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Production Audio

 

Before Mean Girls was planning to hit the road again, I got the opportunity to work on the re-start of the Cats tour as the production audio. That was a job I had never considered myself remotely capable of pre-pandemic, but as the world started to open back up, I was itching for a chance to get back into a theatre and more than ready for what I now viewed as a challenge instead of an impossibility.

I’m sure more than a few people reading this have never heard of production audio before. It’s not a job that’s billed on the front of the playbill like the designer, and they’re only with the show to get it up and running, so you’re not going to see them in the theatre when you go to watch a show. So what do they actually do?

 

So. Very. Much. They’re responsible for the logistics of taking a show from theory to reality. Given paperwork from the designer, they interface with production, design, and the shop to get all the equipment needed and figure out how everything goes together. How will all the gear fit into racks? What cables do you need to connect everything? Do you need infrastructure for MIDI or timecode? Networked computers so you can operate amps, consoles, or programs remotely? Who in the crew will need com and/or video and how does it get to them? Which speakers will need rigging hardware and do you know where they’re going to go or should you bring multiple options?

It’s a parade of endless questions

Which requires an extremely organized person, a good communicator, and a lot of technical knowledge. My pre-COVID hesitation had always been the last part. I knew I was organized and could keep people in the loop, but I know the tech-heavy aspects of sound don’t hold my interest nearly as much as the more artistic side of things, and I’d always assumed that meant I would be a disaster in such a job.

Thankfully, with the tour re-mounting instead of being a brand new production, the system was already built and sitting in a warehouse. That removed the most complicated technical part of the job from my plate, plus I’d worked with the original designer and production team before, so I was familiar with how they built their shows. That was actually why I got the call for the job: I may never have done production before, but I knew how to tour and what I’d be working with.

With that part already taken care of, my job was mostly coordination and improving efficiency. On a new show, the crew has two or three weeks in the shop to get all the gear, rack it up, cable, and test everything. For the remount, we took the existing system back to the shop and we had two weeks to make the changes the designer and production manager had agreed on so the show could load in and out faster. (It was going to a schedule with shorter stops and more frequent moves.) I had a list of items that were getting cut (under-balcony speakers, remote com stations, etc) and substitutions that were being made (drums mics swapping out for an e-kit, the console changing over from an SD7 to an SD10), as well as evaluating anything we could tweak to make the touring crew’s life easier.

The shop crew consisted of me as the production audio, the A1, A2, and a few locals who are audio people that work on or around Broadway. I was in charge of hiring the local crew which was something completely new to me, but I was fortunate to have friends in the NYC area who were veterans of plenty of shop builds and were both available to work and willing to help me navigate a job I had never done before. Pro tip: hire people smarter than you and listen to them. A large portion of the success of the show can be directly attributed to my shop crew. They helped me work through technical questions, pointed out when I’d missed things or might have incorrect information, and offered advice when I needed help or they knew a better solution. With their help, I didn’t have to know all the technical answers and could lean on their expertise.

At the end of the two weeks, we packed everything on a truck, and the A1, A2, and I went to tech. Now I was back in familiar territory, just in a different role. Instead of loading in the show in my usual role as the A1, my job as production was to take care of setting up anything that the road crew shouldn’t have to touch on a normal load in or out: cameras that live in electrics truss, speakers that are mounted to set pieces, setting up for an orchestra rehearsal that would only happen in tech, etc. My goal was to always be one step ahead of everyone else, whether that was having tech tables set up before designers came in, making sure speakers had the correct hardware and were ready for the crew to set up, or ordering supplies to make sure we had everything we’d need.

I liked this part of the production process the best. After almost a decade on tour, I’d tried many ways to streamline shows and I knew what worked, what didn’t, and what could make a project less of a pain. So I rigged up speakers, spiked placement, color-coded cables, and did my level best to make the system as easy as possible to move.

