Empowering the Next Generation of Women in Audio

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Evie Clark-Yospa (Evie) – Recording, Mixing & Production Engineer

Evie Clark-Yospa is a London-based recording, mixing, and production engineer with over a decade of experience in audio. Currently working as an Engineer at Baltic Studios, where she has been part of the team for the past three years, Evie balances her studio work with independent projects, bringing a versatile and intuitive approach to every session.

Evie’s path into audio began at just 13 years old at a festival where her parents were part of the workshop crew. Friends running the sound tent invited her to help during band soundchecks, and she immediately knew she had found something special. The experience of watching live sound come together sparked what would become a lifelong passion.

Music was woven deeply into Evie’s upbringing within the traveller community. Her mum busked professionally and played in ceilidh bands, often bringing Evie along to performances. Her sister played Celtic harp, her father produced techno, and both grandmothers were multi-instrumentalists. Though she didn’t grow up with formal music lessons, she was surrounded by creativity and encouraged to experiment freely — an influence that still shapes her production style today.

Home-educated and largely raised off-grid, Evie initially entered the industry without fully recognizing the barriers that often exist. It wasn’t until she began working in professional studios that she became more aware of representation gaps within audio. However, strong mentors and supportive educators played a key role in reinforcing her sense of belonging and capability.

At 15, Evie traveled six hours a day to attend a music technology course at Coleg Sir Gâr in Wales — a formative experience that solidified her desire to pursue audio professionally. She later earned a BA (Hons) in Music Production from BIMM, where she developed her technical foundation. An internship at Premises Studios proved especially transformative, giving her hands-on experience and a clear vision of her future in the industry.

Today, Evie brings both technical expertise and a deep-rooted musical intuition to her work. Shaped by community, independence, and a lifelong immersion in sound, she approaches each project with curiosity, care, and a commitment to helping artists fully realize their vision.

Career Beginnings

How did you get your start in audio? –

I started my career by interning at Premises Studios, and it all happened by complete chance. I met someone at a festival who knew one of the studio managers, and she offered to put me in touch. We met up, I shadowed for a day, and a year later they offered me a job working on reception at the studio.

What were your first jobs, gigs, or internships like?

I had a steep learning curve going into my internship because I had never been in a commercial studio before. However, I feel incredibly lucky to have interned at Premises. They were so encouraging, they trusted me, and they genuinely cared about my wellbeing during sessions. I know not all studios or internships would have treated me this way, and I have a great deal of respect for the entire team at Premises for giving me that opportunity.

What skills or lessons did you learn early on that still serve you today?

I learned so much during my time at Premises. All the technical knowledge I gained there was invaluable. I learned about patch bays, how to mic up drum kits, how to track vocals, Pro Tools shortcuts, everything. But I think the most important skills I developed during my internship were behavioural. I learned when to give artists space and how to support different personalities in ways that helped them perform at their best.

What barriers did you encounter early in your career, if any?

I didn’t have a mentor per se but I feel like Premises took me under their wing fully, the engineers, studio managers, the owner, everyone encouraged me. I think the barriers I faced were mostly rooted in people’s assumptions about me. I often felt overlooked when interviewing for studio roles, and even when I did secure a position, clients would frequently assume I was the singer rather than the engineer. I remember one particular interview for a studio job. As part of the process, I was given an audio tech test, but I wasn’t given the space to properly demonstrate what I could do. Instead, they assumed I didn’t know what I was doing and stepped in to complete parts of the task for me. I was later told I hadn’t been successful because I “lacked technical knowledge.”

Your Career Today

What does a typical workday look like for you now?

My days can vary a lot, but I mostly work as a tracking engineer at Baltic Studios. I record a wide range of projects, from bands to film scores. Alongside that, I freelance as a mixer and producer, so some days are spent working more independently on smaller projects, mixing and producing.

How do you stay organized and manage the demands of your work?

I stay organised by being mindful not to schedule too much too close together. When I’m working on a project, I try to fully commit to it so I can stay in the right headspace and give it my full attention.

What do you enjoy most about what you do?

What I enjoy most is the people. I thrive in a busy studio environment, constantly meeting new artists and collaborators and building connections through music. I also really enjoy the problem solving side of the work. There is always a challenge to tackle in the studio, and I love troubleshooting.

What aspects of the job are the most challenging or least enjoyable?

Although I enjoy most aspects of my work, I think the hardest part of engineering is the schedule. It can be incredibly busy, and it’s important to set boundaries and avoid overworking so you don’t burn out.

