What is with all the complaining about the sound quality at the free shows around town?
I am an astute concertgoer who has noticed some of the uneven sound. I attribute it to the diverse styles of music these guys must mix every day. To them I say, “Thanks.” It’s a very difficult job to make every band sound great. The folks who don’t like the sound quality should ask for a refund. Oh yeah the music is free – so stop whining!
Speaking of free music, I’d like to give a shout out to Scott Foxx and Bobby Lindstrom, whose band nailed it at Munch and Music [Thursday]. Eric Tollefson’s set at Sagebrush Tuesday was a thing of beauty. Thanks, Guys.
Congratulations to Necktie Killer for their well earned win at Last Band [Standing]. They butched up their set and went toe-to-toe with our heaviest bands. Their sound was more articulate than the others and was bolstered by the best rhythm section in the competition.
So when you go to the free shows, I urge you to listen to the music and artists, not the sound system. We have a lively music scene here with diverse acts and great settings. If you don’t like the sound quality, leave. Or if you can do it better, then shut up and get to it.
– Listener Mike, Bend
This article appears in Jul 21-27, 2011.
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I’ve been to plenty of shows here and have heard some of the best live sound in my life. I’ve written about it on my blog. But I gotta say that there have been bands at the downtown events that I would have loved to have listened to were it not for the atrocious sound: dull, muddy bass, and screeching treble so sharp it could cut glass. Edgy treble is typical for older transistorized equipment, and a pair of ear plugs can temper that. But what really frosts my pumpkin is the laziness of the sound board operators. All it takes is a pair of ears to hear the sound, a pair of eyes to watch the band, and an interest in making sure that whoever is playing — the lead guitarist, the conga player — is actually audible. Instead, what I have seen over and over is the sound guy chatting up his friends and paying no attention while someone onstage is possibly playing their personal best solo ever — completely drowned out by the drummer’s cymbals.