All in all, I consider my first go at production a success. Did I do everything perfectly? Nope, definitely not. But the fact that I was willing to ask for help and advice meant that most of the problems I encountered were minor or the crew knew it was an honest mistake and were willing to give me some grace while I fixed it. Am I going to change my career trajectory now that I know I wouldn’t be an abject failure at production? Again, no. It was empowering to try something new and I truly enjoyed the work, but in the shop I still found myself wishing every once in a while that I was the one building the racks instead of answering endless emails and phone calls, printing labels, and fielding questions. In tech, I occasionally itched to push faders instead of sitting at my tech table placing yet another online order and looking over what seemed like endless lists of projects to do and fixes to make. On the other hand, I wouldn’t automatically turn down the opportunity as I had in the past. It was gratifying to see my to-do list slowly dwindle down as we went through tech and I loved the feeling of accomplishment when I knew I’d made some part of the tour just a little bit easier to load in. Since it was the A2’s first tour, I was also able to give him advice of pitfalls he should avoid and the best ways I’d found to speed up my workflow. Touring is a very odd combination of skills, and it was good to know I could pass on my accumulated knowledge to make someone else’s life easier.

This past 18 months of pandemic gave me a good opportunity to reevaluate my skills and realize that, not only was I capable of more than I thought, but I had a wonderful community around me who wanted to see me succeed and was willing to help make that happen. So, maybe, as the entertainment world comes back to life, try something new. You might find yourself pleasantly surprised!

The SoundGirls Podcast Seeks Volunteers

The SoundGirls Podcast is seeking volunteers to assist our wonderful hosts Katie and Tori with administration duties, which include

This is remote work

Volunteers will receive a thank you package and a letter of recommendation.

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SoundGirls Virtual Conference All-Access Passes Raffle

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Collaborating With Another Editor

Here are a few things to take into account when you work with another editor on the same project:

Communication Is Key

I know this sounds obvious, but for a successful partnership, there has to be communication. And with sound, it’s essential as well. Usually, you’ll split sections to be covered by each editor, and often, there are elements or builds that are going to overlap or repeat in both sections. Before starting to edit, it’s always good to establish who is covering what and what strength each person has to offer for the project. Without communicating, you can end up doing double the work, or going in totally different directions with the sound palette for the show.

Sharing Your Builds

When you share your sound builds with another editor, it is important to take into account the flexibility of your build. Sometimes the exact same build is not going to work every single time it gets repeated throughout an episode, or throughout the show in general. Therefore, it’s important to have the sections of the build separated when you’re sharing it with another editor, printed down to one track. That way, the other editor will have the flexibility to manipulate the build to adjust for differences in timing or creative changes when repeated.

Here is an example of a shared SFX build.

Here is an example of a shared SFX build

Be Clear In Your Labeling

When sharing your builds and established sound effects, you need to make sure you are being as clear as possible. Proper labeling is key. Those you are collaborating with should be able to reference your sound design builds and effects easily, without having to waste time figuring out which sound matches each element in the picture. Often times we will export a session for a specific build, tracked out, and labeled for easy reference. This makes it easy for me to import the session data whenever the recurring material shows up in my work and is easily shared with other editors for the same purpose. In these sessions, I like to use either markers or empty clip groups above the build, labeling them to indicate their use. It also helps to build these sessions with both the full sound build together, followed by another iteration where the different parts are separated out, so whoever goes into editing the show can easily recognize how the build works and plays.

An example of this would be a laser gun power sequence. This could be a sequence where we hear the gun power-up, shooting, and then impacting the target. I’ll include the original build and timing, followed by individual chunks of design for each action (the power-up, the shots, the impacts) spaced out and labeled for clarity on their use.

Sharing Ambiences And Backgrounds

Established sounds for locations need to stay consistent. It’s very important to keep them the same throughout the episode unless a change is called for by the story. You should talk beforehand with your fellow editor to determine who will cover specific ambiences that may repeat between your work. As you work, if you feel you need to change something or think it’s necessary to add or subtract an element from the ambience, always communicate with all editors on the project.