What is your favorite way to spend a day off or time away from work?

I love travelling, my favourite thing to do away from work is exploring different cultures and having new experiences.

Challenges, Growth & Perspective

What obstacles or systemic barriers have you faced in the industry?

One of the main barriers I’ve faced is frequently being the only woman in many studio sessions. In those environments, I have often felt overlooked, patronised, or underestimated. It has meant having to repeatedly prove myself in spaces where others are automatically assumed to be Competent.

How have you navigated or pushed through those challenges?

The only way I’ve been able to navigate the challenges of being overlooked and underestimated has been by working twice as hard as I should really have to, over preparing for everything, and consciously trying to maintain confidence in myself.

Have you seen the industry change during your career? If so, how?

I have seen the industry change for the better. I see far more women and people of marginalised genders in studios now, which is really encouraging. That said, I still think there is a lot more work to be done.

What still needs to change to better support women and marginalized genders in audio?

I believe we need to move beyond just talking about change and start holding people accountable for their behaviour within the industry. Instead, we need to create clearer, safer systems for reporting unacceptable behaviour.

Advice & Looking Forward

What advice would you give to women or young people interested in entering audio?

The advice I would give is always be willing to learn from others, consistently look for work and try to never doubt yourself.

What skills—technical or otherwise—do you think are essential for success?

I think the technical skills required for audio roles are a given, but the most important qualities for anyone in this industry are kindness, patience, understanding, and a willingness to troubleshoot at any moment.

What long-term goals or aspirations do you have?

In the long term, I would love to give back to the wider industry by helping studios develop forward thinking initiatives that support and progress the next generation of engineers. Creating more accessible pathways into studio work feels really important to me. I also want to continue developing my work as a producer and mixer, taking on more projects in those roles and growing that side of my career.

Is there something you wish you had known earlier in your career?

I wish I had understood more about the less glamorous side of the industry. I love working in this career, but it is often romanticised, especially when you are studying. I would have really valued a more realistic view of what the day to day actually looks like, including the long hours, the unpredictability, and the resilience it takes to build something sustainable.

Favorite or most-used gear (and why):

My favourite bit of studio kit at the moment is the Roland RE-201 Space Echo. I’ve found you can get loads of crazy effects using different tapes within the unit and it’s become a really creative tool for me.

A piece of gear you can’t live without:

The Sony C800!

A moment in your career that made you feel proud or affirmed:

I’ve had so many wonderful moments in my career, but a few recent highlights really stand out. Working on The Charlatans’ new album, We Are Love, was a special one for me. I contributed to a bunch of tracks on that record, and seeing the project come to life and be released into the world was great!

Another highlight has been Baltic Studios’ ATM Programme. Each year, we support eight emerging artists facing financial barriers with access to studios, mixing, mastering, and career mentorship. Working with these artists to pass on what I’ve learned, and building thei confidence in a professional studio environment has been incredibly rewarding.

I also played a part in building Baltic’s new studio spaces, Studio 2 and Studio 3. It was a truly collaborative effort from the whole team, and it has been exciting to see those rooms thriving in sessions, especially knowing how much care and hard work we all put into creating them.

Evie’s website

Music Is the Universal Language

The other day I caught up with my friend Lenise Bent over Zoom. We started with a simple catch-up—talking about plans for mentoring with SoundGirls and what we’ve both been working on lately. It turned into a wonderful and inspiring conversation, but one of the key things we discussed was the power of music and how it truly is the universal language.

Music does not recognize borders or language barriers. It reaches people emotionally before it ever reaches them intellectually.

In the United States, many citizens are denied meaningful opportunities to learn a second or third language. In much of the world, people grow up speaking two, three, sometimes four or five languages. While many people in the U.S. eventually learn additional languages, the opportunity for most students often isn’t presented until middle school—far later than it should be.

And evidently history education is lacking as well.

That might explain some of the uproar around Bad Bunny—a United States citizen—performing in Spanish during the Super Bowl halftime show.

Let me say this clearly: language was not a barrier to understanding his performance. Anyone watching could see that it was a celebration of Puerto Rican roots and culture. It was pure joy and happiness. Everyone I watched it with felt the same way—we simply smiled and took it in. It was magic, and it was beautiful.

Lenise also told me about a year-long project she worked on with an artist named Miist and a song called Lend Me a Smile.”

Miist’s’s goal is to spark human connection through music, empathy, and intentional kindness—things that feel increasingly absent in a society built around constant streaming and digital consumption.

