New York Reflections: On Branding, Balance, and What Really Matters
I’ve nearly wrapped up three weeks in New York—over a dozen meetings with great friends, past clients, new clients, and engineers who are all figuring out their next moves. There’s something about being in a different city, away from your usual routines, that makes conversations go deeper. Maybe it’s because you’re both committed to being there, or maybe it’s just the energy of the city itself. Either way, I came back with a head full of thoughts that I need to get down on paper.
The Hard Work of Finding Yourself
The biggest thing that hit me during these conversations was how fucking difficult it is to uncover who you really are—and then build a brand around that truth. I watched engineers struggle with this over and over. They’d tell me they’re “passionate about music” or “I’m a photographer on the side,” and I’d push them: Yeah, but what makes YOUR music thing different? What’s the magic in your specific approach?
The thing is, we always want to reach for the grander, more “interesting” things when the real magic is usually sitting right there in what feels basic to us. Like, the engineer who casually mentioned they obsess over getting the kick drum to sit perfectly in every genre—that’s not basic, that’s your thing. But because it feels natural to you, you dismiss it.
Getting to simplicity is actually the hardest work, and you usually can’t do it alone. Definitely not at the rate you could with someone else digging in with you. It’s about finding what makes your thinking unique and useful, not what sounds impressive at a party.
Here’s my test: your entire brand should be something you’re proud to wear on a t-shirt, have on your computer screen when someone walks behind you, or turn into a piece of hardware displayed in your studio. If you can’t imagine that, you’re not there yet.
AI and the Art of Better Questions
Speaking of unique thinking—AI came up in almost every conversation. And look, AI is an incredible rendering tool if you have the ability to think, understand your domain, and have self-awareness about what makes your perspective valuable. But that’s a big if.
I’ve been learning to interact with what’s essentially another being. Not human, but a being that understands a slightly different part of language than we do. The engineers who are winning with AI aren’t the ones trying to replace their thinking—they’re the ones using it to think better, faster, and with more clarity.
There will be waves of AI adoption. Not one big moment, but many moments, each affecting people differently. I do believe there will be significant changes in how we work—maybe even the 50% workforce shifts people predict. We’ll be expected to do more with less. The quality bar will rise, and the slop bar will deepen.
The question isn’t whether AI will change things. It’s whether you’re continuing to improve yourself and your thinking so you can ride the waves instead of getting crushed by them.
The Nuance Game
Here’s what I noticed about the engineers who are really building something sustainable: they don’t ignore the nuance of their business in favor of just the output.
You can have a great brand, but if your product, service, and process are shit, I’m not coming back. Period. But here’s the flip side—so many people obsess over having the perfect mix or the perfect master while completely ignoring the experience of working with them.
A business encompasses so many elements, and people love a compelling story that weaves together those elements, the output, and the person behind it all. The engineer who responds to emails promptly, has a clear revision process, and makes their clients feel heard? That’s part of the brand too.
Saying No Without Saying No
One thing that came up a lot was boundaries. How do you say no to clients without sounding like a dick?
The reality is, saying no doesn’t need to sound like the word “no.” It can sound like them saying yes to guidelines you set in advance. “Here’s how my revision process works.” “This is my typical turnaround time.” “Here’s what’s included in my mix package.”
Sometimes they might be upset when they don’t get what they want. But if you keep finding yourself saying no to the same things over and over, that’s probably a process problem presenting as a boundary issue later down the chain.
Constraints Create Focus
I watched engineers stress about having “too many options” or feeling “out of control” in their careers. My advice? Set constraints on the things that feel chaotic and watch them regain focus.
Think big and limit big. If you think big for too long, you won’t get anything done. If you get too detailed for too long, you’ll have a perfectly crafted segment of a shitty sculpture.
One engineer told me he was overwhelmed by all the genres he could work in. So we picked three for the next six months. Suddenly, he had clarity on what to post about, which producers to reach out to, and how to describe himself. Constraints became creative fuel.
Play Like You Mean It
Here’s something that surprised me: the engineers who seemed most fulfilled were the ones who still made time for real play. Not networking events or “strategic” hangouts—actual play. Making up inside jokes, creating ridiculous skits, jamming without any goal.
If you haven’t played with your friends like you did as kids, you’re missing out on the richness of those relationships. And honestly, you’re probably missing out on the kind of thinking that leads to breakthrough creative work.
Remember Why You Fell in Love
I asked several engineers about the last concert experience where they cried, smiled endlessly, or sang every word. The ones who could answer immediately seemed more connected to their work. The ones who had to think about it… well, that tells you something too.
If you’re making music, you need to remember the feeling of why you do it. Not just the technical nature of records, but the magic that made you want to be part of this world in the first place.
Do you have a sense of why you’re doing what you do? Is there a reason bigger than helping yourself this week or month? If not, dream up a few more reasons and strive for those. I think you’ll be more satisfied and clearer in your pursuit.
The Tightrope Act
Here’s something I’ve been thinking about: you can get so good at your thing that it stops being good to other people. You lose the edge of being on the edge, trying to discover what makes your thing a thing.
We like a tightrope performance, but we also want the performer to get off the rope safely. There’s always tension. We call it balance, and it is. The engineers who stay relevant are the ones who never fully step off that tightrope—they stay just uncomfortable enough to keep discovering.
The Basics Still Matter
For all the philosophical stuff, let’s not forget: there are basics like how much money you need, how much time you have, and how much work you can do. These should be defined early and often, navigated and packaged if you want to run any type of business.
Don’t leave these simple things in the fog because you think they’re beneath the “creative” work. They’re not separate from the creative work—they enable it.
On Art and Simplicity
Great art can’t always be appreciated in the moment. Sometimes you have to leave the museum and clear your head. But even the most seemingly basic art has layers of complexity woven into it that make it strong while appearing simple.
This applies to mixing too. The engineers whose work feels effortless? They’ve usually done the hard work of understanding what to leave out, not just what to add.
Choose Your Circle Wisely
Spend as much time as you can with people who put you at ease. Where conversation flows naturally. Where respect and love are shared, and everyone is pushing each other toward their absolute best.
Don’t give into the pressure of performing in public, but don’t be a bore either. Another thing to balance. The relationships that matter are the ones where you can drop the act and just be present.
What Really Matters
Sitting outside of a cafe drinking coffee and reflecting, I kept thinking about a conversation with one of my friends. I asked his daughter what her three favorite things about her dad were, and she told me about three different moments they spend together. Not things he bought her or achievements he’d unlocked—just moments of connection.
That hit me hard, especially thinking about all the engineers I work with who are grinding so hard to “make it” that they’re missing the people right in front of them. The late nights in the studio, the weekends spent on revisions, the family dinners cut short for client calls.
I’m not saying don’t chase your dreams. Chase them hard. But remember that your kids won’t remember the Grammy you didn’t win or the client you didn’t land. They’ll remember whether you were present for the moments that mattered to them.
There is always a way. But make sure the way you choose leaves room for what really fills you up.
What resonated with you from these reflections? I’d love to hear about your own moments of clarity—the conversations or experiences that shifted how you think about your work and life. Hit reply and let me know what’s on your mind.
