviv, Jacobi focuses mostly on recording and mixing rock-and-roll but throws in a little funk and electronica from time to time.  And he’s not just good at hearing the technical side of things; Jacobi also knows how to listen to the musicians, to capture the sounds and vibes they want.

Read our Q&A below and make sure to say "Thanks" to the sound engineer while you're out this weekend!

BF: Do you focus on recording or live work?
JJ: Both!

BF: Do you have a preference between the two?
JJ: Well, I really love both.  If I had to choose one, I’d probably go with studio work, but I really love both.  I like the process of studio work.  When you make a record, you have a relationship with the music, with the artist, with the band.  It’s like it’s own thing, it has turns, like a whole story.  I would compare it to a one-night thing versus a relationship.  But I love both, absolutely. 

BF: You work mainly in Tel Aviv?
JJ: Tel Aviv is the artistic capital of Israel.  If you want to create music and have people listen to it, you go to Tel Aviv.  There’s support for all the arts in Tel Aviv, musicians, photographers, artists.  There are a lot of young people, a big audience.

BF: How does the popular music of Israel differ from the music you've seen while traveling in the States?
JJ: Well, I think the popular music in Israel is different because of the Mediterranean and Arabic influences.  In the States, there's more black music.  In Israel it is much more Arabic influenced.

BF: Do you choose the bands you work with, are they assigned to you, or a mix?
JJ: It’s a mixture.  Usually they will come to me.  Usually they know my work, will come to me and say, “Alright, can you make us a record?”  There were a couple of times where I approached the bands, saying, “You guys have great music.  Come to me when you want to make a record and I will help you.”  Once I was actually a part of the sound crew for the American Idol of Israel!

BF: Really?  That’s funny!
JJ: Yeah, it was… interesting.

BF: So, when making a record, I know that some engineers have a heavy-handed role in the process while others step back and let the band do their thing.  What’s your role?
JJ: Usually I’m asked for an opinion and when asked, I will give my opinion and say honestly what I think.  But, I wouldn’t say anything if I’m not asked because sometimes it can hurt or harm the flow of a session if there’s another mouth talking, if there’s another head.  ‘Cause sometimes you’ll see a band that really knows what they’re doing, they ask you something, you answer and it’s cool. Sometimes the band is kind of confused and if you say something you might confuse them even more.  It’s very tricky changing from session to session.  That’s why I always try to get to know the people, hang out with the band for a while before recording, listen to music together, see their responses, how they interact with one another.  That will determine how I will act in the sessions.

BF: For the most part, do you feel positive about the projects you’ve worked on or were there tough moments?
JJ: I feel good about it, but it’s rough!  Musicians do not usually trust people very easily.  It’s hard to gain the respect.  Every time I was mixing live for a band that I liked and the band liked the sound, it was much easier to approach them and say, “Alright, you see that I know what I’m doing, please come and make a record with me.”  That was the door in.  In everything you do, you won’t trust anybody without knowing their work.  When someone approaches and gives you their business card, you’re not going to call them.  But I have this sort of fling, this little thing with the bands, and when they respect me, it’s easier.

BF: What album are you the most proud of?
JJ: I think this record for a girl, Yarona Casbi.  I think that is the best record I’ve made.  I’m really proud of the sounds I got there.  The music is cool, it was a lot of fun making this record with a band that I liked so much.  Her backing band was great.  She came to us at the studio and she didn’t have a band.  She wanted to make a record and was like, “I have my music, I need to find a band.”  So we hooked her up with a group we thought would fit in and it was a great combination, great chemistry right away.  They started rehearsing and in two months, we started the record. 

BF: So you helped in the recording sessions, and the mixing process?
JJ: Yes, I was the recording engineer and the mixing, and then I gave it on for mastering.  I always prefer to not master my own mixes, to have another pair of ears listen to it.  Different ears, different opinions.  Non-biased ears are important, ‘cause sometimes when you hear the same songs so many times while mixing, you already know everything in it by heart.  You don’t need to hear the exact notes on guitar ‘cause you know they should be there.  You get biased, you think you can hear it but you don’t.  You listen from not a clean point of view.  So, I find that the more I listen to something, it can get fucked up because I listen so much that I don’t really hear everything.