Music to Their Wheels
Automotive audio specialist Howard Becker provides more than
just sound advice. He builds rolling pleasure palaces for Hollywood's
elite.
By Jack Smith
Reprinted from Robb Report,
November 1998
Howard Becker was in his office when Michael Jackson called
from Buckingham Palace. "Michael was doing the Dangerous
tour through England, and he'd been invited to the palace to
meet Queen Elizabeth,' recalls the wiry, ponytailed Becker.
"Michael loves cars, so while he was there, he asked the
queen if he could see her car. She said yes and took him down
to the garage to see it. It was a customized Rolls Royce, very
ornate, with lots of luxury touches.
"Michael liked the car so much he called from the palace's
garage and asked me, "Howard, ca we do something like this?'
I remember sitting there, wondering just what it was he was
looking at. I mean, this was the queen of England's car."
Jack-o's request may have been bewildering, but Becker never
doubted that his company, Becker Automotive Design, could create
a vehicle equally opulent. In Becker's hands, even the most
prosaic vehicle can be transformed into a high-performance,
status-laden Xanadu, a rolling pleasure palace replete with
sound and entertainment systems to dazzle the eye and thrill
the senses. Laser detectors and closed-circuit systems alert
to trouble ahead and behind; satellite navigation equipment
pinpoints course and location; and suede-covered, individually
customized seats with built-in massage units make even a trip
to the cornet store a sensuous experience.
To be sure, the Becker treatment doesn't come cheap. A sport
utility that originally cost $30,000 may roll out of his shop
sporting another $100,000 worth of amenities. To Hollywood's
elite, however, the results are well worth the expense. Over
the past dozen years Becker has developed a celebrity clientele
to rival that of the William Morris agency, while his shop,
an ersatz chateau that formerly housed an Italian restaurant,
draws as many celebrities as Spago.
Where Los Angelinos once dined on mussels marinara and osso
buco, there are now control panels and speakers, custom-made
seats, mats, and alloy wheels on display. Becker's desk site
unceremoniously in the center of the former dining room, and
the walls are hung with autographed pictures, posters, and
album covers from his admirers, from the king of pop to Motown
mogul Berry Gourdy to stars Barbara Streisand, Whoopi Goldberg,
Jerry Seinfeld, Bruce Springsteen, Paul Reiser, Steven Spielberg,
Dionne Warwick, artist David Hockney, Cheech Marin, Snoop
Doddy Dogg, M.C. hammer, Dr. Dre, and Mel Torme.
At the only other desk in the office is Larry Steon, who
manages the company's conversion sales, "We have a regular
checklist for perspective customers to use in selecting their
upgrades. Most of them have no idea what they're getting into."
He holds up one such form. "This fellow here has checked
off special wheels, tires, suspension, brakes, paint, projector
lights and fog lights, security system, multiple TV's, a sound
system, GPS tracking. . . That's at least $100,000 worth of
extras."
But the change is dramatic. Outside, a fully converted sport
utility rolls past, its original identity erased beneath the
dark monochromatic sheet metal and cladding. The smoked glass
shields the driver from sight, and as the car rolls past it
howls its metamorphosis to the world, the subwoofers thumping
like fists against the office windows.
However lavish the amenities, Becker emphasizes that the
majority of his buyers consider the services a necessity rather
than a luxury. "Take Slash from Guns N' Roses or rappers
like Dr. G and Snoop Doggy Dogg," Becker suggests. "No
matter what you think of them or their music, they're serious
musicians. And when they're driving along in their cars, it's
their own music they're listening to; they need to hear everything.
They're very focused once they get into their own element.
"The big issue is the overall sound quality; if it's
good enough, everybody likes it," he adds. "Musicians
are very demanding customers."
They can be appreciative as well. After Berry Gourdy spent
over an hour auditioning the sound system Becker's technicians
installed in his Rolls-Royce, he assigned the same crew to
redo the media room at his home.
Earlier that morning Becker had driven an hour north of L.A.
to a set where repeat customer Will Smith was shooting a new
version of The Wild, Wild West, the Robert Conrad sci-fi/Western
of the 1960's. Becker's shop was doing a jaw-dropping transformation
of Smith's Suburban including textured Bentley black carpets,
the best black leather with leather suede, and custom Japanese
ash wood treatments with silver highlights.
The CD sound system in Smith's rig represents the culmination
of everything Becker and his highly trained corps of technicians
have ever learned. The equipment begins with and $8,000 Sony
XES dash-mounted head unit which connects via a non-distortive
Kimber home stereo cable to the speakers. "You wouldn't
believe the difference a cable can make," says Becker.
"It sweetens the music."