These are some important examples to take into account when working with another editor to ensure a smooth collaboration and create the best possible soundscape for the project.

Interview with Anna-Lee Craig, A2 for Hamilton on Broadway

As I’ve outlined in previous blogs, getting advice and guidance from role models and mentors is a huge part of why I have been able to make a career in theatrical sound thus far. I’ve gotten to develop relationships with a bunch of amazing glass-ceiling crushing women, many of whom are mixing and designing at the highest levels on Broadway and elsewhere. There are other folks in theatre whose work I have simply admired from afar; you might even call me a “superfan” of theirs. And Hamilton A2 Anna-Lee Craig is certainly one of those humans!

ALC, as she is known, is someone I have looked up to for a few years now. Not only is she working on one of the most well-known Broadway shows running right now, but she is doing it as the parent of twin toddlers! And did I mention she designed a new style of mic rig for Hamilton that has now been NAMED after her?! Total badass. In fact, so much badassery that I couldn’t possibly fit it all into one blog!

So, without further ado, I am so pleased to be able to share Part 1 of my profile of ALC in her own words! Check back for Part 2 in early 2022, where we will discuss Hamilton specifically and the challenges of being a parent of young kids with a full-time Broadway gig.

Responses have been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Want to learn more about ALC and the sound design of Hamilton? Check out the two episodes of the “Hamilcast” podcast in which she is featured! https://www.thehamilcast.com/anna-lee-craig/ She is also part of the team that was interviewed for the Hamilton episode of the podcast “Twenty Thousand Hertz”: https://www.20k.org/episodes/hamilton. You can find her on Instagram @frecklessly7 and on twitter @craigalc.

What is your theatre sound “origin story”?

I went to school at James Madison University. Originally, I was focused on performance, I had acted in all the school plays in my high school, but I also had an interest in the technical aspects. Fall semester of my freshman year, my first crew assignment was helping the sound designer, a Senior named Jared Singer, strike after a dance concert and we really hit it off. I assisted him on his next sound design and winter break I knew I wanted to change my focus from performance to sound design. I love how sound can transport an audience to a time, a space, or a state of mind. I love how it can be wielded subtly and still have a dramatic impact on a scene.

What was your first professional job in theatre?

I was an A/V Intern at the Santa Fe Opera the summer after my Sophomore Year.

Was there a particular teacher or mentor who encouraged you to pursue a career in sound design?

So many. One professor, Dr. Dennis Beck, I still work with. He taught me the value of deep collaboration or building a narrative in step with a director, and I really think I’ve taken that lesson with me in all aspects of my work.

What jobs or networking opportunities did you avail yourself of in college that helped you prepare to break into the job market in New York?

I attended USITT (http://www.usitt.org/) every year while in college, which definitely helped me get my position at Santa Fe Opera. Many of my subsequent jobs came through word of mouth, recommendations from professionals I worked with either at summer stock or when they were guest designers at JMU. My big break came through KCACTF (Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival – https://www.kennedy-center.org/education/opportunities-for-artists/pre-professional-artist-training/kcactf/) where I competed with one of my sound designs. That won me a stipend to intern at Williamstown Theatre Festival which is ultimately how I met most of my future bosses, including Nevin Steinberg (sound designer of Hamilton).

Sidenote from Becca: I love this answer because it really highlights the importance of networking in our industry, and how the best thing that you can do for yourself is to get into those rooms where people you want to work with/for will be! I too got my first professional job because of attending a USITT conference and can trace many jobs I have gotten since then to the networks I have established by being a part of TSDCA and working at places like Williamstown Theatre Festival. I also want to acknowledge that huge barriers, both systemic and financial, still exist that stop otherwise qualified people from getting into these rooms to compete for these jobs. Attending conferences like USITT in-person can be cost-prohibitive for many people, and college students may not be able to get approval to miss school days to do so. And while the formerly “pay-to-play” internship at Williamstown specifically has been abolished in favor of a paid position called “Second Assistant,” much more work has to be done there and at other summer stock theatres to open these opportunities up to folks who may not be able to take low-wage (or no wage) work, or who do not have theatre sound classes/programs at their schools, or who are not financially able to study theatre at the university level at all. Our workforce will not diversify unless we radically change how we see folks as “qualified” or “having the right experience,” and move towards paying living wages across all 50 states, even at the entry-level. Ok, back to ALC!

