When a Mix “Doesn’t Feel Right”: Listening to the Intention Behind Notes

Generally speaking, when I am mixing, the point at which I feel I can stop is when there is no longer anything that bothers me. By that I mean I can listen through feeling emotionally connected to and fully engaged with the music, without anything pulling me out of that experience. I want to forget about the mix and simply enjoy the music.

But this isn’t the final measure.

A mix isn’t finished just because I’m satisfied with it. If the client isn’t feeling what they hoped to feel, then it isn’t finished.

When a client reviews a mix, requests such as “can the violins have more presence?”, “can you bring the trumpets down a touch?”, or “can the overall mix have a little less reverb?” are straightforward. These are tangible, practical adjustments.

But occasionally the feedback is different:

“I’m not sure… it’s just not how I imagined it would be. It’s all there, but it doesn’t feel right.”

There’s no obvious fader to move or parameter to change in response to that.

Ideally, through discussion, you might arrive at a reference or some shared language that hints at a new direction. But sometimes there just isn’t clarity, only the sense that something isn’t landing emotionally.

In those moments I try to step back completely from the minutiae. Instead of asking what needs to change, I ask what I may have misunderstood.

In the case of a film score, I’ll think about the broader world of the project. What kind of storytelling is this? How does the music sit within that world? Is the mix reinforcing the emotional character of the piece, or subtly nudging it elsewhere? Is there something about the balance, density, or space that might be misaligned with the bigger picture? Does the mix fully align with the composer’s musical voice?

Often the eventual solution appears simple: a shift in the balance between rhythmic elements, a slightly more contained dynamic range, a more coloured reverb, or a different sense of depth. But those changes are only meaningful if they bring the emotional intent into clearer focus.

Once I have an idea of what might be misaligned, the practical work begins.

Whether in person or remotely, I’ll often present two distinct options fairly quickly. Different reverb approaches, a different dynamic approach, a different spectral balance, more or less compression. I don’t fuss over these being perfect. The goal isn’t to guess correctly. It’s to narrow the field, then repeat the process, moving closer to what feels right.

It’s a bit like an eye exam. The ophthalmologist swaps lenses and asks, “Do you prefer this… or this?” Comparing two things is straightforward. Trying to evaluate a dozen abstract possibilities is not. This approach helps us hone in quickly on what feels right. Once the client responds strongly (whether positive or negative), we’re no longer in the dark but moving with intention.

Ultimately, I’m not aiming for approval. I’m not looking for “that’ll do.”

I want the client to hear the mix and feel a sense of recognition. As though the version they imagined has finally become audible. When that happens, the notes disappear. Not because they’ve been addressed mechanically, but because the intention behind them has been heard.

That’s when I know the mix is complete.