Category Archives: Other Things

An Open Letter To Event Planners

We need to be more clear with each other about what it takes to do things the right way.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

Dear Event Planners,

My name is Danny Maland, and I’m what would commonly be called “a sound guy.” A/V. An audio human. Show crew. That kind of thing. I’d like to take a moment to address an issue that has caused me some problems over the years. I don’t know if it’s trending towards worse or better, but as a person with an engineering mindset, I usually pick “assume the worst” and go with it.

Now, before you mentally check out, please be assured that I’m going to stay away from snarky finger-pointing here. We’re all on the same team, and actually, I think that production has not always been good at being on the same team with you. My feeling is that we spend lots of time failing to explain our needs to you, and so assumptions get built that lead to poor outcomes. With that on the table, let me lay out the crux or nexus of this whole thing:

When it comes to the spacetime continuum, production needs a lot of it. A lot of all of it – both space and time.

There’s a significant amount of pressure out there to compress both schedules and square footage. Time is money, space is money, and both together are a lot more money. Clients like to save money, and so do I, but value-engineering live music is not something I can recommend. Any show, even one that is a repeat performance, is itself a singular event that can never be repeated. All of us have exactly one chance to get it right, and squeezing anything that supplies the endeavor (space, time, electrical power, etc.) increases the chance of a trainwreck.

You don’t want that, and neither do we.

As an event planner, I’m going to guess that you like specifics. So here are some for you to consider about space and time.

1) If you’re going to have a full band with pro-production at an event, please consider a 20 foot wide by 20 foot deep area (or about 37 square meters total) to be the bare minimum space for it all to happen inside. I know that some people will say, “That’s overkill!” but I really do mean this. Bands that are forced to be right on top of each other don’t perform to their full potential, and close quarters makes for mic-to-mic bleed that hampers a good mix. Feedback also becomes a real pain when the performers are in very close proximity to the PA system. Yes, some permanent venues have a smaller area to work with, but remember that we may be bringing everything with us. We don’t have the ability to do a fully maximized and tweaked install at the drop of a hat. We need cushion, especially when we’ve just loaded in and everything is spread out.

2) For scheduling, please have any production that’s self-contained with the music set to arrive a minimum of four hours prior to soundcheck. If you’re in a situation with no real loading dock, add another hour or two. We need lots of time to set and tune, especially when the space is one we’ve never been in before. You might think you want us to “throw and go,” but that’s not going to get you great results. I’ve gotten lucky on plenty of throw and goes, but not so lucky on others. I don’t think you want your event to be a luck-based mission. That’s too much uncertainty with too much money and reputation on the line.

The client may push on these things. The event space may try to get you to cut down. Please stand firm! We need your help to get this right.

So, that’s it. Let’s be sure to uncompress everything and work towards better results. Like I said, we’re all in this together. Our success is your success, so let’s work as a team to produce amazing things.

Best regards,

Danny


On Stages

A stage should be just high enough, should have plenty of surrounding clearance, and should be quiet.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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I don’t often get questions via the Small Venue Survivalist Facebook Page, but when I do, I’m tickled. I mean, I’m being told explicitly what someone wants me to write about! No guessing! Who wouldn’t like that?

This is what made its way to my inbox, not too long ago:

“I was wondering if you would be interested in writing an article about the stage area in small venues (construction materials, elevation from the ground, surrounding area etc.)”

Why, yes. Yes I would be interested. What happens on stage is THE success or failure point on any show, anywhere, with any band, at anytime. This means that the stage itself is a critical component of the gig; Get it wrong, and the equation can tip entirely away from any chance of success. Get it right, and everything is so much easier and fun. So, what do I want to see in a stage? Well…

Code

First of all, compliance with local building codes and regulations is paramount. I can’t tell you what those rules are, because I’m not in your location. Do your homework, ask lots of questions, and cut no corners in the area of making your local inspector happy. Work with those people BEFORE you put a bunch of time, effort, and money into anything, or it’s likely that you will be very unhappy later.

Construction Materials

Quality is king. This doesn’t mean that a stage can never be built of salvaged or recycled bits. It DOES mean that whatever is being used must be in good shape. No rot, no rust, no cracks, no holes, nothing that would compromise structural integrity. This is very important for the #1 consideration, which is always safety. If it seems like it might be able to collapse, it probably will – there are plenty of stages that do NOT seem like they’re about to go to pieces, and yet they do.