The speaker system includes 16 Dynaudio speakers from Denmark
discreetly mounted in the front door, pillar posts, rear door,
and third door with two large AVI subwoofers mounted under
a false floor in the cargo area. The amplification is by McIntosh
Audio Labs with a parametric equalizer affording 10 channels
of fine tuning. Other sound sources include tape cassette
and radio, a DVD player, VHS, and two Sony Play Stations,
with three 6.4-inch high-resolution liquid crystal display
screens, one mounted on the front passenger visor and two
behind the front seat headrests. "It becomes a true mobile
home theater, rather than an audio or video system in the
narrow sense," says Becker. "When it's all put together,
people just loose control.
Whether a movie star or a rapper or a CEO of an international
conglomeration, says Becker, all of his customers have one
thing in common: "Nobody wants to just listen to the
music in their car; they want to luxuriate in it."
This insight launched Becker into the forefront of the L.A.
auto-sound scene in the late 1970's. "Somebody would
come into the shop where I worked for an extra speaker in
their car. I would ask them, 'Do you really want an extra
speaker, or do you want more music? Do you want a more exciting
ride? When you pick up your date on Friday night, do you want
the passenger compartment to be filled with sound and rhythm?'
I wasn't selling electronics. I was selling an experience."
Becker's toughest sell, though, was his own father, Bernard,
who originally owned the shop. "It was really more of
a repair shop than anything, and my father didn't want me
in the business. He had bigger dreams for me. He wanted me
to go to law school and become a lawyer."
The way Bernard Becker saw it, young Howard was bound to
succeed as a lawyer. After all, his son had everything else,
both on the athletic field and in the classroom. In 1966,
Becker won a track scholarship to the University of Southern
California, where he competed in both 400- and 800-meter events,
ultimately earning world ranking in the quarter mile in 1969.
"Those were great days," he reminisces. "In
'68 and '69 I spent the summers traveling across Europe with
Bob Seagren, who was America's premier pole-vaulter, and competing
with the U.S. track team."
They were also crazy days. "It was the '60s. The whole
world was expanding and breaking with the conservative parameters
of the past. We were looking at our universe through a new
prism. All sorts of experimentation was going on." He
smiles. "Fortunately, track kept me straight. So in 1970
I got my B.A. in psychology and entered business school."
Once in the work-a-day world, he discovered there was much
he hadn't learned in business school. "I got me M.B.A.
in 1971 and went to work for a management consulting firm.
I worked with $1 [million] to $5 million firms doing financial
planning, marketing, and capital restructuring. But I found
I was becoming envious of the business owners. I was drawn
to the nitty-gritty of running my own company."
Becker was becoming an entrepreneur, but he knew nothing
about the world of the entrepreneur. "At that time, American
universities didn't take entreprenuership seriously,"
he explains. "Now, it's big, but back then it was mom-and-pop
stuff. Business schools were geared to prepare their graduates
for careers in marketing of finance with Fortune 500 companies
or on Wall Street."
Becker decided to do something about that. First he immersed
himself in the literature of entreprenuership. Then, at the
age of 23, he started teaching it. "It began as a noncredit
course at Pierce Junior College in Woodland Hills, Calif.
I remember the very first class. Over a hundred people showed
up, most of them business owners. I'll never forget the feeling
of walking down the aisle to the front of the auditorium.
My voice squeaked as I started to say, 'Hi, I'm here to teach
you how to run a business.'"
Shortly thereafter Becker's course became part of the accredited
curriculum at California Lutheran University, where he continued
to teach for the next 20 years. The teaching experience was
gratifying, but five years into the stint the former track
star began reassessing his life and goals, his likes and dislikes.
His training in psychology enabled him to communicate effectively
with people and understand their wants and needs. Further,
he'd always been an affinity for both music and cars. Not
that he had any musical talent, but it was music-Elvis, the
Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix-that had defined
his generation. At the same time, there was his penchant for
high performance, whether on the athletic field or on the
highway. He had been teaching entreprenuership for five years;
now perhaps it was time to practice it. And what a better
place to do it that in his father's car radio shop.
The Biggest Critic
Bernard Becker was less than enthusiastic about working with
his son. "When I first went to work for him, he would
introduce me to his customers by saying: 'This is my son the
schmuck; he went to college to work at my radio shop.'"
The younger Becker was initially frustrated. "I really
wasn't very good with a screwdriver. I was all thumbs at installing
electronic gear. Dad would give me jobs like stacking the
shelves, just to keep me out of his way."
But as Becker soon proved, he had a knack for selling. "I
didn't just want to repair car stereos, I wanted to improve
[their sound]. Dad had always prided himself on doing a job
as economically as possible. The typical car of that time
had an AM/FM radio in the dash hooked up to one monaural speaker.
When customers wanted to convert to an 8-track tape and stereo
system, Dad would say 'Keep the speaker in front; I'll just
add another in the back. It'll be cheaper and save you money.'
But the way I saw it, it wasn't gizmos people wanted-not more
radios or speakers or more amps, but more music-a deeper,
richer sensation."
Soon, woofers were booming throughout the surrounding neighborhood
and so was word about the Becker's radio shop. "The shop
was situated in Hawthorne, a predominantly black neighborhood
north of LAX, so our clientele wasn't affluent, but after
a motor and four wheels, the people who came into the shop
had to have music."
