How Candid Sessions with Music Legends Shaped Enrique Gonzalez Müller’s Creative Approach and Teaching Philosophy
Enrique Gonzalez Müller has collected career-defining epiphanies in studios around the world—whether it’s Tina Turner stopping a session to remind everyone why they make music, Dave Matthews rewriting a lyric sheet an hour before stepping to the mic, or MC Hammer dancing behind a control-room couch. He has also worked with Nine Inch Nails, Joan Baez, and a long list of artists in the US, Europe, and his home country of Venezuela, where his productions have earned multiple Latin Grammy Awards. As a Berklee professor and the program director for Berklee Online’s Music Production Graduate program, he brings those principles—and that curiosity—to every class. Here, he talks about early inspirations, full-circle hometown collaborations, and the moments in the studio that helped define how he works.
What was the first song you remember being moved by?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: The year was 1986. I’m from Venezuela originally, and I remember being brought to the US to go to a summer camp, and all the cool kids were listening to this one cassette they would always pop in the boombox. And I remember thinking, “The sounds that are coming out of that boombox cannot be made by humans! What is this wizardry?” Obviously, that was the first cassette I ever bought, Licensed to Ill, by Beastie Boys. And yeah, the rest is history.
What was the first music you heard that made you realize you wanted to go into music production?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: The Beastie Boys did get me in trouble but also Tears for Fears got me in trouble. I remember opening my child eyes and looking at bands playing instruments and thinking, “I can understand that,” but I also remember hearing Tears for Fears and thinking, “I see two dudes singing, but I’m also hearing horns, and way too many drum/percussion things, and I don’t see the people playing them. So for me, that really sparked my imagination, realizing “There are no rules! We can put anything in these sonic concoctions and move people’s hearts!” So I think that was the start.
And the second thing was the audition tape I had to send in to apply for Berklee College of Music. The assignment didn’t have many details or restrictions so I didn’t assume I had to send an impressive shredder guitar solo to prove that I’m a worthy guitarist, it just said: “send us a tape of your stuff.” I had a four-track cassette recorder, and I remember making this whole epic story with narration and singing, kind of like a little rock opera that I did with my guitar and my little multitrack. Even though I saw myself as a guitar player first, when I got to Berklee, Berklee did its thing, which is: you come here and you see all of the possibilities that Berklee has to offer. And this environment gave me a space to realize my potential, fully, which welcomed bringing together all of those creative ideas that didn’t conform to just playing one instrument or being one thing, or becoming a two-dimensional pigeonholed pro, in that sense. So, yeah, that’s what started it all.
With Berklee Online, Enrique Gonzalez Müller is the author and instructor of:
Before Berklee, when did you know that music had a hold on you and that was your path, and there was no other path forward?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: One year before graduating from high school, some professional came into my classroom and said, “Next week we’re giving you all a test to see what you’re good at.” And I remember doing my test, and I was so daunted and haunted by the thought of this person who was going to tell me what I was going to be for the rest of my life. And I take this test. And literally, it gave me two choices.
Choice No. 1: Gym coach.
Choice No. 2: Priest.
Those were the two choices! And I thought, “I’ve gotta answer this test myself!” And then I thought, “Well, what’s the one thing that I would do 26 hours a day, eight days a week?” It’s got to be music, because I just can’t think of anything else that I would want to do. That is still the case. So we’re doing alright.
I would venture to say that the test wasn’t totally wrong, because isn’t the music producer kind of like being a priest and the gym coach?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: It’s all making sense now! So I am a coach who guides people onto sonic betterness. I gotta go hit up that pro that gave me that test and apologize. So thank you.
Tell me about when you realized that you’d rather pursue music production than guitar.
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: My 18-year-old brain told me that I was going to be a guitar player, and that’s what I was going to be. My heroes are Steve Vai, Joe Satriani, and Jennifer Batten, and that’s what I’m going to do. And then I came to Berklee and I started practicing and practicing and practicing. But then I also got to hear different people doing arranging, doing production, doing electronic production design, doing all of these different things. And I felt that guitar was just too limiting and constricting for me, so that when it came time to choose a major, Music Production and Engineering just fit like a glove.