The project was inspired by a tragic story: a 20-year-old Japanese man who was found months after he had died alone in his apartment. This type of lonely death has been increasing across Asia and around the world. In Japan it is even referred to as kodokushi, or “lonely death.”

Here in the United States, the U.S. Surgeon General has warned about a growing loneliness epidemic, reporting that roughly half of adults say they experience loneliness at some point in their lives.

Miist was so moved by that story that she wrote “Lend Me a Smile.” The song has now been recorded in 15 languages across five continents, involving Grammy-winning artists, engineers, and producers. The goal is simple but powerful: help humans remember how to be human.

Imagine if someone had simply taken the time to acknowledge that young man. To smile. To say hello. To ask if he needed help—or even just a hug.

Pro Roadie Tip

I sometimes use the line “Do you need a hug?” or “Someone needs a hug.”

I use it when dealing with crew members who are being prickly on any given day. Instead of engaging with whatever slight they’re upset about, it often stops people in their tracks. They take a breath. Sometimes they actually take the hug. Sometimes they laugh.

More often than not it diffuses the situation completely. It allows people to regulate, apologize, or simply reset.

Connection matters.

Isolation

Society has become increasingly isolating—especially after the pandemic. Our lives are now dominated by streaming services, social media feeds, and devices that keep us connected digitally while separating us physically.

We’ve also lost many of the affordable public spaces where people used to gather and build community.

Humans are social creatures. We need connection. We need to touch, laugh, bond, and share experiences with one another.

Yet modern American culture increasingly pushes us toward isolation

We’re taught that success means having your own apartment, your own house, your own nuclear family. Two kids. Two cars. A house that looks like all the other houses. A vacation to Disneyland.

Our elders are placed in nursing homes, or—if they are fortunate enough to retire comfortably—they disappear onto cruise ships.

Generational households are rare in white middle-class America. The working class often maintains them out of necessity. The wealthy maintain isolation by protecting their mansions with gates and private security.

The middle class runs a treadmill: paying off one debt only to accumulate another, spending weekends catching up on errands and chores. Maybe there’s time for a movie night once in a while.

But that is not community

Our common spaces are disappearing. Property values and investor profits outweigh the value of shared cultural spaces.

When was the last time you could enjoy a free play or concert in a park or on a beach?

When was the last time you could easily afford to attend a concert?

Last weekend I went to see Flipper. I used to see them for $6. I know that was a long time ago, but even a $40 ticket today adds up quickly.

Parking: $40.
Dinner: about $80.
Drinks: another $60.

Suddenly you’ve spent nearly $200 to sit in a hot club. In this case, I say watching the band rather than hearing them—the sound was so terrible it was basically just noise.

Do I regret it?

No.

Because for a few hours I was part of a community.

Isolation out of necessity

Being an introvert, it’s easy for me to isolate. In fact, isolation is sometimes necessary just to function. An outing or event – even one I want to attend – can drain my energy for days.

But I still need connection.

As an introverted, awkward, easily bored kid, music and books literally saved my life.

I never really connected with the kids at school. I was relentlessly bullied in elementary school. Middle School friendships were fleeting. High School included a toxic romantic relationship.

Eventually I landed at a continuation school where I could finish my school work in four-hour days, without all the drama. That environment became a community.

We were basically the The Breakfast Club every day.

And we could afford to go to shows.

Los Angeles had a vibrant and welcoming punk scene, and I saw an incredible range of bands—from clubs to arenas:
X
Black Flag
Redd Kross
Joe Walsh
David Lindley
KISS
Scorpions
Iron Maiden
the legendary US Festival
and even Mötley Crüe when they were still playing 2,000-seat venues.

And I always had a Kurt Vonnegut book in my bag.

Pro Roadie Tip

Never leave the house without a book.

Some days you’re going to sit around all day doing nothing. A book will save you.

All of those shows created release and connection—connection between the band and the audience, and between everyone in the room.

I have been fortunate enough to spend my entire adult life working in live sound. That career exposed me to countless artists, bands, and genres. And every night when the doors open at 6 PM, something special happens.

For a few hours, a community forms.

Sadly, many people today can only afford to attend one concert a year. Some opt for massive festivals like Coachella to get the biggest spectacle for their money. Ticket prices have skyrocketed. Sometimes it’s corporate greed—companies like Live Nation Entertainment certainly play a role – but audiences also expect spectacle now. Modern shows often resemble Broadway productions. Spectacle costs money.

