As a follow-up to my recent article on mixing stereo for broadcast, I wanted to talk about something that quietly eats away at a lot of engineers: the destructive habit of comparison.
If you’ve mixed broadcast audio for any length of time, I’m sure you’ve done this: on a Sunday afternoon, you go to YouTube and play back your day’s work. Then you start browsing other churches, some about your size, some smaller, some way bigger.
If you dig deep enough, you’ll find some stream mixes that make you feel pretty good about how your day went. But let’s be honest, it’s just as easy to find some that make you want to email your pastor, apologizing for your obvious lack of talent and promising never to touch another console. Back to the hardware store for me. I’m done.
This is the blessing, and yes the curse, of mixing for broadcast. It’s something FOH engineers don’t have to deal with. You’re the last to touch it before it leaves the building. Your broadcast mix lives on. It gets replayed as long as the video stays online. Meanwhile, FOH mixes disappear into the air within milliseconds. Every minor imperfection in your broadcast mix feels amplified each time you play it. It stands out even more when compared to NorthSaddleHillPassionVate’s stream.
But hang on. Let me give you some encouragement.
I’ve done this, and many of my veteran broadcast engineer friends have, too. Constantly comparing yourself will drain your energy and creativity. It will plant seeds of self-doubt that grow like weeds into every mix decision you make. I’ve had some rough days in the studio, and I’ve had days where I thought I nailed it.
Not long ago, I overheard two church engineers discussing a popular church’s online mix. One of them said, “I think I’ve got the low end about right, and the drums pretty close, but I can’t get the guitars or vocals to sound like theirs yet. I’m going to keep working until I get it.”
While I admire the effort (and apparently his abundant free time), I couldn’t help but think: why are you trying to replicate a completely different church? Different equipment. Different talent. Different room. Different mix philosophy. Different everything.
Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of using reference tracks. I absolutely believe in studying content you’re familiar with and respect. Reference tracks help you understand how your system responds. They can guide you. But chasing someone else’s mix, trying to duplicate it, is a fool’s errand. And it’ll drive you crazy.
I’m not saying to ignore what’s happening in the broader church audio world. I follow a handful of churches and engineers. They follow me too. Our mixes are all very different, but they’re all excellent in their own right. And I do pick up ideas and techniques from them. Some of it sticks, some of it doesn’t. And occasionally someone in my peer group will ask something like, “Hey, how did you get that vocal to sound like that?”
Oddly enough, the last time someone asked me that, I was in a season where I was feeling uncertain about how my own vocals were sitting in the mix.
Why are they all so different?
That reminded me: not only do we all have different tools, spaces, and limitations, we also have different ears. While we each hear things a little differently, one thing we all share is that our ears tend to self-adjust to whatever we’re listening to.
I have a dedicated listening room in my home, not a man cave, not a home theater. No screens. No distractions. Just music. One of my favorite things to do is spin a full album, front to back, no skips. That’s how we used to listen, before streaming turned us all into short-attention-span, free-music consumers.
When I listen that way, even recordings that aren’t considered “audiophile” still sound fantastic. Because in context, they work. My ears settle in, and the music, and the art of the mix, does what it’s meant to do: move me.
But when I hop between songs from different artists, albums, or genres, I notice big shifts in how things hit. And I’m not talking about old versus new. Even modern recordings vary wildly in tone, balance, width, and vibe. Loudness wars notwithstanding, the song that’s mastered hotter often tricks you into thinking it “sounds better,” even when it’s a less musical mix.
It works the same way with church stream mixes.
If you listen back to the opening song from your Sunday stream and then jump straight into another church’s stream, your ears haven’t had a chance to settle. Every little flaw feels louder. And no matter what stream you compare it to, it’s going to sound different. Better? Worse? Maybe. Or just different. Your mix might not hit as hard, and you might start second-guessing everything. But if your whole service is mixed with clarity, purpose, and consistency in accordance with your church’s values, and theirs is too, then both did exactly what they were supposed to do, within the context of how they were meant to be consumed. Two churches, doing things differently, each communicating with its own unique voice. Nothing wrong with that!
Let’s not forget who our audience is. The only people skipping around from stream to stream comparing mix quality are, well… us.
If we’re being honest, sometimes we’re doing it to learn, and sometimes we’re doing it to beat ourselves up. And if we’re being transparently honest, sometimes we’re hoping to hear something worse than our mix, just so we can feel better about ourselves. The trap of comparison works in both directions.
My advice.
Don’t stress over the tools you have, or the ones you don’t. Most of your career as a mixer, the equipment you use will be chosen by someone else. Make the most of it.
Remember, there’s no single piece of hardware (or plugin) that will magically and finally fix your mix.
Regardless of budget, gear you’re grateful for almost always sounds better than gear you resent.
Use reference tracks as guidelines or inspiration, but not as something to replicate.
Listen to other streams. By all means, study them and take notes. But don’t obsess over them.
Focus on the big picture. Nobody cares how great your snare sounds if they can’t hear the vocals.
Develop a peer group you trust for honest, constructive feedback. Better yet, find a mentor who understands where you are and wants to help.
Stop comparing your work to others. If you’re letting someone else’s excellence discourage you, or someone else’s mediocrity inflate your ego, you’re heading into a dark place.
Proverbs 14:30: “A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.”
Be yourself. You are “fearfully and wonderfully made,” a unique individual with your own gifts and developing skills. Take everything you’ve learned up to this point and use it to serve this moment. Trust your gut. Next Sunday, you’ll bring another week of experience (and yes, every one counts) to your church’s one-of-a-kind online presence.
If you find yourself going down the YouTube rabbit hole on Sunday afternoon, STOP. Take a nap.
A note for non-technical leaders.
A good friend of mine spent years mixing at a very large church. By nearly any standard, he was an A-list engineer.
But then a new worship pastor was hired, and became his boss. That pastor quickly started nitpicking. Constant suggestions. Frequent comparison. Emails with links to other church mixes. Never satisfied.
My friend tried. For months he adjusted, experimented, and second-guessed himself. Eventually, he lost confidence in his own ears. He was no longer mixing with vision, he was mixing to try and meet someone else’s constantly shifting expectations.
Eventually, he stepped away. Another church hired him quickly. With trust restored, his creativity returned, and so did the great mixes.
Leaders, this is a cautionary tale. Constantly comparing your team’s work to other churches may seem harmless, but over time, it can be one of the most demoralizing things you do.
Yes, there should be a process for feedback. But if you constantly micromanage and compare your engineer’s work to others, you’re likely to beat the confidence and creativity out of them.
Instead, establish a clear mix philosophy (see my article on that here). Cast vision. Then let ’em cook. And I promise: with your confidence behind them, they won’t forget to listen.
