ACT 3. The “Happy” Artist Experience

WARNING: Dates, locations, brands, model numbers and names may have been changed to protect the innocent… and the guilty.

New here? Read ACT 1 before continuing.

A "True" Story About Sound, Vision, and a Surprise Reunion

Sage had seen a hundred studios in a dozen cities, but nothing about her walk up to the front door of Songa Studios ST LOUIS felt familiar. Something about the air—part ozone, part cedar, part potential—made her chest tighten the way it used to before stepping onstage. She wasn’t here to perform. She was here to decide whether this place would become home.

“You must be Sage,” I said, holding out my hand. “Welcome to the place we’ve been building for you—before we even knew your name.”

The Tour Begins

Songa Studios wasn’t just a studio. It was a prototype for something bigger: a cross between a cathedral of sound and a Silicon Valley incubator for a musical community.

She was a founding investor, now she just had to invest her time, talent and treasure.

But most of all, her Self.

For her to buy in completely, I started with the basics. The soundstage was wrapped in honeycomb bass traps, diffused oak panels, and fiber-treated walls that bent reverb like light in a lens. The main recording room had a Solid State Logic Duality Delta 48-channel console, paired with Neumann U87 vocal mics and Universal Audio Apollo x8p interfaces.

“You can feel the difference,” I said, pressing my hand to the walls. “We don’t just capture your music—we preserve its intention.”

Sage nodded, half-listening, half-eavesdropping on her own heartbeat. Something strange was building in her chest. She d idn’t know if it was nerves or nostalgia.

the following image was created using AI. it is a conceptual representation of the LIVE podcast studio (called “The ‘Green’ Room”)

A Studio That Breathes

I led her into the heart of the building. It was unlike anything Sage had seen.

Every corner pulsed with intention. Rooms weren’t just acoustically treated—they were emotionally tuned. Cedar walls wrapped around live recording rooms like a hug. Honeycomb-shaped bass traps seemed to hum beneath her boots.

“This is our main soundstage,” I told her. “We call it the Temple.”

Sage raised an eyebrow. “Bit dramatic?”

“Trust me,” I said, flicking a switch. “Wait for the reverb.”

I clapped my hands. The sound hit the walls and returned like silk. Controlled. Velvet. Sacred.

“Okay,” she admitted. “The Temple it is.”

Tools of the Trade

From the control room, I pointed out the gear.

“SSL Duality Delta board,” I grinned, patting the 48-channel console like a beloved dog. “Paired with Neumann U87s. And all routed through the Apollo x8p interface.”

Sage leaned in. The lights, the knobs, the meters—they felt like the cockpit of a spaceship.

“We can take your rawest whisper and turn it into something cinematic,” I said, directing her out of the control room and through the hall, lined with lyric sheets.

We entered a lounge that felt more like a low-lit jazz bar than a green room. And then into a vaulted space with blackout shades and video monitors.

Some offers aren’t too good to be true. They’re just true.

“We offer three tracks,” I said. “Essentials. Pro. Elite.”

Wyoming had told me the same, on the tour he gave me only a week prior.

I opened a drawer, pulled out three vinyl records. Each sleeve was blank but for one handwritten phrase:

The Essentials are $1,500, and you’ll save an additional 10%, or $150, if you grab your annual Substack membership right here on Substack below. 100% of profits go to the artists. And your package includes…