Since the age of thirteen I've had some sort of "recording studio" in my basement.

The first one, in 1965, consisted of a Sears catalogue reel-to-reel recorder, about the size of a telephone directory (see image). 

I discovered, by covering the erase head with Scotch tape, I could record a second track of audio without erasing the first one.  Later I added a small switch to disable the erase head.

From that day on I was hooked on recording, and I dreamed of one day building my own studio.

Over the years I had a series of basement studios.  A long list of tape-recorders, mixers and miscellaneous gear came and went:  Philips, TEAC, Revox, Ampex, Neve, Sound Workshop, Urei, Pultec, Neumann. 

By the summer of 1989 my home studio was stretched to the limit, with a Studer 24-track recorder, an SSL E-Series console, and rack-upon-rack of compressors, limiters and effects units.  I was writing and recording with Aerosmith at the time ... very loudly ... and I had a new-born baby napping upstairs. 

My wife gently suggested it might be time to move the studio out of the house!

I looked for a building to rent, but as soon as I said "recording studio" the answer was always "no vacancy".  I thought about buying a building, but nothing suitable was available. 

So I purchased a vacant lot, hired an architect, and began the design and construction of Armoury Studios ... from the ground up.

For one hundred years Vancouver's architecture rivalled that of many of the world's great cities.  Sadly, since the 1970's a succession of visionless city councils have allowed many significant buildings to be demolished by greedy developers and wealthy immigrants, with no regard for the city's history or heritage.

With the Armoury studio I hoped to reverse that trend.  I wanted to create something that looked liked it had been there since the 1920's.

I heard about Howard Airey, a brilliant young architect with an affinity for "heritage" buildings. We met, and twenty-four hours later Howard presented me with a conceptual drawing. With very little modification that's what we built.

The technical and acoustical elements were overseen by Ron Vermeulen (aka "Ron Obvious" from his days as a punk-rock producer).  The construction was managed by Dick Reid's Kindred Developments.