In a former life, Dubliner Garret Lee played guitar in the neo-punk band Compulsion. When they split, he signed to Howie B’s Pussyfoot Records, and steadily began to make a name for himself as Jacknife Lee – releasing the 1999 single ‘Cookies’, followed by his debut album ‘Muy Rico’ and latterly ‘Punk Rock High Roller’ in 2001.
Today, Jacknife is just as famous for bootlegging artists such as Eminem, Run DMC and Missy Elliot, and for remixing the likes of Pink, Christina Aguilera, Kasabian, and, most recently, Bono and Pavarotti…
Although he claims he’s still new to the world of production, he was responsible for Snow Patrol’s celebrated third album ‘Final Straw’ - and when Steve Lillywhite and U2 threw him into the mix on ‘How to Dismantle An Atomic Bomb’, he was ready and willing to make some big noise.
And he’s still got time to make his own music – his new release ‘Fear of Nothing’ is just out. U2.Com sent Brian Draper down to Jacknife’s studio deep in the English countryside to ask him what it was like to work with the world’s biggest band. It turned out to be such an interesting conversation that we’re publishing it in two parts – watch this space for Part II.
U2.com: Before you were asked to work with them, were you a U2 fan?
I was in and out of love from the beginning. I remember when their first single came out and Dave Fanning had the vote on his show – ‘What would the A-side be?’ Being from Dublin, they’re hard to avoid, especially if you’re in bands. They have a presence.
My wife is a big fan, and when we moved into our last place, we used to listen to ‘All That You Can’t Leave Behind’ while we were painting the house. I really got to like it. I reached a point where I missed that U2 sound. By the time this one came up, I was in love with them again.
U2.com: So how did you feel when you were asked to work with them?
I thought, “Shit, I can’t do this!” - I felt like I was out of my depth. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to be doing, because nobody told me. I didn’t know whether I was meant to come in and stir up shit and create a storm, or subtly work my way in. I chose the subtle approach…
U2.com: So, er, how did you find out what you were meant to be doing?
Just by doing stuff. It was pretty much a blank slate, and luckily U2 are very curious and open. I would have an idea, and they’d let me run with it.
It’s a very unusual way of working – really bizarre. It’s so fluid: there’s no beginning, middle or end. Obviously there’s an end when it’s over; but even then, I didn’t know what would be on the CD. I was doing a disco version of ‘All Because of You’, and it was really good. For a few days, we were very excited about it… It didn’t make it, but it was worth trying.
U2.com: Was there an overall plan for the sound?
It was strange: even though we were all coming from different areas - the band, Steve, me - we all seemed to know instinctively what needed to be done: follow on from the last record - but more of it - darting into different parts of ‘Achtung Baby’... Even though it wasn’t spoken of, that seemed to be what was happening.
At the end of the day, U2 make the final choice on everything. But they want to hear options. That’s your job: to provide them with options and encouragement and confidence.
U2.com: You said you felt out of your depth at the start. How do you cope, then, walking into a U2 studio and telling them honestly what you think?
The first conversation I had was with Bono; he was the only person there, and I can’t remember the name of the song, but he said, “What do you think?” and I had to tell him. If you don’t have anything to say, you shouldn’t be there.
I don’t have a huge amount of experience in production, but I know that I’m good at it. It is hard. Bono’s lyrics are very good, generally, and mine aren’t. And when you’re there to help someone be better…
It would have been terrible to have fucked up - not be sent home, but not be asked back - but I had nothing to lose, other than a certain amount of pride.
U2.com: Did you settle in quickly?
It takes a while to get used to what is a good take from someone. For instance, how good a drummer is Larry? I’ve heard him on records, and seen him live, but until you’re sitting there in a room watching him play, it takes a while to know whether it’s a good take for him, or a bad one.
I figured out that my role would have something to do with technology. Steve doesn’t work in that area, generally. They’ve always had people, whether it’s Eno, or whoever, who take them to another point. Picking me to work with them was a brave move on their part.
U2.com: What did they want you to bring to the party?
I didn’t ask. But I have an unusual way of working – by ripping things apart. It’s sort of the way they work, too. I guess they were looking for some kind of otherness to the music.
One of the first things I did was start playing live with them. They hadn’t played together for a while, so they set up in a room – we were doing Vertigo. We got a big racket going on, it was really noisy.
They’ve always been sonically curious and have done a lot of exploring, so my role was to help them with that. But it opened up a bit more. That seems to be the way they work, and they encourage it.
U2.com: So were they good to work with?
The band themselves are brilliant, in that they’ve been recording some of these songs since ‘96, and have an amazing knowledge of their performances. Adam would say, “I did a bass line that would be good for this part in France in November 96.” So someone would go to the safe and find the recording, and I’d take the bass line, and it would slot in. He was right.
Adam is quite brilliant. You don’t really know what he’s doing half of the time – he’s playing and you think, this is weird, it’s not working at all. Like, it’s very wrong. And then, he’ll pull this bizarre bass line out, and you’ll think, ‘Fucking hell, that’s great.’
Edge doesn’t actually play that much, and it’s so simple, but he has such a style, it’s so distinctive, that it’s quite amazing. He’s very curious, and carries a back-pack with CDs and notes. At the end of every week, we’d record a CD of that week’s work. If you’ve had four years of that, that’s a lot of CDs and versions. But he’d take a bit from one and stick it onto the chorus of another… It was quite amazing. Everything is kept. Every idea is used and leads into somewhere else.
People are mixing on top of each other’s mixes, too. It’s an amazing way of working. On ‘Crumbs…’ there are a few mixes on the final version. I mixed the start and the end; Flood the middle part; Steve did another mix somewhere. But it’s a lovely piece.
U2.com: Doesn’t it get confusing?
If you’re not used to it, it’s a scary process. When you’ve spent two or three months recording something, and then you don’t even know if you have anything…
U2.com: Is it hard to know when something is finished, then?
Only Edge knows when it’s finished. He’ll pore over mastered versions in a way that I haven’t seen anybody else do. He’d make a good scientist.
But it’s an odd thing with U2: the songs seem to ferment by themselves. You work on something for a few weeks and put it away – and I don’t know what happens, but there are chemical reactions within the music. When you pick it up again, it sounds different.