Water Music began in 1980 as a private studio for Rob Grenoble and his band CRIES. That privacy lasted at least a week when as a favor to Maxwell's owner Steve Fallon, recording was commenced on a solo album by Chris Stamey. The record was cut with Chris, Scott Litt and Rob working on a 16 channel EV/Tapco PA mixer and a Scully ½” 4 track with one Urei 1176 compressor.

The studio grew and grew in that band loft at 201 Grand St. The building had a lot of personality: high ceilings, enormous glass block windows, and a benign tolerance on the part of the neighbors as long as the bands kept buying sausage sandwiches from Ve rducci's and ordering out from Leo's Grandevous. It was definitely a neighborhood thing.

The old Water Music was the place where Yo La Tengo, Freedy Johnston, the Feelies, Chris Stamey and Peter Holsapple, Scruffy the Cat, Golden Paliminos, Original Sins, and Madder Rose created all that great music. The list goes on: Matthew Sweet, Syd Straw , Marshall Crenshaw, the dBs, Mitch Easter, Bob Mould, Alex Chilton, Kevin Salem, Overkill, many more.

In the summer of 1991, Rob was producing a band called Sweet Lizard Illtet for Warner Bros. They kept running out of space, so Rob called legendary studio designer George Augspurger and asked him if he might have time to do a humble, little studio in Hobo ken. George was delighted, liked the site that had been chosen, and the concept began to unfold in the form of a 3 way dialog between George, Rob, and Ken McKim of Bearsville Studios. The residences, garden, Big Room, and the Inferno were all hammered out in those initial conversations. Studio builder/designer Mark Russell joined the team in the summer of 1992 and the walls went up.

It's been a lot of fun ever since: Girls Vs. Boys, Pavement, Shudder to Think, Triple Fast Action, Skeleton Key, Chavez, Screaming Headless Torsos, Drag Mules, Jawbox, Chainsaw Kittens and Government Mule. Looking at the whole puzzle, it would be hard to say which piece has made the most difference. A studio is, after all, an additive process. Many think it's the residences that really make it. Residential albums are more fun and everybody lets loose once and a while (except the producer, of course). Ther e was the time a band got drunk on red wine and ended up naked at 4 am in the fluffer, an old piece of machinery that our insurance company made us get rid of. It rained all night and Hoboken flooded. When they woke up, the rest of the jug of wine was flo ating around in the front yard.

Now that's hair of the dog! All I can tell you is that I get my ears scratched around here a lot more than at the old place!