The Silent Conversations on a Loud Stage

I recently had lunch with a talented musician friend of mine. We have shared quite a few years of shows on various stages where I mixed monitors for him. Our conversation shifted towards the mindset behind our careers; specifically the experience of being a monitor engineer. I do not claim to be the best monitor engineer. However, as the years past and I reflect on the experiences I have been so fortunate to have, I notice patterns. I want to begin to distill these patterns of my experience into concise thoughts that serve as a reflection journal for my future self. I also hope this can serve as a resource for those who are looking for some insight into my career. Today, I would like to speak more informally about what I think about what my job is.

The question for today: “What do I think it means for Space Bear to be a good monitor engineer?”

Unlike the roll of Front-of-House, monitor engineers live in an isolated environment. This is especially true for those who are only running in-ear monitors without any form of wedges or side-fills. To the outside person, the role of monitors can be understood as simply responding to whatever the band asks. “Turn up my vocal, turn down bass, etc…” It seems so simple, and yet band members will have a much different response to their mix when I am behind the desk. Again, I am not claiming to be the best mixer. I could give you a laundry list of people who are better mixers than I am. My point is that I think there is more to it than just the mix.

My favorite part about being a monitor engineer is the moments when the band member starts to try to communicate something to you, but before they can do so, they stop because they realize you have already done it. This is probably the closest I will ever get to reading minds.

How do you get this power?

Despite my lack of telepathic powers, one of my strengths is inferring. To infer is to draw a conclusion or make a prediction based on evidence and reasoning. Sadly, the ability to infer is not a skill that you can learn overnight. It takes a combination of knowledge and experience. It takes failures, hard gigs, and every so often, a show-stopping moment.

Another term that goes well with inferring is initiative. I hear frequently that employers are continually looking for employees with initiative. People that can assess and initiate actions and solutions independently of direct instruction are valuable. I am constantly looking for a way to be able to infer a potential problem and then take initiative to solve it even before it becomes a problem.

Combined, these two words can set you down a path to unlock a level of telepathic power with your band.

Let me give you an example:

I was mixing an event where one of the songs had a complicated arrangement. There was a mix of big band moments as well as a choir throughout. There were also some BGV tracks happening in key moments. For the most part, the band usually keeps these BGV tracks pretty low, as they are not super relevant to their individual mixes. As we reached the bridge of the song, the keys player/musical director looked at me and motioned for me to turn up the BGV tracks in his mix. Of course, I immediately started to turn them up. However, in turning them up, I instinctively made two key decisions. 1) Since he could only tell me he wanted them up, and not by how much, I am actively listening to his mix to turn them up only as much as is required to just barely hear them within the mix because 2) I inferred that he only actually needed to reference where in the song the BGV tracks were to make sure they were on the grid. In this moment, he did not want more BGV tracks to have more BGV tracks. He needed them to make sure they were correct in this complicated arrangement.

Initiative and inference are key, but what about the moments when a band member is actually asking for a specific change? I want to challenge this idea for a moment. I find it quite interesting that in a broad sense, we expect musicians to inherently understand how to mix their ears properly. We expect them to be able to tell us what they want. It is even more common now when budget is a factor. There are iPad-controlled consoles where the band members mix their ears themselves. I am not saying that these are not completely understandable solutions. In fact, they are incredible feats of technology. Though, I do find it interesting that there are so many resources teaching musicians how to play their instrument, and no one teaching them how to build a mix to be able to perform that instrument live.

As a monitor engineer who has dedicated his career to refining this idea of a mix meant for performing, I strive to be more than just a reactionary position. I want to be able to translate the emotions and feelings of the musician on stage into what they want to hear. Everyone has their own preferred taste. There is no one size fits all mix. Being a good monitor engineer takes psychological insight.

I will give you another example:

I was working with a very talented bass player. He is soft-spoken but has years of experience both playing and producing. He made a comment to me that his mix felt dull. It wasn’t exciting. He said, “I need to feel it. I want it to hurt a little but, you know?” Sonically, I had no issues with how it sounded, so how should I respond? Clearly, I do not want to actually hurt him. Especially with in ears, I definitely have the power to create real damage to someone’s hearing, and being careful is the utmost priority. Sure, I could turn it up, but so can he with the volume on his pack. I decided that since we were in a good place with the mix, and it needed a bit more excitement, I would add some saturation. I enjoy using the tube emulation in DiGiCo quite often. In fact, it was already on a good portion of the inputs and on the mixes. My solution in this moment was to embrace the natural compression that comes from driving a tube circuit harder. The mix was fine, he just wanted more excitement. Sure enough, he was incredibly happy with the result. Maybe there were other ways to accomplish the same result, but this is the route I chose and it worked.

I know there are so many scenarios with many different approaches from talented monitor engineers. Given the above situations, I am sure the greatest monitor engineers of all time may have responded differently. Regardless, these are the lessons I am learning.