MIX ANTI-THEORY

Got a favourite mix theory that you like to tell people about when you’re working in the studio? Bin it.

Mix theories are developed by people of all musical persuasions, levels of experience and notoriety. They impinge on our space from every angle, theorising about everything from the highly technical to the downright nonsensical. Their techniques, best practises and ‘solutions’ are ubiquitous; you only need to go to YouTube to discover literally millions of them.

But why do we listen to the mixing theories of others? What part of our own musical journey involves the desire to gather knowledge in this way? Presumably this searching – which perhaps is the case with almost any learning – is inspired by the belief that we can learn something from others by adopting, adapting, or absorbing external experiences and repurposing them in our own work. There’s some truth to this of course. The history of recorded music is littered with countless examples of it – we all learn something from others.

But to what extent can we absorb the complex thoughts, processes, likes and dislikes of other mix engineers when we’re utterly removed from their musical context (and clearly not privy to their internal musings)?

We’re not mixing their song with their tools and preferences in mind, we’re mixing ours, in a whole different context with our own skills, likes and dislikes in play. Why would we ever consider replacing our own ideas with a wild prediction of what Joe Bloggs might do to our mix if he were in our seat?

In a mix session, it’s generally unhelpful to imagine what another mix engineer might do based on what you may have heard them say in an interview. Moreover, taking another engineer’s specific instructions literally – on how a vocal should be EQ’d, or how long a reverb should be on a snare drum, or which elements to parallel-compress to achieve the ‘perfect’ mix – is farcical. If you’re listening to people who tell you things like that you should run a mile.

No engineer steeped in the art of mixing will ever tell you specifically what to do, because it’s utter nonsense to suggest that there’s a ‘perfect’ compression ratio for kick drums, a failsafe approach to mixing R&B, the ‘right tone’ for guitars, or a ‘best’ technique that applies in every circumstance. People who make these sorts of claims are simply pushing their own barrow. I mean, even Google Maps gives you alternatives on how to get from A to B… on a road network, where the path to your destination is literally set in concrete! Imagine how many alternative routes there are when there are no roads…

Mixing is a creative process, with no defined map. When you embark on a mix, often you start without even knowing the destination: you travel on your own path, and when you ‘arrive’, there’s not even a signpost to prove it.

Are we there yet? Who knows.

Sound Is Complex, Language Around Sound Is Not

As is perhaps evident from the very terms I’m using here, language is largely incapable of defining sonic imagery in even the most rudimentary ways. Even if expertly deployed, words are inadequate at elucidating the infinitely complex nature of sound, preferences of taste, musical likes and dislikes and so on. You only need to look at how often someone describes something as sounding ‘warm’ to know that. Warm means nothing.

So how then does a famous mix engineer impart his or her wisdom onto you in any meaningful way, other than by having you listen to examples of their work? They can describe techniques, divulge what gear they use, and even what signal chains they deploy on certain instruments, but I am yet to discover anyone who can describe to you how their inner thought processes work during a mix.

By speaking about their experiences, mix engineers are far less likely to provide you with priceless information about how a mix works than they are to confuse you with vague theories of what made a particular instrument sound great (to them), in a mix that they may have created decades ago (that’s not yours).

A mix engineer is not, by default, a linguist or a philosopher, and even if they were, the chances of them describing the art of mixing to you in enlightening terms is on the anorexic side of slim.

I’m not suggesting that there’s nothing to be gained by listening to a conversation with your favourite mix engineer on YouTube, or indeed, by having that chat in person given the opportunity – of course there are benefits to that. But be aware that there’s a great deal of hidden text lurking behind these sorts of conversations (maybe you’ll buy their plug-ins) and if you’re not careful, what you’ll find yourself absorbing, along with some anecdotes and a technique or two, are a pile of theories that, when deployed yourself later, will do your mix more harm than good.

Mixdown (Fall) Theory

In short, nothing threatens a mix quite like a theory, whether it be your own or someone else’s. They impose unconscious intellectual barriers against listening that are often ill-conceived or inappropriate.

Statements like: “You should always keep bass guitars dry in a mix,” or “I never use mix bus compression because any compression that’s laid across a whole mix is bad compression.” All these theories do is paint you into a corner.

The way mixing is described by language, written or verbal, can be a fast-track to a deep misunderstanding of what you’re hoping to achieve when you sit in front of a stereo image (or inside an immersive one). Words can trick you, deceive you, and sometimes convince you that what you’re doing is the ‘wrong’ thing or a ‘bad’ thing. And by the way, don’t think for a moment that you’re immune from deluding yourself. We all do it.

Words like ‘good’ and ‘bad,’ ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ are moral terms. We’re not talking about ethics here, we’re mixing music, so how and where do these terms apply? And while we’re on the subject, consider the idea of the ‘perfect’ mix. The perfect mix is about as meaningless a term as the ‘warmth’ of tape. Give a multitrack recording to all the engineers on YouTube who claim to have the ‘perfect’ compression setting for vocals and all the latest plug-ins to smooth ‘bad’ resonances and they will all achieve a different result. QED: mixing is, by definition, a subjective artform, and these people are selling snake oil out the back of their bedroom studio for their benefit, not yours.

When you find yourself using terms like ‘bad’ etc – and if you’re like me you always will – don’t beat yourself up about it, just be mindful that it happens and aware that this sort of language can unconsciously bias your impression of a mix.

Techniques, Not Theories

What matters most when you’re learning the art of mixing is mastering the art of deep listening while simultaneously developing techniques that can turn your ideas – the ones sparked by your imagination, not someone else’s – into reality. Imagining a sound is one thing, knowing how to transpose your ideas into a sonic ingredient and deliver that into the ears of listeners, is quite another.

Learning how audio gear works, whether software or hardware, digital or analogue, is critically important. It takes considerable amounts of time training your ear about how compressors, plug-ins, mics and speakers, rooms and consoles all work. No-one knows it all, not by a long shot, and with the amount of gear hitting the market these days, no- one ever will.

But ironically, for all the social media networks out there that allow us to share information, and for all the new gear that can in some cases perform sonic feats that were beyond the scope of only last year’s technology, let alone last century’s, music has tended to grow narrower and more generic. Not at the fringes, mind you. There’s some amazing work being done out there. But at the centre, mixes are growing more generic as everyone shares techniques, uses the same pre-recorded drum sounds, and tries to conform in genre-specific ways. While new software (and some hardware) grows in capacity, the parameters of our mixes seem to be narrowing, almost like we’re shrinking under the weight of a collapsing star.

But if this metaphor has any validity to it, the next thing that’s going to happen is that the music industry is going to explode – outwards. When that happens, artisans out there who have focussed on their own techniques and developed their own sound, consciously or otherwise, will be pushed into the light. Music styles and forms can only collapse inward for so long…

So I urge everyone reading this to consider your own development, by calculating how many hours you’re spending watching YouTube or posting on forums, and using at least some of that time to sit on your own at the helm of your mixing setup and explore sounds in ways that haven’t been suggested to you by someone else.

What’s the point in the end of trying to sound like everyone else particularly when you’re trying to make yourself heard?

Do you really think the best approach to standing out from a crowd of millions, all of whom are wearing red shirts, is to wear a red shirt?

Do yourself a favour, wear something else.

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Andy Stewart owns and operates The Mill in the hills of Bass Coast Shire, Victoria. He’s happy to respond to any pleas for recording, mixing or mastering help… contact him at: andy@themill.net.au