Second, anything you build needs to be rigid and “dead.” Stages have impulse responses, just like rooms, mics, and loudspeakers. You want that impulse response to be as small and short as possible, so that when someone smacks a kick drum, plays through an amp, or listens to a monitor sitting on the deck, they are not also hearing the vibration of the stage. You can accomplish this with lighter materials and structural design for bracing and decoupling, or through heftier components that just don’t move much by nature. What you choose will depend on your needs and budget. My “dream stage” for sonics is either giant slabs of reinforced concrete, or cinderblocks filled with concrete. However, a system of well-braced wooden platforms with some sound-deadening sandwiching between the frame and top, plus carpet sitting above it all is entirely doable, far more modular, and workable with more accessible tools.

…and yes, I do encourage carpet. It discourages drums and other objects from moving around, with the handy benefit of absorbing some reflections. Shag, or other thick, loose piles aren’t the way to go, though. You want a tough surface that’s easy to clean and repellent to liquid.

Whatever you do, make sure to try it at a small scale first, to see what problems there are. Expect those problems to multiply as the scale grows larger.

Elevation

A stage that’s too low makes for sight lines that get blocked easily. Stages that are too high, though, have their own problems. Taller stages need more extensive ramps and stairs for accessibility, which means you lose usable area to the “padding” necessary for those considerations. You also want to stay away from overhead structures, especially untreated ceilings, because the closer you are to a reflector, the more gain-before-feedback problems you’ll have in monitor world. (Onstage intelligibility will also suffer, plus there’s that whole feeling of being in cramped quarters…)

With all that on the table, my advice is to go no higher than you must go for decent sight lines. The more clear height over your performers, the happier you are likely to be in an acoustical sense, and the elevation-changing ancillaries (like ramps and stairs) will be easier to handle. In any case, stage elevations above 21 inches (about 53 cm) aren’t something I recommend unless you have plenty of clear height, ample surrounding space, and a strong stomach for putting in safety lips and rails.

Surrounding Areas

As I hinted at above, forcing yourself to “pad” your stage area with a lot of extra surrounding space isn’t a great idea. You usually run out of room before you can get what you need. However, including that padding voluntarily IS a good plan. Lots of room to store band equipment and “dead” cases is very convenient, especially on multi-act gigs, and people love easy stairs and shallow ramps for getting on and off the deck. Too little padding means that getting up and down becomes treacherous and tiring, due to the abruptness of the elevation change. If you can choose to surround your stage with at least three feet (about 1 meter) of extra space, I recommend it.


Why It’s Sometimes Hard To Write For This Thing

Eventually you start saying to yourself, “We’ve covered that already.”

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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Please don’t panic. This isn’t one of those “goodbye posts” where an author says, “I love you guys, but I’m out. It’s time to spearfish in Guatemala for three years and be closer to my family. After the spearfishing. We’re not all going. My youngest has this allergy…”

But you have probably noticed that the action has slowed down around these parts. It comes down to two things, really. The first factor is being busier. I have another job, which is contract-based software engineering. It’s fantastic, especially because it’s generally steady when audio slows down. At the same time, though, it keeps me much busier during the week – and that cuts down on my Small Venue Survivalist availability. When we go into crunch AND all the rest of life gets going, well, that’s when the brakes really clamp down.

The second factor is that I’ve said a LOT of what I wanted to say when I got this site started. When you’re bursting with ideas and they spill out of you like so many jellybeans (the good, Starburst kind that actually have flavor), the articles are longer and deeper. You also keep writing them, even when you have less time available. A great many of those ideas are now on my outside, which feels great!

Yet, once the ideas are on your outside, they’re out. At some point, you take a look at a concept and wonder if you really have to re-examine, restate, or recapitulate it. The situation intensifies when you’re like me: Thoroughly uninterested in clickbait and “bag-o-tricks” content that doesn’t really get into the deep places of live audio. I don’t write pieces about the one crazy tweak for a snare that punches like Manny Pacquiao, because I’m just not interested in that kind of engineering – even if I DO dig a great sounding drum. I also like a massive guitar tone as much as the next guy, but in my world there just isn’t the time, space, or money to hang an extra ribbon mic on each cab (or whatever the current flavor is).

