Over the years the rigid demarcation of roles in the composing, performing and recording processes has become considerably diffused, with the writer often being the artist, and occasionally taking on the role of the engineer or producer. Somewhere in the middle of all this came the arranger's hey-day.

The names of Nelson Riddle or Burt Bacharach became selling points in themselves when attached to arranging credits, and more recently, Paul Buckmaster's specialist string arrangements to some of Elton John's most successful recordings are worthy of acclaim.

To an extent the craft of the arranger has become something of a lost skill. Demands have changed and many of the outlets previously available to learn the craft have disappeared.

In the purest sense, arrangement lies somewhere between composing and producing. One immediately thinks of lush string arrangements of simple tunes, or dynamic brass interjections. However, good arrangement is simply giving the right part to the right instrument, and a section with just clave and cowbell can be every bit as effective an arrangement as a velvety Mantovani string passage.

In the modern context of studio productions the 'right instrument' is often replaced by the 'right sound'. Although it appears obvious it's amazing how many people do not give enough thought to the important link between the part to be played and the sound used to play it. The sound then has to fit into the rest of the arrangement. How many recordings have we all heard, particularly demos, where the entire instrumentation appears to have been squeezed into a handful of hertz somewhere in the middle between mud and cotton wool?

Each part has to complement all the other parts and not steal from them, although often the most apparently uncomplimentary part will prove right and be a vital addition to the arrangement.

One of the great joys of arranging to tape is discovering the often mysterious relationship between the various parts. I remember struggling with a particular track last year. I worked on it on and off for a period of two months, putting in, taking out, writing new drum patterns, and experimenting with new sounds and harmonies. I could find nothing wrong in theory, but it just sounded drab and lifeless. Much hair was torn out over those months.

Then in desperation I turned to my trusty DX7, a source of miracles for many people since it first arrived on the scene. Ten minutes of tinkering threw forth a germ of an idea which seemed to breath some life into the song, which I had previously liked, but which was now boring me to tears.

The simplest line appeared, which galvanised the drum part, the bass part, the previously laboured guitar parts and the various other hitherto isolated and unsympathetic contributions to the track..

One of the best exponents of making a lot sound like a little are the Thompson Twins. Listening to some of the tracks on Quick Step and Side Kick in particular, can draw attention to the ability of the band and producer Alex Sadkin to come up with the right part and put it in the right place with the right sound.

Also, the extent to which the instrumental backing imposes on the overall sound of the record changes with fashion. In Merseybeat or punk days it just provided a rhythmic or harmonic backing, but to take the example of the Thompson Twins again, the arrangement here makes a melodic contribution, working closely with the voice.

Do it Yourself

Nowadays it's hard to isolate the function of an arranger, and the role once performed by him is often now recognised as the job of the composer, musician, or producer. A typical Trevor Horn production is as instantly recognisable as was a Nelson Riddle arrangement.

So how can a home studio enthusiast, who after all has often taken on the role of arranger, as well as engineer and producer, develop his skills?

The first thing to remember is that five right parts are invariably better than 20 wrong parts. If you find you're tending to overdub with the intention of covering something up, or reverting to the 'it'll be alright with a touch of reverb' school of thought, there's probably something fundamentally wrong.

You might have the right part but the wrong sound, or vice versa, and should remain flexible enough to make even the most radical change (such as substituting a koto for a trumpet for example).

Drums

Most people will begin, not surprisingly, with drums. If there's a facility to lay a time code from a drum machine then it's a great advantage to do so. Of course on 4-track machines, the disadvantage of losing a track to code may outweigh the advantages gained, but on eight or more tracks, it gives you the flexibility to change any part of the arrangement at anytime. Before the arrival of sync tracks, whatever the drum part was on the first take stayed for the remainder of the session.

Once the code is down you might choose to put down one track of drums, as a guide, and depending on the capabilities of your console, leave the full arrangement until the mixdown stage, running the machine live off the code and direct to your mastering machine.

There are three advantages of using this method: the drum part can be altered at any stage as easily as any other part, to meet the direction which the track is taking the quality of the drum sound will not deteriorate through frequent passing over the heads; and thirdly, there will be six tracks available (on an 8-track machine) even after your working drum 1 track has been laid.