Did you move to NYC right after college? Why or why not?

I stayed in Harrisonburg for an extra school year working as the Production Audio Intern at JMU’s performing arts center. It was a steady job, and I was unsure of what I was going to do next, so I took that year to save money and figure my next steps out. I was on the fence about whether to go to grad school or not.

What was your path to joining the union?

I worked for a couple of designers while I was freelance in NYC. I had been working as an A2 on Off-Broadway shows for Nevin Steinberg, and in the summer of 2013, he asked me if I was interested in going on the first national tour of Porgy and Bess. That’s the show that got me my ACT Card.

I really feel like getting in the union was when my career really started to ramp up. But also, maybe my “break” was even earlier, maybe it was meeting Nevin as an intern at Williamstown. Ever since then, one job led to another, a little more challenging, and I kept growing as an engineer.

Sidenote from Becca: ACT stands for Associated Craft Technicians and is colloquially known as the “touring local” of IATSE. Unlike the other numbered locals in IATSE, which are based in specific towns/cities (for example, IATSE Local 3 is Pittsburgh stage employees), ACT members are not all geographically based in one place, even though the local office is in New York.  Joining ACT or being offered an ACT card in order to accept work on a union touring show is how many folks in theatre gain membership to IATSE.

Thanks so much to Anna-Lee Craig for taking the time to share her story. Again, check back in January of 2022 for part 2 of this interview!

Also, I am taking requests for what topics you’d like to see blogs about next year. Reach out to me via my website, beccastollsound.com, and have a great end of 2021 y’all!

An Open Letter to Mental Health

Recently I have shifted my mental well-being to the forefront of my brain, whereas my work and education have always been my main focus. I knew that if I did not make this adjustment, my mental health would infringe on my professional life and the goals that I have set for myself.

The current discussion about mental well-being is a growing one, however, when it is combined with work, things fall short. There is an overwhelming amount of toxic work culture within our industry. With my switch to focusing on bettering myself and my mental state, I have questioned if this affects my worth as a designer. Does this make me a less valuable team member if I am not putting 110 percent into everything that I do?

I will answer this question for you – no it does not, and I know that it does not make me less valuable as a professional. Neither does it make me less capable. In fact, I think it makes me a better designer. There is an advantage to being self-aware and in tune with feelings and our experiences because those abilities lend themselves to sound design, music composition, and other creative and artistic endeavors.

Some days I feel as if I do not have any creative energy in me. Or that I no longer enjoy the things I once loved. A void has opened up and swallowed everything that makes me who I am. However, I have to remember that this does not equate to the real me. I may experience these feelings, but the creative and intelligent being I am still exists. My ability to do excellent work as a designer, engineer or teacher still exists.

Fear resides in me that if I cannot separate my working life from everything else, then I am on a one-way train to failure. My professional life must remain anxiety-free and the depression stifled. What we forget to remember is what that initial fear represents; a crack in the facade that we create. This kind of perfectionism is so fragile and dangerous for industry and work where things are changing and adapting every minute.

One of the best abilities I have trained myself in is how to be flexible. How to be adaptable and calm under pressure. It certainly was not easy, but I recognized it would be one of the most serving things I could do for myself. I work with directors, choreographers, artists, producers, and they all have an idea of what they want. Then, there is the actual production team which can vary in size and mind. They all have an idea of what they want. To think things won’t change and adapt is easily the most naive idea you could have. Some people may have an easy time being flexible under pressure, however, as someone with complex anxiety it is something I have had to work hard on.

