I’ve done a few things in my life professionally -- most recently, newspapers and teaching.
But I’ve done other things.
I’ve been a bartender. I’ve been a carpenter. I’ve been a waiter.
And I’ve been a musician.
There was a time in my early 20s that I thought I would be able to make a living playing music.
The birth of children have a way of changing things, and that’s exactly what happened.
But at one time, I stayed busy playing drums and traveling bands.
It’s a hobby I have periodically gone back to over the past 15 years.
And though I was never able to make a living playing music, I always enjoyed it.
It was my first creative outlet and something I will always have a hand in.
Though I have not played a drum gig for money since the pandemic, I do keep a foot in the music business.
As such, I’m in charge of entertainment booking for the Collinsville Pioneer Day each September (stay tuned for big announcements about this year’s event and subsequent issues of the
News-Record).
Nonetheless, I still own several drum sets and a full PA system.
I have little time these days to play much music, but I like to have the equipment on hand in case the right situation comes up.
One such situation came up a few weeks ago, though it did not include a drum set.
A friend, who fronts a very well-known band on the Texas scene, called and said he had a private show outside of Collinsville.
He asked if I knew anyone that could provide a good sound mix.
The more I heard, the more I realized I was that guy.
So, I became the sound guy for his event.
A good sound man is important. He oversees all the equipment on stage as well as the mix out front.
A good sound guy can make or break a performance.
I have known some good sound men in my life, and I have done plenty of it myself.
There’s always a little bit of anxiety that goes into any live sound work.
I want to make sure the talent is happy and I want to make sure the audience is entertained.
The front-of-house sound mix is what the audience hears.
How good a band sounds out front is important, but equally as important is how they sound to themselves on stage.
This is what we call “on-stage sound.” It is often produced by monitor speakers that face the musicians.
The audience hears the mains. The talent hears the monitors.
Many the monitor mix has been scrutinized over the years by unhappy musicians. If they don’t sound good to themselves, they don’t feel they can sound good to the audience.
I’ve lost sleep in advance of shows worrying about a good monitor mix. But I’ve learned over the years that— the better the players— the easier my job is as the sound guy.
Years ago, I ran sound for an acclaimed trio with national attention. They were personal idols of mine and I was flattered to be asked to work for them.
I fretted ahead of time— could I make it work? Did I have the technology they needed?
The concerns abounded.
On the day of the show, I was amazed at how smoothly it all went.
They requested a mix of two microphones, one monitor mix and they handled the rest of the sound through their amplifiers.
For those of you foreign to the business— this request was minimal. Bare bones, really. And, yet, they sound like a million bucks.
I could have taken credit, but I didn’t.
These guys were pros. They knew exactly how to control their on-stage sound. They knew the variables and how to control what they could control.
The greats do.
Legendary jazz trumpeter Wynton Marsallis famously staged his quintet without any onstage monitors.
“It’s amazing how good a band can sound if they, first, know how to listen,” he once said. “We concentrate on listening to each other.”
There is a lesson here— and metaphor.
Imagine the beautiful music we could make if we listened a little more.
What if we did better to control the things we can control— our on-stage sound?
We are all artists. The lives we lead are our canvas, our ballads and our poetry on the page.
A life well lived resembles a great piece of music played by a great band.
It is not something stumbled upon, but something composed with intention, patience and revision.
It may begin as a simple melody, uncertain and searching, then grows richer through harmony, rhythm and the layering of experience.
There are missed notes, stretches of silence and moments that swell with unexpected beauty.
But it is the commitment to keep composing. Keep writing. Keep playing, listening, adjusting and trusting the progression.
And above all, know your part and control your on-stage sound.
That mindset can transform a life into something resonant, dynamic and enduring.
Austin Lewter is the owner and publisher of the Whitesboro News-Record and director of the Texas Center for Community Journalism. He can be reached at [email protected]