Rick Rubin: Prophet or Producer?
Is Rick Rubin on a par with George Martin, Glyn Johns and Jimmy Miller in the pantheon of elite Rock producers? In his own mind, I’m sure he thinks he is and documentary filmmaker Morgan Neville apparently agrees.
But as an independent observer, I would also say, sure, and why not? Who amongst his peers has a longer and deeper resume? So can we leave it at that?
In other words, does that justify the rather odd four part look at Rick Rubin’s unfinished career which recently aired on Showtime? As an exercise in ego stroking, it is quite the handjob. That it might be deserved is muted by Rick’s gleeful participation.
That said, it is his hucksterism that helped solidify the absolute dominance of Rap and Hip-Hop in the world of Popular music today. So there is that.
As has been said about many persons in history, he was the right man at the right time. It was Rick’s suggestions that broadened the genre’s fan base, taking it from the urban center city and expanding out to the white and middle class suburbs. That migration would reduce Rock to second class status amongst mainstream non- Pop music fans and there is no indication that will ever change.
His second legacy to Hip Hop is the sound he helped impart to those early records by Run-DMC, LL Cool J, The Beastie Boys and Public Enemy. Lacking the resources and credibility to deliver a more saturated sound, he made the best of what could then be achieved.
Those early arrangements are minimalist but crisp and clean. That nobody today takes the same approach to the genre is irrelevant. Those artists just wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t cut the path.
Still, Rick was not the artist but the producer. He may have provided the canvas but it was the genius of the musicians he worked with that provided the art. Nobody goes to a gallery to admire the craftsmanship of the framing and Rick would be long forgotten if the songs weren’t seminal.
Again, that is not to disparage the man or his contribution. Rather it is to put it in context. To be sure many of the artists interviewed in the documentary are wildly generous in their praise of Rick. And since they were there and I was not, you have to defer to what they are implying. To wit, that he was more then just the guy who checked the levels and cleaned up the background noise.
Rick’s self reward for all that effort is to see himself in mystical terms. He espouses a philosophy and a lifestyle that he equates with the creativity of the artist. That few call bullshit on him is, as I said, something that has to be considered when putting him into context. And to be clear, the man is entitled to his philosophy of life.
But perhaps the situation is more about the turmoil the modern artist finds him or herself in. They can’t focus because of the constant non-musical demands being made of them. Enter Rick and Shangri-La.
In the social media saturated world we all find ourselves in, Rick gives artists a literal blank slate with his Shangri-La recording space. Moreover, in his current incarnation, he now also now lends a sympathetic and gentle shoulder to lean on.
But Is he telling people anything they don’t want to hear? When he sympathizes with artists who feel they are stuck in a rut and that they are just repeating themselves does he and them not see that all humans experience that same reality? Wash, rinse and repeat.
Everyday tasks can kinda suck but in some ways, thank God for them. It is the routine that keeps us alive. There really is no alternative way to grow a tomato. Moreover, routine tasks like sweeping can put you in the same zen like place as taking an ice bath. So as interesting as all that philosophical contemplation is in the documentary, that is not what makes this man notable.
What it all has to come down to then is the music he helped these artists deliver. As, I implied earlier, the title Producer, regardless of that Producer’s name, will not sell a single song if the music sucks. But a Producer can provide the context and perhaps an overall feel or atmosphere and the best do just that. Combine that factor with the artists best work and you have something ethereal without the hours of time needed for proper meditation.
Take Glyn Johns, for example, his sound on Who’s Next is almost antiseptic…grandly so. It is of a piece with what Pete Townshend was trying to convey regarding the tension between music and technology. It heightens the meaning of the material.
Now consider Behind The Sun or, better yet, Me and My Friends and compare those tunes to Give It Away. Is there a meaningful difference between them that you can attribute to Rick? Yet only one of the three was produced by him.
Which means that Rick, as a Rock producer, is not necessarily an audio genius. Note the qualifier, Rock producer. With someone like Tom Petty who, at the time, was on top of his game, I could have produced Wildflowers and it still would have come out with memorable sound.
On the other hand, did Rick’s mental care and comforting of personalities like Flea, Kiedis, Frusciante, as well as mature artists like Johnny Cash and Tom Petty make a difference to those records he produced? Maybe. Johnny’s version of Hurt certainly ties to make you a believer.
I suppose what troubled me most over the course of four hours is not Rick’s philosophical musings or the creative editing the filmmakers indulged in. Those are both interesting and, in fact, the documentary is eminently watchable. Rather it is everybody’s amazing failure to grasp the essential nature of what made his work so special.
In short, Rick is so invested in his current incarnation, that he wants to see his work as mystical and worthy of his personal spiritual awakening. In their old age, many of the artists Rick worked with early on indulge the intellectual gloss he now wants to dress those early recordings in. But is that really what those songs were about?
There is poetic romantic love and then there is instinctual flat our fucking. Early Beasties, Run-DMC and LL are fucking. They are immediate, in your face and a gut punch just like the Clash and the Ramones and N.W.A.
They call for a bottle of Crown and a Queens house party not a Buddhist Monk. And this is no small thing. In fact, it is the essence of the free spirit one seeks via meditation. To let yourself go via music and sex may not be polite museum talk but it is fucking fun and makes life worth living.
So yeah, I admire Rick Rubin and that early music and if he wants to shoot the shit over some tea about the meaning of it all, I’m game. And when I want to pull my wife close and feel her breathtaking body next to mine while One Shot At Love plays, I’ll thank Rick and LL…just maybe not then and there.
Send me some claps so I know how you feel. Also this piece is dedicated to my beautiful wife NA. Her musical tastes challenge and inspire me, even if mine drive her nuts.