I’d like to review more gear, actually, if I had more money lying around to buy it with.

Anyway.

Maybe the smart thing to do would be to ask you folks. What do YOU want to hear about? Talk to me on Facebook or Patreon. I try to check my messages regularly.

In whatever case, I’m going to keep going as I can, even if I’m not going to go as fast.


Listening To El Ridiculoso

Playing music over a system that’s been tuned as flat as possible is very illuminating.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

I now have El Ridiculoso all finished and set up at home. Mario put this gorgeous coat of epoxy paint on the boxes, lending them a lightly textured and glossy blackness that I love. After getting all the individual enclosures hooked up, I tuned the system to be as flat as I could get it. (El Ridiculoso’s final form is pretty darn linear from about 40 Hz to 15 kHz, with a good amount of usable information beyond even that.) With my tuning in place, I started doing some listening.

I’ll start off by saying this. Music played over a flat-as-you-can-get-it system is music examined under an electron microscope. It’s an image with the sharpness dialed all the way up. There is no escape from anything, no glossing over of this or that. It’s a sonic reality that plants itself an inch from your face, and then starts waving madly. Music with a lot of “traffic” – a lot happening at once – can almost be an overloading experience for your brain.

If it’s there, you WILL hear it.

You might be surprised at what isn’t there, by the way.

You might expect, for instance, that a modern, “rock-mix” of a band like Rush would have a lot of thundering bottom end. That’s not really the case. Even some pop-dubstep really isn’t that heavy “down there.” Overwhelming LF isn’t what makes the mixes work; What the mix stands or falls on is the absolutely crucial midrange. If you get, say, 250 Hz – 5 kHz wrong, you may as well forget about everything else.

…and that reality feeds into points I’ve been making about live audio for quite a while. It feeds into points that other people have been making for ages: The low end does matter, yes, but not as much as you think it does. Balancing the bottom to the rest of the audio makes for the best overall experience, but the first priority is to get the mids to be musical. There’s no substitute for that, and trying to cover up a debacle in the midrange space with a lot of *BOOM* just makes for annoyance. Real punch is the interplay between LF thud and higher-frequency definition. Clarity is a real thing that you really need, and scooping a mix hollow KILLS clarity.

Maybe a bigger subwoofer pile isn’t what you need. Maybe some more time sorting out the firestorm of aural data that lives above the bass range is time better spent.


ITRD

It’s the room, dude.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

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It’s the room, dude.

You’ve mixed this band before. They were great. Now you’re somewhere else, and it’s just awful. You can’t make anything out; The intelligibility is somewhere south of “I can understand every fourth word, sort of.”

It’s, the room, dude.

You’ve used every EQ you have in a manner that could best be described as “neurosurgery with an artillery weapon.” The input channel EQs are carved up. The output channel curves look like the Himalayas. You’ve also inserted graphics on the outputs. The settings are not something you will share on Instagram. The show will NOT behave.

It’s the room, dude.

You’ve moved the speakers. You’ve tilted and twisted them, trying to miss the walls and ceiling just a little more. You could get a job as a civil engineer who designs bridges, because of your working knowledge of bizarre, load-bearing constructions. The system still sounds like the entirety of World War II being fought in an airplane hangar.

It’s the room, dude.

You’ve bought every toy and tweaker that the good folks at the gear retailer could sell you. You’ve got automatic feedback filters, frequency-dependent compression, wild-donkeyed gating, and a rack full of boutique, 500-series thingamabobs. It still sounds like you can’t mix your way out of a paper bag that’s been sitting outside in the rain for a month.

It’s the room, dude.

The lead singer gets your attention as soundcheck draws to a close. “Could you please pull down the reverb?” they ask. Nothing is going to any reverb processor that you have available.

It’s the room, dude.

The musicians are pretty happy. You have the monitors wound up to a level that frightens small children. You have the FOH mid-highs high-passed at 1 kHz. (I have done this in real life.) The sound in the seats is still a sort of indistinct, muddy garble.

It’s the room, dude.