Two of the most incredible shows I’ve seen represent opposite ends of that spectrum:

The Formation World Tour by Beyoncé – a stunning spectacle.

And Fugazi, whom I was fortunate enough to tour with: three work lights, no theatrics, just pure musical muscle.

Both were intense. Both created community.

Both were powerful.

So back to music as the universal language

Music has the power to heal.
It provides the soundtrack to our lives.
It can be used as a force for good, like the Miist project.

It can combat loneliness.
Help us heal emotionally.
Regulate our nervous systems.
Create safety and connection.

Research has even shown that music can reconnect memory in people living with Alzheimer’s disease.

That’s powerful.

The Most Isolated Groups

Now let’s talk about one of the most isolated groups of people in our society: people who are incarcerated.

They are isolated from society, communication, movement, and community. Some endure the most extreme form of isolation imaginable—solitary confinement—for months, years, even decades.

These individuals are cut off not only from other people but often from meaningful sensory experience.

For those living in isolation, music can become a lifeline. It offers connection, emotional release, and mental escape. It can help alleviate trauma, reduce aggression, and maintain sanity. Solitary confinement is widely recognized as one of the most severe forms of psychological torture.

Music Used to Torture

Ironically, music has also been used as a tool of torture. The United States has used loud music played continuously—sometimes 24 hours a day—against prisoners and detainees. I remember once laughing when I heard that some band I didn’t like was used in those interrogations. But it’s not funny. It’s cruel.

Artists including Tom Morello and Skinny Puppy have publicly condemned the practice, while others including James Hetfield—have spoken out and embraced it.

That contrast shows just how powerful music really is.

Personally, I strongly oppose the use of music as torture, the use of solitary confinement, and the entire structure of the Prison Industrial Complex. I became an activist because of the power of music. In the late 1980s I worked a protest benefit concert opposing U.S. support for the Contras in Nicaragua. The final performer of the day was Jackson Browne. He walked on stage with nothing but an acoustic guitar and sang a song in Spanish. I didn’t understand a single word.

But I was reduced to tears

That four-minute performance touched me so deeply that I could never again turn my back on people suffering – whether from war, poverty, nuclear threats, genocide, militarism, or the Prison Industrial Complex.

That is the power of music.

Use it for good.

Side note: I volunteer with Critical Resistance and participate in a program called Circle of Solidarity.

Recently we visited San Quentin Rehabilitation Center, where I met two musicians and aspiring sound engineers named Tan and Brian. Tan’s wife immediately sent me music he recorded while incarcerated there.

SoundGirls is also working with The Last Mile, which runs programs in video and audio editing inside prisons. Last year I visited California Institute for Women and met with some of students, it was an amazing experience.

We’re excited that students inside will soon be editing episodes of the SoundGirls Podcast.

This is the power of music – This is the power of connection

Ear Hustle – The Songs of San Quentin

Lend Me A Smile – Miist

Jackson Browne

Fugazi Live 

Beyonce Freedom with Kendrik Lamar

The High Performance Edge

Why Your Nervous System is Your Greatest Career Investment

The music industry is built on a high octane rush. There is absolutely nothing that compares to the surge of a flawless production or the electric energy of a world class performance. But let’s be direct: the pressure is relentless. Whether you’re steering the ship in production or keeping the gears turning on the local crew, the volatility… the travel, the erratic hours, the high stakes… demands a tax that most people aren’t prepared to pay.

The standard industry move? Put yourself last. Run on caffeine and adrenaline. Tell yourself you’ll deal with the fallout when the tour wraps. Toughen up, buttercup.

But hope is not a strategy. Pushing through isn’t a badge of honor; it’s a liability.

If you want a career that is sustainable, profitable, and elite, you have to treat your health and wellness as a high level business investment. Here is how mastering your internal mechanics protects your health, your reputation, and your bottom line.

Eliminate the Cost of Physical Breakdown

In this business, “the show must go on” often leads to professionals ignoring the very body that allows them to work. Chronic overwork sends your system into a permanent state of “fight or flight,” weakening your immune response, wrecking your digestion, and inviting inflammation.

I’ve spent over two decades backstage. I know the cost of a missed gig or a physical collapse. When you move from reactive survival to staying cool, calm, and competent, you aren’t just “feeling better.” You are ensuring your body can recover faster and perform at a high level without the frequent “engine failures” of illness or injury.

