Eddie Kramer worked on rock’s biggest moments – but with Jimi Hendrix, it was different | Canada Voices

Eddie Kramer zips around a private studio in Ontario’s Prince Edward County, practically crackling with energy. “Check this out!” he shouts, as Jimi Hendrix’s Freedom explodes from the sound system. Kramer, 82, flicks his fingers first at one speaker, then another and so on, back and forth, stabbing the air as each one puts forth a different note in turn. It’s as if every riff and beat were dancing under his command.

The South African-born, Ontario-based producer and engineer’s showmanship isn’t just a ploy to heighten the studio experience – it’s the sonic payoff of a painstaking reimagining for the new Electric Lady Studios: A Jimi Hendrix Vision box set, showcasing the seminal guitarist’s final studio efforts in 5.1 surround sound. The three CDs and accompanying Blu-ray documentary present 38 unreleased tracks recorded during 1970, as well as the history of one of the most vaunted recording studios of all time.

For more than six decades, Kramer has been behind the mixing board for some of rock’s greatest moments, from the psychedelic fervour of Hendrix’s Are You Experienced to the thunderous power of Led Zeppelin’s early albums. The audio architect spoke to The Globe about those chaotic, electric sessions – whether it was Brian Jones banging on an out-of-tune piano, Jimmy Page obsessing over details or late-night jams with the Beatles.

You and Jimi Hendrix had a special connection in the studio. What made it different from working with other artists?

Jimi and I had this instinctive connection. He didn’t talk about music in technical terms; he used colours. He’d say, “I need more purple,” or, “Let’s add some green here.” For him, reverb was green, distortion was red and each song had its own palette. It wasn’t just about notes or chords – it was about creating a feeling, painting a picture in sound. I haven’t really found that same language with anyone else. With Jimi, I’d just know what he meant. It was a kind of shorthand that made our sessions incredibly dynamic.

There’s a reputation that Hendrix’s sessions were always chaotic. How true is that?

It was like walking into a circus run by a mad genius. There were always people around – hangers-on, musicians, a constant stream of characters. One time during the Electric Ladyland sessions, there were 30 people crammed into the control room, just hanging out, drinking, smoking, making noise. I finally said, “Jimi, if we want to get this done, we need to clear out the riff-raff.” He sighed and said, “Yeah, man, you’re right.” We kicked everyone out except for me, him and the tape op. The minute it was quiet, he nailed the track in one take.

That’s what it was like – chaos swirling around, but Jimi could hone in and find laser focus. It was the same intensity you saw in his live performances, but even more concentrated.

You worked with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, too – two bands known for very different studio approaches. What was it like with them?

When I worked with the Beatles, I was blown away by how efficient they were. We did Baby, You’re a Rich Man in one night – tracked, overdubbed and mixed by 4 a.m. They knew exactly what they wanted. George Martin would guide them, but they had this energy and precision. It was the complete opposite of the Rolling Stones, who were much looser in their approach.

With Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Page and Jimi had similar traits – they both had a clear vision of what they wanted. Page was meticulous, always thinking in terms of arrangements and technical details. He’d find some random instrument, like a clutch wheel with bamboo sticks, and figure out a way to use it in two takes. Jimi was more free-form – he’d just grab things and say, “Let’s see what happens!” That’s what made each session so unique.

Electric Lady Studios has become almost mythical. What made Jimi want to build it in the first place?

Electric Lady was supposed to be his creative home. He wanted a place that reflected his ideas – a space where he could experiment and push boundaries without feeling rushed. The studio became an extension of his mind. He’d say, “I want the studio to be a place where the walls inspire music.” The documentary shows that it wasn’t just about recording; it was about creating a space for music to happen.

You’ve spent decades diving into Jimi’s archives. With so much unreleased material, is there really anything left that we haven’t heard?

There’s always something new to discover. Jimi recorded so much in such a short time – he was always trying new things. I wouldn’t say there’s a complete, unreleased album, but there are unheard versions and fragments. It’s about preserving his legacy and making sure everything we release meets the standard Jimi would have wanted.

With all these remixes, how do you keep Jimi’s original vision intact?

It’s a balancing act. My goal is to present Jimi’s music in a way that feels true to what he would have wanted. That means using modern technology to enhance the experience without losing the essence of the original tracks. When I’m mixing, I want people to feel like they’re right there in the studio, watching him create.