Once you have tens or hundreds of arrivals of a single sonic event, you will never get the transients unsmeared. Once the low-mid builds into a seconds-long reverberant mash, you will never dig your way out. Once monitor-world hits that nice, huge, flat backstop behind the players, you will never get monitor-world out of FOH. Once the vocalist’s smashing crescendo slaps that back wall and starts racing home to their face, you will never stop them from getting walloped right in the chops with the world as it was 200ms ago.

It’s the room, dude. It’s the room.


Graphic Content

Transfer functions of various reasonable and unreasonable graphic EQ settings.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

An aphorism that I firmly believe goes like this: “If you can hear it, you can measure it.” Of course, there’s another twist to that – the one that reminds you that it’s possible to measure things you can’t hear.

The graphic equalizer, though still recognizable, is losing a bit of its commonality as an outboard device. With digital consoles invading en masse, making landings up and down the treasure-laden coasts of live audio, racks and racks of separate EQ devices are being virtualized inside computer-driven mix platforms. At the same time, hardware graphics are still a real thing that exists…and I would wager that most of us haven’t seen a transfer function of common uses (and abuses) of these units, which happen whether you’ve got a physical object or a digital representation of one.

So – let me dig up a spare Behringer Ultragraph Pro, and let’s graph a graphic. (An important note: Any measurement that you do is a measurement of EXACTLY that setup. Some parts of this exercise will be generally applicable, but please be aware that what we’re measuring is a specific Behringer EQ and not all graphic EQs in the world.)

The first thing to look at is the “flat” state. When you set the processing to “out,” is it really out?

In this case, very much so. The trace is laser flat, with +/- 0.2 dB of change across the entire audible spectrum. It’s indistinguishable from a “straight wire” measurement of my audio interface.

Now, we’ll allow audio to flow through the unit’s filtering, but with the high and low-pass filters swept to their maximums, and all the graph filters set to 0 dB.

The low and high-pass filters are still definitely having an effect in the audible range, though a minimal one. Half a decibel down at 45 Hz isn’t nothing, but it’s also pretty hard to hear.

What happens when the filters are swept to 75 Hz and 10 kHz?

The 3dB points are about where the labeling on the knobs tells you it should be (with a little bit of overshoot), and the filters roll off pretty gently (about 6 dB per octave).

Let’s sweep the filters out again, and make a small cut at 500 Hz.

Interestingly, the filter doesn’t seem to be located exactly where the faceplate says it should be – it’s about 40% of a third-octave space away from the indicated frequency center, if the trace is accurate in itself.

What if we drop the 500 Hz filter all the way down, and superimpose the new trace on the old one?

The filter might look a bit wider than what you expected, with easily measurable effects happening at a full octave below the selected frequency. Even so, that’s pretty selective compared to lots of wide-ranging, “ultra musical” EQ implementations you might run into.

What happens when we yank down two filters that are right next to each other?

There’s an interesting ripple between the cuts, amounting to a little bit less than 1 dB.

How about one of the classic graphic EQ abuses? Here’s a smiley-face curve:

Want to destroy all semblance of headroom in an audio system? It’s easy! Just kill the level of the frequency range that’s easiest to hear and most efficient to reproduce, then complain that the system has no power. No problem! :Rolls Eyes:

Here’s another EQ abuse, alternately called “Death To 100” or “I Was Too Cheap To Buy A Crossover:”

It could be worse, true, but…really? It’s not a true substitute for having the correct tool in the first place.


The Stars Too Distant

The big stuff is the small stuff, just more of it.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

“Are the stars too distant, pick up the pebble that lies at thy feet, and from it learn the all.”

– Margaret Fuller

What worries people about new technology in the audio business is the thought of constantly having to retrain. What worries people about making the jump to bigger and more complex applications of audio technology is basically the same thing.

I say, stop worrying. Once you get beyond a certain level of fundamentals, you already know what you need to know to find out what you’ll need to know.

Huh, you say? Okay.

Audio production is a physical science. The laws that govern it are the same at all scales and in all situations – at least on this planet. The only things that change are specific implementations. Just as I would say on the topic of mixing consoles, the important thing is to know what you want to do. If you know what you want to do, you can start asking the questions about how to get that thing done in a particular situation.

The problems come when you get through shows by way of memorization. If you don’t know why you’re doing something, you won’t have any ability to recover from an unexpected situation. If you DO know why you just connected “Thing A” to “Thing B,” then you’ve got the foundational experience necessary to bypass “Thing B” if it fails.

