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Being An Autistic Woman In Audio

It’s been almost a year since I interviewed for what, at the time, I considered to be my “dream job” in audio. A few days beforehand, I received an email informing me that there would be a short technical exercise in the studio prior to the interview itself, designed to give them an idea of how comfortable I was using a mixing console.

Unfortunately things did not go to plan, in any way. The “short technical exercise” turned out to be a series of complicated tasks lasting nearly an hour, on a system I’d never used before (and which was only available within this particular company). It was followed by a string of questions about how I’d go about solving various hypothetical problems (and this was before we’d even got to the actual interview). Every time I thought I had a satisfactory answer, they’d come up with another reason why it would fail. I’d have to find yet another solution, and so on, until I inevitably ran out of options. All the while, the interviewers on the panel kept looking at me—and then each other—with expressions I struggled to decipher, while making notes about my answers.

Needless to say I didn’t get the job. Afterwards I felt completely exhausted by the whole ordeal and spent the next two days recovering at home. So much importance is placed on appearing confident and calm in interviews. Admitting you really struggle with them is frowned upon in case it reflects badly on you as a professional; no one wants to give the impression they can’t handle it. I was ashamed and embarrassed about the fact that I always seemed to fail miserably at interviews, despite knowing that I had so much to offer. No matter how much I tried to prepare for what I might be asked, it never worked out. It was always the same story.

That interview wasn’t the only challenge in my life at the time. Something I didn’t realise until later was that I was also in severe burnout. Everything seemed to be falling apart bit by bit. I thought there was something horribly wrong with me and couldn’t figure out what it was. In the end I discovered there wasn’t anything wrong with me, but something different.

I am autistic

My journey into the world of theatre sound (having abandoned my previous idea of what my “dream job” looked like) coincided with my journey towards self-acceptance, learning who I actually am, and how my brain works. Getting my autism diagnosis has come with a roller coaster of emotions. There’s the relief of finally being able to make sense of past experiences and struggles and the differences I always sensed about myself, but couldn’t quite pinpoint. There’s also the frustration of things not being noticed as early as they could have been, and of going through adolescence without the support I and the adults around me didn’t know I needed. I’m now also learning how all of this fits in with my current career trajectory.

Like many autistic people, I have various sensory processing challenges, one of which relates to sound. Competing noises really bother me: people talking over each other, making it impossible for me to follow a conversation, and certain harsher sounds drive me crazy. I’m also one of those people who can hear the high-pitched whine of a phone charger plugged in on the other side of the room. When it comes to my work, however, my sensitivity can be a big advantage. It allows me to pick up on unwanted frequencies quickly and hopefully make good judgement calls as a result.

I can also lean on other strengths that typically make autistic people excellent employees across multiple industries, like attention to detail and hyper-focus. These things all make me better at what I do. So does my honesty, my direct communication and my absolute commitment to a task.

However, while neurodivergent people have so much to offer in the workplace and that should be celebrated, it’s also important to acknowledge that there will likely be challenges we need support with. This is because too many workplaces are simply not designed to accommodate differently wired brains. The idea of providing reasonable adjustments seems to be off-putting to some employers (in all types of industries), but in most cases people are not asking for things that are complicated to implement. What an autistic person needs from their employer will depend on the type of job they are working in, as well as the fact that autism presents differently in each individual person. But generally speaking, having the ability to take regular breaks, making sure work spaces are as sensory-friendly as possible, and being given enough time to process information are things that can make a huge difference to an autistic person’s well being at work.

But unfortunately this doesn’t always happen, and I have found that theatre is no exception. In the UK, there are organisations and initiatives which aim to increase representation and promote inclusion on stage and among audiences. But in my experience to date, the needs of neurodivergent/disabled theatre technicians are not as widely discussed.

Until I experienced the stress and intensity of tech week, I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. The hours are long and there is so much going on sensory-wise that autistic burnout is a big risk. I personally found it absolutely vital to step away as often as possible and take a breather (preferably in a quiet space with low lighting). I won’t pretend this is a straightforward thing to do when people are asking you for multiple things at once and this task, that you only found out about five minutes ago, needs to be done right now, in as fast a time as possible (not fun when delayed processing comes into play). But as an industry I really believe we need to take a look at our whole approach to tech, and bear in mind that there may well be neurodivergent people within your department who need understanding and compassion (of course, prioritising well-being is something we should be doing for everyone, because no one should have to make themselves ill with stress in order to do their best work).

This likely won’t be the last thing I write here about neurodiversity. But to conclude things for now, I want to return to the topic I began with: interviews. A year on from that incredibly difficult experience, I had an interview with a company that made reasonable adjustments when I disclosed my autism during the application process. They sent me a list of questions beforehand: a simple act that made a massive difference by allowing me to focus completely on the best things to say about myself, rather than worry about my tone of voice/body language/level of eye contact and how this would be perceived. Yes, there may still be interviewers who are not prepared to see past this stuff, but that’s their problem, not mine. Because I’m finally learning that I should never have to hide or suppress those parts of myself that are different. Not weird, or wrong. Just different.

And that is okay.

Joanna Lynne Staub – Sound Designer, Composer, and Audio Engineer

Joanna Lynne Staub is a highly accomplished freelance sound designer, composer, and audio engineer with over 30 years of experience spanning Broadway, Off-Broadway, and regional theatre, as well as live events, corporate audio, concerts, television, and podcasts. As an independent contractor, she is a proud member of USA829 as a sound designer and IATSE as an audio engineer.

Currently, Joanna is engaged in exciting projects, including sound design and composition for George Street Playhouse and American Players Theatre. Currently, Joanna is working on the renovation of the sound system at the Hayden Planetarium and the creation of the new Space Show at the Museum of Natural History in NYC.  In addition to her theatrical work, she is an audio engineer for ABC Television, Clair Global, and the podcast Playing on Air.

Early Life & Passion for Audio

Joanna’s deep connection to music and audio was ingrained from childhood. Growing up in a family of musicians and audiophiles, discussions on music production, performance, and history were a daily part of life. Surrounded by an eclectic mix of records and radio broadcasts, she developed an early fascination with sound and live performance.

Her interest in audio as a career path emerged during undergraduate studies, fueled by a passion for music production and the culture of live performances. Attending concerts at a young age, she became captivated by the behind-the-scenes execution of live sound.

Educational Background & Training

Joanna holds a Bachelor of Science in Audio Engineering from Ithaca College and a Master of Fine Arts in Sound Design & Technical Theatre from the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Her formal training encompasses music, sound design, audio engineering, and technical theatre. As a classically trained flutist, she also has a background in composition and orchestration, which informs her work in sound design and music integration.

