Monitors and Stage Sound
Monitors are a second sound system, built from the same microphones as the one facing the audience but aimed backwards at the people making the noise. The job is not to sound good. It is to hand you the two or three things you need to hold your pitch and your place in the song — at the lowest level that will do it.
Most bands treat a wedge as a volume control with their name on it. It isn't. A monitor mix is a set of ratios, and the floor underneath every one of them is the loudest thing on stage that nobody can turn down. Every request for more of yourself lifts that floor for the person beside you — and the level you all settle at is the single biggest thing standing between the audience and a mix worth hearing.
The Monitors Are a Second PA Pointed the Wrong Way
Each channel on the console has a fader that feeds the room and a set of aux sends that feed the stage. Those sends are normally tapped ahead of the fader, so pulling your guitar down out front does not gut your wedge. That independence has a limit worth knowing — on most desks the send is taken after the channel EQ. High-pass the kick to tidy the low end for the audience and the same cut lands in the drummer's monitor, unrequested and unannounced.
Between that send and the box on the floor sits an equaliser which is not yours and is not there to flatter anything. It has been set to pull down the narrow bands where the wedge and the microphones in front of it begin to ring — a job the feedback lesson covers in full. What matters standing on stage is the consequence: those cuts were made before you arrived, they belong to the wedge rather than to your voice, and asking for the frequencies they removed is asking back the stability they bought.
At club scale there is no separate monitor engineer, and rarely as many mixes as musicians. One person runs the room and the stage from the same desk, and the number of genuinely independent monitor mixes is capped by how many aux sends that desk has. Your mix is somebody else's mix too. Budget two requests, not twenty.
Stage Volume Sets the Ceiling on Everything the Audience Hears
Every open microphone hears every loud thing on stage, not only the source it points at. That spill arrives with a different tone and a few milliseconds of delay, and no processing removes it afterwards. What it does to a mix is quiet and total — it welds the channels together. Turn the vocal up and the drums come up with it. Pull the guitar fader to the bottom and the guitar keeps playing — at whatever level it leaks into four other channels.
That second point is the one to internalise. An engineer can add anything, but can only subtract down to the leakage floor. So the acoustic balance you set on stage is roughly the balance the audience receives, plus whatever the PA piles on top — the console can build upward from that balance but never move far away from it. A loud stage has made most of the mixing decisions before the first fader moves.
Wedges are part of stage volume, and frequently the largest part of it. A monitor loud enough to beat an unmiked snare at two metres also dominates the vocal microphone half a metre in front of it. Turning the backline down therefore pays twice — once because the amp is quieter in every mic on stage, and again because no wedge now has to be as loud to be heard over it.
More Me Is a Ratio Problem Wearing a Volume Costume
Here is how a stage arrives at a level nobody chose. The singer can't hear themselves, so their wedge goes up. That wedge is now the loudest thing near the guitarist, whose own mix has just got worse — so theirs goes up as well. Two rounds later every ratio sits roughly where it started, the whole stage is louder, and the new energy is landing in the vocal microphone the audience depends on.
The misconception is that being inaudible means you need more of yourself. You almost never do. You need less of whatever is masking you, and cutting that costs the system nothing while buying the same audibility a boost would have — with the difference that it leaves headroom for the next person instead of spending theirs. Subtractive requests compound in your favour. Additive ones compound against everybody, including you, about ninety seconds later.
Shared wedges make the arithmetic literal. If you and the bass player are on one send, more of you is less of them — and one of you is about to have a worse night. Settle that between yourselves during load-in rather than bidding against each other through a stranger at the console.
Name the Channel and the Direction, Never the Adjective
An engineer can act immediately on a channel name plus a direction. Warmer, clearer, bigger and better are not moves, they are moods — and the response to a mood is a guess that costs everyone a pass through the song. Say what you want changed, which way, and roughly how far — kick up a couple, second guitar out of mine entirely, half as much reverb on the vocal.
Two habits make those requests land. Describe the symptom alongside the fix, because there is often a cheaper answer than the one you asked for — losing your pitch may be solved by pulling the guitar down rather than adding vocal, at nobody's cost. Then ask for one change at a time and listen to it, because three simultaneous moves leave nobody able to say which one helped.
Timing matters as much as wording. Soundcheck happens in an empty room and you play in a full one, where bodies absorb the high end and shorten the reverberation your wedges were tuned against. The mix you approved will be wrong by the second song. Work out before doors how you will ask for one change mid-set without turning round.
In-Ears Fix the Right Problem and Sell You Three New Ones
In-ear monitors replace the wedge with a sealed earphone, and what they genuinely solve is the loop between a loud stage and a louder monitor. Nothing radiates into the microphones, your mix travels with you instead of living in one square metre of floor, and the seal means a useful level is a lower level. Tested by an independent laboratory to the standard hearing-protector protocol, custom silicone in-ears measured a noise reduction rating of 29 dB — serious attenuation by any industrial measure.
The isolation is lopsided, though, and that catches people out. In those same measurements attenuation ran about 33 dB at 250Hz against nearly 48 dB at 6.3kHz, and less blocking at the bottom than the top is normal for anything sealed into an ear canal. Cymbals and guitar vanish; the kick, the bass rig and the low end of the room walk straight past. Two further costs arrive with the first downbeat. The audience disappears, which is why bands who switch end up feeding a pair of crowd microphones into every mix — and a bad in-ear mix has no escape hatch the way a bad wedge does.
The hearing benefit is real and it is not automatic. Researchers who put musicians on both systems found the level people actually chose with in-ears sat about 0.6 dB below the level they chose with wedges, while the quietest level they would still accept was roughly 6 dB lower. That gap is the entire protection — and it is only yours if you deliberately take it. NIOSH recommends 85 dBA averaged over eight hours on a 3 dB exchange rate, which allows fifteen minutes at 100 dBA, and the WHO's venue standard notes that small and mid-sized music rooms routinely exceed 100 dB averaged over a quarter of an hour. OSHA's older workplace limit is looser — 90 dBA over eight hours on a 5 dB exchange rate, permitting two full hours at that same 100 dBA. Those are two different standards rather than two roundings of one, and the strict one is what to plan a long career against.
Getting a Mix You Can Actually Play To
- Decide your top two before you walk on — a monitor mix gets built from a short list, and the player holding one gets served first.
- Ask for less before you ask for more — cutting what masks you buys the same audibility as a boost, without ratcheting the stage level up.
- Take the backline down first, wedges second — a decibel off an amp comes off every open channel and every monitor at once.
- Give the channel, the direction and the amount — "much less guitar in mine" is one second's work, where "it sounds muddy" is a guess someone pays for.
- Re-check once the room has people in it — an audience absorbs the high end and shortens the reverberation, so the balance you signed off has already moved.
- Price an in-ear rig as three purchases — earphones, something to drive them, and optionally a moulded fit; wired costs a fraction of wireless, per person.
- Set in-ears at the quietest level that works — not the level you are used to, because the protection exists at the lower setting only.