Playing Live: How I Build My Live Set

Studio production and live performance are two different animals. In the studio, you have unlimited takes, perfect isolation, and the freedom to layer 40+ tracks if you want. On stage, you have one chance. The gear has to work, the mixing has to hold up in a room with acoustic gremlins, and you need to keep people locked in. This is how I bridge that gap—how I turn a densely produced studio track into something that breathes and moves in real time, whether it's just me with a Rhodes and a computer or a full band locked in on a pocket.

From Studio to Stage: The Stems Approach

Every Ch.1 track starts as a multi-tracked composition in Ableton. That means dozens of individual elements—drums, bass, keys, synth layers, effects, textural padding. The first step in building a live version is deciding what actually needs to be there to capture the song's essence. The studio can hide complexity in reverb and layering; live performance needs clarity.

I approach this by bouncing stems: discrete audio files for drums, bass, harmony (keys/synths), and any textural elements that form the backbone. Not every part gets a stem—if an element is purely coloration (a reverb tail, a slight harmonic shimmer), I'll let it collapse into an existing stem rather than create a separate one. The goal is a clean set of 3-6 core elements per track that I can manage in real time.

The studio gives you freedom to add endless layers. Live performance teaches you which layers actually matter.

The Click and Backing Track

Live performance needs a clock. I run a click track through my in-ear monitor rig—nothing fancy, just a metronomic pulse locked to the session. The stems play back from Ableton Live on a laptop, triggered and controlled via an iPad running Ableton Console (a web controller connected via OSC). This setup gives me flexibility: I can loop a section if the energy calls for it, mute a layer to strip things down, or add emphasis by bringing in a hidden synth pad that's ready to go.

The backing tracks run at a fixed tempo, which means any live instrumentation—bass, keys, percussion—has to lock into that grid. For shows with a full band, this is non-negotiable; for solo performances, it's equally important because the audience can feel when timing drifts.

The Live Gear Chain

What goes in the bag, and what stays in the studio?

What's On Stage

• Rhodes Stage MK2 — The harmonic anchor. It's portable, sounds warm and organic in a live context, and gives me real-time control over texture and dynamics. The Rhodes provides the human element that pure backing tracks can't deliver.
• Mackie DL32S Digital Mixer — 32 channels, built-in WiFi, fully digital workflow. This mixer is the brain of my live rig. It handles mixing the stems, my live instruments, band instruments (if it's a full-band show), and outputs to the PA. It also manages my IEM (in-ear monitor) mixes so I can hear myself and any band members.
• iPad with Ableton Console — Wireless control of Ableton Live. I can adjust clip levels, mute/solo tracks, and trigger clip launches from the mixing position. No need to huddle over a laptop during a performance.
• Wireless IEM System — In-ear monitors so I can hear the click and the band (if present). This is critical for timing and collective lock.
• Monitoring & Control Cables — XLR, USB, and networking gear to connect everything. The Mackie handles both audio mixing and monitoring management, which keeps the rig compact.

What Stays Home

• Custom Preamps & Transformers — These are studio-only. On stage, the Mackie's preamps and the DI boxes handle everything adequately.
• Synth Modules — While I own synths, they're not part of the portable live rig. The stems and backing tracks replace them in a live context. This keeps the setup lean and reliable.
• Reverb & Effects Rack — The Mackie has decent built-in effects, and I can pre-process stems with effects in Ableton before they leave the studio. Live effects are mixed subtly, not as a core tool.

The philosophy here is simplicity married with control. The Mackie and iPad give me mixing flexibility without requiring a full studio console. The Rhodes is the only non-sampled instrument because it's small enough to transport and essential enough to justify the space.

Band vs Solo: The Honest Trade-offs

I play Ch.1 both ways—solo and with a full band—and they're genuinely different experiences.

Solo Performance

Solo, I'm managing everything: the backing tracks, the click, the Rhodes, the overall energy arc. Complete control means I can respond to the room in real time. If a section feels flat, I can strip things down or add a layer from a hidden backing track. If the pocket tightens, I can lock harder into the Rhodes. The trade-off is mental load—I'm thinking about three things at once (timing, mixing, playing), which is manageable but requires deep preparation.

Solo performance also feels intimate. The audience sees the work—the real playing, the sonic texture coming from my hands. There's honesty in that. But it can also feel slightly exposed, especially on dense tracks where you're holding down an entire emotional arc alone.

Full Band Performance

With a band—drummer, bassist, other musicians—the dynamic shifts. The groove can swing in ways backing tracks can't. A human drummer can feel the pocket and adjust microscopically; a click is a click. There's genuine collective lock, where the band breathes as one organism, and that's something the audience feels immediately.

The downside: you're now dependent on other musicians. The energy, timing, and execution of the whole show ride on collective preparation. Band shows require more rehearsal and coordination. But when it lands, when that full band sound fills a room, there's no substitute. Ch.1 as a full band—drums, bass, keys, synths, a real rhythm section—is what the tracks deserve for the release shows.

Solo is about control. Band is about surrender. Both are legitimate and powerful; it's just a different kind of power.

Preparation and the Sound Check Ritual

Live performance success lives in the details. Three hours before showtime, I'm at the venue running sound check. This is where I verify:

• Wireless IEM latency — Make sure my in-ear mix is in sync with the main output. Even 50ms of delay between what I hear and what's in the room is disorienting.
• Backing track levels — Each stem's relative level in the mix. Drums too loud? Bass swimming? I lock this in during check, so during the show, I'm only making surgical adjustments.
• Rhodes tone and reverb blend — Run a few chord voicings through the system, check the tone in the room (not in the wedge monitor), adjust the reverb level.
• Band tightness with the click — If there's a drummer, run a few bars of the opening section. Check locking, timing comfort, any equipment issues.
• PA system response — Different rooms have different acoustics. Some rooms have boomy lows; others are thin. The Mackie gives me EQ control, and I use sound check to dial in what the room needs.

This ritual sounds meticulous because it is. An hour spent getting everything solid in sound check prevents a 90-minute show from being sabotaged by a feedback loop or a late discovery that the click is running 3% fast. Preparation buys freedom—once the rig is dialed, I can focus on playing and connecting with the audience rather than troubleshooting.

Recording Every Show: The Content Flywheel

Every performance is an opportunity. I record every Ch.1 show with a multi-mic setup captured by the Mackie. From those recordings, I extract stems using Demucs, an open-source audio separation tool. Those stems become content: isolated drum breaks, bass lines, vocal moments, and multi-track videos that show the behind-the-scenes construction of a live performance.

This is a content pipeline with teeth—real music made on real stages, separated and shared. It blurs the line between live and studio and gives fans a direct window into how the music actually works. Over time, these recordings become a living archive of how Ch.1 evolved in front of an audience.

The Philosophy: Musicianship First

At the end, live performance isn't about backing tracks or gear or technical mastery (though all of those matter). It's about making music—real, human, present music—in a room full of other humans who came to feel something. The gear enables that. The preparation ensures it can happen reliably. But the core is always the playing, the Rhodes under your fingers, the pocket you're holding, the vulnerability of making it real and raw.

Studio production is composition. Live performance is conversation. They're both Ch.1, but in completely different languages.