But then two semesters in, it actually felt constricting because it was microphones, and it was trying to make this verse go into the chorus and have that pop, sonically. And I felt, “But I need things to be a little bit weirder!” And then I added a second major, which was EPD, which back in the day was called Music Synthesis. And then I started studying photography at Massachusetts College of Arts! And then I started studying at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts! So for me, being at Berklee with the possibilities of really trying this vast buffet of different options was awesome for me!
The thing, though, is that through this expansion of my brain, I also saw myself reconnect with that kind of nine-year-old music-lover that got me into trouble, and I remember practicing and doing all of these things that I had to do for the test, which I did find very valuable. But I also played in a ska band, because you know, that’s the hippest genre ever!
And I love playing in a ska band, and being silly and dancing, and during my last semester at Berklee, I reconnected with my hometown heroes, a ska band that I listened to when I was nine, and I befriended them. And “I play this ska band, I’m living here, yada yada.” And then the next thing you know, before I graduate, they invite me to come to the studio and produce a track for them!
And that band is called Desorden Público. They’re still going strong, which is awesome. And that was the very first pro thing I did under Sony back in the day. And I still am friends with the guys. But that was my first gig that somehow made use of all of my brain expansion, but also brought it right back to me being a nine-year-old kid, and making that kid really, really happy!
You’ve also worked a lot with another hometown band, Los Amigos Invisibles. What has that collaboration been like for you?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: So imagine being 16 and you fall in love with that hometown band. For me, that band was Los Amigos Invisibles, which is a funk/dance band from Venezuela that I’ve now come to call my friends. We’ve worked together many times and won a bunch of Latin Grammys, and so on. And for me, one of the things that I cherish from them is that sometimes you work with people who say, “Hey, this is what I do, help me make me better.” But sometimes you work with artists who go, “This is me. This is an idea. Where can you take this? Let’s creatively collaborate and show me stuff that I can’t see myself!” That’s Los Amigos Invisibles! At least when they work with me. And one of the things that I have as a little feather in my cap is that the last time I went to Mexico City, I’m having dinner with Catire, the bass player, and he grabs a spoon, and he goes, “When we give you songs, it’s like, we give you this, a spoon. And what you give us back, it’s like, you give us back a microwave. Thank you dude, so awesome to work with you.” It’s so awesome for me to work with them as well.
You’ve worked with other heroes of yours throughout your career. I know you did some work with Jason Newsted of Metallica.
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: My first internship opportunity was under the band Metallica, which when I was 13, they were the be-all end-all for me. So I’m doing an internship with these guys, right? But I have something to prove too, because I just graduated and I was asked to go grab lunch, and I felt like, “This might be beneath me because I just graduated from Berklee College of Music, and I know all of this stuff! Why am I supposed to get lunch?” And then it dawned on me that it was just a little small task to see if I could hook up a lunch order. So I go grab the lunch order, and when I come back and I’m unpacking all the stuff, right next to me is Jason Newsted, bass player for Metallica. And he just looks at me and goes, “Dude, let me help you. What do you got? Oh yeah, Lars [Ulrich, drummer] is going to want it this way.” And he just helped me unpack the whole lunch. The rock star is helping the anonymous intern kid to hook up the lunch order. Fast-forward a few months later: We started talking a little bit about music because we connected over unpacking lunch. Next thing you know, I’m assisting his project. Then he leaves Metallica. He starts producing, then I start engineering for the guy. And Jason is a guy that I not only call a dear friend, but such an inspiration; an inspiration of humility, an inspiration of doing it for the right reasons, and that is the love of music. And drive! What focus! So I keep a very, very warm place for Jason Newsted, for really giving me one of those first lessons: You’ve got to be pro and you’ve got to be humble, and you’ve got to remember why we got into this mess.
How about the project you did with Nine Inch Nails and Kronos Quartet?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: So I’m in Chicago, doing an album for an indie British band that was awesome. And we had like 12 bucks to do this record, and we were working in the studio—again 26 hours a day—and I got a phone call and it was David Harrington from Kronos Quartet, who I had worked with before.