Different producers have different attitudes to guide parts. Some prefer to have as much 'real' material on tape as possible, including any effects which are to be used. However, some almost fill a multitrack with guide parts, gradually replacing sounds and melodies, and moulding the finished track from within an approximate framework.

There are advantages and disadvantages in both approaches although using the second method it can become difficult to gauge progress.

Another aspect of arranging often neglected concerns hi-hats. I've frequently come across the most imaginative of bass and snare drum patterns, cleverly punctuated by tom tom and percussion additions, but to negate any groove or syncopation achieved, an unimaginative hi-hat pattern of 16, eight or four in the bar is used continuously.

The hi-hat can dictate the feel of the entire drum part, you just have to listen to Stewart Copeland of the Police to understand that. Equally, an unimaginative part can destroy the good work of the rest of the kit.

Bass

Bass parts usually follow drum parts and instantly we encounter another major hurdle. Good bass parts always seem to be the hardest thing to write, either because they are an afterthought in the composing process, or are slotted into the recording with rather more to hang on to rhythmically than harmonically.

I'm sure I was not alone in marvelling at the brilliant simplicity of the bass parts on Michael Jackson's Thriller, particularly on the title track and 'Billie Jean'.

Sting, too, is a master of the efficient bass line. The 6-note line in 'Walking on the Moon' is again the perfect foil to the drum, guitar and vocal arrangement.

With the track sounding somewhat skeletal, the inexperienced arranger may well call for some block keyboard. A Juno-type of neutral string sound might be found, and all the remaining gaps and air pockets in the track will be plugged by analogue polyfilla.

This has often been the beginning of the end, and as an engineer I have frequently been asked why at this point the track is sounding 'stodgy.' Block chords have their uses, and in most recordings some form of block chord work is used. However, it shouldn't be regarded as the natural filling stage after the bass and drums have been put down.

It's impossible to offer advice on how to come up with a good part. Like writing a song or playing an improvised solo, arranging is a creative process, combining acquired skill and raw talent.

The Professional Approach

On the few library albums I engineered for David Reilly, I had the privilege of watching some of the top London session men at work. David would present a full arrangement for string or brass sections but allow a more flexible approach with the rhythm section.

The likes of Nick Glennie-Smith, Mitch Dalton, Andy Pask, and Charlie Morgan would work within David's broad outlines and contribute their own ideas for sounds or additional parts. One of the main qualifications for being a top session musician is this ability to arrange your own parts where necessary, or at least be aware of the arrangement demands of the piece.

One of the disadvantages of there not being so many arrangers in the business today is that when faced with a section, an inexperienced artist or producer is often liable to fall back on any number of musical clichés.

Along with keyboard pads and tick-tick hi-hats, one of the most common cliches which ultimately has a negative effect on the result, is the unnecessary use of backing vocals.

Again, it is often accepted that they have to be here by convention, and some way will be sought to use them without ever asking whether they are in fact necessary.

Use your singers with care and ask yourself exactly what you are trying to achieve before arranging for back-up voices. I've been asked to 'hide' more backing vocals under clouds of reverb than any other instrument.

Perhaps by now you will not be surprised to find that there is no magic formula which, when applied, results in a stunning and original arrangement. However, it is enough to be aware of the elements that go into the making of an arrangement and to try to be imaginative and sympathetic at every stage.

It sounds obvious enough, but it never ceased to amaze me how many people steamed ahead, past the basic rhythm track without a great deal of thought, eagerly getting onto the overdub stage and then wondered how and when their track died without them even noticing.

Analyse records and ask yourself what's doing what and why. What is it about the hi-hat in the Police's 'Every Breath You Take' that gives the track a random quality, when the bass is playing simple eights, and the drums rarely deviate from one and three and two and four?

In being creative all the way along the line you're learning every step of the way, as well as staying in close contact with the track.

I'm sure I'm not the only engineer who has worked with artists who decide to suspend their creativity from the minute they have finished writing the song until that moment at the mixdown stage when they look at the engineer and say 'OK, sort that lot out and deliver me a hit'.