Kill the Post Season Crash

That hollow, disconnected feeling when the adrenaline stops? That’s not just fatigue. It’s a dysregulated nervous system struggling to find a baseline. When you live in a state of overstimulation, emotional regulation becomes nearly impossible.

Through Neuroscience based mentoring, we bridge the gap between the chaos of the road and the stillness of home. You’ll learn to shift states with precision, ensuring the industry doesn’t own your mental well-being long after the trucks are loaded.

Move Beyond “Quick Fix” Culture

Let’s be real: this industry has a long history of self-medicating the pressure. Whether it’s substances, burnout induced spending, or total numbing, these are just survival tactics for an unregulated system.

I’m not here to preach or judge… I’ve seen it all from the side stage. My goal is to give you a more sophisticated toolkit. When you have the power to regulate your own biology, the need for external “quick fixes” naturally fades. You regain control. You will still live your lifestyle, it will just grow into being BETTER.

Protect Your Most Valuable Asset: Your Reputation

In the music world, your reputation is your currency. Stress induced decision fatigue makes you lose focus, miss details, and develop a short fuse. If you become difficult to work with or unreliable, the calls stop.

By integrating MicroMoments Unplugged, practical, science backed resets that work in real time and match your lifestyle, you stay sharp, grounded, and composed under chaos. You become the person the heavy hitters want on their team because you remain the calmest person in the room.

Strategize Your Success, Don’t Just React to It

When you are drowning in stress, you can’t think long term. You take random gigs out of fear rather than making moves that scale your career.

Mastering your stress allows you to operate from the prefrontal cortex, the seat of strategy and creativity. This is how you stop working harder and start working smarter. It’s how you move from being a “worker” to being an industry leader who sets boundaries and prioritizes high value opportunities.

The New Standard of Longevity

This industry rewards those who can last. The icons and the top-tier production masters aren’t the ones who burned out the fastest; they’re the ones who learned how to manage their energy.

Through my Mentoring, Consultations, Workshops, and the Where You Belong Retreat, I provide the roadmap for high achieving professionals to master their internal environment.

You’ve spent years mastering your craft. Now, it’s time to master the biology that powers it.

The industry is demanding. Be the one who stays regulated.

Curious how a tailored stress management strategy fits into your touring schedule? Let’s set up a Meet n Greet to discuss how to build your elite edge.

The Coffee Chat

Last summer, a student asked my former audio instructor for references for “coffee chats with audio engineers to discuss how they achieved their success and the advice they have for up-and-coming audio engineers and producers.” My instructor referred her to me. When I got the email, I laughed out loud. I’m lucky enough to be an intern at two world-class studios, but that’s all I am – an intern. At the time, I felt I could use a coffee chat myself for advice to get into the recording part of the studio experience.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be to you, as I’ve been feeling a bit at a crossroads, myself,” I  wrote back. “I know it looks like I have some cool jobs, and I kind of do, but it would be cooler if they paid a living wage!  But I am totally down to tell you what I’ve seen so far in my journey.”

We met up at Hyde Street Studios in San Francisco and the conversation really helped clarify things for me and gifted me the acquaintance of a smart, funny, motivated, Black woman who works with me to this day. I don’t remember her exact questions, but I thought I’d put down some of the things we talked about.

I had met her before at an event called Bay Area Audio Nerds, which is an informal meetup of audio engineers that sometimes takes place at local studios. 2200 Studios, formerly known as The Record Plant Sausalito, was hosting, and I was there as one of the studio interns. “When I saw you walk into the control room,” she said at our meeting, “I thought, ‘oh, thank goodness.’”

Now, I’m Chinese-American; both my parents immigrated from China in the 1950s. But how bad does racial disparity in an industry have to be to be that a Black woman sees me and says, “Oh, thank goodness?” There are essays that can be written about the differences in racism against different demographics, and this is not one of them. I’ll just say that I felt uncomfortable in the unspoken proximity to any comparison between Black and Asian experiences in the US, but glad if I could be of any help.

“I’m not an engineer yet,” I told her. “All I can tell you is what I’ve seen.”

“Well, from what you’ve seen,” she said, “What is the path to becoming a recording engineer?”

As far as I’ve seen, there is no path. You make your own path. And that’s both freeing and confusing for people who come right out of the structure of educational institutions or hierarchical jobs. There’s no showing up for work every day and doing a good job and getting promoted. Nobody makes you an engineer, you have to make yourself an engineer.