And he says, “Enrique, what are you doing in two days?”
And I say, “Tell me more!”
And he says, “We just got a call from Trent Reznor, who wants to do a project. And we’d love it if it’s the three of us—meaning Kronos Quartet, Nine Inch Nails, and you—as artists. Would you be down to producing this and doing this record with us?”
And I remember I was so underwater with this indie band that I was doing in Chicago, that I didn’t quite know if I had the stamina and the mental clarity to do it. And I remember telling David, “David, of course, I’d love to do it, but I don’t know if it’s going to be too much of a stretch for me. And I don’t want to put you guys in a bad spot. You know, if I can’t come through.
And I’m waiting for him to respond.
Pause, pause, pause.
And he says, “Enrique, if something is not a big stretch and you’re not going to commit fully to it, it’s not worth doing.”
And I just felt like, “Alright, it’s on!”
And “I’ll see you in two days in LA.”
And we’re going to do this record. And it was a great collaboration between Nine Inch Nails, Kronos Quartet, and me for a track that we did called “Another Version of the Truth,” which I’m still very proud of to this day.
You shared a story in a Berklee Online promo video about Tina Turner cutting through the stress in the studio, and it became a real epiphany for you. Can you share that story again?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: So sometimes when I get a little stressed by the gig, the gig of either making music or teaching, or the gig of life, I come back to this project that I did with Tina Turner. So imagine I’m in the Bay Area, where I used to live, in San Francisco. So I’m cutting a record with an Italian pop star—her name is Elisa, who’s a dear friend, and we’re making this album and the record company calls and says, “We just got you a duet opportunity with Tina Turner, but you’ve got to come to Switzerland—because that’s where she lives—two days from now and cut this record!” [Obviously we say,] “Of course!”
So we show up and it’s super stressful because the record label from Italy is now in Switzerland. It’s ALL the entourage. Then Tina Turner comes in and the point of the story is, by the time we got into the studio to cut this wonderful piece of music, everybody was so stressed. And Tina Turner does her first take, which is wonderful. And then she says, “Guys, stop.” And she comes right into the room, looks at all of us and goes, “Guys, we just need to relax. Remember that we’re here to make music and we’re not getting out of here until this thing rocks! … We have to remember that we’re here to try to move the hearts of others. It just needs to rock, and we’re not getting out of here until this thing rocks.”
Have you experienced any similar epiphanies from working with any other artists?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: One memory that I cherish a lot is my work that I’ve done with Joan Baez. I started working with Joan some years ago. We were in the studio, cutting a bunch of tracks for this collaboration she was doing with a French artist. And then we had to go play some live shows. I’m more of a studio person, but I remember going into this new realm for me, and it was so much work—much respect to people that do live sound, right?—but we’re there and it’s a ton of work, and we do the show and the show is epically long, and Joan Baez is Joan Baez, right? She’s a storyteller. So she’s giving you the whole history of Joan Baez in a two- or three-hour concert. And then we’re done. And everybody’s super tired. The fans are happy, everybody goes home happy. And I remember starting to pack up, and Joan comes up and says, “Could you put some music on?” And I’m thinking, “We just spent hours and hours and hours, playing music, doing music, answering questions about music, and what Joan wants to do is listen to more music!” And then I put a little bit of music on, and she started dancing by herself, onstage! I remember her just closing her eyes and just having a moment. She took her shoes off, and had the whole stage to herself. And it shifted so much, my view of “Why are we here? Oh, it’s this connection! What she wants to do now is connect again with the reason why we do this, which is the joys of music.” It’s not a gig. It’s not even this responsibility that we have to go and make the fans happy! It’s “We’re doing it because we love it! And it never stops!” So to infuse every moment of the day with that core reason of why we got into it is something that I really hold dear. It’s something that I try to bring to all the endeavors that I do, from producing music to teaching.
