I’ve heard it said that all good art either takes you to a new place or it takes you to a familiar place and makes you see it in a new way. Maybe the ambitious listener’s response to conventional recording technique, as this point, is, “I’ve been here before,” and so the experience is less dramatic.

Well, I don’t know. There’s a whole world out there that proves my tastes wrong because those [conventional] records are the ones that sell the biggest numbers. Like Celine Dion... Those records and that kind of recording, you know.

Well, perhaps there’s comfort to be found in going to those familiar old places. Perhaps that’s what those listeners want.

I guess so. There is a reason, I just don’t hear it.

So when Kiko was done, I’m sure you could see that there’d been a big leap forward in the sound of the band [Los Lobos] and, it seems, your signature approach as an engineer. How did it feel when that record was done?

Well, good. Because the thing is we made some good friendships on that record. We’d worked with David [Hidalgo] before on a song on an earlier record. And also he’d done overdubs on something else Mitchell had done. So we knew him a little bit. But this was like... we just sort of bonded. And we’ve stayed that way ever since.

That’s evident in your work with Latin Playboys.

Yeah, David and Louie made us honorary members, because you know we didn’t really play anything on the records. They’re really all David Hidalgo and then Louie wrote all the lyrics and did some singing. And did some playing, but most of it is David. Mitchell was responsible for getting the tape and playing it for me and saying, “Let’s take this to Lenny [Waronker] over at Warner Brothers and see what he says.” He [Waronker] was, like, our only friend in the music business. And he said, “Let’s put it out as a record.” And they did. And at that point David said, “Let’s have a band. You guys have to be in the band. It’s just got to be us.” Which was great. I still can’t believe it. I’m so happy to be a Latin Playboy. [laughs] So some friendships were made there and we’ve made all these records since. And it’s been great every time.

And so was much of the work that followed soon afterward a result of Los Lobos recommending you; was it people responding to Kiko?

Yes, right.

And people were saying what? This is exciting stuff, this is a sonic territory I want to explore?

Yeah, absolutely. We got work from that. And we started isolating, defining ourselves in that way. But you know, the kinds of sounds we liked - crunchy sounds... somewhere between Tom Waits and the slick side, high contrast - started getting more fashionable. I always thought it was because of rap and hip-hop coming up. People started using pretty funky old records (for sampling). And it just broke the margin for sonics. And suddenly there was so much more that was acceptable to record companies. I couldn’t get arrested in the ‘80s to mix anything. Even the Crowded House stuff was mixed by [Bob] Clearmountain.

How are things different now that you’re working independently of Mitchell and in the “producer” role?

It’s different. I’m an engineer, basically. There are different kinds of producers and there’s room for all of them. Different artists require different things. I think I’m best with bands who have a strong identity and a strong sense of themselves - who are good songwriters and good arrangers. I can help. I can sometimes spark a somewhat lackluster arrangement, but I’m not an arranger. If a song’s not working, I can try to tinker with it, but it doesn’t come naturally. Unlike Mitchell who can see the flaw in a song and a structure and say, “Here’s 3 different options.” For me, it’s a matter of creating the atmosphere that the music’s going to live in. With arrangement, my strength is with mute buttons. I love to capture the spontaneity on tape and then just give me mix time and I can mute for days.

And then there’s the non-technical side. Sounds are important, but there’s also the social aspect; how to get the most out of people. As producer you must have to take greater responsibility for that as well.

Yeah. It’s really just in the last year and a half that I’ve started to produce people I don’t know. People I sometimes meet on the day of the session, almost. With Pearl Jam, I’d met them in New Zealand and hung out with them for a day or two and knew I liked them as people. And so I knew we could work together. But it’s still different because I’m used to working with people over time. That’s where it’s at. I miss that, sometimes: developing with somebody. It’s great to do 3 or 4 records with somebody. It seemed to happen a lot in the ‘60s - where you’d grow with an artist. Doesn’t always work, but it certainly makes it fun and comfortable in the studio.

You get to be the 5th Beatle.

[laughs] Right. It’s happening less and less though. Oddly enough I now get more offers to mix than anything else. Which is crazy because, like I said, in the ‘80s and early ‘90s I wasn’t allowed to touch it. I’ve done some mixes more recently where I’ve really restrained myself, conscious not to get too “out.” Like a single’s mix where I can take it out a little and not offend anybody. And I’ve turned it in and they say, “It sounds a little conservative.” And I go, “Man, times have changed.” [laughs]

I can’t help but think that you’ve played a pretty big part in that evolution. I think the records you’ve made throughout this decade have contributed to the opening of a lot of ears.

I guess it’s hard for me to see that because it doesn’t seem like that many people heard those records. Mitchell and I have a running joke, that we should call our production company “Kiss of Death Productions”.

[Laughs] Because our sales figures are pretty dismal. But I’ve loved the records we’ve made. And I actually think that the records we make together are the most fun to do because the weight is distributed. And I can actually sit and listen to the music in another way. When I’m producing and engineering... I think this record [Pearl Jam] has been the hardest for me. Because it’s in a new studio [Litho], which is not ideal. It’s a good studio - I wish I had a studio like that. But for me it takes a long time to learn a studio and how it sounds. So producing and thinking about the sounds and engineering... I’m finding it hard to juggle. If I was at the Sound Factory [Blake’s main haunt] I could be on the phone while patching something in. So it’s a little more weight. So when I’m working with Mitchell it’s like a vacation. And I love the tempo and how we work. It’s kind of a lazy approach. [laughs] But it’s really fun. Every day you feel like coming into the studio. You wake up and you go, “Oh, I’ve got an idea. Let’s go do it.”

When you say “lazy,” is that because you’re just “playing?”

No, it’s actually lazy. It’s an eight hour day. But in that eight hours there’s probably 2 1/2 or 3 hours of breaks. [laughs] We just sit and eat and talk. Which is also a huge part of the process. With Los Lobos it’s just ridiculous, but it’s so much fun. By the time we’ve finished dinner everybody’s kinda like, “Aw, let’s play.” They get up there, play through a few takes, usually the first one’s the best. As we listen to some playback, Louie (Perez) is finishing with lyrics on his computer.

He’s actually writing the lyrics in the studio?

[laughs] Yeah, he’s got a computer in there, music playing from the other room. He gives it to Dave [Hidalgo] who sits there with 2 or 3 passes and says “Okay, let’s try it.” I put up the mic and, I kid you not, 50% of the time he goes out and sings it and it’s the vocal. First time. And then we do a couple of backgrounds or a keyboard... and it’s done. And we’re out by nine.

When you say people are so attracted to the Latin Playboys records I suspect that the spontaneity is part of what they’re responding to. When you deconstruct it, a particular cool sound is no substitute for chemistry and fun. The vibe infects every aspect of what goes to tape.

I think so. I’d agree with that. And that’s been my thing - I just want to have a good time. Everybody wants hits, and everybody wants to be successful and have lots of money. But I can’t think that way. And I don’t work with the kind of artist who thinks that way anyhow. You just have to go with what you really love, what you really like about music, and hope it clicks. It can’t be the other way around, for me. There are people out there who can do that, who are really good at it. More power to ‘em. I love TLC and they’re writing hits. And they’re producers.... it’s amazing. I’m stuck on that record. But my head just doesn’t think that way. I can listen to it and love it, but when I’m in the studio, I just can’t do that.