A Multifaceted Career

Throughout her extensive career, Joanna has worked across a wide range of theatrical productions, live events, and broadcast audio, demonstrating expertise in both creative sound design and technical engineering. Her work continues to shape the auditory experiences of audiences across multiple entertainment industries.

With an unwavering passion for sound, storytelling, and performance, Joanna Lynne Staub remains a respected and sought-after professional in the field of audio and theatrical design.

Career Start

How did you get your start? 

My first job doing sound for theatre was as an intern audio engineer at the Hangar Theatre in Ithaca, NY.  Then, I took a gap year between Undergraduate and Graduate School.  During that year, I worked as an Audio Engineer at the Santa Fe Opera and then at the Arena Stage in Washington DC.  I moved to NYC after completing Graduate school, and have been based there ever since.

How did your early internships or jobs help build a foundation for where you are now?

While in undergraduate school, I did internships in both theatre & recording studio engineering, learning fairly quickly that I prefer doing sound for live events.  I enjoy the interaction with live audiences.  But I deeply appreciate the skills and connections I made while working in a recording studio – and I have a great appreciation of the level of detail & creativity required to do studio engineering well.

What did you learn interning or on your early gigs? – Never look down on anyone you are working with.  Someone who is your assistant today may be your boss tomorrow.  Everyone in the room has skills that you can learn from – and you should.

Did you have a mentor or someone that really helped you? – While studying at Ithaca College, Dr. Peter Rothbart & Dr. John Bracewell were incredibly influential in starting me out on my career path.  After I moved to NYC, Carin Ford & Beth Berkley were mentors who helped me learn how to navigate the Broadway community.

Career Now

What is a typical day like? 

What I love about my job is that it is ever-changing, and no two days are the same.   Different points in the process have vastly differing days – also changing based on what job I am working on a particular project.

Early in the production process, known as pre-production, I spend a lot of time at my home office preparing shop bids and design paperwork, along with taking creative meetings with the director and other collaborators.

Once a show is in rehearsal, I will go as often as possible to see what the director and actors have dreamed up, as well as look at timing for required sound design and compositional effects, which I am building at the same time.  Whenever possible, we will add recorded sound cues into the rehearsal process for the actors to work with and see if they are appropriate for the production.  If a show is a musical, I will also attend band rehearsals and provide audio support for the Sitzprobe rehearsal – which is the first time that the cast and band are in a room together rehearsing.

If a show or project has hired all or part of a sound system, the audio team will spend a chunk of time at a rental shop.  During this process, we work with the shop gathering all of the gear into one space, setting up the entire sound system, and testing every piece of gear to make sure it works as specified.  This includes everything from setting up computer programs and FOH console programming to running test rigging of speaker hangs, along with testing every piece of cable in between.  After the testing is complete, we have to organize and pack all of the gear to be shipped to the theatre or performance location in a manner where we can find everything we need whenever we require it.

Loading in a sound system can take anywhere from a few hours to a few months depending on the size and scope of the project.  Broadway Theatres have almost no sound gear permanently installed – entire sound systems are loaded in from scratch at the start of every show, and have to be loaded out at the end.  This includes the sound system for the audience, pit orchestra, onstage effects and foldback, as well as backstage communications at CCTV required for the show.  It is an extremely laborious process that takes a skilled crew to accomplish safely.  I often tell people to imagine the largest show you’ve ever worked on, and put it in the smallest space you’ve ever been in.  That’s Broadway – big shows in theatres that are 100s of years old and never meant to hold shows of this size.  But we make it work with a lot of planning and hard work.

After load-in is complete, technical rehearsals begin.  These are long days at the theatre making sure every cue and every sound level is perfect and works with performers and other design elements.  This quickly moves into the preview process – where we work during the day making adjustments to the show, while giving public performances in the evening.  This process allows us to “test out” how a show works in front of an audience while making changes during the daytime rehearsals.  After we complete the preview process, a show is frozen – when we stop making changes, but continue to perform preview performances to practice the final show – until the show officially opens.

Once a show is open, the process of running & maintaining a project begins.  Some Broadway shows can run for years – and keeping them maintained is a whole other procedure.  It often starts with cross-training staff, which means that the various audio engineers on the show learn how to do each other’s primary jobs so they can cover each other when necessary.  The backstage audio engineer will often learn how to mix the show, and vice versa, as well as additional substitute staff training.  Gear is tested daily, and maintained with proper cleaning & replacement as needed.  This is in addition to executing eight or more performances per week.  The designers and production staff who work on the show will not be at the theatre every day, but will often visit to check in and make sure that things are running smoothly and supply support as needed.

When a Broadway show reaches the end of its run, all of the gear must then be loaded out and returned to the rental house.  Again, this is a multi-day process of removing every item that the show rented and returning it to the rental company.  Every piece of audio gear – from large speakers to the smallest adaptor – needs to be accounted for and returned.  If a piece of gear is missing, the show must pay the rental house for the replacement cost of the item.

Most Broadway theatres are considered historic landmarks, and therefore must be restored to their landmark state at the end of each production.  This work doesn’t always fall to the show’s staff – but is usually completed in the days following the end of load out.

What is important to note is that many people who work on Broadway are often working on several projects simultaneously.  It is not unusual for an independent contractor like myself to be working on the pre-production stage of one project while sitting in technical rehearsal for another.  It’s a huge balancing act that is often only accomplished by having a skilled team working with you.

How do you stay organized and focused? 

To stay organized, I take a lot of notes & write everything down.  95% of what I write down, I never look at again.  But, the process of taking notes has always been how I learn & remember things.  I recently moved to being paperless, which has been huge.  Finding the right software to use to keep files organized & to be able to find the information I need when I need it was key.

Staying focused is a different story.  I have often found that the best way to stay focused is to not do too much at once – not always an easy task.  Pacing myself & not leaving things to the last minute is key.  But also acknowledging that if I find my mind wandering or I get distracted, taking a break or walking away for a second (when possible) makes it easier to restart a project.

What do you enjoy the most about your job? 

All of the interesting people I meet, the amazing places I get to go, and regularly getting to be a part of “once in a lifetime” experiences.  I also love NOT working in a cubicle.

What do you like least?

Long hours & sore feet.  And constantly hustling for the next job.

If you tour, what do you like best?

I toured for about 7 years with various Broadway 1st National Tours.  I was very fortunate to be touring at a time when large shows did long sit-downs in big cities – more than they do now.  I loved bringing Broadway shows all over the country while having enough time to explore and learn about the places we were visiting.