I like that these stories are all about that commitment to music. Any other examples of that from your work in the studio?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: Another memory I cherish about committing fully to what you’re doing is this project that I did with the Dave Matthews Band. This was an album called Busted Stuff, which was kind of a weird album for them because they had done the whole album, but they didn’t really like how it came out, and it leaked! The whole album! So they disavowed it, and then they did it again, but reworked it altogether and redid the lyrics. So we were cutting vocals, and Dave goes, “Give me a giant piece of paper, give me a Sharpie, and leave me alone for an hour.” And Dave literally wrote the entire lyrics for the song he was about to sing, an hour before he sang them. And I’m thinking, “How is this guy going to pull this off?”
I like how that story captures how close you are to the artists in the studio. You must have dozens of those ‘in the room’ stories—can you share another one?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: So not to get too macabre on you, but if I ever could choose my epitaph, what they’re going to put in my tombstone, it would be this quote I got from MC Hammer. So I get a call from the studio: “You need to be here now!” “Why? It’s my day off!” “MC Hammer is coming in the door. He needs you!” So I show up to the studio, and then I worked for MC Hammer for 48 hours straight! By the end of it I’m a little loopy because I’ve been mixing MC Hammer music for 48 hours, and I’m thinking I’m done with the last mix and I go, “Hammer, come in, check out the track.” And I hit play, and immediately he goes, “Where’s the volume?”
We’ve focused on lessons you’ve learned with the artists you’ve recorded and worked with, but are there any lessons you’ve learned from the students you’ve worked with?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: A highlight student that comes to mind is Josh Sebek. So I met Josh back in the day when he was studying a few courses here and there through Berklee Online. We did Critical Listening. It feels like eons ago. And then I get an email from Josh that says, “I’m applying to come to Berklee College of Music, brick and mortar. Would you write me a letter of recommendation?” So then Josh gets into Music Production and Engineering, and he becomes my student in Music Production and Engineering. And Josh is a person who, like all of us, some things come really easy to him, and some things he struggles with, like we all do. And I was always so moved by his focus, his humility, and his sense of humor around the things that were tough for him and how he overcame every single test that was put out there, and always try to just make art through these tests. To just share with you how much I enjoyed Josh as a human being and as a student, and as a pro: Josh Sebek is now my main go-to mastering engineer.
Let’s talk a little bit more about teaching. What’s your teaching philosophy?
Enrique Gonzalez Müller: If I was to try to distill teaching, for me, it’s not even teaching. It’s sharing. So for me, the part that I have to give is that I’m filled with curiosity. I love to travel. Anytime I get a menu and I see something on the menu that I don’t know how to pronounce, that’s the thing that I order. And I collect all these things, and I love to share them with people. And I have taken deep dives into some realms of humanity, the things that I’ve been a pro at, so sure, I take the mantle of “teaching” music production and engineering, “teaching” arranging, but for me, it’s just sharing cool things that I’ve discovered. But I need people to share back with me. So for me, when I’m in a room, I always start my sharing endeavors by talking about food, because No. 1, it’s the best; and No. 2, because I have the privilege of being in a room with people from all over the world. And I’m not an expert on food from Cambodia. I’m not an expert on food from Minas Gerais in Brazil. So for me to have access to that wealth and that entryway of food then becomes a wider conversation. I try to make it a big, big, fluid, mutual back and forth of sharing.
Also, I feel that if a class is called, let’s say, Vocal Production, of course I’m going to teach vocal production. But I tell students on the first day, “This is not going to be about vocal production. This is not even going to be about production. This is not even going to be about a life in the arts. This is just going to be about exploring the betterment of humanity, as lofty as that sounds.” So it’s through the vehicle of whatever we’re here to do. And I’m not saying that I’ve got all of the answers, but I do want us to come together through putting up a microphone, doing a bunch of takes, learning quick keys, Pro Tools, tuning that one note, whatever it is that we’re trying to explore. And again, it goes back to the reason of why we’re here. Music is all about emotion, right? So for me, that kick drum sample, this tuning of that one note with Melodyne, it’s all in the service of that emotional button push that we’re trying to convey and elicit in one another.
