From Band Life to Broadcast Sound

Before PodShaper—before podcasts existed—I was standing in front of a wall of amps making as much noise as humanly possible. With heart, intention, and yeah, with a lot of pedals.

I played in a band called Ethan Durelle for years. We wrote, recorded, and toured together. It was post-punk, a bit experimental, full of big dynamics and sometimes even bigger messes. And I loved it.

What hooked me wasn’t just the music—it was the sound. The texture of feedback, the swell of reverb, the way one guitar could either cut through or disappear into a mix depending on how you played it. I was obsessed with tone. Still am.

We tracked everything ourselves. No shortcuts. Just trial, error, layering, listening. Every show was a live experiment in energy and restraint. And I learned a lot in that chaos—especially how to listen.

Not just to what’s loudest, but to what’s sitting underneath. The breath before the chorus. The clash between two sounds that almost work. The silence that means more than any note you could play.

That muscle—deep listening—is something I still use every single day.

When I edit a podcast, I’m not just trying to make it sound “professional.” I’m shaping the emotional arc. I’m listening for friction, flow, timing, trust. The same way I once listened to my bandmates before I hit my first note.

I don’t just want an episode to sound clean—I want it to land. To carry some kind of weight.

That comes from years with Ethan Durelle—and before that, Mark Needs a Chick, Superfluous, annnd my high school’s marching band. (Everyone starts somewhere.) From busted pedals and last-minute soundchecks. From figuring out how to make something raw feel alive.

These days, the guitar rig doesn’t leave the house as often. But that ear—the one trained on tone, tension, and texture—is still very much in play.

If you want an audio asset that doesn’t just sound good but feels right, I’d love to help shape it.

Let’s talk: hello@podshaper.com or https://www.podshaper.com/contact