What is your favorite day off activity?  

When I’m at home in NYC, I enjoy bike riding & yoga, and also having good food & drinks with friends.  When I’m traveling, I like to get lost in whatever city I am in – exploring, finding new things & meeting new people.

What are your long term goals? –

Getting more women hired as sound designers on Broadway – including myself.  Broadway has a long history of having a lot of women audio engineers.  But, very few women have reached the top levels of sound design – especially for large musicals.  Before the pandemic, only 2-3% of Broadway shows in a season were sound designed by women.  Since Broadway re-opened in 2023, closer to 8-10% of Broadway shows are designed by women – but a majority of those shows are done on smaller shows with smaller paychecks.  We can and must do better.  There are a lot of extremely talented women designers who are not being afforded the same opportunities as our male colleagues.

What if any obstacles or barriers have you faced?

The same barriers that almost every woman of my age who works in audio has experienced.  “Backwards and in heels” is a real thing – women have to work harder and be better to get half the distance of our male colleagues.  Women of my generation had to keep our mouths shut and tolerate – if not play along – with bad behavior and mistreatment.  It is getting better.  And I owe a lot to some of my younger women colleagues for teaching me to finally speak up.  I’m glad to see the culture is changing.

How have you dealt with them? 

Lots of dinners and drinks with the girls.  Having a strong support system of allies makes all the difference.  In recent years, feeling able to speak up when things are wrong has been a huge change from what we dealt with previously.  And just staying determined.

Advice you have for other women who wish to enter the field? 

Find the places that are the best ways for you to learn.  Not everyone will benefit from a college degree or a master’s program.  But you have to find out how to learn the skills required for the position you desire.  There are options.

Understand that you will always be marketing yourself.  Do not hesitate to reach out to the people you want to work with and introduce yourself.  They are rarely going to seek you out.  Know that, at some point in their career, they were doing the same thing to someone they admired.

And lastly – know where you want to be at the end of your career and plan for it as early as possible.  If that means having a family, or children, or retiring in the Caribbean, you have to think about it as early as possible.  (I admit that I am stealing that one from some amazing female colleagues who said it to me once).

Must have skills?

Theatrical Sound Design has become far more complicated than it was when I first started in the industry.  If you are going to work in commercial entertainment, you need to understand both artistic/creative design AND technical system design, even if your work is primarily focused on one or the other.  Having a baseline understanding of music and acoustics is important.  And lastly – computer networking.  Almost every aspect of professional audio involves networks now, and the more you know the better off you will be.

Favorite gear? 

iZotope plug-ins.  Neutron, Nectar, Ozone & RX Suites.  I use them as limitless tools while working in content creation, composition, editing, and post-production work.

Closing Thoughts

I’ve been in this industry for a very long time.  I started out in regional theatre, then off-Broadway, touring, and Broadway.  I’ve worked in every job there is in live theatre.  But I have also worked extensively in live television, concerts, corporate events, and sports.  I’m very proud of all of the work that I have accomplished – having depth to my skill set allows me to fluidly shift between jobs & provides me with more opportunities.  Not everyone can offer that.  This level of flexibility is essential if you are going to work in live entertainment – especially as an independent contractor.  The more you bring to the table, the more options that should be available to you.  Don’t pigeonhole yourself.  You will find amazing experiences in places you were not necessarily looking.

Understand that it’s still not uncommon to be one of the only women in the room.  Despite a lot of people’s best efforts, women are still not treated equally.  Even our closest colleagues don’t always realize that.  Be prepared – and find the people who are your true allies quickly.  It takes a lot of courage and resilience to get & stay here.

Don’t get down on yourself – you are not imagining how hard it is sometimes.  I know a lot of people who think they suffer from imposter syndrome.  Just know that you are not lesser than anyone else in the room – you are often just working with amazing people who are challenging your skills.  Challenge theirs in return.  You deserve to be there.

The Importance of Eras

As the end of another year has rolled around again, I find myself contemplating the passing of time, the changing of the seasons, and thinking about the future. It’s fascinating to observe the patterns and cycles in both nature and society, and the transformations they bring.

Sometimes, when a new cycle is upon us, we hold on very tightly to the past, to “the good old days” of the way things were, and we can be reluctant to let go. It can feel difficult to embrace the unknown and accept a season is over when, in fact, the world has moved on, and it would be better for us to willingly go with the flow and find another way. When a metaphorical door closes to us, we can keep throwing our bodies up against it and trying to pick the lock, or we can map out a new path for ourselves where we innovate with what we now have. Historically, humans are innately good at finding ways to adapt, create, and start anew, particularly when it comes to the arts.

The ending of the old and the beginning of the new

Musical eras have always intrigued me, from the evolution of Western classical music from the Medieval era to the modern day to the many genres and movements created within 20th-century popular music. It’s truly a wonder to behold how humanity’s hive mind works.

While the trends, sounds, and techniques of any period will be influenced by the instruments/equipment available and their capabilities or limitations, the push for mastery and development has always been relentless. Whenever new instruments and technologies have appeared, new eras have followed.

The invention of the piano was key to moving us from the Baroque into the Classical era, and it’s hard to imagine a world where it does not feature heavily and beautifully across jazz, pop, rock, and numerous other genres. With the birth of a new instrument, a wave of new compositions and virtuoso performers came, and continues to come, hundreds of years later.

The never-ending cheating debate

The expansion of having more instruments to play with can seem like a logical step to having more creative possibilities, but what about when inventions mean there is the possibility of less work to do for humans? I would argue that when technological developments make life “easier”, there is the potential for that creative energy to be used elsewhere if we can figure out where to focus it and view these tools in a productive, helpful manner.

The rise of programmed synthesizer and drum machine patterns that exploded in the 1970s and 80s sparked fears that these methods would curb creativity and detract from the essence of musicianship. While the pushing of a few buttons is unquestionably less “artistic” than playing every note of a piece live with the carefully considered velocity, dynamics, and expression required, it’s not always “better” in real life – I’m not sure that I could find a real-life musician who would prefer to play an extended version of Donna Summer’s I Feel Love on acoustic instruments for the sake of so-called “authenticity”, and equally, we would be moving backwards. The now-classic anthem, created entirely on a Moog, was controversial at the time, yet is often attributed to being the inception of a new electronic disco sound that heavily influenced the transition into the 1980s.

