If I were to ask what Ray Charles, Eric Clapton, John Coltrane, and Dizzy Gillespie have in common, what would your answer be? “Well Cletus” you’d reply, “they’re all legendary musicians”. And you’d be right. They certainly are. But there’s another answer to that question as well. An answer that ties these names, and countless other legends of the industry together. Go to your CD collection. Pick out an album by The Drifters, Otis Redding, or better yet Rod Stewart’s 1978 classic Blondes Have More Fun. While you’re grooving to Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?, scan the credits of the album. You’ll find the name Tom Dowd. As both a producer and engineer, Dowd revolutionised studio recording. His contribution to music history is no less significant then any of the names listed above. Tom Dowd and the Language of Music is a feature-length documentary tracking the life of Dowd and the music he helped create.
As an engineer, Dowd’s skill was based in a sound knowledge of mathematics and physics. Fresh out of high school, he’d just begun study at university when called for his military service. Selected to work on the Manhattan project, researching the development of the atomic bomb, Dowd was a part of team breaking new ground in science. This documentary tracks how a young man, set to become a nuclear physicist research specialist, ended up as one of music production’s greatest innovators and pioneers in multi track recording.
It is the energy of Dowd, and the sheer passion of the words spoken about him, that make The Language of Music such vital viewing. Dowd speaks with a contagious enthusiasm, introducing locations like a tourgide of a city. Visually, director Mark Moorman matches the vibrancy of Dowd’s words – contemporary locations are presented with rich and warm colours, and, for the moments in which Dowd speaks nostalgically for times of the past, Moorman shifts to black and white, at times sharing in the journey through musical history by re-enacting scenes that are being described. Dowd’s words are complimented by a series of interviews with a list of music’s all-time greats. Their admiration and respect for Dowd is clear. Eric Clapton speaks of how when “riddled with self doubt” over his own musical ability, he looked up to Dowd as a father figure. Ray Charles, as entertaining as ever, embraces Dowd like an old friend.
The film has an infectious rhythm, fuelled by a soundtrack of so many funk, rock, and soul classics. Poison Ivy, Stand By Me, Respect and Sunshine of Your Love are just small selection of tracks that provide a musical backdrop to the story that unfolds. We hear anecdotes of how these classic songs originate. Dowd describes how a trip to Memphis to fix recording equipment resulted in recording a timeless hit. Arriving to repair the fault, he found Booker T & the MGs jamming in the studio. After fixing the problem, Dowd hits the record button, unknown to the group. When they finish, he hits play, and they meet for the first time. Moments later Rufus Thomas walks in, saying as Dowd mimmicks: “Man, I knew somethin’ must have been happenin, I was comin home from a church, and all the cars are here”. Thomas has a song he wanted them to hear – Walking the Dog. Dowd goes back to New York with the record under his arm.
So whilst the film is in part a celebration of the contribution Dowd provided the industry, it also very much a celebration of the music he loved. In one telling scene, Dowd sits at the mixing desk and isolates, track by track, the recording of Layla by Derek and the Dominos. Critics may argue that this scene offers little insight into the recording session, as Dowd’s descriptions mention little of the process or techniques used to capture the classic track. His words, however, are indicative of the enthusiasm and passion he brought to his job. He describes the work of Eric Clapton and Dwayne Allman with admiration and respect. “It’s just beautiful” he states as he hears the of the duelling guitar licks in isolation, adding “those are notes that are not on the instrument”. The magic of the track does not lie within its production – “It’s not in a knob, it’s not how loud they play – it’s touch” he states, “It’s in the tips of their fingers”. As Dowd slides the volume up, introducing each instrument, you see his face light up. His reaction is indicative of the passion and love for music he holds and is the reason why he earned the respect of, and worked with so many greats.
A fitting tribute to a legend of the industry.
After following the festival circuit in 2003, Tom Dowd and the Language of Music is now available on DVD. For those who’ve seen the film before, looking for something a little special to entice a return visit, the disc also includes a behind the scenes “Making of” segment, deleted scenes, and a series of extended interviews. The interviews cover a broad range of topics, with Dowd describing early recoding techniques developed by Edison, Tom’s only daughter speaking about how she was raised around the likes of Clapton, Stewart and The Allman Brothers, and Ray Charles discussing his training in classical piano during school – adding with a cheeky grin that he angered his teachers by adding his own parts in.
Photo credit: “Production Still of Recording Studio Re-enactment” by Terry Townsend
