Recording solo piano pieces on a crappy cassette recorder gave me a good start, but I needed two big things to realize my aural vision:

Thing #1: More timbres than just “piano”
Thing #2: More recording tracks than just “one”

If you’re not familiar with the term, “timbre” is one of the major attributes of a musical note (along with pitch, volume, and duration) which gives a note its distinct sound or color. In concrete terms, it’s why a one-second long, mezzo-forte, middle C played on a guitar sounds different than a one-second long, mezzo-forte, middle C played on bagpipes. Although it’s the exact same note, one of them sounds pleasant and the other sounds like a cat trying to extract itself from a vacuum cleaner.

Thing #1

At this point in my tale, I was still in college. I’d accumulated numerous cassette tapes full of bad piano playing and I was ready to branch out sonically (in spite of not actually being ready).

I got my wish in the form of a friend’s synthesizer. Although I didn’t own this piece of gear, I pretty much had access to it whenever I wanted. I can’t tell you the exact model, but I’m about 45% sure it was the Korg Poly-800:

While this wasn’t the first time in my life I’d poked at an electronic keyboard, it was the first time I did so with great intent. And while this hardly represented the pinnacle of music synthesis, it did open my eyes to a world of opportunities.

Thing #2

Having multiple timbres at my fingertips was a big step forward, but I needed to figure out how to record more than one timbre at a time. So I set my little brain to work on the problem and came up with a solution that no one before me had ever done. No one, that is, apart from the people who invented it over three decades earlier and had been replicated by millions since.

I managed to obtain not one but two cassette tape recorders. When it came time to record multiple instruments, I’d hit the record button on one tape recorder and play the first track. When finished, I’d rewind that tape and put it in the second cassette deck. Then for the second track, I’d playback the first recording while performing the second part along with myself. Les Paul would’ve been proud.

Technically speaking, this produced a multitrack recording. However the process was tedious, impossible to mix, and generated layers upon layers of noise as each new part got recorded. Still, it was something. If nothing else, it gave me a further glimpse into the possibilities.

Once I had a few record tests behind me, I decided to tackle Wonderous Stories by Yes. This recording had six parts: percussion, synth bass, a “lead vocal” track, synth solo track, rhythm guitar, and lead guitar.

If you want to know what this song is actually supposed to sound like, check it out here. Mine sounds about one one-thousandth as good, but then again, I had about 1/1,000th of the experience and had invested about 1/100,000th as much on equipment.

I have to tell you, it’s weird sharing this stuff now. Not just because it’s so old, but because this stuff was never really meant to be heard by other human beings. No, other human beings were supposed to hear well-crafted, impeccably-recorded, high quality productions.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t about to happen any time soon. On the upside, though, I was about to get a real multi-track recorder.