Music: an extremely short introduction

You love music. All of us are mixing because music is one of our greatest passions, if not the greatest. Whether starting as a songwriter, bedroom producer, performer, or studio tea boy, we were all introduced to mixing through our love of music and the desire to take part in its creation.

Modern technology dictates, to some extent at least, how we go about our life: we watch more and read less, we message more and talk less, we look at our smartphones more and less at one another. As far as music is concerned, new technologies have provided new opportunities, increased reach, and improved quality. The invention of the wax cylinder, radio transmission, tapes, CDs, software plugins, iTunes, smartphones, and Spotify has made music more readily accessible, widely consumed, and easier to create. One of mankind’s most influential inventions—the Internet—is perhaps music today’s greatest catalyst. Nowadays, a computer or a smartphone is all one needs to browse, listen to, and purchase music. Music is universal and all-encompassing. It is in our living rooms, in our cars, in malls, on our televisions, and in hairdressing salons.

There is a strong bond between music and mixing (other than the obvious connection that music is what’s being mixed), and to understand it we should start by discussing the not-too-distant past. History teaches us that in the Western world, sacred music was very popular until the nineteenth century, with most compositions commissioned for religious purposes. Secular music has evolved throughout the years, but changed drastically with the arrival of Beethoven. At the time, Beethoven was daring and innovative, but it was the way that his music made people feel that changed the course of music so dramatically. Ernest Newman once wrote about Beethoven’s symphonies:

We can easily identify with this when we think about modern music—there is no doubt it can have a huge impact on us. Following Beethoven, music became a love affair between two willing individuals—the artist and the listener—fueled by what is today an inseparable part of music: emotions.

Today, music rarely fails to trigger emotions—all but a few pieces of music have some sort of mental or physical effect on us. “Killing in the Name” by Rage Against the Machine can trigger a feeling of rage or rebellious anger. Others find it hard to remain stationary when they hear “Hey Ya!” by OutKast. Music can turn a bad morning into a good one. Music can also trigger sad or happy memories, and so the same good morning can turn into a more retrospective afternoon after hearing Albinoni’s “Adagio” (which goes to show that it’s not just emotive lyrics that affect us).

As we shall soon see, our response to music mostly stems from our unconscious mind. Yet, we sometimes deliberately listen to music in order to incite a certain mood—some listen to ABBA as a warm-up for a night out, others to Iggy Pop. Motion-picture directors understand well how profoundly music can affect us and how it can be used to solicit certain emotional responses from the audience. We all know what kind of music to expect when a couple fall in love or when the shark is about to attack; it would be a particular genre of comedy that used “YMCA” during a funeral scene.

As mixing engineers, one of our prime functions, which is actually our responsibility, is to help deliver the emotional context of a musical piece. From the general mix plan to the smallest reverb nuances, the tools we use—and the way we use them—can all sharpen and even create power, aggression, softness, melancholy, psychedelia, and many other moods. Mostly, it would make little sense to distort the drums on a mellow love song, just as it would not be right to soften the beat of a hip-hop production. When approaching a new mix, we may ask ourselves:

• What is this song about?
• What emotions are involved?
• What message is the artist trying to convey?
• How can I support and enhance the song’s vibe?
• How should the listener respond to this piece of music?

As basic as this idea might seem, it is imperative to comprehend—it is emotions that gel the music and mix together, not technical excellence.

The role and importance of the mix

A basic definition of mixing is: a process in which multitrack material—whether recorded, sampled, or synthesized—is balanced, treated, and combined into a multichannel format (most commonly, two-channel stereo). But a less technical definition would be: a sonic presentation of emotions, creative ideas, performance, and musicianship.

Even for the layperson, sonic quality does matter. Take talking on a cellphone, for example —people find it annoying when background noise masks the other party. Intelligibility is the most elementary requirement when it comes to sonic quality, but it goes far beyond that. Some new cellphone models with integrated speakers are no better than playback systems from the 1950s. It is no wonder that people prefer listening to music via their kitchen’s mini-system or the living room hi-fi. What would be the point of more expensive hi-fi systems if the sound quality were no better than a cellphone speaker?