If you are to remember anything from this article, please take away this statement. You are not your work. You are a valid and beautiful person no matter what work or the amount of work you do. You may feel like you have to do more, but ultimately you have an obligation to yourself and your health. That always takes priority.

I can recognize that this time that we spend on ourselves is what makes us worth so much. The idea that it makes us worthless is a misconception. There is also a lack of understanding of how long that process will take because it varies for each person. Our industry is not at all patient. It took Van Gogh a year to paint his famous Starry Night and that is an excellent example of what can happen when you are patient. You cannot get back the time you spent burning yourself out at your craft and I certainly don’t like thinking back on the person I was then. Hopefully, someday our industry will adopt a more patient outlook, but until then we have to be patient with and for ourselves.

As we come to a close in 2021, with everything going on and all of the uncertainties, I am thankful that I am working on this and that it can be one of the more stable things in my life. I think of it as my foundation and I know it will make me a better individual. We all have goals and dreams and taking care of our mental wellbeing can only help us achieve that for ourselves. I hope you all have a wonderful end of 2021 – you will see me in writing next year.

Special thanks to Quinn Schuster and Tyler Quinn for contributing to this writing.

 

Hybrid Recording: The Art of the Details 

Good art lies in the details. Oscar Wilde said of writing poetry: “I spent all morning taking out a comma and all afternoon putting it back in again,” and while facetious (like everything Wilde said), it rings true for all forms of creation. Once you get through the bulk, the initial drive for content, then it’s time for the details. A single comma can make all the difference. It can change the meaning, change the interpretation, change the flow, change the visual aesthetic of the poem. It is a decision as important as the change is small. It’s when you begin to dig in and to polish that art really takes off.

This is no different for music

You can get down your chords and melody, layer your instruments, get broad strokes mixing, and get it sounding pretty (damn) good with ease, but getting that last little push, that takes talent, and it takes time. How much time you have to make a record depends on your budget, and that graph is a smiley face. You start out home recording, no budget, just your time, and you can spend as long as you want creating and fine-tuning and to make the art that you want to make. Eventually, though, you may get the itch to do something more. Maybe you hate engineering or can’t wrap your head around mixing, maybe you want a producer to help you bring your musical vision to life. Maybe you just want to experience going into a studio. So you save and save and when you’re ready to realize that studios and engineers and producers are expensive. Thousands. At best you can do a couple of days. You’re now losing time. Now, instead of having forever, you have hardly any time, and the details get left behind. Of course, as your budget gets larger you can afford more time until you’re working with so much money that you’re back where you started, able to spend as long as it takes (unless you have a deadline) in order to get your art the way you want it.

Hoping for a million-dollar budget is probably out of the realm of possibility for you, as it is for most artists, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put the level of creation into your art that you want. Enter what I call hybrid recording (Not to be confused with recording with analog gear into a DAW like it used to refer to. These days, that’s just called “recording.”). You do your initial recording in a studio, getting your live tracking and as many parts as possible done (especially drums), and then go back to home recording for the rest of it. That’ll give you that studio sound, and that studio experience (since, you know, you’re recording in the studio), while also giving you the freedom and flexibility to not only create the art you want but also do so without feeling forced by time and by money into inspiration. That can yield amazing results, especially with a talented producer who can mitigate the anxiety of the clock (it is the producer and engineer’s job to keep track of time, btw, not the artists’), but sometimes what you really need is a late-night cup of coffee and a pair of headphones in the place you’re most comfortable.

Because of the pandemic, I’ve been doing a lot of distance/email producing, and I will say that it’s actually working out pretty well. My artist will record their song, with all the time they need to construct arrangements and get the right takes, and then email me a mix. I’ll listen through, make notes that I send back, and we’ll do it again for the next version until we’re both happy with the arrangement and the performances and feel the song is ready for mixing. It takes a lot less time on my part than actually going into the studio to do overdubs, and it gives the artist that flexibility and freedom. Yes, it does mean that I can’t be there to coach performances and to stoke inspiration in the moment, which are all really important roles for a producer (probably the most important), but that doesn’t mean we can’t get amazing results, because we do. It just takes a little while longer, a little more back and forth, and a little more guesswork (depending on the rough mixes).