Taking detours and embracing change

But how do we innovate when it feels like life is being made more difficult for us, when obstacles are put in our way, and our intended path for creativity is at odds with the intentions of others? We must embrace the detours, and think outside the box in order to make something even better than what we had previously planned. When movie scores for Westerns were a large-scale affair featuring entire orchestras and more, it would have seemed impossible to take on a composer role for a film in the genre that came with a comparatively minute budget. Ennio Morricone created a workaround solution by using an electric guitar as the driving melodic force, and working with a smaller, eclectic collection of instruments. By making these adaptations, he created Spaghetti Western music, and invented an entirely new and uber-cool sub-genre from the financial limitations he had.

Change can be scary and unpredictable, and moving into the unknown and pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone is inherently uncomfortable in its nature, whether we choose it, or whether it is thrust upon us. We know what safety lies on the “before” side of change, however, it is only on the other side that infinite possibilities exist. We can approach change with an attitude of fear, or we can welcome it.

Our ever-changing world

When I was younger, mobile phones used to charge by the letter and restrict the length of SMS text messages that it was possible to send. I used to fear that the character limitations would lead to a new wave of widespread illiteracy and a lack of expression. Looking around today at the end of 2024, the technological developments available at our fingertips have equipped us with more virtual assistants, spell checks, and messaging mediums than you can shake a stick at. I can write a digital letter, send audio and video, URLs, pictures, gifs, emojis, and any number of files and artificially created content in seconds, and send it in an SMS. My younger fears are alleviated, and there are fewer opportunities for errors and more opportunities for expression than ever before, thanks to the progress we have made in recent years utilising these tools.

The modern-day era of music is a tricky one to define in the same way as previous ones. We are more connected than ever before, with instantaneous access to the aforementioned links, audio, video, and URLs to almost all recorded music. Musical genres are more fluid in the digital age as a result, however, we still have movements in the popular sphere in the form of trends, sounds, and techniques, as we always have. While I’m an optimist, I’m also a realist, and admittedly hang onto some of my youthful fear when it comes to the present state of our arts “literacy” – music education in the UK has been nothing short of obliterated over the last 15 years, and the live music industry was struggling well before the 2020 pandemic. These changes have been rather difficult to observe, and remain largely unsolved.

There’s additionally a little bit of fear in the current climate when it comes to the implications of AI in music creation, whether it will put working musicians out of jobs, and whether it will take the place of performers and composers in recorded music. The Musicians’ Union has continued to tirelessly campaign for the consent and compensation of musicians whose work has been used to train AI models. The cynic in me worries we are closing the stable door after the horse has bolted once again, as though we have learned nothing from the streaming industry refusing to properly compensate musicians over 20 years after the inception of digital sales. I fear that if the robots can’t come up with a solution for us, we’ll be in exactly the same financial and ethical dilemma with the newest digital developments in another 20 years.

That being said, if we can find a way to hold on through the uncertain “w8 4 it 2 get beta” period, history has shown time and again that it is possible to utilise budget cuts and massive technological developments as tools and springboards for innovation. As long as the human spirit remains unbroken, people will create, and perhaps the next era will have even more potential for creativity as in times gone by.

What the next era may hold

Without change, there is no growth or development. As a collective, we have moved from unamplified to amplified, acoustic to electric, and analog into digital, tirelessly pushing the boundaries of what is possible. We can keep singing the same old song if we like, but if we never learn a new one, we are forever stuck in a place that no longer exists. I sometimes wonder what life would sound like if my favourite artists had quit after their first album, or had merely echoed their early style without evolving. What a waste it would have been, to be stuck in a state of inertia and deny the world of so much joy. There’s a famous quote by Robin Sharma I always find motivating that states, “Don’t live the same year 75 times and call it a life.” There’s so much opportunity to transmute and alchemise our experiences into something else, over and over, like the changing seasons. Perhaps running at these new eras with open arms is key to making sure our potential contributions don’t go to waste.

From Stage to Screen – My First Days with Live TV 

Recently, I’ve found myself taking baby steps into the world of live television, including shows like Saturday Night Live and The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Having worked in many concert venues and theaters, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what I was walking into. But the complexities and precision of live TV are truly something I’ve never experienced before. Navigating this high-stakes world as a newcomer to this career has been an eye-opening challenge.

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is that in live TV, everything must be done correctly, quickly, at the exact right moment, and with total confidence. As an A2 in a TV studio, your role is crucial in ensuring that everything happening on stage is communicated clearly to everyone in the house, including FOH, monitors, and broadcast. At first, I assumed that set changes, commercial breaks, and changeovers were the least of my worries, but soon I realized how intentional each move needs to be, and how crucial it is to be aware of your surroundings. I’ve been told by others that working in a live TV studio is “like a dance,” where everyone moves around each other in sync, anticipating needs and avoiding disruptions.

This part of the job—finding my space in the studio and learning the flow of TV—has been the most unexpected challenge. As a newbie, it felt strange being one of the people giving orders or running the deck, especially surrounded by experienced stagehands and engineers. I was told that the technicians in the room rely on senses that go beyond the natural five: you need telepathy and intuition. I saw this to be very true! Communication is the heart of any successful collaboration, and in live TV, it’s even more vital.

The more I observe, the more I realize how many moving parts go into the magic of live television. It’s been a challenge finding the balance between being an active part of the team and being respectful of everyone’s space and time. In my first few days, I struggled with just figuring out how to be helpful without getting in the way or stepping in front of a camera! I realized I didn’t have to worry much about the technical aspects of the job, but learning the flow of the show, understanding when to step in, and gauging how I could best support the team.

I’ve since learned that anticipating needs, reading the room, and offering support without disrupting the workflow are key to building confidence in a live television environment. Every individual on the production team plays a vital role, and working together in sync is what makes the end result so successful.

One of the biggest parts of the job is working with talent. You’re their point of contact, and they’ll see your face more than anyone else’s. Whether you’re working with musicians, actors, or hosts, fostering clear communication and a positive working relationship is essential. I’ve learned how important it is to introduce yourself early on, establish a respectful line of

communication, and be clear about what you need from them. This helps prevent confusion and makes everyone feel more confident going into the show.

When working with a guest’s crew, I’ve realized that it’s not just about giving instructions—it’s about listening, too. A positive attitude goes a long way. When the crew feels confident, they perform better, and when the talent feels heard and supported, the entire production runs smoother. A calm, confident demeanor from the crew can make a huge difference in the quality of the show.

Both live television and concerts come with unique challenges and rewards. The precision required for live TV is a stark contrast to the high-energy, improvisational nature of concerts. But at the end of the day, the goal remains the same: to enhance the experience and leave the audience with a memorable, seamless show—whether they’re watching at home or sitting in the stands.

