The Technical Interface

By the mid-90s, George Michael’s process had become deeply internal. He wasn't just the singer; he was playing the majority of the instruments and producing every nuance. My role was to provide the "diplomacy" between his vision and the equipment. As I told Sound on Sound at the time, "You have to be the bridge. If the producer has an idea, you make it work instantly so the creativity doesn't stall."

The RADAR Revolution

We began the sessions at SARM West on a Mitsubishi 32-track, but the machine was temperamental. I suggested we trial the Otari RADAR—one of the first professional hard-disk recorders. The difference in sonic transparency was immediate. George was so impressed he ordered two.

This changed everything. Because it was non-linear, we could fly choruses, experiment with arrangements, and maintain a "working mix" that evolved every single day. There was no "mixing stage"—the record was mixed as it was written.

The Solo Vocal Sessions

One of the most unique aspects of Older was the vocal recording. George was incredibly private about his process. To facilitate this, I set up the RADAR remote on a stand next to his microphone in the live room. I would get the levels set, then leave him alone. He would drop himself in and out of takes, punching in on syllables or phrases until he was satisfied. My job was to ensure the signal path was pristine so that every breath was captured with absolute intimacy.

Happy Accidents & The ‘Older’ Sound

The sound of the album came from a mix of high-end outboard gear and occasional "mistakes." On the track "It Doesn’t Really Matter," an incorrectly set compressor created a pumping effect on the vocal. Instead of fixing it, we leaned into it. George loved the urgency it added.

The Legacy

Working on Older wasn't just about engineering; it was about patience. We spent nearly a year in SARM West Studio Two, crafting a sound that was expensive, soulful, and timeless. It taught me that the best engineering is the kind that the artist—and the listener—never notices.