So how does a recording session like this work?

For a 10-12 song LP, you’re going to be looking at 3 days in the studio. The first day will involve a lot of setup (low end 4-6 hours, possibly more), and at least the first two days will be over ten hours. If your engineer or studio won’t work that long, then you’ll have to add on another day. Be upfront with your budget, and try and have some padding in case things go over. Your producer/engineer should be able to adjust things to work with your needs. Maybe you skip using all that fancy outboard gear that takes a bunch of time to set up, so you can get an extra song or two done on day one. Still, you shouldn’t push or rush your way through everything in less than two days. I’ve done 6-7 song days before and they suck, and the results sound like it. In order to prepare to go in, though, you’ve got to practice. I tell my artists to practice two hours a day for two weeks leading up to their recording session. And why wouldn’t you? You’re spending a lot of money and you want to make the most out of it, ample practice not only gets you the best results but saves you money.

Editing is a vital part of making music, and good editing can often be the difference between sounding indie and sounding pro. Even with the practicing, you’re not going to go in and be a one-and-done kind of thing. You need to do multiple takes, no only because you need material in case you notice things you want to change later on, but because if the first take is great, the second take can always be greater. And there are always parts of each take that are better than the same parts in others. Even that killer magic take. Basic take comping will take up a good chunk of your recording time, and you don’t want to also have to spend that time having the individual parts edited. That sucks. It sucks for the band because it costs money, and it sucks for the engineer because editing is boring. I try to put off editing until after the recording session to save on studio fees. In a perfect world, I’d spend about 1-1.5 hours editing a song. In reality, I’ve spent 4-6 before, because the bands don’t listen to my practicing requirements. If I have to spend four hours per song on editing, for our 12 song LP that’s over a full week of work. Vs less than two days. How much money do you think you’ll save by practicing.

Once we get our studio tracking done, and our editing, it’s time for the actual fun and the whole point of this article. I’ll send you rough mix stems, so you can adjust your drum and bass and guitar and whatever levels, and then you’ll do what you do best: make magic. We do our back and forth, and once everyone is satisfied, we move on to mixing.

Mixing is a vital part of making music. It’s when we make all the different tracks we recorded sound good together, take care of that EQ and compression we skipped to save on studio fees, and handle the final creative touches to really make something special. Mixing can take a lot of time, certainly, the first song does, and might end up costing as much or more than your tracking session. You can get mix engineers for cheap, you can get those who are expensive. You can even get

Finally, we get to mastering. Mastering is the final polish that gets the songs ready for release. This is typically done by a different engineer to get a different pair of ears on the production. And after that, we’re done!

What I’ve outlined here is not making records on the cheap. There are oodles of ways to get your budgets down to next to nothing. Make friends with someone who has a home studio, invest a few hundred bucks into your own equipment, find someone fresh out of engineering school looking to build a discography. But if you want the next step, something more, working with an established pro in a proper professional studio, then this is a way to go about it that can give you that sound and experience, and make something that would otherwise be unaffordable just about within the realm of possibility.

But seriously, practice.

Lillian Blair is a producer, engineer, and audio educator working out of the Seattle area. She is currently a staff engineer at The Vera Project Studios, where she chairs the Audio Committee, teaches studio recording and audio mixing and mastering. She is also co-founder of the new Audio Engineering Certificate Program at North Seattle College.

 

 

 

7 Steps to Making a Demo with Your Phone

 

The internet is full of songwriters asking the question; how good does my demo have to be? The answer is always, “it depends”. Demos generally have one purpose; to accurately display the lyrics and melody of a song. Yet, there are varying types of demos and demo requirements but for this blog’s purpose, that is our one purpose!