As I continue to grow in this field, I’m realizing more and more that no matter your skill level, stepping into the unknown can be intimidating. But it’s important to let the nerves of a new experience drive you to be better. Growth happens when we step out of our comfort zones, and I’m grateful to be welcomed into these new environments with open arms.

Approaching Involvement

At this moment, many of us find ourselves living in states of uncertainty about the future of our industry, insecurity regarding our personal rights and safety, and concern about the conditions we live, recreate, travel, and work in. As these stressors have impacted us in familiar and unfamiliar ways, we may also find ourselves lonely, needing help, seeking protection, hoping to distract ourselves, or in dire need of support. We may feel burnt out, overwhelmed, or hopeless. We may find ourselves instinctively seeking out mutual aid, community, or affinity groups. We may also find ourselves wanting to give — to make an impact, defend those being attacked, encourage others, or be of service. We may feel pulled in multiple directions while struggling to satisfy our personal self-care needs.

If you feel any of these things right now, you’re not alone.

All of these impulses lead us to questions about changing our level of availability within, commitment to, and engagement with the world around us. Let’s not shy away from that. Instead, let’s think about how to approach community involvement better than we have in the past; if it’s more important now than ever, we should treat it that way. This blog is about a spectrum of community-centric skills we can use to effectively give and receive in the spaces we have available to us — whether those spaces manifest as local gatherings or wide-reaching online discourse.

We need to start somewhere, so let’s start with relationships. Nothing that I write below will work particularly well if you’re not ready to open yourself up to new people. Forging new relationships is difficult, but when the world changes, we need to change too. The other side of that openness to new relationships is adapting our personal roles based on what others bring to the table. Get comfortable with both of those ideas, especially if your instinct right now is to hunker down. I invite you to do the opposite — stretch out, take up more real estate, and connect. It’s scary, but you’ll feel better once you make the active decision to let yourself into the light rather than hiding from it.

So: how do we create a situation for ourselves in which we feel like we belong in a space and can thrive there, even when it feels like our world is falling apart?

The first step is taking a down-to-earth look at what your skills, talents, personality strengths, and proximity to resources are like. Taking stock will reveal a wealth of information about how you can naturally contribute to the types of causes or spaces that you resonate with. I encourage you to get away from the computer for a bit, grab a pen and paper, and brainstorm about the type of projects that you:

No matter where you come from, you have a role that is useful to the causes you care about. Maybe you’re not particularly skilled in XYZ, but you can do ABC passionately and effectively — and perhaps you’ll want to find a space where you can be mentored on XYZ. Your unique set of practiced and not-so-practiced skills is useful. Take ownership over that.

Now, here’s the thing: we can’t personally champion every single cause we care about. So when you do this, narrow it down to one, two, or three things. Maybe it’s trans rights. Maybe it’s creating educational material for underprivileged groups and fighting for climate justice. Maybe it’s addressing sexual harassment in the touring industry. Whatever the combination of things that you want to fight for, don’t hesitate to accept that the seed is there.

It might take a couple of days; sleep on it. Narrowing down what you value right now may take more than one sitting and maybe a talk or two with a trusted friend. But once you feel good about what you possess the energy to work on right now, great — we’ve got a seed to work with.

Second, let’s talk about different types of communities.

No group, cause, or non-profit can satisfy all of the things we as human beings need in our village to thrive. We need an array of different types of people, places, and resources in the same way a child needs variety in diet, caretakers, and social skills to grow up well-rounded and strong. We may need more of one thing than another based on our personality, too.

Let’s explore for a second what types of audio communities exist, no matter where we are in our careers:

While these might take different levels of importance depending on where we’re at, I believe that these categories — or any additional ones that came to mind as you went down the list — provide the balance of nourishment necessary for the seeds we individually bring to the garden.

But what if you can’t find fertile soil to begin with? What if you search and can’t find the space to germinate? Where do you turn to?

There are many lists of resources that exist to help you find those spaces, and I have accumulated some of those below for your exploration. But I think there’s a different issue here, and it starts with the general approach to searching. If you are struggling to find a place where you feel like you belong, sit with it in honesty and think about these things:

Looking for a space that’s right for you may take you down unexpected paths. Sometimes, those paths can be triggering, reintroduce you to people you found challenging to be around, or remind you of ways you’ve acted in the past that you weren’t proud of. All of this is a part of growing and getting to a place where we can show up.

Third, once we do find a space we feel good about showing up to, how do we navigate it from sunrise to sunset and through the night, too?

A common issue I see is that members of communities — myself included — don’t always take the time to understand the identities, perspectives, and context of the leaders of the organization. What is the structure? What are the limitations of the folks in charge, including time and money? What are fair expectations for their investment, and what are not? How are they nourished to optimize the sustainability of their efforts while nourishing everyone else? For example, if you find yourself getting critical that there aren’t enough events or training happening, or perhaps that the events don’t cover topics you think are important, then introduce solutions and assess what you need to make them happen. What you are looking to have in a community is likely something that is shared by others, so if you create something that you see a need for, others will probably recognize their own need for it, too.

Or, let yourself take the follower position — which is no less important than the leader(s)! — and support a project that you believe in without being at the forefront of the discussion.

Especially if you’re in the early part of your career like myself, you may find yourself wanting to be a part of projects that would involve you doing unpaid volunteer work that makes the world better. There’s a difference between that and what we typically think about as unpaid labor. I invite you to consider breaking out of an understanding of your effort based on capitalism and instead think about opening doors, preventing gatekeeping, and being in service. Think of the intangible things that we can exchange that have nothing to do with money. If something is nourishing your soul and keeping you afloat, what does it matter if you aren’t making money off of it? I invite you to approach any volunteer work you find yourself doing as a combination of love and effort that gives back to you in a different form of currency. If you can’t see it in a positive way, instead of as unpaid labor, you shouldn’t be volunteering your time or energy. Once you start to grow jaded about it, make room for someone else to take over.

Listen to how the operation functions, identify where the shortcomings are with an open mind that you might be the exact person to solve those problems, and gather your resources.

From there, maybe we can build a bigger garden slowly and carefully around one that already exists. Or maybe we need to plant our seeds next to someone else’s that are complementary to ours. Maybe we need to plant a few seeds that aren’t quite meant to make it before we get a good solid one sprouted.

Now that you’ve done some planning, asked some questions, and are working and making moves — no matter how small they are — let’s think about the fourth step.