Sonic quality is also a powerful selling point. It was a major contributor to the rise of the CD and the fall of compact cassettes. Novice classical music listeners often favor new recordings over older, monophonic ones, regardless of how acclaimed the performance on these early recordings is. Record companies issue digitally remastered versions of classic albums that allegedly sound better than the originals. The once-ubiquitous iPod owed much of its popularity to the MP3 format—no other lossy compression format has managed to produce audio files so small, yet of an acceptable sonic quality.

It is our responsibility as mixing engineers to craft the sonic aspects of the final mix. This involves how different instruments combine, but also how each sounds—the sum and its parts. Let us consider for a moment the differences between studio and live recordings. During a live concert, there are no second chances. You are unable to rectify sloppy performance or a buzz from a faulty DI box. Both the recording equipment and the environment are inferior compared with those found in most studios—it would be unreason able to place Rihanna in front of a U87 and a pop shield during a live show. Also, when a live recording is mixed on location, a smaller and cheaper arsenal of mixing equipment is used. All of these constraints could result in different instruments suffering from masking, poor definition, erratic dynamics, and deficient frequency response, to name just a few possible problems. Audio terms aside, these can translate into a barely audible bass guitar, honky lead vocals that come and go, a kick that lacks power, and cymbals that lack spark. Altogether, these can make a live recording less appealing. A studio recording is not immune to such problems, but in most cases it provides much better raw material to work with, and, in turn, better mixes. With all this in mind, the true art of mixing is far more than just making things sound right …

Many people are familiar with Kurt Cobain, Dave Grohl, and Krist Novoselic as the band members of Nirvana, who back in 1991 changed the face of alternative rock with the release of Nevermind. The name Butch Vig might ring a bell for some, but the general public will be unlikely to have heard of Andy Wallace. The front cover of my Kill Bill DVD makes it extremely difficult to ignore Tarantino’s writer and director credits. But it is seldom that an album cover credits the producer, let alone the mixing engineer. Arguably, the production of Dr. Dre can be just as important as the artists he produces, and perhaps Nevermind would have never been such an enormous success had it not been for Andy Wallace’s mixes. Nevertheless, record labels generally see very little marketing potential in production personnel. Ironically, major record companies do part with large sums of cash in order to have a specific engineer mix an album because they all realize that:

To understand why, one may wish to compare Butch Vig’s and Andy Wallace’s mixes for Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” (both can easily be found online through streaming services).

Both Vig and Wallace used the same raw tracks; yet their mixes are distinctly different. Vig’s mix entails some unbalanced frequency spectrum that involves masking and the absence of spark; a few mixing elements, such as the snare reverb, are easily discernible. Wallace’s mix is burnished and balanced; it boasts high definition and perfect separation between instruments; the ambiance is present, but like many mixing elements it is subtle.

Perhaps the most important difference between the two mixes is that Vig’s mix sounds more natural (more like a live performance), while Wallace’s mix sounds more artificial. It is not equipment, time spent, or magic tricks that made these two mixes so dissimilar— it is simply the different sonic visions of Vig and Wallace. Vig has opted for the real and organic, whereas Wallace, a sonic alchemist who was perfecting his polishing skills at the time, combined every aspect of this powerful song into an extremely appealing masterpiece, albeit not a live-sounding one. Like many other listeners, Gary Gersh—Geffen Records’ A&R—liked it better.

Straight after recording Nevermind, it was Vig that started mixing the album. Having spent countless hours listening to the same songs while recording them, it is common for a producer to wear out and develop sonic biases. A tight schedule and some artistic disagreements with Cobain left everyone (including Vig) feeling that it would be wise to bring fresh ears in to mix the album. From the bottom of the prospective engineers list, Cobain chose Wallace, mostly due to his mixing credits for Slayer. Despite Nirvana approving the mixes, following Nevermind’s extraordinary success, Cobain complained that the overall sound of Nevermind was too slick—perhaps suggesting that Wallace’s mixes were too listener-friendly for his somewhat anarchic and unrefined taste. Artistic disagreements are something engineers come across often, especially if they ignore the artist’s musical values. Yet, some suggested that Cobain’s retroactive complaint was only a mis-targeted reaction to the massive success and sudden fame the album brought. Not only did Nevermind leave its mark on music history; it also left a mark on mixing history— its sonic legacy, a part of what is regarded as the Wallace sound, is still heavily imitated today. As testament to Wallace’s skill, Nevermind has aged incredibly well and still impresses despite enormous advances in mixing technology.

