Kyle Pulley, Joe Reinhart, and Mark Watter share their upbringing in Headroom Studios, and open door policy for young creatives.
By: Brittany Deitch
[Credit: Brittany Deitch]
The whirlwind of recognition for Headroom Studios' creative space as the birthplace of various works by Alex G, Dr. Dog, Beach Bunny, Algernon Cadwallader, Hop Along, Diet Cig and other Philadelphia greats sucked me up and spit me out at, first, an auto-shop, then a gas station, then three Uber reroutes later Kyle Pulley, Co-Owner, greets me outside and tells me "it happens all the time." The recording space has relocated three times (moving from Kensington to Clifton Heights) and has three identical addresses within five minutes of each other, erupting most attempted commutes. It's surely not updated on Apple Maps.
Once guided inside through the warehouse's bends and ramps, Pulley (Co-Owner) introduces me to Joe Reinhart, Co-Owner, and Mark Watter, Studio Manager. They apologize for the rocky unearthing of Headroom's true location, immediately jumping into a witty, light-hearted nature that I can feel lingering in the air upon my arrival. It is clear that it isn't just a mask-- the guys have been working together for years, and are friends before they're anything else. I say that it's completely fine, ironically adding, "It's like, people can't just catch a glimpse of Alex G walking on in!"
After way more jokes, a tour of their mug collection, and a joyous tour of the studio itself, we finally sit down together and get serious (but not too serious) in the common-space living room about how Pulley, Reinhart, and Watter have curated the space into its present state and surrounding acclaim, concentrating so much Philly magic into their studio, mixing and mastering it, then pouring it back out for the world to hear.
[Credit: Brittany Deitch]
Headroom Studios started 15 years ago when Pulley and Reinhart met at Drexel University during their time as young students in Philadelphia. In college, the two were suspicious of each other. Pulley had a mullet, Reinhart had a lip ring-- it wasn't until they eliminated both of those two things that they became friends. Watter fit into the equation when he began as an intern at the studio some time ago-- underneath a program that began almost as an accident.
The studio had peaked interest from students shortly after it started-- ones not much younger than the founding duo. Pulley shares that Watter was committed to the team full time through the means of an initial internship, and continues that "at some point, it dawned on us that we were in a gate-keeper position of the recording industry, and had an opportunity to elevate young artists, producers and engineers who were underrepresented."
He continues to speak highly of the talent they've been able to elevate and host through the non-traditional program: "It's an ongoing learning process to help level the playing field in such a competitive industry, and by no means have we figured it out, but we are proud to have been able to help quite a few people along their way to becoming full time musicians and record producers. Mark Watter, Shane Woods, Chance Milestone, Danny Murillo, Johanna Baumann, and Richie Devon have all started out as interns and worked their way towards working in and out of our studio full time on amazing records. Other freelancers like Heather Jones, Isaac Eiger, Justin Nazario, and Hank Byerly have found their place in the industry, and got some of their formative experience at Headroom."
While the first space they found was a spare rehearsal room in North Philadelphia, they still aim to allow for an environment with as much fluidity and imagination as when it started: "Even though we've moved on from those humble beginnings we still try to approach our studio as a welcoming creative space by musicians, for musicians. We've tried to curate quality equipment that can be widely utilized in many genres, but more importantly we try to curate a space and experience that centers the artistic vision and the creative emotional state of our clients. We value an open dialogue with all of our collaborators that we hope creates a safer space for them to work and create," Pulley remarks. The ethos surrounding Headroom Studios is made up of serious drive, and a love for music through the individual-- they train aspiring producers who have music on their mind, as well as in their heart.
All you have to do is ask, and it will be granted, at least, the founding duo Pulley and Reinhart make it their goal to put forth this kind of energy when considering projects, implementing a creative scarcity mindset and providing diverse options for musicians, producers, and anyone at all who hopes to bring their work to life. There isn't a barrier to entry, Watter making it extremely clear throughout our conversation that "Headroom Studios is a space built by musicians, for musicians."
The first serious work that Pulley was apart of was alongside Bill Moriarty, Dr. Dog's sound engineer. He sent an unsolicited email to Moriarty, who replied by asking him to come over to Larry Gold's The Studio Philly (now MilkBoy Studios) to help mix and edit on the record they were working on at the time. Receiving the email notification while out at a party, he left, and rode his bike across Philly to get there. Now Headrooms Studios is a shared space between Pulley, Reinhart, and Dr. Dog.
[Credit: Brittany Deitch]
As it has evolved, Headroom Studios aims to provide a space where anyone feels comfortable. It's welcoming and poignantly intuitive. It's human, prioritizing art in its purest, most genuine form.
While the roles being fulfilled by these guys are technically creative jobs, these positions are also extremely psychological. Reinhart shares that the belief that "you can teach someone to engineer but you can't teach someone to read the room, or be compassionate."
Pulley adds to this sentiment: "To me, the difference between an engineer and the producer is that. A producer may or may not have that technical knowledge, but they have the emotional knowledge to let an artist feel heard and get excited about doing the things that you think will highlight their strengths. It's an iterative process." He keeps going, sharing that "it's tough to have this duality in your brain, where on one hand you need to be, like a cheerleader, you need to be excited, infect other people in the room with this joy and excitement about making this record, but also in the back of your head, be critical about it."
This mindset has been applied to not only collaborative works, but the music which the guys have recorded themselves for their personal projects. Reinhart plays in Algernon Cadwallader, Watter plays in Lizdelise and Swim Camp, and Pulley plays in Thin Lips. Being engulfed in significant projects has given them the perspective of "being on the other side of the glass," Reinhart says, allowing them to offer mentorship and advice to younger bands.
In aiming to provide a space for everyone, including newcomers, Pulley, Reinhart, and Watter are caught up in how to elevate fresh minds at Headroom, while simultaneously working with a wide roster of artists. The studio has become the whole life of these three men, and it's grown into a precious space, handled with as much care and intention as the musical product that leaves the studio. Yet they graciously open the door for outsiders to carefully infiltrate what they've cultivated.
When I ask the guys what they'd tell to those fresher bands, or share as some of their profound takeaways from spending so much of their lives in the recording studio, in an all-consuming way, Pulley picks up pace one more time: "At some point when you're making a record, you approach it with this huge expansive it could be anything, and you get in the studio and lay it down. Once it comes to the end of the project, it's like, it could've been anything, but now it's this. And now we have to lean into what it is. And maybe your idea about what it was going to be changed."
Watter jumps in to quickly add advice he was taught, himself, by a friend, who explained that "production really is the process of closing those doors in production. Then you reach a door that you didn't really expect to, but if you don't close some of those doors, you end up with so many paths you could tread. Versus if you are intentional about closing those doors and making those decisive big choices, you end up at this spot that is unexpected and also great."
The entire process at Headroom Studios begins in the hands of experienced producers, but the craft is slowly passed down like verbal tradition. It was given to Pulley through Bill Moriarty, it was given to Watter through Pulley, given to you through Watter, and so on and so forth. In the same way that language is transmitted through generations, the process and opportunity for inspired creation is reborn, again and again.
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Brittany Deitch runs Ratpie Friends. She's a Philadelphia college graduate, music denier, and stream-of-consciousness writer. She currently writes for Paste Magazine and has words in Rejections Letters, Maudlin House, Back Patio Press, and elsewhere. She writes on Substack at https://theworstpersonintheworld.substack.com/ and is online @brittanydeitch.