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Talk to any of those professional musicians creating genius in professional studios, and you're likely to hear some strange, duty-specific lingo. Words like "Pro-Tools, "Auto Tune" and "Propellerhead" will float all around you like they mean something important. These are the new English in modern music recording

Start throwing those words around in my studio, and I'll laugh at you.

Truth is my studio is old school. Hell, calling it old school may even be an insult to old schoolers. My studio is hanging off the hinges, barely practical, crap sonic manufacturing. If there was anything past bare bones, It'd be what I work with. Bare marrow maybe...or bare calcium even. Kinda catchy actually.

Anyway, without going into mind numbing specifics, here's the basics. My recording platform was designed to work with Windows 95. My computer runs Windows 2000, has never known a Gigahertz, nor seen the joys of RAM above 200 megabytes. The only saving grace being that it doesn't take much juice to run.

No fancy audio interfaces or vacuum-loaded preamps. A single device, originally designed to be cheap and quick entertainment for the burgeoning musician, now acts as sound processor and pre amplification for every single device I use. It's plugged into less than professional, weatherbeaten and abused instruments that have no business in a studio, and run straight into whatever low budget sound card came with the computer when I bought it some eight years ago.

It's primate recording, I make no excuses for it. Wholly impractical, completely outdated, and probably nightmare-inducing to those aforementioned professionals out there. But, it is also something else: Completely functional.

Through this half-assed mockery of a setup, I've managed to record a great deal of music. Half finished ideas of course, but there is at least one album of music that the world knows about , and at least one they don't. Even if you're disgusted with my methods, you must admit that I've created a substantial output with crap.

I haven't operated this way out of some rebellious streak, or with any great deal of pride. It's what I had, and I needed to make it work. And I could either wish and want for the fancy glamorous stuff of my adept peers, or I could get some shit done. So, I opted to keep working.

Truth be told, it's always been a topic of shame for me. I've been practicing guerrilla recording tactics while the rest of the world has moved on to grander pastures. Programs like Pro-Tools are not top of the line toys anymore, they're gold standards in this business. And I'm so way off the benchmark, it's a wonder there isn't a wanted poster with my ugly mug on it. "If you want success, record deals, and hot chicks, avoid what this idiot does!" I feel like a lazy person who has somehow cheated. I'm not a real musician, I don't even deserve the title. I've cut so many corners in what I do, that it shouldn't even be acceptable. Some days I stare at the studio, study the nicks, crust and age on my rig, and feel very very ashamed of what I've made.

That stopped today. Today I got me some perspective, and from a cook book no less.

While reading a few pages from Anthony Bourdain, a personal hero of mine and one hell of a writer, I learned the word débrouillard. Translated, it means being skilled at adapting to any situation, to be resourceful. Bourdain called it "System D," and used it as a metaphor for the shortcuts cooks would have to take in order to deliver good food consistently, and quickly. Things like using microwaves, swapping ingredients when stocks are low, anything to stay on the ball. These are skilled talented people in a well respected establishment cutting any corner necessary to keep the customer fed.

It was brilliant.

I realized that I'm not motivated by laziness when I do things the way I do. I didn't design this to make things easy. In fact, I think if any modern professional watched me work, they're probably say I invest too much time making this crap work right. I bust ass to create results and anything I lose in fancy recording gets made up with solid, articulate performances. If a track doesn't pass the mustard, it gets cut. Even if that means doing the whole thing all over again, that's what has to happen (and has happened many many times.) I get the result.

And as for the quality of the result? Shit, I'll stand behind it. My ears function pretty well, and what I hear sounds good to me . As for the masses? Well, I've never heard one complaint. Nobody's ever told me that any song is horribly mixed, or poorly recorded. Sure folks, hate the songs, loathe the lyrics, or simply just don't like me. Still, it seems that, despite these heinous guerrilla recording tactics I employ, people acknowledge what I do as being professional.

In my own private little way, I've become a débrouillard. I took what I had and made results from it. And it's pretty goddamn liberating. Like nothing can stop me. When the muse hits, I can take this mountain of worthless crap, and continue to whip out product at a ridiculous rate. And when one component in this little turd-machine finally craps out on me, I know I'll find some other way to make it work. I've gone against the standard and somehow managed to succeed in all this. I'm unstoppable baby!

System D. Who would've thought?