It turns out I’m a moron.
Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. (I do have a master’s degree, after all.)
But it is true that I’ve been playing guitar for almost 30 years, and it wasn’t until the last few weeks that I figured out I was missing a rather important piece of the puzzle.
It all started at our last show.
Why can’t I hear myself?
About six months ago I joined a band.
After the first few shows, I realized my little 15W tube amp just couldn’t cut it in a rock band. (It still works great at church, though.) So I leveled up and bought a Marshall DSL40C with 40 watts of rip-your-face-off power.
I should have no problem being heard now, right?
I’ve been playing guitar for almost 30 years, and it wasn’t until the last few weeks that I figured out I was missing a rather important piece of the puzzle.
Wrong.
At the next show, I could hear myself a little better, but the audience couldn’t. And so in between sets, I kept inching the volume up more and more.
But it didn’t work. No matter how loud the amp got, my guitar was just getting lost in the mix. I ended the night frustrated, vowing to figure out how to solve this issue.
The problem: “bedroom tone”
Here is a truism I’ve learned over the years: no matter what problem you have, someone else has already experienced it, solved it, and made a YouTube video about it.
Sure enough…
In my case, I found half a dozen videos. And they all said the same thing.
The culprit is “bedroom tone.” This is the tone you dial in when you’re practicing at home.
It’s just you and your guitar, usually in a small space. If you’re a guitarist who’s just starting out, you might “scoop the mids” — i.e., boosting the lows and highs and zeroing out the middle frequencies.
No matter what problem you have, someone else has already experienced it, solved it, and made a YouTube video about it.
At some point, however, many of us learn to find a more balanced sound. We adjust our settings until we get a nice, thick, luscious tone with warmth and depth.
But when you take either of those tones on the road and put it in a live setting, you’re guaranteed to get lost in the mix.
Why? Because you’re not thinking about where the guitar sits within the band.
Your guitar is a mid-range instrument — so adjust your amp accordingly
Whether you’re scooping the mids or looking for a warmer, rounded tone, the problem in a live setting is the same.
In both cases, the low and high frequencies are fighting for space with other instruments — and losing.
The guitar is a mid-range instrument. That’s where its strong suit is, and that’s where it wants to be.
Emphasizing low frequencies in your guitar tone ensures you will be squaring off against the kick drum and bass, two instruments specifically designed for lower registers. Your guitar doesn’t stand a chance.
Likewise, emphasizing the high frequencies pits you against instruments like cymbals, high hats, female vocals, and potentially the keyboard’s upper register. You won’t win these battles either (but you won’t lose them quite as badly as you will with the lows).
As it turns out, the guitar is a mid-range instrument.
That’s where its strong suit is, and that’s where it wants to be. But in our bedroom settings, the mids are almost always too low — both in absolute terms and in relation to the other tonal frequencies.
That’s why I was getting lost in the mix. I was dialing in a good tone at home, but it just wasn’t translating at our shows. I was fighting with other instruments to be heard instead of finding my own sonic space to occupy.
Given the above information, I was now able to set my amp’s EQ in a way that made sense in a band setting.
Here, then, is the secret to live tone—the secret they don’t want you to know (kidding!):
- Turn bass frequencies down to zero, then bring them back up just until you hear a difference
- Turn mid frequencies all or almost all the way up
- Set your high frequencies to taste
- Turn your gain (including distortion and overdrive pedals) down by about 15 percent
- Keep delay/reverb minimal (in a live situation, less is more)
My “lightbulb” moment (it will sound like crap)
All of the above is a summation of the various blog posts and videos I found.
I tried to stick with solid sources (like professional musicians and sound engineers), and they all pretty much said the same thing. I was fairly confident that I was on the right track.
And so, like the sheeple I am, I dutifully went downstairs, adjusted my amp and pedals to the advised settings, plugged in my guitar, and started to play.
What none of the experts had bothered to tell me was, “Yes, Jon, a good live tone will sound bad in your home and by yourself.”
That’s when I learned the most important thing — the thing none of the articles or videos discussed. But it was when the lightbulb clicked on in my brain.
My guitar sounded terrible.
The tone was thin, almost nasally. It was so bad, it made me not want to play guitar anymore. Why had I abandoned my amazing bedroom tone for this sonic monstrosity?
What none of the experts had bothered to tell me was, “Yes, Jon, a good live tone will sound bad in your home and by yourself.”
Testing in a low-stakes environment
Nevertheless, I was not deterred. I was determined to find out if the experts were right.
The next chance I had to play with other musicians was a practice session for the worship team at church. Using the above information, I dialed in a tone that I didn’t think sucked too bad during warm-up (I still didn’t love it).
My guitar suddenly sounded amazing. Even more, I could clearly hear myself in the mix for the first time — regardless of volume.
Once we started to play, I was blown away.
My guitar suddenly sounded amazing. Even more, I could clearly hear myself in the mix for the first time — regardless of volume. In fact, I’ve literally never heard myself better.
Even stranger, when I engaged my overdrive pedal, the crunch somehow seemed crunchier than before — even though the gain was dialed down.
That was the moment I had to admit, the experts were right.
A tale of two tones
I’ve come to understand that every guitarist needs two tones: a bedroom tone and a live tone.
Dialing in a solid bedroom tone is still important. After all, I still want to sound good even when I’m just practicing by myself. And with all of the sonic range available, why not fill it?
But just as important is dialing in a “separate but equal” live tone. When I play a show, I want the audience to be able to hear me. I want to be able to hear me. (I mean, it’s kind of the point.)
So rather than thinking one is better (or worse) than the other, just understand that they are meant to be used in different settings.
Every guitarist needs two tones: a bedroom tone and a live tone.
Your live tone will sound bad at home, and your bedroom tone will get lost in the mix at shows.
But your bedroom tone will help you practice more and longer, and your live tone will help you be heard in your band.
I’m excited about this new shift in my thinking, and I can’t wait for my next show. I just wish it hadn’t taken me three decades to figure it out.
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