You must simply have Brothers in Arms on Compact Disc’

Now, as a result of worldwide research and close observation, I am able to bring you a formula for almost instant success as a sound designer, which, if followed closely, will take you to places you never thought possible. This formula is free, given to you out of the kindness of my heart, and with no thought of reward. All I ask is for one percent of your earnings over the next five years, before tax, as a gesture from how grateful you are. Agreed? Then read on, and discover the easy way to fame and fortune.

            Nothing, as they say, is for nothing. First you will have to spend in order to profit, although the initial outlay is only a few hundred pounds. (Government grants exist for this sort of thing, so you may be able to con your local Job Centre into buying the really expensive bits, and calling it an Enterprise Allowance.)

            First on your list of purchases should be a briefcase. Not just any old Samsonite job, but a custom-built case from one of the major flight-case manufacturers. This is essential if anyone is going to take you at all seriously. Note that an aluminium photographer's case will not suffice. People will simply think that you are a photographer, or worse still, a lighting designer, and that would never do. The case should be dark green or cerise, with all the edging and cornering palaver found on the average heavy-duty flight case, and should come with a discreet designer label saying Packhorse or C.P. Cases or Oakleigh Productions. It should weigh a ton, and be large enough to carry the rest of your purchases, and a few clothes and toiletry items for those last minute dashes to the West Indies.

            Next comes the most expensive item on the list, a portable compact disc player. Preferably, you should purchase one of the earlier portables, as these sound rather like a reasonable quality cassette machine, and shouldn't burden you with the problem of actually having to listen to decent sound.

            You should now start to build up a library of CDs. Quite frankly, it doesn't matter two hoots what you choose to listen to your spare time, but there are a number of discs that you simply must have in your portable flight case for public consumption. These are as follows: Brothers in Arms, by Dire Straits, Grace Jones Live, anything by Ricky Lee Jones, and something involving Trevor Pinnock. A good selection of offerings from the esoteric labels like Nimbus or Windham Hill is also a good idea, but you shouldn’t actually ever have to play them, they are just for show.

            Your next investment is one of time, rather than money, for you must learn the jargon of your chosen profession. This is very difficult to set out, as it is constantly changing, although by learning a few basics, you will soon be assimilated into that sort of circles where, by the simple expedient of keeping your ears open and your mouth closed, you will pick up the current usage. Most of the sound designer's jargon revolves around letters and numbers, and here are a few to be going on with. UPA1, USW, KMR82, AMS, JBL, AKG, U87, PCMF1, DDA, SSL, 451, 414, 4038 (A good one that), 456, 911, (Warning, can be applied to a type of car as well as a type of tape. Make sure you have grasped the correct conversational drift.), D190 (Only ever in jest.), SM58, V 500, A80, PR99, B77, SPX90 (Current buzzword, but fast becoming passé), DC300A, etcetera, etcetera.

            It is quite possible to have a meaningful conversation simply using letters and numbers, and it is also possible to introduce letter and number combinations that you have made up on the spur of the moment, or misheard in other conversations. As everyone else will also be doing this, and will any case be listening to themselves, rather than to you, you will hardly ever be caught out.

            As well as the number and letters, you would be well advised to take in a few well-chosen phrases to add to your vocabulary. It is best to stick to enigmatic generalisations, and trivial specifics, such as: “I went to see Time/Phantom/Les Miserables/Cats/Starlight, and the sound was really, well you know, really itching to go and … you know?” or “I went to see Bowie/Simply Red/Dire Straits/The LSO/Me and My Girl, and the sound was absolutely … well, you know, absolutely amazing. All the way through, I just kept thinking … yeah, you know?” Nine times out of ten you will find that the person you are talking to agrees with you in exactly the same terms. The specific trivia is a bit harder, and I can do no more than quote a supreme piece of unassailable bullshit that I heard issuing from the lips of someone whose badge announced him to be a Radio Three producer.

            I was attending a demonstration of a new loudspeaker, at a Hi-Fi show, and during part of the demonstration, which consisted of a CD of Trevor Pinnock playing the harpsichord, being reproduced at window-shattering levels, the following (shouted) exchange took place. Demonstrator: “Well, what do you thing?” BBC Producer: (screaming at the top of his voice) “One yearns for that extra 1 dB at 12K.” The demonstrator nodded sadly, and they turned up the wick another notch. I am convinced that this phrase was the only one that the producer knew, and that he found it invaluable in every circumstance, when called upon for an opinion.

            In order for the maximum impact to be created, these phrases need to be accompanied by the correct gestures, such as shrugs, half-closed eyes, a superior tilt of the head, and a knowing sideways glance. Practice looking supercilious, as you can often get away with not saying anything if you can produce a look that says “You complete and utter fraud. Your ears are obviously made of the coarsest cloth, your musical appreciation is nil, and your opinions are worthless. Kindly do not sully my space with your continued presence, you appalling guttersnipe.”

            This look can be found and studied in a number of places, most commonly on the faces of sound men in the large subsidised companies, and lately on the faces of West End chief electricians who have watched countless musicals come and go, and have decided that, through a process of osmosis, they now know it all.

            So far, so good. You should be getting the hang of things by now, and you should be well on the way to becoming a respected sound designer. Note that you have not actually done any work yet, but that your reputation is entirely based on your briefcase, your CD player, and your limited but expanding vocabulary.

            Let us assume that someone has been sufficiently impressed by your accoutrements, and that they ask you to show for them. Don't panic, just ring of one of the larger hire companies and let the guys specify the show for you. You: “Hi, I’m doing ‘ID!’ for Triple Furnace, there’s a 20 piece band and 17 in the cast …” Hire Manager: “O.K., well I expect you’ll want …” there then follows a long list of numbers, followed by another number which is the hire price.