A place for everything, and everything in its place

My parents were both raised in fairly strict homes — the kind where there are clearly understood rules, and accepted ways that things are or are not done. Including elevated standards for cleanliness and neatness.

And because of this, both of them grew up with the old Ben Franklin saying being quoted at them by way of explanation / justification: “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” And so of course I grew up with this saying too.

And, honestly? It resonated with me, because I’m pretty Type A. I need my spaces to be neat, and disorder and mess make me anxious. I’ve been this way basically since I was born. This is in contrast to my sister, who is precisely the opposite, and has been since she was old enough to move physical items purposefully. Genes are wild.

But to the topic at hand: I’ve realized that I think about this saying now in terms of music production. I believe that, in any given piece of music, every element has a place where it should live. And, further, I believe that, until each element is in its correct place, the song isn’t doing what it could ideally be doing.

This isn’t to say that I have one single way that I like things to sound — or even indeed that I have a single general set of sonic relationships that I gravitate towards. Sometimes an instrument’s ideal placement is unorthodox! I definitely have some songs that I’ve finished recently where the kick drum or hi-hat or vocal is way out front. Like, unusually far out front. And I notice it! But if I try to lower it to a more “normal” placement, the song falls apart.

So this isn’t about dogmatism; it’s quite the opposite. It’s about the idea that every element in a production has a place where it wants to live — and that it’s our job to figure out and then honor what that place is, including if that place is not what we might have guessed.

No wrong answers in music — jamie