Dynamic changes are equally important to the live performance of a musical piece as the notes, rhythm and instrumental choices. Allow me to preface this expression of opinion by enumerating particular personality traits that have influenced me in making some decisions affecting the direction of my career as an audio engineer.
First, I detest loud noises, especially booming, jolting or piercing sounds. For example, I love the visual aspect of fireworks, but the fierce concussion bombs make me absolutely cringe. Therefore, I usually watch Fourth of July celebrations from a respectable distance. Similarly, a backfiring car in the street will make me jump straight into the air.
Furthermore, I am driven into total distraction when a vehicle that has been transformed into a super bass-heavy boom box with wheels invades a publicly shared space with its grossly distorted and auditorially ugly intrusion into the ambient sound space. I also need to cover my ears when an ambulance, fire engine or police vehicle races past me with its siren blaring. And, no, I do not suffer from tinnitus. I have reacted in this defensive way to these types of loud, explosive and intrusive sounds my entire life. An ear doctor once told me I perceive sounds to be much louder than the average person. I believe him.
I am also not overly fond of large crowds. The enclosed and restricted feeling that accompanies being in a crush of people makes me rather edgy. I don’t easily tolerate traffic jams, overly crowded sidewalks or masses of people congregating together tightly in any space… especially at outdoor concert venues. It’s not that I don’t like people. I simply do much better in small groups that are occupying spaces with easy access and egress.
Additionally, I often get spatially disoriented when I can’t locate sources for individual sounds as they occur around me. If I am in a highly reverberant room full of people talking, and the resulting cacophony produces a swirling drone of random audio input, the overload on my sensory systems causes both dizziness and anxiety. To counteract this phenomenon, I find I have to concentrate on something very specific, like the show I am mixing, and then I am able to remain locked into the focus of my attention.
As a corollary to crowd-induced anxiety, I also do not easily tolerate confinement in many spaces. Sleeping in the coffin-like bunks of a tour bus has always been a psychological ordeal. On extended submarine rides, the tour bus eventually ceases to be my welcome place of refuge and respite. I find myself counting the minutes until we are refueling at a truck stop so that I can enjoy a brief period of liberation and privacy. Even my recent journey across the Atlantic on the massive RMS Queen Mary 2 became disquieting after the first three or four days. Thankfully, over these 36 years of touring, I have successfully learned methods of controlling the bouts of anxiety and have managed to maintain my equilibrium while on the road.
From the preceding description of maladies and symptoms, one might easily conclude that I probably chose poorly in becoming a touring FOH engineer. But I honestly believe that finding methods of establishing peace within myself has made me better at my job. Immersing myself in the task of mixing and striving to attain total concentration on the music makes the oppressive presence of the crowd disappear. Front of house becomes my little fortress of refuge and safety. While protected there, I am free to practice my art to the best of my ability while linked to the stage only by copper and fiber optic connections. I often refer to my work area as “Front of House Island” or “The Bubble.”
The SPL Issue
Although the independence and joy I have discovered in mixing has freed me from some restrictive idiosyncratic aversions, I do still actively seek to minimize my exposure to excessive and potentially damaging levels of volume. I have carefully chosen with considerable intention to work for artists whose performances are not characterized by huge SPL readings or do not require grossly unnatural distortions to the true sound of the instruments being played. I mean, have you really ever heard a commercial recording released on a CD with a kick drum ten times louder than any other instrument the band? My goal, as well as my preference, is to create a mix that most closely simulates being right there on stage with the musicians. If I were a painter, I suppose I would be a photo-realist.
My FOH mixing career began with The Doobie Brothers. Since those days, I have worked for Paul Simon over a span of 21 years, Steely Dan over a 12 year period, Lionel Richie over a similar length of time, Bette Midler across a 17-year stretch and Whitney Houston on her first three touring years. I am now in my tenth year with James Taylor and, at 65 years of age, I see no reason to slow down. My overall health, including my hearing, is quite good, and I definitely still love my work.
The common thread that runs through most tours where I have participated has been working with artists for whom the quality live performance is never measured by the rightward defection of a SPL meter. I have carefully chosen opportunities for expression of my art that feature great songwriting, iconic vocal performances and imaginatively implemented arrangements that require mixing with meticulous care and musical sensitivity. I am most attracted to music that requires me to achieve a state of audio transparency in order to best relay to the audience all of the nuance and subtlety being created from the stage.
Mixing with Dynamics
Dynamic changes are equally important to the live performance of a musical piece as the notes, rhythm and instrumental choices. Dynamic changes translate and transmit the purpose, energy and mood of a given piece of music and lead the audience along the emotional path envisioned by the composer and built by the performers. I try not to force obviously artificial dynamics on a piece of music, but I may gently exaggerate some changes to enhance the effect. Using the entire range of available volume of the audio system within a given performance space is for me an expression of freedom. As I said, I am drawn to open places.
If one mixes too loudly or with too much compression, the use of dynamics as a creative device is removed from the engineer’s hands. Excessive volume not only damages hearing, it adversely affects the listener’s ability to perceive changes by driving the ears of the audience into fatigue and compression. It is my belief that bludgeoning an audience with continuous and extreme loudness makes the playing field for an engineer smaller rather than larger. It leaves you nowhere to go. As I said, I don’t like to feel constrained.
It’s Okay to Say No!
I will share one final thought about my aversion to loud noises. I was once asked to mix the former lead singer of a famous California rock band on his first solo tour. An old friend of mine had been fired on the first day of rehearsal, and I guess I got the call because of geographical proximity. The band were incredibly good players and I decided to give it a shot to see if I could stay in undamaging aural territory. Through judicious use of EQ and compression, I have learned how to make a show sound much louder than it actually registers on a meter. I have often mixed FOH for Stevie Nicks and Joe Walsh, and I really do love working on a good rock show.
After the first couple of days, everyone connected with the tour loved what I was doing with the show, and it seemed I could make this gig work. All was good until the lead singer told me that he wanted the show to run at 118 dB all the time. I barely tolerated one day at horribly loud levels (still nowhere near 118) and was so adversely affected in a physical way that I became nauseous while driving home.
The next day I told the production manager that I would not be doing the tour. He told me I had to do it because I was the first FOH that Artist X had ever liked. I again gave my apologies, but he would simply not accept my resignation. I had no intention of killing my hearing and putting my future at risk. When the artist arrived at rehearsal, I went to the star’s dressing room and told him exactly what I thought about his position on the audio presentation. I may have also chosen to use some colorful language in my dissertation. He promptly fired me, at which point I said, “Thank you!” and went on my way. Problem solved.
