God bless sound men. They are the angels of amplification.
The sound man is always the most important person for a performer to be on good terms with.If he doesn’
t like you, he can ensure that you a literally never heard from again! Fortunately, I have had a string of superb sound men. I can’t always say the same for sound equipment, especially in those settings where sound men are unavailable. Once, when I was using a head mic, I fixed it too close to my nose. The edge of my breath blowing down on it sounded like a Heffalump with a cold. On the road I sometimes set my own volume and, while the feedback I get from the audience is predominately positive, the feedback that comes through the speakers is–ooh–painful.
Recently, I performed in a beautiful pine roofed hall in a senior community where the microphone attacked me. The activities director borrowed the microphone and mic stand from in front of the podium. It was extended for his not inconsiderable height and he simply bent it down to harp level as I started playing. However, I like to stand between songs and speak to the audience, so when I finished, I tried to raise the mic to my medium height mouth without asking for any help. The overbalanced arm was not tight. As I sat to play the next piece, the extended arm of the stand began to descend. I could feel the microphone sinking slowly above my right shoulder, like a gigantic stork. Mentally I tried to measure the rate of fall with the length of the song as it’s skinny shadow loomed over
me. I nearly got pecked by a microphone.
God chooses us to be his amplification, his microphones and speakers. He also makes us sound men, with a volume knob. I understand to a new degree why a microphone needs to stand tall, to be available to speak through. While I hope to not overdrive my speakers or cause any crackle of contentious feedback, I pray that I am always the right volume, loud enough to be heard.