A few years ago, while bouncing around from studio to studio mixing various projects, I noticed something with the various other people working in the other rooms of these facilities: some mix engineers just don’t listen anymore.

I’m not talking about listening to the client, I’m talking about listening to the song.

There was a point in my life where music had to fit a certain criteria for it to be “good”.  The criteria were hardly anything artistic, other then loud, aggressive, and discordant.

As I grew older and became an engineer, I never gave much thought to other genres or styles of music. I was basically a close-minded Ebenezer Scrooge about music.

Looking back on this time period of my life, I can now see that I even lacked the skill or desire to listen to a song appropriately.

Not caring about such trivial matters as “the meaning of a song”, I set out on my path to become an engineer. Along the way I landed a gig working for a once-famous band. 

Being young and naïve, I thought little of the band’s musical statement and more about just doing the work. I completed the project, a cover song for a small film’s soundtrack, with speed and ease. 

Little did I know that I was soon to embark on a life changing adventure. 

A few days after, the guitar player calls me and wants to get a few beers and hang out. So there I sit, young, stupid, and across the table from the local hero. We put down a few beers and I proceed to get another gig. (“Hey, this guy likes me, and I’m about to mix a full-length record.”)

I showed up at the studio the next day to begin the project, and over the course of the next week, I proceeded to ruin a man’s dream. It wasn’t until months later that I really realized how badly I had destroyed that record.

The strange thing is that we became best friends (I’ll call this guy Rick). We were practically inseparable. This relationship is what would change my life forever.

Rick is a truly inspired musician, with an ability to connect to music in a way I had never seen before. He can truly communicate an emotion through music, and he could pick up on one in an instant.

This was something I thought I was good at - but nope. 

Rick and I would spend hours in the studio listening to all sorts of music. He would force me to verbally break a song down. Explain the core idea, discuss what would motivate a person to write a song like that, and so on.

I became a sponge, and couldn’t wait to get to the studio so we could talk about music. I had always thought my high school years were going to be the best musical exploration time in my life, but this was like a drug. I was a slave to it.

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