*(see the end of this blog for situations where you will want to have your song fully produced for pitching purposes)

If you are a

Songwriter who wants to create a demo for the creative team of an artist

Artist who wants to create a demo for a producer

Songwriter who wants feedback on a song

Demos for these purposes can be recorded on your phone. If you have recording software (otherwise known as a DAW: Digital Audio Workstation) you can use that too. The steps are the same. But for those who don’t have a recording set up and have no interest in diving into that world, your phone and a variety of phone apps make it super easy.

Figure out the tempo

The “beats per minute”, or BPM is a critical component to the momentum and energy of a song. Pretty much every novice singer/songwriter has a tendency to write their songs in various tempos. The verse starts off at a certain groove and then by the time the first chorus comes in, the tempo has gradually increased to a new bpm. Then it goes back down during the soft bridge, then back up to an even faster tempo at the end.

None of us were born with an internal metronome, so don’t beat yourself up about it. However, most mainstream music that we hear today is going to be in a set tempo for the majority of the song. There may be tempo changes, depending on what the song calls for but, generally speaking, most songs do not change tempo. You and your producer can decide if a song needs tempo changes or if it is the kind of song that should be played “freely”, with no metronome at all.

Start by playing your song, and imagine yourself walking to the beat of your song. Is it a brisk walk? Or a slow, sluggish walk? A brisk walk is 120 beats per minute. Pull up your metronome and pick a starting bpm, based on how brisk (or un-brisk) the imaginary walk feels. Set that tempo and then play along to it. If it’s feeling good, keep playing through until you’ve played every song section (verse, chorus, bridge) at that tempo. If it stopped feeling right at some point, adjust accordingly. Ideally, you’ll find that happy bpm that is perfect for the song.

Type up a lyric sheet: I have artists put these lyric sheets on Google Drive and share them with me so that we are always working off of the same lyric sheet as changes are made.

Mark tempo changes on the lyric sheet: mark specific tempo changes if there are any. Mark a ritard (ritard means to slow down) where they need to be as well. If there is going to be a ritard, it is usually in the outro.

Check the key: Do you accidentally change keys in different sections? Just like the case of tempo changes, beginner singer/songwriters, especially if they’ve written the lyrics and melody a cappella (without accompaniment) can easily change keys without knowing it. If you don’t play an instrument, that’s ok! Have a musician friend or teacher help you. Your producer can also help you with this, as long as that is included in the scope of their work. Ask beforehand. If you do know the key and have determined the chords, include those in your lyric sheet.

Can you sing it: Have you sung it full out with a voice teacher in the key you’ve written it in? Singing it quietly in your room in a way that won’t disturb your roommates might not be the way you want to sing it in the recording studio.

Record the song: Record the song with the metronome clicking out loud if you aren’t using an app (you may need two devices; one to play the metronome and one to record) There are apps available where you can record yourself while listening to the click track through earbuds, then when you listen back to the recording, you won’t hear the click track. The point is that you sang it in time. One app I’m aware of where you can do this is Cakewalk by Bandlab. There are many!

Share the file: Make sure you can share the audio recording in a file format they can play. MP3s are the most common compressed audio file that can easily be emailed but most of our phones don’t automatically turn our voice memos into mp3’s. As a matter of fact, some phones will squash an audio file into some weird file type that sounds like crap (I have a Samsung and it does this!)

The most important steps for creating a demo for the above-mentioned purposes are making sure you have fine-tuned lyrics, melody, and song structure in a (mostly) set tempo. Following all of these steps will make you a dream client for your producer!

*If you want to pitch a song for use in film or TV (licensing/sync) then it needs to be a fully produced song. Do NOT submit demos to music libraries or music supervisors. They need finished products.

If you want to pitch your song to a music publisher, who in turn will pitch your song to artists, they will want full production in most cases. The artist may have it entirely reproduced but you have to “sell” them the song. You want to shine it in the best light possible. A demo would be needed for the creative team (producer, studio musicians, etc.) who will create your produced version for pitching. 

