The Death Of Steve Albini

And the legacy of a life spent making things.

Photo by National Public Radio

Producer, and musician Steve Albini died this week of a heart attack at age 61. Albini played in the punk outfits Big Black and Shellac throughout his life, but it was his engineering and producing skills that made him a household name in the world of indie rock.

Although Albini worked with critically and commercially successful acts like Nirvana, The Pixies, and PJ Harvey, he eschewed the moniker of producer. Albini believed his role was to capture what the band brought to the studio. In many ways, he saw himself more as an archivist than artist in his role as producer, famously even forgoing his right to points on hit records like Nirvana’s LP, In Utero which would have netted him huge dividends.

In his more than four decades behind the mixing desk, Albini contributed to hundreds of albums. His impact on the entire genre of indie rock is intensely profound. Just the number of great bands to come through his Electrical Audio studio in Chicago are a living testament to his work.

In the wake of Albini’s sudden passing at a relatively young age, there will be myriad tributes and plaudits, all very well deserved. Those tributes are likely to focus specifically on the music that Albini was deeply involved with. With this remembrance, I’d like to look at the legacy of Albini’s work ethic as a testament to his art, and a life well lived.

What I will share I have gleaned from interviews and Albini’s social media presence. I did not personally know Steve Albini, nor did I ever have the pleasure to work with him. These are merely the observations and condolences of a distant admirer.

Photo by The Atlantic

Steve Albini wore a set of coveralls to work each day at his Chicago studio, Electrical Audio. For years, it was rare for Albini to even make a public appearance not in his coveralls. Some may have taken it as a hipster affectation. Others may have simply seen it as the quirk of an artist. It reminded me of the coveralls my Grandad would wear if he was off to weld a fence post or work on the old Harvester tractor. The coveralls went on when it was time to go to work.

To me those coveralls were an outward symbol of a dude who saw himself going to work each and every day. He was not a rockstar or producer to the famous. Sure, he was making records, and maybe even working with a band like Nirvana at the peak of their fame, but it was still work. Even if the work meant capturing great art, there was still a science and a process within the magic. Albini and his coveralls were the method and the science behind that magic.

Ernest Hemingway is alleged to have once said that he only worked when he was inspired, but that he became inspired each morning at 9:00 am. Essentially, Hemingway went to work and the words came because the work was done every single day. Inspiration wasn’t something to be caught in the wind on a lark. You went fishing for it each morning, rain or shine. Albini seemed to me to have the same approach to producing. Yes, there might be an art to the work, but it was still work.

Steve Albini is credited on hundreds of records. His resume is littered with many of the great acts of the indie rock era. He became an icon within certain circles, and also used his talents and expertise to share his knowledge of recording with new musicians and engineers.

This week when Steve Albini left this world terribly suddenly, he left behind thousands of fans, admirers, collaborators, students, and friends. He also left behind a mountain of great work, and a legacy of true craftsmanship. In a world where attention to detail and personal touches are ever decreasing, Steve Albini presented a way of working that was personal, emotional, technical, and beautiful.

That is a hell of a thing to leave behind. Rest well, sir. Thanks for the work.

Cheers,
Matty C