Let’s say you’ve got a few organizations you’re a part of that you care about and are gradually finding your voice in. This is gonna sound harsh: you need to keep showing up. If you don’t show up, you’re not a participant — you’re just a member. You can’t benefit or contribute without showing up. Being associated with an organization and not participating means you’re not engaged. Showing up means you are acknowledging that joining that weekly Zoom call or being present at that yearly event is important to you and that you care. Sometimes you can’t, and that’s okay.

But sometimes, there are other factors besides work, family needs, meetings, or appointments that you’ll find preventing you from doing so. Let’s talk about it.

One thing I have struggled with in the past is showing up when I don’t feel 100%. Sometimes, you will only have the energy to show up 50%. Or even 25%. But hear me loud and clear: that’s when the magic happens. When you only have so much to give, when you need to delegate to accomplish something, or when you are clearly in need of support, that is when you feel the power of community. That is when you experience others’ gifts and learn to receive. That is when you experience how it feels to be on the other side of all the energy you put forward in your work. Through the various trials that individuals in a community are going through, we discover that we are all both leaders and followers in our own ways; it’s just that sometimes we find ourselves talking, and other times we need to be listening. When we go through extensive periods where we can’t seem to show up how we want to, we learn about what other people might need when they are struggling.

This is all a discovery process, and showing up regardless of how much your self-doubt or imposter syndrome insists you stay home is an important pattern to establish for your involvement now and in the future.

Showing up also includes reading, appreciating, listening to, or amplifying other people’s work. It means engaging not just by being present but knowing your interest and enthusiasm for what others around you are working on has a positive impact on them.

So…invest in others as you keep showing up!

Let’s review:

  1. acknowledge that something is needed and that you have skills that are important to that happening — which is exciting! (you have a seed)
  2. search for spaces that resonate, which may mean processing some discomfort or past experiences first (which is necessary for a healthy, safe spot of even ground to start)
  3. make moves thoughtfully and graciously to make a sustainable presence for yourself in this new space (strategize your seed sowing)
  4. keep showing up (monitoring for pests, watering, and adding nutrients) as time goes on even if you need to ask for help to do so

This isn’t the end of our little sprout’s story, of course, and there could another point that says: know when the season has ended.

Sometimes, our relationships with certain communities do need to end or be reduced in scope. That doesn’t necessarily mean that something dramatic or upsetting happened, but simply that it’s time to move on. Everything has a cycle, just like at our gigs: we all start somewhere and work our way up. As we move on, it is inevitable to leave certain things behind. While those situations can be saddening, that shift makes space for others to progress and form new relationships, too.

Keep on progressing as you explore what spaces are healthy for you and which ones aren’t, and trust your instinct about whether you need to pause first, process first, or get straight to work.

Rest assured that there are people all around you who feel the way you do and that we will most effectively survive this (waves into the air) together by making our voices heard and acknowledging our changing needs.

Below are some places to explore on your journey. Because of my background, many of these fall under the categories of live sound and/or theatre sound.

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Communities, Organizations & Associations:

AES — https://aes2.org/

Association of Sound Designers in Production (UK) — https://www.associationofsounddesigners.com/

Audio Nerd Book Club — https://audionerdbookclub.org/

Black Theatre Network — https://www.blacktheatrenetwork.org/

OISTAT (Organization of International Scenographers, Theatre Architects, and Technicians) — https://oistat.org/

Themed Entertainment Association — https://www.teaconnect.org/

The Parity Database (NYC) — https://theparitydatabase.org/

TSDCA (Theatrical Sound Designers and Composers Association) — https://tsdca.org/

USITT (United States Institute of Theatre Technology) — https://www.usitt.org/

Wingspace NYC — https://wingspace.com/

Women’s Audio Mission — https://womensaudiomission.org/

Some Events and Networking Opportunities to Explore:

InfoComm — https://www.infocommshow.org/

Live Design International (LDI) Show — https://www.ldishow.com/

Prague Quadrennial (PQ) — https://pq.cz/

Sound Kitchen — http://www.sound-kitchen.net/

Organizations that can support you if you’re struggling right now:

Behind the Scenes Help — https://wp.behindthescenescharity.org/

Nami — https://www.nami.org/

Open Path Therapy — https://openpathcollective.org/

Therapy for Black Girls — https://therapyforblackgirls.com/

Trans Life Line — https://translifeline.org/

Trevor Project — https://www.thetrevorproject.org/

Production on Deck’s List of Databases — https://www.productionondeck.com/databases

^ This page is a treasure trove of resources with something for everyone, primarily consisting of contact directories for theatre artists.

Review of A Song for a New Day

So far the books I have reviewed for SoundGirls are all non-fiction.  While I would love to start the year off with escapism in an idyllic setting filled with joyous music, I must share with you a book that will ignite and inspire.  Sarah Pinsker’s debut novel A Song for a New Day is a book written for us, the SoundGirl community.  Fittingly, Pinsker herself is also a singer-songwriter with the band Stalking Horses.  A Song for a New Day however caught attention for being published at the right time, earning a Nebula Award for Best Novel in 2019.  Yes, 2019, the year that the world stood still.

If you look for A Song for a New Day in the bookstore you will find it amongst the Sci-Fi shelves, but that broad genre does it a disservice.  This novel fits squarely in the speculative fiction subgenre of science fiction.  Speculative fiction is the near future where you will find The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood and other martian-less stories.  The majority of A Song for a New Day occurs after a pandemic where there are laws against gathering in large groups.  Unlike COVID-19, the disease leaves visible scarring and no longer returns as a seasonal illness.  It also is not spoken of by name, instead the characters refer to “Before” and “After.”  In fact many of the large scale changes and political actors are not the focus, but rather the lives of everyday people.

A Song for a New Day follows 2 women in mismatched timelines as they live during and after a pandemic.  Luce Cannon, the first, is a musician on the brink of becoming a big touring star.  Rosemary Laws, the other, is stuck in a dead-end service job for a mega-corporation in a rural farm in the middle of the country.  It was surreal reading their stories and looking at how the COVID-19 pandemic has played out 5 years in.  Luce and Rosemary’s reality took remote work and social distancing more seriously, implementing strict occupancy limits and self-driving cars that are like individual high speed trains with dedicated roads.  Constant connectivity is aided by the portable “hoodie,” a garment integrated with a display, speakers and a wide-variety of augmented reality features.  Several companies took control of the pandemic-led disruption: Superwally, an amalgamation of Amazon and Walmart making same-day deliveries standard; and StageHoloLive, what Ticketmaster and Spotify wished they could be.  It is not a big leap to see our real future as similar, especially if you are tuned into the news.