The first breakthrough came in 1997, the result of attitude
as much as an advancement in technology. "e looked at
the car as if it were a home. What this means is, we took
combinations of speakers-bass, midrange, and tweeters-and
built them into the car much as you would build an in-home
stereo system. It was the first time anybody had done that,"
says Becker.
Meanwhile, across the street from Becker's shop, the competition
was cutting prices. "It was a place called Leo's, and
they sold stereo equipment at a discount. Some customers came
to us first to see what they wanted, then went across the
street to Leo's to buy it cheaper.
"But in a way, the presence of Leo's helped to differentiate
us from conventional automotive stereo shops. They were selling
a commodity, and when you're doing that, all you want to do
is move products.
"We were selling value-added, and so we focused on quality.
We were always learning and looking for ways to improve sound.
A car isn't like any other environment; it presents special
challenges. The smaller the car, the more difficult it is
to work with; the larger the car, the more room you have to
mount equipment. Window glass can be particularly problematic.
It reflects sound, while carpets absorb it. Audio direction
is another consideration. Speakers are usually mounted in
positions 'off axis' to the passengers' ears, and of course
the driver never sits in the middle of the car."
A second and bigger breakthrough can in 1979, when Becker
committed what some claimed was automotive heresy. Becker
purchased a new Mercedes 450SL, ripped out its factory-installed
sound system, and replaced it with his own design incorporating
home stereo components and speakers. Then he drove it down
Wilshire Boulevard to every Mercedes Benz, Rolls-Royce, Porsche,
and Ferrari agency in Beverly Hills. "Some of the people
at the Mercedes-Benz [dealerships] said, 'How dare you put
anything but factory equipment in that car?' That was maybe
25 percent of them. The rest of them were amazed when they
heard the difference.
"Then I outfitted some of the sales managers' cars with
similar equipment. It was a big investment, but the celebrities
weren't coming to Hawthorne, so we had to come to them. It
gave the salesman something extra to sell. The Ferrari or
Porsche of Rolls-Royce salesmen would ask a customer, 'Say,
would you be interested in upgrading your sound system?' Considering
that we were in the music capital of the world, there were
lots of reasons for them to say yes."
The first celebrity to nod an affirmative was Rod Stewart.
"He had a Porsche Turbo, and we installed about eight
or 10 speakers in his car. Then Barry Manilow brought us his
convertible Rolls-Royce; it already had been redone, and it
was a disaster."
In 1984, Becker moved the company, by then known as Becker
Automotive Design (B.A.D.), to its present site, a half-block
south of Beverly Hills, and began routinely installing upgraded
sound systems for every Porsche, Mercedes, BMW, Rolls-Royce,
and Ferrari dealership from San Fernando Valley to Long Beach.
Utilitarian Luxuries
The shape of today's celebrity transportation arrived at
Becker's shop in the early 1990's. However, it wasn't in the
form of the low and slinky and outrageously expensive; it
was big and boxy and made for the mass market.
For Becker and the four-wheel-drive sport utility, it was
love at first sight. Here was a vehicle that begged for added
value - not just in the way it sounded, but in the way it
looked and handled - and Becker Automotive Design was just
the company to provide it. "Snoop Doggy Dogg and Warren
G. owned two of the first SUVs we totally customized,"
says Becker, "and rappers have a tremendous influence
in the L.A. culture, not just on fashion and music, but also
in the cars that entertainment and sports stars drive. Now,
in the music and sports world, people simply have the have
an SUV."
The appeal of the SUV, explains Becker, begins with its versatility
and size. "But they can be improved upon from several
points: power, brakes, suspension, exterior and interior aesthetics,
and electronics. Once you do that, you have an SUV that feels
like a European high-performance luxury car, only the SUV
has more value and utility that the luxury car. You can pull
up next to an exotic or luxury vehicle, and all the excitement
is in the truck. They're tough, they build value, and they
give their drivers great pride of ownership."
The possibilities are evident in the gleaming metallic khaki
GMC Yukon that stands outside the door to Becker's office.
"This one's headed for Kuwait," says Larry Seton,
who handles sales of SUV conversions for B.A.D. "It's
supercharged to produce and extra 100 horsepower. It's got
special brakes, upgraded suspension, and, naturally, TV and
video games built into the backs of headrests. The massage
units are built into the seat backs."
A dark blue Rolls Royce stands next to the Yukon, and Seton
opens the trunk to display the heavy woolen mat embroidered
with England's Order of the Garter. No less conspicuously,
the D-pillar sports a metallic heraldic medallion. "Must
be the royal family's coat of arms," says Seton, with
a shrug. Inside, the rear passenger compartment is decorated
with antique lamps and a glass vase.
"Oh, the Rolls?" Becker responds brightly, as we reenter
the office. "We did that for Michael Jackson after he saw
the queen of England's. He says he likes his better than hers."
