ZEN AND THE ART OF AUDIO EDITING

and how to focus on what is important.

By Nick Dunkerley, Founder

Are you ever focused… really focused?

I’m not.

If I walk out of the office with a thought in mind and hit the street, I’m immediately met with a constant buzz of distractions.
Cars honking. Sirens wailing. People chattering.
Cats meowing. Doors slamming. Children laughing.
Phones ringing. Emails pinging. Notifications popping.
And I’m clinging to my thought like it’s made of soap.

I find a café, sit down to write, and…

Clang—clink.

A plate hits the counter. The coffee machine groans to life.
A couple laughs at the next table.
The thought is slipping.
A dog barks. The waiter arrives with my drink.
And just like that... it’s gone.

I read somewhere that it takes about twenty minutes to get back into focus after a disturbance.
Twenty minutes! Imagine that.
Every email, every breaking news update, every notification about the price of cabbage or a holiday photo from someone you last saw in 1998.
It all costs you twenty minutes.

Looking at my children, swiping through an endless stream of distractions, it's a wonder they get their socks on in the morning.

But I digress.

Distractions aren’t just audible. They’re visual too.
Visual clutter. Messy desks, chaotic timelines, overloaded screens... can make your brain feel just as scattered.
It’s hard to focus when your eyes keep drifting toward a pile of dishes.

So what does this have to do with audio editing?

Quite a bit, actually.

Audio editing can mean many things to many people.
For some, it’s technical: cleaning up sound, removing “um”s and “uh”s, fiddling with EQs and compressors.
And that’s fine.
But for me, it’s all about the story.

Sure, the sound can’t be distracting - it might even sound amazing - but if the story doesn’t capture your audience, it’s all for nothing.
No one has ever listened to a podcast or a radio piece and said,
"I had no idea what it was about, but it sounded great, so I stuck around for all twelve episodes.
Oh, the compression? Made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Made me think as well…”

No one has ever said that. I dare you.

So… story.

Will the listener understand the story?
Is the premise clear? Are the characters introduced?
Is there a problem, a conflict, a turning point, a resolution?
Is there… a story arc?

Is the story… focused… see?

So, what has all this to do with the price of cabbage and photos from Tenerife?
Well, here’s what often happens:

You sit down to create your audio story.
You open your DAW — and are immediately faced with a stack of decisions: sample rates, mono vs. stereo, track types, file formats.
Once you’ve made it past that onslaught, it’s time to dive into the material.

Depending on the kind of story you’re telling, things can look very different.

For nonfiction, it might be interviews, ambient sound, maybe a bit of tape from the field.
For fiction or more produced pieces, it could be recordings with voice actors, music, soundbeds, sound effects — layers upon layers of audio.

But no matter the format, one thing tends to be true:
You’ve got a lot of material. And it’s all competing for your attention.

You start listening through it…

“The dog was never the same after that night.”
Drop it onto a scratch track.

Another good line. Then another.
Maybe they’ll be useful. Maybe not.
Clips are piling up.

“There was no sound. It was just… hovering there.”

You scratch your head: How do I make the sound of silence that’s hovering?

You start to feel inspired.
“What would this sound like with music?”
You import a track. Add a bit of ambience. Try a test mix.

You're in it now. Momentum is building. This is going to be great.

Then another clip. And another.
Soon, you’re surrounded by hundreds of audio pieces.
Some edited, some not. Some layered with music or sound effects. Others untouched.
It’s thrilling. Much like the buzz of the town.
Your senses are overwhelmed. And now the original thought begins to fade.

Where’s that take where she says, ‘My name is Karen’?

It’s a mess. And the original thought is slipping.

This is where structuring your material comes in.

If possible, start with transcripts.
They let you see the shape of the conversation, and search content. Faster.
You can even attach parts of the transcript to the clips themselves, making them easier to find later.

If your DAW allows, don’t dump everything into the timeline.
Organize your clips. Use folders, bins, groups, clipboards.
Label things clearly. Use names that make sense. Logical categories.

Interview with Karen:

• Karen – Introduction

• Karen – Childhood

• Karen – First Encounter

Organize meaning—not just content.

• The Memory

• The Turning Point

• The Emotional Break

Once your clips are safely sorted, you can clear the timeline.
De-clutter. Audio Feng Shui, if you will.

Now, with a clean slate, you can begin laying out the actual story.
Listen through. Is it clear what it’s about?
Add narration to help fill the gaps. Is the story moving forward?

Add ambience and music. Is it supporting the emotion of the story?

If you can, step away.
Have a break and listen again.
Yes, this step takes time.
But with the time you saved being able to find your clips, you’re still doing well.
If you have more time, and friends, let them have a listen while you take notes.
Do they understand the story?
And do you find yourself explaining it to them?
If you do, then explain it to your listeners as well.

Now that things are less chaotic, there’s room to experiment.
Play with structure. Change the pacing.
Your first draft probably won’t be your best.

But when you’re organized, when your workspace is clean, it’s so much easier to be creative.
You’re not just editing.
You’re telling a story.

And at the end of the day, that’s what it’s all about.

Telling stories.
Stories that, in themselves, are focusing - casting light on something that needs to be told.
That your audience, for a moment, is asked to focus on.