The important thing is access, and that’s what an internship gives you. You can’t learn to use gear if you have no gear. You can’t learn to run a recording session by imagining it; you have to do it. There are so many moving parts, the musicians, the instruments, the microphone choice and placement, the routing. Troubleshooting noise, line of sight, isolation, software glitches, pivoting with sudden changes of plan. It’s lunchtime, is everyone going to take a break, or will they get really hangry? In the middle of the orchestrated chaos, you’re also responsible for the vibe. You have to be everywhere but not in the way.  It’s amazing any music ever comes out the other end, but it does, and it’s glorious, a miracle.

I’m filled with gratitude every day that I get to swim in that soup. And that’s important, too, because you have to love it to do it. Even for engineers that have been recording for decades, there are months when clients don’t call, when they start thinking that they need to find another job. A lot of recording engineers do have other jobs: stagehand, live sound, corporate A/V tech. The pay is not great, the hours are long and inconsistent, schedules change at a moment’s notice. “I can only be friends with other people in audio,” another friend once joked. “Nobody else understands why I have to cancel plans all the time.”

Most internships will have some kind of arrangement that allows the interns to access the studios. It’s usually some kind of work trade agreement, or maybe a discounted house rate. This is where you make yourself an engineer. Book a session, just with some friends jamming, and try recording them. Fail. Kick yourself. Tear your hair and curse. I told an engineer about my first attempt at recording, saying, “It didn’t go perfectly, but lessons were learned.”

He laughed. “You just gotta throw yourself on the fire, “ he said.

After a few sessions with friends, I approached a local band I liked and asked if they’d want to have a free session with a novice engineer, and they said yes. I hadn’t seen the full band, because they played with various configurations of bandmates and even as a duo sometimes, and it turned out to be a six-piece band, including fiddle and pedal steel guitar. They invited a seventh, a professional Americana guitarist and vocalist who had been signed to a label. To say that I was nervous doesn’t even come close. I was sick with apprehension.

Did it go perfectly? No. Did they have a good time and leave happy? Yes. It was a 15-hour day for me, no breaks. There were things I realized afterwards that I didn’t do or that I should have done differently. But two engineers listened to the rough mix and both commented, “This was well recorded.”

Totally worth it.

Squeakie, with guest musician Mya Byrne.

 

I hate making mistakes. It feels really dark, like I’ve broken some kind of moral rule. But I can honestly say that every mistake has turned into a skill, because there comes a time when I don’t make that mistake anymore. So don’t let the fear of mistakes keep you from trying things. Spoiler alert: you will make mistakes. They are the seeds of who you will become.

As we were wrapping up our coffee chat, the student said to me, “What advice do you have for a woman of color trying to get into this industry?”

Maybe here it turned out to be a good thing that I had been having a bit of an existential career crisis, because I’d been feeling like I should give up, and had given my situation a lot of thought. There’s both camaraderie and competition among recording engineers, and being an intern can feel a little bit Lord of the Flies at times.

“Two things,” I said. “Remember why you got into this. If you love recording, do it for the love. I got into this because I wanted to help people be heard that don’t always have access to or feel comfortable in a recording studio. I want to record those people so they can get their voices out there. I don’t need to be the best, or the top, or win any awards, so I can’t waste my energy thinking about that.

“The second thing is something that someone in an online group told me, when I had to go in and have a difficult meeting with HR at my old job. They said, ‘Go in clear on who you are.’ People are always going to try and tell you who you are, and act like they know who you are better than you do. You’re the one that knows. You’re you. You’re the only one who knows.

“Remember why you’re doing it, and go in clear on who you are. Take those two things and hold them in front of you and then just move forward.” I laughed, holding my hands in front of me in a wedge shape. “Like a ship parting the waves.”

As I walked to the station afterwards, I felt lighter and clearer, myself, on who I am and why I’m doing what I do; I felt those two things in front of me, ready to part the waves. So one more piece of advice: don’t be afraid to talk to people and ask them questions. Who knows, you might be helping them figure things out.

Dolby Atmos Intro with John Scanlon

Dolby Atmos Intro with John Scanlon
March 18 | 3:00–4:30 PM GMT
Online Event – Link will be sent after registration

Join us for an in-depth Dolby Atmos demonstration with John Scanlon, designed for audio practitioners interested in post-production and immersive sound workflows.

This session will introduce Dolby Atmos technology, explore its core features, and highlight creative applications within post-production environments. John will walk through practical approaches, workflow considerations, and creative possibilities when working in Atmos.

The webinar is geared toward beginner to intermediate levels, but is absolutely open to more experienced professionals who would like to deepen their understanding or ask detailed technical and creative questions.