Pisker keeps the story engaging by switching the two perspectives.  Their character growths are different, but related and makes the reader ask difficult questions.  What do we do with our knowledge and position?  How do we live with the new normal?  If we resist, how do we resist?  How do we build community when we are isolated?  How do we remember the last event before the world changed?  Even as we are forced to confront these questions, the story gives brevity with music.  The unique background of live music that Pisker brings infuses vibrancy and excitement to each musical performance.  What StageHoloLive attempts with the hoodies, Pisker succeeds with words to immerse the reader in all 5 senses.

If you are looking for a live music experience in book format, A Song for a New Day provides.  However, you will also hit with reality, dialed up to 11.  Fiction is a reflection of our present.  As a mirror it can help us look at ourselves as if we are strangers.  This perspective informs us on what actions to take.  The message from A Song for a New Day is that the show continues.  How do we keep the music going in 2025 and beyond?

Designing and Mixing My First Shows

Since becoming a theatre sound student last September, I’ve had the opportunity to work on two productions in two different spaces. The first was our Christmas pantomime, Rapunzel, and the second was one of the all-time great musicals, A Chorus Line.

First, Rapunzel. I was warned that I’d be thrown in the deep end on this one, and that was certainly true. It was one of the biggest shows of the year, running for two weeks in our 250-seat theatre. We had two shows a day for most of that time: schools performances in the morning and general public in the evening. As sound designer my work started in October, attending production meetings with the director, lighting designer and DSM and going to as many rehearsals as possible. In keeping with pantomime tradition, there were a lot of comical and bombastic sound effects required. One of the most fun to create was a bubbling, hissing cauldron in the witch’s lair. It involved blowing bubbles through a straw in a bowl of water, capturing the sound made by water coming into contact with a stovetop, mixing the two together and adding a lot of reverb! I was quite proud of how it turned out.

I’ll be honest: tech week was incredibly stressful, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I had to program a lot of pretty complex sequences in QLab which, considering I’d never done it before, was definitely one of my proudest achievements. There were various technical challenges to overcome and a few tensions along the way, which is to be expected during any tech run. I think it’s fair to say every department struggled with the first dress rehearsal. However, everything suddenly seemed to click into place afterwards and by the time we opened, everyone had found their flow.

As well as designing, I was also required to mix the show: something I know would not have been the case in a professional environment, but in this case we didn’t have the luxury of a larger sound department. My desk was a Yamaha QL5 and we had a cast of 19 actors and six dancers, with 14 radio mics at our disposal (swaps and breakages were involved). The moment of terror described by many theatre sound engineers just prior to their first ever show is now 100% relatable to me! Dress had gone well, soundcheck had gone well, but part of me was still thinking, “Is it too late to run away?” That nervous energy remained before each subsequent show, but I soon found I was able to channel it into pure focus as soon as the curtain went up. And when we got to bows, applause and cheers, that feeling of exhilaration would hit and I’d think: That’s why I wanted to do this!

The feedback I got from my tutors, the director, cast and my fellow crew, as well as the response from audiences, gave me confidence and assured me that all of the hard moments had been worth it. I certainly understand now why people say pantomime is one of the toughest things you can work on, but when it goes well, it’s so rewarding.

After Christmas it was straight into rehearsals for A Chorus Line. This show took place in our smaller studio theatre and was more straightforward in that there were no sound effects required, just tracks (and in this case QLab was operated by our DSM). I used an Allen & Heath analogue desk this time, so it was really good to get experience of a different setup. We had a cast of 15 and needed 14 radio mics and one handheld for the director character. Inevitably there were some breakages, which made mic swaps a bit of a challenge as the majority of the characters were on stage most of the time, with no interval. It was a bit easier later on in the show, as we had solos from Diana, Cassie and Paul which provided more opportunity for swaps.

My biggest takeaways from these two experiences have been:

Betty Wright: A Pioneer Who Refused to Be Overlooked

Black women have been the backbone of music since the beginning, yet their contributions have been consistently overlooked, borrowed from, and rarely given the credit they deserve. From Ma Rainey and Bessie Smith shaping the blues to Big Mama Thornton’s raw power and Sister Rosetta Tharpe inventing rock and roll, Black women laid the foundation for the music that continues to inspire generations. But despite their influence, they were often pushed aside while others profited from their work. This isn’t just about artists—it’s about producers, engineers, songwriters, and label owners, too. And that’s why it’s so important to talk about pioneers like Betty Wright, who not only took control of her own career but also created opportunities for others.

Betty Wright wasn’t just a powerhouse vocalist; she was a force in the music industry. She made history as the first Black woman to run her own label, Ms. B Records, proving that an independent artist could achieve mainstream success. In 1988, she became the first Black female artist to have a gold album (Mother Wit) on her own label—something unheard of at the time. She refused to let an industry that wasn’t built for her dictate her path. Instead, she carved out her own lane and thrived.

But Betty wasn’t just looking out for herself. She was a mentor, a producer, and a guide for the next generation. One of her most notable projects was mentoring and co-producing a then-16-year-old Joss Stone’s debut album, The Soul Sessions. Recorded at Miami’s legendary Criteria Studios, Betty brought in seasoned soul musicians—Benny Latimore, Little Beaver, and Timmy Thomas—to ensure the record had an authentic, lived-in sound. She had a way of pulling out the deepest emotions from an artist, helping them tap into something real, something raw.

Her reach went far beyond one album. Betty produced or collaborated with artists across genres—Gloria Estefan, Jennifer Lopez, Tom Jones, Snoop Dogg, Lil Wayne, and more. And she didn’t stop evolving. Well into her 50s, she reinvented herself again, teaming up with The Roots in 2011 for Betty Wright: The Movie. In an industry that prioritizes youth and where men still dominate behind the scenes, Betty Wright stands as a reminder that talent, wisdom, and impact don’t have an expiration date.

Joss Stone once said that Betty had a way of turning everyday conversations into songs. That’s who she was—real, intuitive, and always listening for the truth in the music. Her legacy isn’t just about the hits she sang or the records she produced; it’s about the doors she kicked down for others, especially Black women, to walk through. And that’s exactly why we have to keep telling her story. –Lisa Marshall Retro soul/folk-funk singer, songwriter, and producer. Passionate about authentic storytelling in music and keeping the legacy of soul alive. Connect with me at https://lisamarshallmusic.com/

Rosie Lowe: Producer, Songwriter, Recording Artist

Though British singer-songwriter Rosie Lowe has sustained a career as an artist for over a decade and has been recording her own music since her college days, it is with her August 2024 release Lover, Other that she took the lead on production, songwriting, and tracking. The result is a musical tapestry that crosses genres, spanning influences from R&B and electronic music to choral compositions. Her collaborators have included Little Simz, Jay Electronica, and Duval Timothy, with whom she released an album called Son in 2021.

