Recording music in a studio is a lot like coming in person for therapy: Both are helpful for growth
I recently toured Windmill Lane Recording Studios, which made me reflect on just how similarly necessary the roles of in-studio recording engineers and producers are to in-person therapists. Both recording and therapy are, at best, partnered practices—the quality of the work is dependent on the strength and trust of the relationship. The relationship developed with recording technicians, studio engineers, or producers pushes musicians to grow and produce their best sound. This has a parallel to work as a therapist, which draws on the connection between a therapist and patient to create a more meaningful life.
This is especially important now. In 2023, there are more avenues to both record music and seek therapy than ever before. Musicians can record themselves almost anywhere and at any time—on the street, in the studio, and even, at home. Similarly, remote therapy has made therapy outside of an office not only possible but increasingly popular. In both cases, this is a net positive. More accessibility to therapy (and recording, for that matter) is a good thing. Yet, there is still a special magic that happens when a patient, like a musician, commits themselves to a process in which everyone in a room is listening, unpacking, collaborating, and creating to build something new.
Drawing out this parallel in a two-part series, here are three ways the best therapists are like the best recording engineers:
1. They act as fresh eyes and ears to provide key outside perspectives
In an interview with NPR, Neko Case and John Grant spoke about the benefit of another set of ears while recording. Producers and engineers let musicians know what sounds good, what needs to change, what they need to re-listen to, what needs reworking, and what isn’t working. So too with therapy.
When individuals come into therapy, it’s as if they’ve listened to the same song over and over. They have stories about their experiences that they often have a set way of relating to—narratives that have become a part of them, their identity, and how they understand and make sense of the world. A therapist provides a key outside perspective on these stories. They ask questions about what a person is saying, how they are feeling, and what they’ve experienced in order to discover what might need to change. It’s helpful to have another person who can listen, take in, ask questions, reflect on what has been said, and eventually, collaborate to find ways to make meaning of suffering, pain, and experiences of being in the world.
2. They make you work harder
Good recording engineers and producers drive musicians to work harder and dig deeper. The best know how to get musicians to keep going when they want to give up and feel like they can’t listen or play the song one more time. They also push musicians to get somewhere they may not have anticipated before the recording process. What makes a productive engineer is someone who listens to a sound, challenges musicians to own it, talks through frustration, and refuses to give in or give up on the tough work of communicating that sound. Even if a musician needs to play that sound fourteen times, they’re eventually going to create the sound they had hoped for.
A great therapist does the same thing—they provide a solid, patient presence to do the hard work of therapy so that patients can develop in ways they didn’t even think was possible. Like in recording, sometimes in therapy, we have to return over and over (and over) to a familiar part of an individual’s life or relationships to fully unpack this experience, look deeper, and feel the associated feelings more fully, no matter how difficult. This isn’t easy, but a therapist can sit with the feelings that might seem scary, tough, insurmountable, or just plain bad. As the relationship grows, a therapist can begin to ask more from a patient, slowly interjecting some noticing, wondering, and other pieces to help a patient consider doing things a little differently.
3. They refuse to collude with what isn’t working
A great recording engineer stops a band when they are off-beat, when a note or chord is off, or when a harmony falls flat. They simply name the issue in a kind, knowing way that verbalizes likely what the musician is already aware of. Rather than protecting musicians’ egos, they are naming what is not working in the service of the music and the goal of creating the best recording possible. Colluding for the sake of protection would defeat the whole purpose.
The best therapists also operate with a similar ethic, refusing to collude with things an individual may not want to see or notice by politely not addressing them or agreeing with them instead of exploring. A therapist has to be aware of what is not helping someone, whether a defense or a symptom that was created for the purpose of protection but is no longer healthy or serving them. In response, a therapist names what is holding an individual back from living a more fully felt and meaningful life. While this is a more delicate process than pointing out a wrong note, therapists still must notice it, name it, be curious about it, and be open to doing that a few times before the patient can observe what is not working for themselves and be able to shift it.