Seldom do we have the opportunity to compare different mixes of the same song. The 10th anniversary edition of The Holy Bible by the Manic Street Preachers allows us to compare an entire album. The package contains two versions of the album—the UK release was mixed by Mark Freegard and the US one by Tom Lord Alge. There is some similarity here to the Vig vs. Wallace case, where Freegard’s mixes are cruder and drier compared with the livelier, brighter, and more defined mixes of Alge. In the included DVD, the band comments on the differences between the mixes, saying that for most tracks Alge’s mixes better represented their artistic vision. Arguably, neither version features exceptional mixes (most likely due to poor recording quality in a cheap facility), but the analytical comparison between the two is worthwhile.

The two examples above teach us how a good mix can sharpen the emotional message of a musical piece, make it more appealing to the listener, and boost commercial success. Conversely, a bad mix can negatively affect a potentially great production and significantly impair its chance of success. This is not only relevant for commercial releases. The price and quality of today’s DAWs enable unsigned artists and bedroom producers—with enough talent and vision—to craft mixes that are of an equal standard to commercial mixes. For quite some time now, A&Rs are receiving demos of a respectable mix quality. Just as a studio manager might filter through a pile of CVs and eliminate candidates based on poor presentation, an A&R might dismiss a demo for its poor mix.

Mixing engineers know what a dramatic effect mixing can have on the final product. With the right amount of effort, even the poorest recording can be made appealing. Yet, there are a few things we cannot do; for example: correct a truly bad performance, compensate for a very poor production, or alter musical ideas. If the piece does not have potential to begin with, it will fail to impress the listener, no matter how noteworthy the mix is.

The perfect mix

It doesn’t take much experience before the novice mixer can begin to recognize problems in a mix. For instance, we quickly learn to identify vocals that are too quiet or a deficient frequency response. We will soon see that, once a mix is problem-free, there are still many things we can do in order to make it better. The key question is: What is better?

At this point, I recommend an exercise called excerpt set (Figure 1.1)—an essential mixing experiment. It takes around half an hour to prepare, but provides a vital mixing lesson. The excerpt set is very similar to a DJ set, except each track plays for around 20 seconds and you do not have to beat-match. Simply pull around 20 albums from your music library, pick a single track from each, and import it into your audio sequencer. Then trim a random excerpt of 20 seconds from each track and arrange the excerpts consecutively. It is important to balance the perceived level of all excerpts, and cross-fade them. Now listen to your set, beginning to end, and notice the differences between the mixes. You are very likely to identify great differences between all the mixes. You might also learn that mixes you thought were good are not as good when played before or after another mix. While listening, try to note mixes that you think overpower others. This exercise will help develop a heightened awareness of what a good mix is and why.

Most of us do not have a permanent sonic standard stored in our brains, so a mix is only better or worse than the previously played mix. The very same mix can sound dull compared with one mix but bright compared with another. (With experience, we develop the ability to critically assess mixes without the need for a reference, although usually only in a familiar listening environment.) In addition, our auditory system has a very quick settle-in time, and it becomes accustomed to different sonic qualities so long as these remain constant for a while. In essence, all our senses work that way—a black-and-white scene in a color movie is more noticeable than the lack of color on a black-and-white TV. The reason why the excerpt set is such an excellent tool for revealing differences is that it does not give the brain a chance to settle in to a particular style. When mixes are played in quick succession, we can more easily perceive the sonic differences between them.

Different engineers have different ideas and mix in different environments, and therefore produce different mixes. Our ears are able to tolerate radical differences as long as mixes are not heard in quick succession. It is hard to find two albums that share an identical sound because different genres are mixed differently—jazz, heavy metal, and trance will rarely share the same mixing philosophy; different songs involve different emotions and therefore call for different soundscapes; and the quality and nature of the raw tracks vary between projects. But we shouldn’t forget that each mixing engineer is an artist in their own right, and each has different visions and ideas about what’s best. Asking what is a perfect mix is like asking who is the best writer that ever lived, or who was the greatest basketball player of all time—it is all down to subjective opinion.

Figure 1.1 Excerpt set. This sequence of 20-second excerpts from various productions is used as an important comparison tool between mixes.