People know you professionally as a recording artist and performer, but you have an audio background as well. Tell us about that.

I’ve always recorded my own music. When I was in Goldsmith’s University in London, we were doing a songwriting course, but you had to choose your limitations. My limitation was that I was only going to record using my voice. I was like, “I don’t want to be relying on anyone else to do this for me,” so I bought a computer and I learned Logic, got all of that equipment and spent some time with it, and it was the best thing that I did. Now I pick people that I want to collaborate [with] because I love their sound, but I think that early on, it was really important for me to do that stuff myself, not rely on someone else to make me sound how they thought I should sound. I’ve been recording and producing myself ever since, but I’ve collaborated quite a lot with producers over the years, and for this latest album, I really made a decision to steer the boat a bit more. I still collaborated, but I hand-picked where and how.

It’s interesting how you mentioned the first project that you gravitated toward being so voice-centered, because I noticed that the songs that you really took the helm on on your most recent album Lover, Other are vocal arrangements that are extremely layered and almost choir-like.

I love choral work. I love vocals as well. It’s where I feel most comfortable in a way, but also what I want to hear a lot of the time. Recording vocals is such a specific skill set, very different from producing. I actually made the decision on this album that I didn’t want to record in any soundproof rooms. I was wanting to record in open rooms and let that outside in. Some of my favorite records were recorded in that way, where you can hear stuff on the vocals, you can hear people talking, you can hear the sound of a car going by or whatever. And it’s all recorded in one take in a room. I love that. I love when recordings have life on them.

Where did you record?

At the beginning of this process, I just wanted to travel as much as possible. My main intention was to have as much fun as possible, because you never know if it’s going to be the last album you get to make. I was on the way to possibly having a child; you just never know. I reduced my studio to, like, a suitcase, and I just picked a few items. I first got on a plane to Catalonia in Spain, to a residential, and began writing there, and returned there about six times. It was just like heaven on earth. When I was there, I was in an annex that was attached to this big Spanish farmhouse. I traveled to from there to Florence, South France, Berlin, Sri Lanka, Devon, London. In Florence, there was this beautiful chapel. I sung some vocals in there that I then sampled. I recorded some of the vocals for “Sundown” in our empty flat, because we had to strip it out to renovate it. I [wanted] to record the vocals there, because there’s so much history and meaning for the song in that flat. It was the last time that I was there with my friend Steven, who the song was about.

It sounds like, from the church to the empty flat, you were going for a lot of natural reverb in your surroundings.

Yeah, absolutely. I really wanted just to create as natural sounding things as possible, and keep things quite raw. So if there was, like, a dog barking on the vocal, I wasn’t going to redo it. And it was the same with actually recording the vocals. I was only letting myself do full takes, and then trying to stay pretty true to the takes. I was trying to get myself away from the computer as much as possible, because I find that I’m a perfectionist. Really, I don’t think my best work is when I’m in that perfectionist head space, because actually, as a listener, I’m not interested in hearing like a perfect vocal. I’m interested in hearing a vocal that is free and means something.

Can you describe your studio in a bag?

It changed a little bit as I went, but it was a (Boss) SP 303. I ran a lot of the sounds from the album through the compressor on that, and I used it as a little affecting unit, as well as a little sampler. My Zoom recorder: I took that with me in my handbag, basically for the whole year and I would just record anywhere I was–little birds or my vocals somewhere, or a conversation or something, and I would layer that under things as well. I bought an (Isla Instruments) SP-2400 through the process. You can get samples on there really quick. You can also record really quickly, so it was really useful throwing stuff out and being like, “oh, dinner’s in 20 minutes. I’m just going to make something.” It was a bit more intuitive. I had my UA interface, a few mics. I had a Marantz tape recorder that I was recording a lot of the vocals onto, and a little MIDI keyboard. There was a Reslo microphone. I had a few ribbon microphones. I wish I could sing on ribbons on stage, but it’s just not possible.

Does anyone stand out as sort of a mentor, someone that you’ve learned a lot of your skills from, who elevated your approach to mixing and producing?

Dave Okumu, who was a long-term producer and collaborator and friend of mine, was definitely like a mentor, not necessarily technically as much as life-wise. They are just a very wise soul, and always encouraged me to kind of block out the noise, not listen to what people think I should be, or what other people’s opinions are of me, and just carry on, stay focused on my own path. So that’s been pretty amazing. He would always say, “is it something that you’re going to be proud of doing 10 years down the line? If it’s not, then you probably shouldn’t do it,” and I think that was really good advice. But on this album, there was one person in particular that was incredibly influential: Harvey Grant. He’s one of the best pianists I’ve ever come across. He’s an organist and just an absolute wizard on piano and harmony. He did all the string arrangements on the album, that I’d then respond to with vocal arrangements, and then we’d do it as, like a call and response. A lot of the time, in the studio, you tend to lean on the person who can do things quickest and with ease. A lot of moments where he could probably do something quicker than me, he was like, “no, no, you do that.” I think that he was really integral at being a bit of a cheerleader and pushing me to actually see things through myself sometimes, where a lot of other people I have worked with in the past would have just sat down at the computer and done it.

What advice do you have for other performers who want to extend their skill set behind the board, so to speak?

Just doing it is the best advice. Leaning into things that aren’t necessarily your skill set can bring about the most exciting sounds. Generally, in life, it’s a really good thing to do things you’re not good at. You can be really surprised by what that brings up in a positive way. A lot of the time with music production, there’s this sense that there’s a right way to do it and a wrong way to do it, but I really don’t believe in that. I don’t think it really matters how you get to the end point, as long as it represents what you imagined it to be.

Do you have any advice for women and girls in particular?

My experience is, if there are men around that can do it, they probably will. [Try] to get it done yourself behind closed doors, chiseling away and not being scared to push through what it is that you want. There’s a lot of egos in this industry, and sometimes, if you don’t have much of an ego, then you just have to kind of pretend that you do. I don’t go into studio being like, “No, I’m doing that.” But I can be like, “I don’t think that’s quite what I imagined.” There’s a lot of incredible, amazing, supportive men, and I think it’s just about finding your crew and sticking with them, but also working with other women. I love writing with other women so much. You can just open up and write a song with so much joy and ease in my experience.

More on Rosie Lowe:

https://rosielowe.bandcamp.com/

Selected Interviews with Rosie Lowe:

August 2024: Composer Magazine

August 2024: Clash

August 2024: F Word Magazine

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