Whether you’re new to Atmos or looking to refine your approach, this session will provide valuable insights into immersive audio production.

Join us online – link will be sent upon registration.
Sign up here

From Intimidation to Identity: My First Year Inside a DAW

Most of us remember the first time we used our DAW. That moment when your journey as a producer is entirely in front of you, and you have no idea what to expect or what’s coming. It’s a moment full of uncertainty, but also expectation. While at first, our beloved workstations can feel super overwhelming, it’s important to understand, as a beginner, that almost every successful producer you know and look up to faced this exact dilemma as well. While I am still in the early stages of my own personal development, I feel it’s important to share that this feeling of intimidation is completely normal at the beginning of really anything new that you’re trying. And it’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

The First Climb

Like most of you, when I first opened my DAW, which is Logic, I felt like closing it again after five seconds. Suddenly, all the anticipation and enthusiasm I had evaporated into thin air. It felt like sitting in a crowded room with strangers that are talking about things you don’t understand, in a language that you don’t understand. I was humiliated. I was convinced that I had overestimated my technical abilities, and initially, I had. There were too many buttons, too many menus, and too many windows asking for decisions that I couldn’t even make. Every click seemed to open three more options, none of which I knew how to make sense of. I was completely lost, but thankfully, I was far from giving up.

The Noise before the Signal 

Once I got past the initial shock of simply opening the program, I did what most beginners do: I went straight to YouTube. And immediately got overwhelmed all over again. There were endless tutorials promising to teach “everything you need to know about Logic” in ten minutes. One video said to always mix this way, another said to never do that. Some producers swore by certain techniques, while others insisted the exact opposite. I didn’t just feel confused, I felt buried under new information. I had no idea what actually mattered and what was just advanced advice meant for people far beyond my level. I was trying to learn everything at once instead of learning the right things first. Looking back, this stage was just as difficult as opening the DAW for the first time: learning how to filter the noise from the signal.

Flattening the Curve

OK – slowly but surely, things started making a bit of sense. Instead of trying to master everything, I began focusing on the essentials. I learned what the basic stock plugins actually did, not just how they worked, but how they affected sound in real, practical ways. I

started understanding EQ: how to cut mud, tame harsh frequencies, and make space for different elements. I learned about de-essing vocals – the simple stuff. I discovered compression: at first by overusing it, then by finally realizing less is often more. And, of course, I went through the classic beginner phase of putting way too much reverb on absolutely everything (and wondering why oh why mix sounds so muddy).

One of the most helpful things I did was create templates in Logic: personalized settings that meant I didn’t have to rebuild my workflow from scratch every time I opened a project. Having a familiar starting point made the whole process feel far less intimidating. I finally had some points of reference.

Small Peaks Along the Way 

Once the basics stopped feeling so unfamiliar, I could finally focus on what I’d wanted to do from the start: creating. For the first time, I was able to translate abstract ideas—melodies, rhythms, little sparks of inspiration—into something real and tangible. Of course, the results were far from perfect. My early mixes wouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near a radio station. But it felt incredibly liberating to know my way around the essentials well enough to experiment with the sounds and tools my beautiful DAW has to offer. I obviously wasn’t making masterpieces after two months, not even close. But I had unlocked a concrete way to capture my ideas beyond the simplicity of a voice note (although I’ll obviously always be grateful for voice memos). Nevertheless, that realization alone felt like a small peak worth celebrating. From that point on, I realised I wasn’t as scared anymore. I finally felt like I could actually do this.

The First Real Milestone 

The harder I worked on improving my techniques, the more of these “small peaks” I encountered. Whether it was finishing my first few songs, remaking projects from other artists, or finally trusting my ears enough to mix without constant doubt, I realized that the more time I invested in my DAW, the more progress I saw. After about a year, I felt genuinely confident in my skills. Could I compete with professional producers? Of course not. But I had time—and so do you. Looking back, I wish someone had told me sooner to stop comparing myself to others. The moment I did, I finally felt free to make mistakes and actually learn from them.

Even with a few mixes I was proud of, I was still nervous to share them. That changed when I moved to a new city and met a producer while looking for a room to rent. We ended up talking late into the night, and when I mentioned that I made music too, he asked if he could hear it. I hesitated at first, terrified of being judged, but eventually I left him alone in his studio to listen. When he came back out half an hour later, he was emotional, telling me how beautiful he thought my work was and how much I was underselling myself.

