When Perfect Becomes the Enemy of Good

Hey friends,

Can we talk about that voice in your head for a minute? You know the one I mean – it shows up right after you've laid down what feels like your best work yet, whispering "but what if you just tweaked that snare a bit more?" or "maybe the vocal needs more compression?”

I call it the perfectionist's curse, and if you're anything like me (and most producers I know), it's probably sabotaged more good music than you'd care to admit.

The 91-Mix Reality Check

Here's a story that hit hard the first time I heard it. During the mixing of Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" – you know, that track that basically defined a generation – mix engineer Bruce Swedien created 91 different versions.

Ninety-one. Let that sink in.

Which version made it onto the Thriller album? Number 2.

Swedien himself later admitted he had "over mixed that song right into the stratosphere." The magic was there early on, but somewhere between mix 2 and 91, he lost sight of what made it special in the first place.

If Bruce Swedien – a legend who worked on some of the biggest records in history – can fall into this trap, what does that say about the rest of us?

Why We Can't Stop Ourselves

Look, I get it. We overthink because we care. Every time you sit down to mix, you're putting a piece of yourself out there. The stakes feel enormous because, in many ways, they are.

But here's what I've learned from my own battles with overthinking (and trust me, I've earned a PhD in second-guessing myself): that initial spark you captured? It's usually closer to the truth than anything you'll create after hours of endless tweaking.

I remember working on a track last year that felt great right outta the gate. The groove was there, the chords were buttery smooth, everything clicked. But instead of trusting that feeling, I spent three more sessions "improving" it. By the end, the drums were lifeless, the chords soulless , and somehow I had managed to make the whole thing sound smaller than when I started.

Sound familiar?

The Fresh Ears Advantage

The industry has a term for this: "mix fatigue." It's that moment when you've been so deep in the weeds that you can no longer tell if what you're doing is helping or hurting.

Here's my approach now: when I finish writing and arranging a track, I park it. Minimum three days, ideally a week or more. I know that sounds impossible when you're excited about what you've created, but this distance is everything.

When you come back to your track after a break, you hear it almost like a stranger would. That first impression when you hit play? That's gold. Trust it.

If you're working under tight deadlines and can't take extended breaks, at least give yourself regular 15-20 minute ear rests. Your brain needs time to reset.

Getting In and Getting Out

The best mixers I know have something in common: they're ruthlessly organized and decisive. They get in, make their moves, and get out.

Before you even think about touching a fader, set yourself up for success:

• Label everything clearly (and I mean everything – "audio_freeze2300000001" doesn't count) 😆

• Set up your sends, buses, and routing in advance

• Load your go-to plugins and create mix templates

• Bounce to audio and open in a fresh project when possible

This isn't about being anal-retentive; it's about removing friction from the creative process. The less time you spend hunting for things, the more you can trust your instincts.

When it's time to mix, be selfish with your attention. Phone off, distractions eliminated. You owe it to the music – and to yourself – to be fully present.

Protecting Your First Instincts

Here's the thing that took me years to understand: mixing isn't about achieving some theoretical perfect sound. It's about serving the song and capturing the emotion that was there from the beginning.

Your first instincts aren't random – they're informed by everything you've learned, every record you've loved, every moment you've spent developing your ear. When something feels right immediately, that's your subconscious pulling from years of experience.

The danger comes when we start second-guessing that wisdom. When we convince ourselves that more processing equals better results. When we mistake complexity for quality.

Bruce Swedien's 91 mixes remind us that sometimes the thing that feels too simple, too easy, too obvious is actually perfect exactly as it is.

When to Walk Away

I've started asking myself a simple question when I feel the urge to keep tweaking: "Am I making this better, or am I just making it different?"

If I can't confidently say "better," I stop. I've learned that the urge to keep working is often just anxiety in disguise – the fear that what I've created isn't enough.

But here's the truth: it usually is enough. More than enough.

Your music doesn't need to be perfect; it needs to be honest. It needs to move people. And that magic often lives in the imperfections, in the moments when you trusted your gut and captured something real.

Looking Forward

The next time you're mixing and that familiar voice starts whispering about "just one more tweak," remember Bruce Swedien and those 91 mixes. Remember that the version that changed music history was number 2, not number 91.

Your instincts are sharper than you think. Your first impressions matter more than your second guesses. And sometimes, the bravest thing you can do as an artist is to trust that what you've created is already exactly what it needs to be.

What's one track you've been overthinking lately? What would happen if you went back to an earlier version – maybe even that first rough mix – and listened with fresh ears?

Ready to trust your instincts more? Hit reply and tell me about a time when your first instinct was right, or when overthinking led you astray. I read every response, and your stories often inspire future newsletters.

By the way, check out my most recent sample and MIDI pack exclusively here:
Distinct Soundz by Heath Holme - Electronica Sample & MIDI Pack Vol. 1
Newsletter Subscribers special offer, take 20% off at check out with the code: THINKINGALOUD

Until next time,
Heath