Health and Holidays

I don’t exactly know when I realized it, The moment I knew music was what I wanted to pursue for the rest of my life. When was it? I know that I’ve always had a different ear from most people in my social circle.

In grade school, the second to be exact, I was ecstatic about being able to hit this large snare. I wanted to know why that noise it made was different from the tapping of my foot or banging my desk. Sure drumming was fun, but after it was over I would spend some of my free time during the snack break to sit with the snare. I would tap it, then hit it, and then I’d do it in a repeating motion. Maybe that was the moment I got hungry to ask questions. In the third grade, I started to pluck the high E string on my dad’s guitar, writing music that didn’t involve me holding down any strings that would cut through my tiny hands.

I kept asking, and some teachers found it annoying. I constantly, regardless if it was or wasn’t music-oriented, raised my hand and asked. It became so much that the teachers over the years all repeated the same phrase “Anyone other than Kimmy?” as if to discourage me to stop being so inquisitive.

As I got older the rift between me and my peers widened. I would spend most of my time home with my diamond dove Olivia and my guitar. I felt as though I was on another planet those days with my bird and instrument, untouchable even. I would later get Garageband on my iPhone, and as if I was in the second grade all over again I would spend my time on Garageband fooling around with loops I thought sounded cool all while trying to mentally dissect what was happening.

This passion for knowledge and melody also was an outlet. When my dad was in the hospital, or when my grandmother passed – I was consumed by my music. The grief and anguish were all obsolete in my cocoon. Nothing was in or out of that hole I was deep inside of, It felt safe and warm from everything outside of it. Maybe it was in these moments I knew I could never have a life outside of this rhythmic cocoon I’d created.

It is important that I became so developed in one expertise, but I didn’t develop the skills necessary to talk casually with others. I was career-minded and focused so much on earning my keep in an industry that was never made to accommodate me – that I didn’t take a single moment to step back and breathe a little. I think that’s the parting message I want to share before we close out the year.

At the start of 2021, I wrote about New York City, my home. And how in a city known for never sleeping it did, in fact, sleep. It was starting to come back to life little by little. Now that Broadway is starting back up and live entertainment ( though limited ) is coming through town, this city is back to being the city without any winks.

So what does the city coming back have to do with the backstory? Well, I wanted to give you some context, and honestly, when I request this of you. I want you to take care of yourself.

Take some time to give yourself warm words and self-recognition. What did you accomplish? It doesn’t need to be going on that dream vacation or scoring a promotion, it can be but it doesn’t have to be! Maybe you took a bike ride and found a new route that was better than the older one, or maybe you found a new favorite food. Whatever it was, congratulations. As we get back to our pre-pandemic lives and things go back to the same-old-same-old I don’t want people who might have been or are like me to fall behind.

It is so easy to get consumed with the day-to-day; to lose yourself to routine. This holiday season give back to yourself and treat yourself right. I was a person that was at one point that only ever made room for one thing – it was when I opened myself up to others that I really did grow as a musician.

Sure, I had plenty of fake friends along the way, but I also met some real gems. These people are still in my life and I am forever grateful for them. So consider talking or reconnecting with old friends or acquaintances. Maybe meet some new friends at a karaoke bar? You never know what might happen.

Just remember to take care of yourself, you are important and valued and no one can say different.

Next year I am looking forward to being back with the laundry list of things to talk about. Maybe some gear talk, and more resources as I come across them. Whatever comes next year we will grow as people together.

Thank you to SoundGirls for the amazing year despite the ups and downs, I’ll see you all next year!

( side note: If you are feeling anxious or depressed I’d encourage you to call or text these numbers. If you are feeling suicidal please reach out to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline! They are available 24/7 free and confidential! )

Resources for Mental Health

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741

Friends for Survival: 916-392-0664 OR 800 646-7322

The Trevor Project ( LGBTQIA ): Text START to 678-678 OR Call 1-866-488-7386

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