That was my first real milestone. Since then, even though I’m just a 19 year old university student, when people ask me what I do, I say “I am a producer”, instead of “I want to be”.

NorthWest SoundGirls – Carlson Learning Session!

Northwest SoundGirls — You’re Invited!

We’re excited to share that Carlson Audio Systems has invited Northwest SoundGirls to attend their upcoming Carlson Learning Session!

This is a fantastic opportunity to get hands-on with multiple console platforms and RF setups in a supportive, exploratory environment. Whether you want to build show files, refine workflows, explore Workbench, or just spend focused time on a desk you don’t normally get access to — this is your chance.

Location: Carlson Shop 2250 1st Ave S Seattle WA 98134
Session 1:
February 25-26
Time: 9am-5pm Lunch break 12-1
Session 2:
March 11-12
Time: 9am-5pm Lunch break 12-1
Bring: A way to take notes. Wear clothes you would gig in. Be ready to learn and ask questions.
These classes will be covering the skill sets, tools and general expectations that we like all our technicians have.
Finally there will be coffee provided in the mornings and you will have an hour lunch break with several options food  nearby if you don’t want to bring a lunch.

We are incredibly grateful to Carlson for opening their shop and creating space for our community to learn, experiment, and grow.

If you’ve been wanting more console time, more RF confidence, or just more time to ask questions and try things without show pressure — this is it.

Please RSVP directly to Jesse @ jesset@carlson-audio.com so we can plan accordingly.

Huge thank you to Carlson Audio Systems for supporting Northwest SoundGirls. 💙

Northwest SoundGirls – Carlson Learning Session

Northwest SoundGirls – Please RSVP!

We’re excited to announce that Carlson Audio has invited us to attend the first-ever  Carlson Learning Session

This is a hands-on, open learning environment where you’ll have the opportunity to dig into consoles, build and tweak show files, experiment, compare workflows, and ask questions in a low-pressure setting.

The plan is to set up pairs of each console style Carlson has available so everyone gets real time to explore. Whether you want to build files from scratch, refine your workflow, or just get more comfortable navigating different platforms — this is your chance.

We’ll also have several RF setups connected to consoles, including:

Axient

ULX-D

PSM 1000

Axient PSM

You’ll be able to build Workbench files, compare settings, and learn RF workflow in a practical, hands-on way.

These setups will be available over both days. When you arrive, there will be a sign-up sheet with hourly blocks so everyone gets time on the gear they want. The time blocks are meant to be a rough guide — some may need more time, some less — we’ll adjust as needed to make sure everyone gets access.

Location:
Carlson Shop
2250 1st Ave S

Dates: March 4 & 5
Time: 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM each day (or until the last session is booked on the 5th)

Console Gear:

2x SD12 (with Waves)

2x S6L

2x Allen & Heath S5000

2x Yamaha DM7

RF:

Axient PSM

PSM1000

Axient RF

ULX-D RF

This is the first time we’re hosting something like this, and we’re excited to create more hands-on learning opportunities for our community.

Please RSVP so we can plan accordingly. 

SoundGirls Online Mentoring Program – Mentee Applications Now Open

SoundGirls is launching a new online mentoring program beginning March–April 2026, and we’re excited to invite mentees from across the audio community to participate.

We’re welcoming mentees working in (or interested in exploring) a wide range of disciplines, including live sound (FOH, monitors, systems, touring), recording and studio engineering, post production, film and TV/broadcast audio, sound design and game audio, music technology and engineering, mastering, production management and technical leadership, and theatre.

Program Format

This will be a small-group mentoring model, with one mentor paired with 4–6 mentees. The program runs for three months, with one 75–90 minute Zoom session per month. Conversations will focus on career development, sustainability, problem-solving, and real-world insight rather than direct job placement.

What Mentees Can Expect

Mentees will have the opportunity to engage in guided discussions, ask questions, gain perspective from experienced professionals, and connect with peers navigating similar paths. We’ll provide optional prompts and structure to help make conversations productive and meaningful.

Who Should Apply

This program is open to early-career and mid-career audio professionals, students preparing to enter the field, and those looking to pivot or grow within their discipline. We especially encourage women and gender-diverse individuals working in audio to apply.

SoundGirls is a largely volunteer-run organization, and this program is designed to be intentional, supportive, and respectful of everyone’s time.

If you’re interested in participating as a mentee, please fill out the mentee interest form below.

Mentee Application

Thank you for being part of building a more connected, supportive, and inclusive audio community 💙

If you would like to be a mentor learn more here

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