Why Demos Feel Magical (and Mixes Feel Stressful)

Why do we forgive our demos but not our mixes?

Demos are extremely charming. I think it’s because we expect nothing from them.

We forgive our rough demos. They’re imperfect, and they resonate potential. We don’t put pressure on them. We have hopes and dreams for their future.

Often a new demos feel like a gift. They arrive like a newborn baby delivered by a stork.

The mysterious feeling we connect with music, already seems present in demos. It’s a mystique we can’t fully grasp.

Demos are precious. But rarely created with a precious attitude.

One day the demo has to grow up and become a sound recording. The little guy who had an excellent go at “Three Blind Mice” now has an audition.

The expectations rise. Our proud smiles become stern eyebrows. Our arms fold. We’re ready to criticise and scold our mix.

Why do we stop being kind to our demo?

To me, the mix personified is this hot-shot executive. He shows up, cracks his knuckles ready to impress. We dislike the way he tries to clean up our beautiful mess.

It can feel like we’re sending our demo to reform school. How might he change with rules and discipline? What might be lost?

We are protective, we cherish its nature and have hope for what it could become. Our love for the demo can hinder its growth-its transition. Like helicopter parents, we can’t let it go.

During the trials and tribulations of mixing, editing, experimenting. We see our demos go through monstrous incarnations before its right. It can be unbearable for us perfectionists to witness.

The mix is one stop on the long train ride home from production. It’s not the final step. This helps us remember it’s unfinished.

It keeps us in a similar mindset to when we started. It feels closer to home. One day our demo will return, ready to step out into the world.

Can we view mixes fondly through imperfections and even over-perfections?

After all our poor mix is only giving us its best shot. The same way the demo did. Our baby has become a teen, and he has bigger shoes to fill.

We can scramble a hundred times before we make the perfect omelette. Luckily with music, our egg is infinitely crackable. The execution is limitless.

As scary as the abundance can be, all it takes is remembering why we made it. Staying close to the feeling that made the demo, aligns us with what it needs.

When mixing, over analysis, judgement, pressure, and superficial thoughts can warp our impression of it.

But what if we forgive our mix when it kind of sucks?

Will it help us give the mix the freedom it needs to prosper? Can we give grace to our growing demo?

The process of execution can make us hate our beautiful song. But our original idea deserves love at every stage of the production. From demo to mix to master.

Written by Michael Bradshaw (Studio Chaddy)