There is Hope For Us

Local producer/sound engineer Tim "Hope" Kirk is one of the most sought after in the region.

First things first, Tim Hope isn't his real name. It's Tim Kirk. I didn't know that and I've known Tim for five years. I found out when I interviewed local band La Bianca on The Local Zone about their 2006 release "Slow Weaning of the Lullaby" and inquired about Tim Kirk, the album's producer. He's always been Tim Hope to me. Everyone has always referred to him as Tim Hope.

And his band's name was False Hope so it all made sense. Right? I mean, rock is full of people who name bands after themselves: Dokken. Van Halen. Dio. The Band. Who was I to question which was the chicken and which the egg? It's not like everyone in the band was named Hope too (see The Ramones). Hell, Greg Kihn not only named his band after himself (you guessed it, the Greg Kihn Band) but most of his albums too (Next of Kihn, Kihnspiracy, and of course, Rock Kihn Roll).

So with opportunity in hand I asked him about the name. His answer was straightforward enough; he made it up. Ok, not exactly. It stemmed from the tradition in hard-core music of referring to people in a band by using their name and part of the band name. He referenced Jason Ages of 7Ages. I asked if Cher counted (it didn't). So there it is, the first mystery of Tim Kirk solved, on with the story.

In short, Tim was born between 20 and 30 years ago in the eastern portion of the United States. Tim began his musical career on classical piano and organ performing with classical symphonies (including a performance at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.) in addition to percussion in jazz ensembles. He even garnered music scholarships for piano. From there he leapt into the vastly different realm of hardcore and punk and eventually to his "true love"—metal.

There is nothing unusual about his growth as a sound engineer. As with many recording engineers, he is a multiinstrumentalist with a broad knowledge of music who started recording self projects like False Hope, messing around with the acoustics and learning the tricks of multitrack recording.

Like most, he first began recording using a four-track, then upgraded to an eight track, with the eventual migration to the computer and recording aids such as ProTools. In recent years Tim took the leap and began converting his personal residence into a recording studio. Naming it Q Studios after his cat, not Quincy Jones (though I am sure Tim has a "Thriller" in him somewhere), Tim began getting requests for services even before he was fully "open for business". Tim's success in recent years, especially within the metal and punk communities, can be mostly attributed to word of mouth (and his affordable rates don't hurt either, especially with fledgling bands strapped for cash but full of promise). As a result of his growing reputation, business too has grown stronger. So much so that he finally started a web page for his company, Kirk Audio (www.kirk-audio. com). This was necessary in order to accommodate a deluge of inquiries coming from bands, both known and unknown to him (In addition to many bands calling on him, Tim has received requests from European metal labels to record some of their American acts). Every weekend he has a recording session scheduled and when he is not recording, lately he has been busy mastering the "Five-Four-Whoa" compilation, a twenty track compilation featuring local bands which will also serve as debut release for the newly formed, locally based label Chimney Sweep Records. Despite all this Tim has recently gone back to his day job as a computer engineer to help fund some of the improvements to his studio/house.

With the advent of Chimney Sweep records taking up where Blacksburg's Squealer Records left off (deceased 2006) and the New River and Roanoke Valleys blooming with a generation of ripe new talent in search of someone who can help them hone their sound, Tim Kirk's Q Studio is primed to be the go-to place to record for local bands, putting him in a position to become a premiere producer/recorder of local music for the future sounds coming out of this area (and beyond).

Imagine Blacksburg's own Phil Spector (but with much straighter hair and less firearms) or a more dynamic, interactive Steve Albini (interactive in that Tim actually produces a record and not just records it) or perhaps a less metaphysical Rick Rubin. He takes the time to carefully mic each instrument to insure the best results rather than just throw down a few microphones and wish for the best.

He patiently and deliberately mixes the recording dynamically with each track its own very important piece in the puzzle instead of just another sound that goes on the record. One of those rare talents that actually can see "the big picture", and he reaches it by pursuing it tediously, piece by piece. Much like Montel, Tim cares, and the extreme level of care and time he takes with each project is what attracts bands to his studio. He helps bands find their sound not only through discussing the bands' wants and desires, but through action, focusing on their strengths and improving upon their weaknesses and then adding a bit of his own personal magic.

You can hear it in some of the music he has produced, from solo pianists to metal acts like False Hope, Inter Arma or Corinthian Order to post rock ambient "we really don't know what we are yet" bands such as La Bianca that involve layers upon layers of texture and sound. Be it the distinct difference between drumming doom metal versus punk, or the slight nuances in tone and effect that can completely alter a band's sound, Hope's reputation as a musical guru is growing. I recently watched him display this uncanny prowess when he played me a recording of a guy snorting like a pig. By the time he was done with processing the sounds through various tweeks and turns he had transformed that snort into what could've passed for "lyrics". It could have been Norwegian death chants for all I knew, anything but a pig snort.

I am a cynic by nature (or as a result of age) and because Tim is working in an industry where the almighty dollar reigns supreme, I asked him about the money. Did he garner any special deals with the bands or labels? Did he get residuals or was it a one time fee? Has he gotten the raw end from a label? His response was something unheard of in the music industry these days. He didn't care about the money, it was about the music. He was simply stoked to have his name on the album jacket. And to hear him say it you knew it was true. He wasn't playing up to some idealistic pedestal nor was he being ironic. Like his dedication to capturing the full potential of a band, it was sincerity in its truest form.