Interview Bob Ferbrache, producer extraordinaire

Anyone who has spent time listening to Denver’s recorded musical output over the last 25 years has a high likelihood of being familiar with the work of Bob Ferbrache. He is the chief sonic architect of what is both lovingly and derisively referred to as “the Denver sound,” an aesthetic tag that hangs on the mantle of bands like 16 Horsepower, Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, and others. In his roles as recording engineer, producer, mastering engineer, and musician, Ferbrache’s aesthetic sensibilities are heavily infused into the Denver music scene. His résumé is long and storied, starting with his early days working for Chuck Morris and Barry Fey at Ebbets Field in the 1970s, and includes connections to Denver bands such as Frantix, Foreskin 500, Human Head Transplant, Tarantella, The Czars, Ian Cooke, and Paper Bird, to name a few.

Known for having a perfectionists’ ear, an acerbic wit, and a sweet collection of track suits and fanny packs, Ferbrache continues to help Denver bands sound their best, tirelessly pursuing studio perfection. Over the last year, he has worked on albums by Wovenhand, Blood Axis, Ian O’Dougherty, Git Some, and Munly And The Lupercalians. He is currently playing pedal steel guitar with Slim Cessna’s Auto Club—who are playing an in-store at Twist & Shout Records on Friday, March 11, and at The Gothic Theater on Saturday, March 12—and produced the band’s latest album, Unentitled, which was released earlier this month on Alternative Tentacles. Ferbrache recently sat down with A.V. Club to discuss the albums and the bands that shaped the studio styling of one of Denver’s best producers. 

The A.V. Club: I’m hoping to talk to you a little bit about things that inspire you outside the spectrum of the Denver music scene, and what may inform the aesthetic decisions you make on these records that have come to be known as indicative of “the Denver sound.”

Bob Ferbrache: First and foremost, I was into progressive music and European folk music in the ’70s, bands like Steeleye Span, Fairport Convention, King Crimson, and Pink Floyd. I think, fundamentally, it’s like, that shitty show you played last night, that’s forgotten about the next day. I mean, it may have been a fantastic show, but you listen to a recording, and it’s sort of out of tune, sort of out of time, sort of forgettable. But in the moment, it was fantastic. People talk about having seen these shows, and how they may have seen a fantastic live band, but it’s just hearsay, it’s forgotten about the next day. The albums are forever. That’s the representation that I feel strongly about. These albums seemed to be recorded so well with the technology they had.

Gentle Giant: “Knots”


AVC: Aesthetically, what was it about those progressive rock records that you liked?

BF: The production of the records—just the expansive production like you heard on the Yes records, on the Gentle Giant records. All of those albums had a complete aesthetic, and that’s what I would love to hear in music. Listen to Who’s Next—listen to how fucking great that sounds to this day. The first Doors album was done in 1967—listen to how fantastic it sounds. It was just done on an eight-track. Regardless of the medium or the content, the tones survive. With ABBA, even, you have this music that is really moody and infectious. The production is well constructed and very layered. When I tired of ’80s music, I found myself back into the music of ABBA and The Carpenters, drawn to the songwriting and the performances.

ABBA: “Knowing Me, Knowing You”


AVC: When you started recording bands, was there a template you used, as far as production went? Were there bands that you were listening to at the time who you wanted your records to sound like?

BF: Yeah. When I heard Pornography, by The Cure, I could somehow listen to the music and dissect it and hear something in that album, and I thought it was so against the grain of modern structure. Even the earliest Talking Heads albums, you can hear this really defined example of how simple it was and how very complex at the same time. With The Cure, it was just acoustic guitar, bass, drums, and singing. Pornography was so trashy and so produced at the same time. The technology finally came around, even with four-track cassettes. I’d been recording with cassettes for awhile—live recordings, bootlegs, demo tapes—and I’d learned how to get really hot levels and do cassettes right.

The Cure: “The Hanging Garden”

AVC: Who were you recording at the time?

BF: My band Soul Merchants really concentrated on those ideas. We used a four-track, and it sounded really dense. When I listened to The Cure, it really enabled me, because it was so DIY, but I was still interested in those sounds from the records of the ’70s—those massive productions that were beautiful sounding, like classical music. Despite the fact that all of the new wave stuff and punk stuff was a rejection of that, those were the records that I liked, and I’ve always used a similar approach.

Talking Heads: “Psycho Killer”