What first attracted me to the idea of recording and mixing wasn’t just a love of music (which could just as easily lead you to be a songwriter or a fan), but a deep‑rooted desire to know why certain records got me up on my feet and dancing, or lying in a dreamlike state, immersed in a wash of sound that made the hairs on my neck tingle. Some of the sounds that triggered such reactions seem laughably simple to me now, but at the time they invoked such a sense of awe that I could only imagine sorcery was involved. Just how did they do it — and, more importantly, how can I?

From my early teens, I learned to play synths and guitars, and acquired technology I hoped would enable me to hear, understand and replicate the sounds hitting my ears. I developed recording, editing and mixing skills that allowed me to bend sounds to my will, and blend them to taste.

I now love making and shaping music every bit as much as I used to enjoy listening to my favourite artists. But the heady mix of ‘magic’ and ignorance that made so many records so enticing has, of course, largely given way to science and understanding. I wouldn’t turn the clock back for a moment, but there’s a tinge of sadness — who wouldn’t want to experience that again?

So I reckon it’s hugely important to work at keeping that feeling alive, and it’s one reason I love curating my reference track playlist. For years, I’ve kept a library of reference tracks, and while once it was all on CD, hindsight tells me I was too snobby about streaming services for a bit too long. Today, while I use full‑quality references for certain things when mixing, I now use reference tracks mostly to keep my ears accustomed to my speakers, room and headphones, or to gauge the character of new gear, and increasingly I’ve been relying on a well‑known streaming app on my phone. My monitor controller has a Bluetooth receiver (streaming and Bluetooth, I know!), so I can whip out the phone and play any number of tracks straight away. Away from the studio I can still listen on the same headphones, which is great.

I’ll seek out new mixes that I could consider exemplars in some respect, and this sort of active listening really is a joy.

A happy side‑effect is that it’s dead easy to spend time reappraising and updating my reference track playlist, a process to which I dedicate a half‑day once every couple of months. I’ll seek out new mixes that I could consider exemplars in some respect, and this sort of active listening really is a joy. Sometimes, I might also spend a while figuring out how a specific producer’s sound has evolved over the last few years. On the most recent occasion I spent a good few hours travelling down a Serban Ghenea‑shaped rabbithole, listening to the most wonderfully present, yet deep and spacious pop productions. Just how did he do that — and, more importantly, how can I?