
Songs were to be fully conceived before getting the orchestral treatments at Hollywood's Capital Studios. The idea was to start with the melodies and work out from there. "He wanted it to be about thinking, writing and listening." "He wanted to not make a sound for a whole year," Groban says, smiling as he shakes his head. The producer took more of a movie-making approach, sketching out songs in pencil. "I like to see where we are - to jam, be inspired by the sound."Īnd Rubin? Not so much. native, referring to his way of writing and recording. "I'm the kind of person who usually likes to make noise immediately," says the L.A. Groban, who has worked extensively with the more traditional, big-ballad producer David Foster, initially found Rubin's unbending process to be as woolly as the producer's own famously straggled beard. He's known for stripping away layers - painstakingly - to reach the purest essence of artists and songs. Now, Rubin, he is a freak - a peaceful, idiosyncratic one, who's made great and often commercially successful music with everyone from Slayer and Danzig to Johnny Cash and Neil Diamond. Dressed plainly in jeans and a plaid shirt, the tousle-haired crooner with the deep brown eyes is something of a poor man's Noah Wyle.


Sipping water in his hotel suite as he illuminates the process that resulted in his fifth studio album, he's relaxed, casual and friendly. Likewise, Groban - apart from his supple-toned throat and unreal ability to sell records and concert seats - is not so freakish at all. In The Boy in the Plastic Bubble, the underrated actor and Brady Bunch patriarch Robert Reed froze time with the passionate defence of his immune-deficient boy.
