Loud is not a verb
I’ve done loads of interviews about the voice over the years, so I’m starting with the questions I get asked most. Here’s the first one:
“What is the most important thing that you teach to everyone?”
Loud is not a verb.
Loud is a perception. The perception of a sound is a completely separate act from the execution of a sound.
If you’re watching a front person and the word “loud” comes to mind (or any adjective describing any perception), you’re probably not engaged with that performance, and neither is the artist giving it.
The “what” of what an audience hears is not a definable, comprehensible or quantifiable thing. It is also completely unrelated to voice production, to the point that such preoccupations with what the audience is thinking can become a burdensome distraction.
Loud is not something you do. It’s someone else’s experience of what you do.
So when a vocalist decides they “have to be the loudest” to compete with guitars, drums, or even the legacy of rival singers past or future, they’ve already lost the fight. Sometimes that means a crisis visit to a voice doc, but always, the way you sound and your vocal health get trashed. When you push to be loud, technique gets left behind and the swelling begins, leaving only hope as a solution. And hope is not a good performance strategy.
Competing for presence in a mix, live or in the studio, is not a race for decibels and sound intensity. It never was.
Our goal is to replace these kinds of fear-based directives with more efficient enablers of vocal excellence. So what does replace them?
A commitment to being present in the physicality of sound, without any cerebral, fear-based, judgmental objectives.
Mental imagery is key here; to actually SEE the sound, thereby replacing the noise in your head, for instance “drawing” an ‘ah’ (/ɑ/) vowel with an imaginary paintbrush across your eye line. Thereby the singing becomes painting the sounds in the air across the venue, towards the back wall, as opposed to a sound to be judged.
The observational and analytical thoughts buried in adjectives like “loud” can do nothing for your poor orphaned voice that’s been hijacked by your noisy, self-obsessed head full of fiction!
If you want somewhere to start, I put together a free Zen of Screaming | Starter Toolbox: 2 exercises, under 5 minutes. It’s a template for what something feels like, not what it sounds like.
Melissa