Start with the Record
When someone brings me a song, I want to understand what they already love about it. A rough mix carries decisions, sometimes in a strange balance, a rough edge, or a small detail that would be easy to clean away. I want to know what needs protecting before I start changing things.
I listen for where the attention goes, how the sections move, and what makes the performance feel like that person. A change can sound impressive by itself and still weaken the song. I want the whole record to work, including the parts that should stay slightly odd.
Stable on Purpose
After trying most of the major DAWs, I settled on REAPER, customized around the way I work. I use a Mac mini and an Omarchy desktop with a MOTU interface. A keyboard, mouse or trackpad, and Stream Deck suit me better than the desks and control surfaces I’ve tried.
I keep sessions organized as I go and choose plugins for sound, reliability, and sensible CPU use. Even the computer’s volume control earns its place. It gives me repeatable settings right at the keyboard. I want to act on an idea while it’s still in my head.
A Room I Know
My main speakers are Avantone CLA-10A, connected straight to MOTU. I use REW measurements to guide their level and tone controls. For listening from the sofa, I have Dutch & Dutch 8c speakers, set up with the maker’s REW guidance and fed over AES/EBU from my Dante setup.
I’ve worked through several immersive setups, including a mixed 7.1.4 system used for a feature film. That experience taught me the value of knowing my room. I aim for a reference I can trust and use consistently. I’ve spent enough time chasing the next speaker. Good enough gives me room to get on with the work.
A Claim Needs a Check
A vintage faceplate, a higher price, or a favorite record in the advertising tells me very little about what a tool will do for this song. I care about the result and how directly I can reach it. A plain interface is fine. So is an emulation, if it helps.
When a small difference matters, a fair comparison matters too. Matching levels and hiding the labels can help separate what I hear from what I expect. A listening test also has limits. One result is a reason to investigate, not permission to declare that every tool sounds the same.
An Empty Mix Bus
I mix entirely in the computer and leave my stereo mix bus unprocessed. I work on the relationships between tracks until the record holds together, then hand the final processing to a mastering engineer I trust. That division suits how I listen and make decisions.
I want to understand what each move is doing. Shaping a sound with compression and placing it with level automation are different decisions. If one word or instrument is causing trouble, that’s where I look first. Mastering brings another person’s judgment to the finished mix, and I value that perspective.
The Performance Comes First
Tracking is part of production for me. Choosing a microphone, moving it, or changing the way someone hears themselves can change the take. I enjoy the equipment here because it gives us something to try together. The person performing still needs room to settle in and make choices.
Vienna Synchron Stage, sessions in my own room, live recordings, and production sound have all shaped how I work. Each situation asks for different kinds of attention. I bring those lessons with me, then listen to the people in front of me.
Why before How
I read manuals and study methods that have worked for other people. I try them, work out the problem they solve, and adapt them to my own sessions. Knowing the reason makes a technique useful when the next project turns out to be different.
I have strong preferences. I also want to know when they stop helping. A measurement, a collaborator’s explanation, or something I hear can change my mind. I’d rather ask another question than defend a habit just because I’ve had it for years.
Room for a Wrong Turn
An organized session lets me work quickly when time is tight. When there’s room, I like taking the slower route. An awkward sound or an unexpected take can lead somewhere I would never have planned. I want enough command of the process to recognize that moment and follow it.
Classical training gave me a grounding in harmony and voice leading. I still use that knowledge when I write, including when I bend a rule. Details are fun, but I keep checking what they do to the song. Being clever is a poor reason to keep a part.
People in the Room
I want to work with people who put time into their own craft. Their ideas can surprise me, and their disagreements can make me reconsider mine. A good collaboration gives us a record neither of us would have arrived at alone. I care about that relationship as much as the session.
I don’t use AI to write, perform, produce, or mix music. I use it for repetitive office work, including file organization, schedules, and documents. That lets me spend more of my attention on the music and the people making it.
The Wider Frame
Music belongs to a time, a place, and the people around it. Clothes, makeup, images, color, typography, and language all shape how a record reaches someone. I pay attention to history and to what’s happening now because those things are already in the room when we make music.
The cultural side keeps me curious. I want to understand why a sound means something to an artist, who they’re speaking to, and what they’re trying to put into the world. That conversation can be just as useful as another hour adjusting the mix.