As engineers, our job is to harness and showcase the artist’s voice and vision to the best of our abilities. I believe we can better achieve this by re-evaluating our relationship with the artist, the art, and the process.

Our Relationship with the Artist

When I first hear a song, I take notice of its shape, the way it moves over time. Where does it want to end up? Is it where the artist intended it to be? I listen for intention. What was the artist's mindset while they were creating? What were their conscious or subconscious influences? To create a mix that showcases the artist, I must think as they do, in shapes and colors, feelings and emotions, past, future, and present. Being sensitive to these forms of expression is imperative when finalizing someone's song or album. 

It is important to understand that most artists have sacrificed a lot to get to where they are; they put their entire selves into their work. As engineers, we help shape this work, but we do not hold the responsibility of selling it or performing it. Upon a project’s completion, the engineer moves on to the next project, while the artist must continue to live with and own what they have created.

Speaking like an Artist

Very often, the engineer’s language can cause the artist to feel one of two ways:

1. Inadequate — due to a lack of understanding of engineering terminology.
2. Frustrated — because they don’t want to discuss engineering terminology (tip: most people don’t care about the difference between 2k and 3k).

The artist wants to convey emotion through their performance. This can be handled as the engineer sees fit, as long as the engineer can internalize the intention of the artist. It is imperative not to alienate them from the process by using terminology outside their vocabulary. The artist’s language is oriented toward describing how a song makes them feel, while the engineer’s language is often concerned with method and technique. I believe that speaking the artist’s language is the best way to both understand their intent and comprehend the music they create. The specialist jargon we use as engineers is certainly useful, but it never describes what is in the mind of the artist.

Our Relationship with the Art

Letting music out of their heads, hearts, and hands is not easy for artists, and as engineers, we should never take our relationship with the artist for granted. We should hone our engineering skills and our emotional intelligence simultaneously. It takes a certain level of sensitivity to the human condition to mute the ego and consistently put the artist first, while maintaining some creative injection of oneself. The engineer with the best technical skills and zero emotional intelligence does not get hired a second time. On the other hand, the engineer that has both skill sets may be entrusted with more responsibility by the artist, leading to a more substantial relationship.

As songs are increasingly composed with four-bar or eight-bar loop-based arrangements, the most important part of the process for me is making sure they don’t feel like separate blocks of music. They must transition smoothly from section to section, creating a compelling flow. (Of course, if the intention is to have cold, hard cuts before a new section, to create some sort of juxtaposition, then that should be understood upon listening, noted, and maintained in the song.) Without this sense of flow, the listener may become easily distracted, which could cause them to skip to a different song, seeking a connection they are yearning for, with or without realizing it. This is even more important in the digital streaming age, as an artist's success is increasingly dependent on having their songs featured on as many playlists as possible. If a song is skipped too many times before it ends, the algorithm within the digital streaming platform bumps its position later in the playlist, which could greatly compromise the song’s success. Our job as engineers is to mitigate the possibility of this happening.

Of course, engineers should possess extensive knowledge of method and technique, but this should be so thoroughly practiced and internalized that it effectively runs in the background, never impeding our ability to both engage directly with the music and empathize with the artist. The ultimate goal is always to create a compelling journey and arc across a song. Any technique – e.g., equalization, manipulation of dynamics, etc. – that helps achieve that goal can be employed, but only if its use is musically motivated. Over time, I’ve developed a more empathic approach to mixing that ensures I remain oriented toward the song, and that any technical decisions I make are justified by the music. 

Temporal Approach

We are all familiar with the three dimensions in regards to mixing: height, width, and depth. I’d like to add a fourth dimension to the conversation: time. I believe that understanding the narrative of the song is tantamount to understanding the song itself. 

Engineers tend to be overwhelmingly concerned with the sonic dimensions of music, i.e., the way it appears between the speakers. Of course, this is vital to everything we do. However, I think this preoccupation tends to distract us from the temporal dimension of music, which I argue is even more essential. An analogy to painting is helpful here. The canvas we’re working on is really time, not sound. Sound is the paint. I think it’s possible to do a good mix while attending only to the sonic dimensions of a song; but I think a great mix has to take the temporal dimension into account. 

I refer to this concept as the ‘temporal approach’ to mixing. It’s the practice of listening down from start to finish, and repeating this process until the mix is done. I spend most of my time while mixing just listening to the song from the beginning. When any aspect of the music strikes me as distracting or problematic, I assess it, do whatever it takes to fix it, then play the song over again from the top. The first time I’m able to listen through the entire song without stopping it, I’m confident the mix is near completion.

If we’re not continuously propelled by the arc while listening, how can we anticipate others will be?

‘Solo Mode’

I truly believe that in any mix, the lead vocal and one chordal element (e.g., guitar or keyboards) should be enough to hold the listener's interest. To achieve this, I lean heavily on what I call ‘solo mode’: I solo the lead vocal and the main chordal element(s) of the song and mix them until the vocal consistently holds my attention throughout. Only once this relationship has been addressed will I begin to add other elements in, one at a time, and place them in their own space. 

Our Relationship with the Process

The leadership position in the studio used to be helmed by a producer, but nowadays there may not be a producer in the room at all, at least not in the traditional sense. To clarify this distinction, we need to define the role of the producer. According to Wikipedia: 

"The producer typically supervises the entire process from pre-production, through to the sound recording and mixing stages, and, in some cases, all the way to the audio mastering stage. The producer may perform these roles themselves, or help select the engineer, and provide suggestions to the engineer. The producer may also pay session musicians and engineers and ensure that the entire project is completed within the record label's budget."

I would argue that if a ‘producer’ composes the instrumentation of the song, but does not supervise the entire process as the above definition describes, they are not the producer, per se, but a co-producer and/or programmer, composer, or songwriter. It is becoming more common for the role of producer to fall onto the plate of the engineer without their or the rest of the team being aware. Increasingly, the engineer, alongside the artist, is making decisions such as which parts of the vocal performance make the final recording, or which parts of the instrumentation need to be added, removed, or manipulated. By definition, this is the role of a producer – and it should be recognized and credited accordingly. 

To begin moving the needle on this issue, I believe we should educate engineers, as well as the industry, about how the engineer's role is evolving. It is up to the engineer to broadcast this message across the industry as well as to the artist. Engineers must also seek ways to build trusting relationships with the artist.

Maturing our Language

I often hear the following:

“Oh, so you just mixed that song?”

“You just engineered that?”

“You just recorded that?” 

I would argue that the word ‘just’ could be eliminated from our vocabulary completely. 

Sustainability in creativity relies on the perceived value of oneself and validation; whether we want to admit it or not, all humans require some level of validation. By diminishing any role in the creative process, we rob people of their capacity to give their best effort. Devaluing an individual is a poor form of motivation; empowering them will make for a better outcome. 

Conclusion

Engineering isn’t simply about equalization, dynamics, and technical details. Our success should be defined by how effectively the artist’s vision reaches the listener. The more self-aware we are, and the more we can identify with the artist, the higher our chances of building trustworthy relationships. We must respect the artist and their art; every word matters on both sides of this conversation — from the lyrics in a song, to the way we speak to each other.