I was once sitting in a meeting where I was half-seriously asked if I wanted to take another guy’s spot on a tour for Someone You’ve Heard Of™:

“Would you be able to handle an M7CL?”

“It’s a mixing console, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but they all have their own quirks…”

I sat there, thinking, “An M7CL is a major console with significant market share, which means it can’t be some exotic, crystalline entity. Give me the hour or so necessary to figure out where Yamaha put the various major features, and I’ll be fine forever after.”

I mean, if the system’s engineer has the rig set up with any kind of reasonable I/O patching, the nuts and bolts of mixing a show come down to whether or not you can switch in the EQs and dynamics processors you want, and then get your channels connected to your desired outputs. Consoles generally make this pretty easy – it’s in the manufacturer’s best interests!

Of course, experience does matter. If you’ve only ever mixed two-channel gigs, and then you get dumped into a 20+ channel situation, you’re going to be in for a bit of a shock. The mental organization required is certainly greater…but the point is that the show really is NOT fundamentally different. All the same rules and limitations apply, but now your limitations have to be spread across many more inputs. Don’t memorize the sequence of events; Look for the patterns instead. The patterns will repeat themselves, with variations, at all scales. Once you start to recognize the patterns, the rules that govern audio production, the experience is rather like being able to “see the code in the Matrix.” You reach this point of being far more confident, because the unexpected is no longer devastatingly surprising.

The big stuff requires more effort than the small stuff, because it’s a lot of small, familiar stuff that has to be wrapped up into a larger package. But it’s still small stuff! The difficulties come in managing all the interactions. Practice counts, and experience at specific tasks is helpful – I’m not saying the opposite!

I’m also saying, though, that if you can plug in 3 channels you can learn to plug in 30.


That Fibber, Myself

I was never going to buy wireless gear again. Until…

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

There is a taxonomy of falsehood. For instance, a particularly awful and hurtful falsity might be “a lie from hell.” Slightly less severe versions might be “a fib from heck,” or “a half-truth from West Jordan.” “Tall-tales from Hyrum” never really hurt anyone, as is the case for a “whopper from Utah County.”

In any case, I thought I was telling the truth when I said – to many people, repeatedly and emphatically – that I would never again put my own money into wireless audio. I was adamant. Determined. Resolute now to defend fair honor upon the glorious field of contest, I say to thee, Knights of the West, STAND!

Yeah, well, you can see how that turned out. Maybe what I said was “a fiction from Erda.” I’m not really sure.

Here’s what happened. I subcontract for a local production provider. A New Years Eve show had been on the books for quite a while, only for it to suddenly vanish in a cloud of miscommunication. The provider scrambled (thank you!) to find a show for me to do, so that I’d have a job that night (thank you!). Normally, we’d have time to handle some coordination for the show advance, but this was a situation where haste was demanded. The provider thought that I had a couple of wireless handhelds available. The show was specced, booked, and advanced. About a day and a half before downbeat, I got the input list.

A strict requirement was at least one wireless handheld. Eeeeep!

It was too late to cross-rent from one of our shared connections. My favorite place to buy or rent “right now” items was closed for inventory. I grabbed my credit card and drove to The Geometric Centroid of Strummed Instruments. (Think about it.) I was in and out in a jiffy, carrying with me a Beta58 Shure GLXD system. As much as the 2.4 Ghz band is becoming a minefield, I went with a digital system; If I was going to spend the money, I did NOT want a unit operating in a part of the spectrum that the FCC would end up auctioning or re-apportioning.

I could have gotten something significantly cheaper, but I wouldn’t have been as confident in it. My imperative was to bring good gear to the show. If I brought something from the bargain-bin, and it ended up messing the bed, that would be hard to excuse. If a better unit misbehaved, I could at least say that I did my due diligence.

In any case, the show had to go on. I’m still not a fan of wireless. I still don’t intend to add to my inventory of audio-over-airwaves devices. Even, so, you sometimes have to bend yourself around what a client needs in a short timeframe. It’s just a part of the life. Of course, after the show, my brand-new transmitter had lipstick embedded in the grille, but that’s a whole other topic…


All I Want For Christmas

Yeah, some of it’s gear, but…

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good boy this year. Well, sort of good. Marginally good. Good was involved at some point. Good intentions.

Actually, do you have a credit system?

Anyway.

Here’s my list for this Christmas, in no particular order:

1) FOH mid-highs and monitor wedges that peak at or above 130 dB SPL @ 1 meter. I don’t really want to be that loud, but at least I can say that they’re in the inventory.

2) Subwoofers that play flat to 20 Hz, weight 20 lbs. a box, and are no bigger than 18″ cubed. I know that’s physically impossible, but those elves at the North Pole do know some magic, right?

3) A little more room for gear in the transport. Because I’m always running out of room. Because I’m always getting that one more piece of gear.

4) Related to #3, an effective 12 Step program.

5) Please ignore #4.

6) More people that want to do shows! But in a nice, even distribution, please, because I’ve had to turn people down over scheduling conflicts. Why does everybody have to want the same weekend?

7) A gear-hauler with enough interior height that I can stand up normally while working inside. I get nervous when I can still feel a show in my back after a day or two.

8) Venues where I can maneuver and park the aforementioned gear-hauler. (Seriously. The two most important features of a venue might just be adequate electricity and an honest-to-goodness lot for vehicles.)

9) Venues that can answer their email. I’ve let go of the whole “promoter” experiment, but I still want to do the occasional show…and it’s depressing that folks won’t communicate. Especially when it’s a rental; Come on, I’m trying to give you money, and you’re making it difficult!

10) Venues that can follow-up as promised. Six months after being promised a proposal “by the end of the day,” I still haven’t seen anything from that one place I was talking to. Of course, I don’t really care anymore if those specific people get back into contact. It’s the principle of the thing!

Oh, and…

Thanks for everything so far. I get worried sometimes, but I’ve had a lot of opportunities, and I’m trying to have a better sense of gratitude.

Best regards,

Danny


Not Everybody, Not All The Time

Care about everything you can, then be okay with everything else.

Please Remember:

The opinions expressed are mine only. These opinions do not necessarily reflect anybody else’s opinions. I do not own, operate, manage, or represent any band, venue, or company that I talk about, unless explicitly noted.

Want to use this image for something else? Great! Click it for the link to a high-res or resolution-independent version.

A letter to myself and others:

You can’t please everybody all the time.

You can try, of course, and you should. Show production is a service industry that’s always been a service industry. It always will be. Getting the maximum number of people to be delighted with the show IS your job.

But 100% satisfaction for everybody is very difficult to get to. Somebody will always manage to sit in the seat where the PA coverage isn’t quite right. Somebody will inevitably wonder why you didn’t make Band A sound like Band B, even though Band A has made arrangement choices such that they CAN’T sound like Band B. You will never have enough subwoofer for “that one guy.” Someone is going to lecture you on how their preferred snare-drum sound is THE key to a rock mix.

There is nothing so good that someone, somewhere will not hate it. So says Pohl’s law, if the Intertubes are to be believed.

You’re going to have to make choices about what to prioritize. That’s part of sitting in any of the chairs involved in show control. By necessity, you will be making choices (many of them, at high speed) that have real – though usually ephemeral and ultimately benign – effects on the lives of a sizable number of people. You must therefore cultivate an assuredness, an appropriate level of confidence that you are doing the right thing. Beyond having a strong appreciation of personal and collective aesthetics, this confidence will be greatly bolstered by understanding the physics involved in this job. If you know what’s possible and what’s not, you will be less rattled when someone accuses you of not having done the right thing…when their right thing wasn’t a feasible thing anyway.

It’s right to take all concerns seriously, but not all concerns can be treated with the same level of seriousness. Start by making as many musicians as happy as you can. That’s your baseline. If you get the baseline done, and somebody else isn’t happy, consider if that person is writing the checks for the event. If so, working out a compromise will probably be in order. An extreme case might require that you just do as you’re told. After you get that squared away, you can start being concerned about other considerations brought to your attention. If you can take care of them without changing the happiness level of the check-writer or the players, go ahead.

If not, be polite, but don’t worry too much. Even big-dollar gigs can’t deploy enough gear to fix everything.

Do your best, have fun, and try to get as many other people to have at least as much fun as you’re having. Do maintain care for the outliers, but don’t agonize. It won’t get you anything, anyway.