Kaleb D. Allen is a Grammy-nominated recording engineer who has a hand in some of the most culturally impactful records of the past decade. A Musicians Institute graduate and certified Pro Tools expert, Kaleb currently serves as engineer for producer and songwriter John Shanks.
Kaleb’s discography is littered with legendary names, including Sting, Shaggy, Hozier, Adam Lambert, Dolly Parton, and many more. In 2023, Kaleb received a Grammy nomination for Best Reggae Album of the Year for his contributions to the collaborative album Com Fly Wid Mi by Sting and Shaggy.
Despite his very busy schedule, Kaleb recently took some time to sit down with us to talk about his early beginnings, his best advice for up-and-coming engineers, and some of his core recording principles.
Alright, first things first. Tell us who you are, what you’re all about, what you do, etc.
I’m Kaleb Allen, and I’m predominantly a recording engineer. I started out as a drummer in local bands, and since I was usually the one handling our recordings, I naturally got into engineering. Over time, I connected with other musicians and pursued session drumming, taking any opportunity, big or small, to be part of the creative process. One of my first gigs was at Echobar Studios, run by Eric Rikers. As soon as I stepped into a fully-equipped commercial studio, I thought to myself, “This is way cooler than playing drums.”
That moment led me to Musicians Institute, where I took an accelerated audio engineering program that gave me a solid foundation. A few years later, I fully committed to the craft—getting into studios, mastering Pro Tools, learning proper session etiquette, and pushing myself to make recordings that measured up to the records I admired.
How did you finally get your foot in the studio door as an engineer?
My first studio experiences were unpaid internships—literally mopping floors for free—but I was hungry to learn. Chris Montgomery at Tangent Recording and Louis at 17th St. in Orange County gave me my first opportunities.
My first real studio job came at NightBird Studios in West Hollywood. I applied as an intern, but the studio manager, Mike, needed assistant engineers immediately. I had no experience, but he took a chance on me, and I got paid to learn on the job.
That role threw me into a steep learning curve—grasping studio operations, mic selection, and most critically, signal flow. I quickly realized how little I knew until I had to perform under pressure.
That’s a fascinating journey.
I had an unconventional path in this industry, for sure. I worked at two studios simultaneously—NightBird and United Recording. It was a huge conflict of interest in retrospect, but both teams were supportive and let me make it work. I’d spend the first half of my day as a runner at United, then head over to NightBird from 4:30 PM to 1:00 AM. I’d get up at 5 or 6 AM and do it all over again, day after day, for nearly two years.
I wouldn’t change a thing about that experience. It fueled my passion for this industry and provided an incredible education—one I was fortunate to get paid for. It allowed me to support my daughter while pursuing my dream. I was a late bloomer in this field, not truly committing to it until just after my 30th birthday, but once I did, my trajectory was fast.
It also confirms my theory that a lot of drummers end up doing studio work. It makes sense that would be a relatively natural transition.
Absolutely. Many of the engineers I admire started out the same way. Growing up, I was obsessed with how drums sounded on records. Then, once I got into recording, I realized I had no idea how they actually achieved those sounds. I was obsessed.
That curiosity and drive is what fuels the journey. It’s essential.
Definitely. That’s what got me through those years—momentum from people taking a chance on me, and my own passion for learning and improving. In the early days, being a runner can be demoralizing. Some days, you just want it to be over, and you question if you’re making the right choices. But then, the next morning, you can’t wait to do it again. That’s when you know you’re in the right place.
What was the first big session that you were in charge of?
The first big session I was in charge of was at NightBird Studios. I saw on the schedule that Sting was coming in, and I thought, “Oh, I’d love to be a part of that.” I ended up engineering that session, and we hit it off right away. It was an amazing experience. Those sessions kept happening, and they kept asking me back, which was incredible.
That first session at NightBird was when I realized, “Oh, I might actually be good enough at this to earn the confidence of people who have made some of the records that shaped how I listen to music.”
That’s amazing. Are you still working with Sting today?
Yeah! We actually just did a session at EastWest not too long ago.
I listened to The Police obsessively growing up—not just because of Stewart Copeland’s creative drumming, but sonically, everything about those records was formative for me. Same with Sting’s solo career. So to be invited into that world, when I had so little confidence at the time, and then to have them say, “Yeah, that was great, thank you….”
That had to have been so surreal.
Big time.
And thankfully the whole “don’t meet your heroes” thing didn’t prove true.
Absolutely. In my experience, the truly successful people—the ones with long, legendary careers—are usually the most chill. They’ve already done it all, and they’re often focused on other things. There’s no need for a big display about who they are or who they think you should think they are. Not to say there’s zero ego — I’ve had some nightmare experiences. But most of them weren’t with the legends. They’re largely decent people.
I imagine there’s more to gaining their respect than just technical ability; it’s also about understanding studio etiquette.
Oh, definitely. That’s key.
For people just getting into the business, what are some basic studio etiquette tips that would help them early on?
The biggest lesson I learned, through hard-won experience, is to keep your knowledge to yourself at first. A lot of runners and assistant engineers are eager to show how much they know, which comes from enthusiasm and wanting validation. I get it. But that’s not always appropriate.
Part of studio etiquette is understanding that you’re there to serve the process. If someone wants to know what you can do, they’ll ask.
That makes perfect sense.
Trying to shoehorn yourself into situations rarely works. The best opportunities happen organically, not because you’re pushing to prove yourself. If you try too hard to insert yourself, it can create an unbalanced dynamic with whoever you’re trying to impress.
It’s much better to let your work speak for itself. If people see you as someone who listens, who provides a service, and who contributes positively to the environment, you’re already in.
And if you’re doing great work, people will notice — you shouldn’t have to say it out loud.
Yes, 100%.
What was the first time you really noticed how mic placement or studio conditions made a major difference in the recording?
Oh man, that’s a great question. It happened while working at United Recording. That studio—formerly Ocean Way—has an incredible legacy. Some of my favorite records were made in that building, with that gear, in those rooms, using those microphones.
Coming up as a drummer, I was always trying to figure out how people got these incredible drum sounds. One day, we had an expertly mic’d drum session at United. The kit was in a good spot in the room, the mics were placed well, everything was in phase, and the players were great. I pushed the faders up in the control room, and suddenly, there it was. I realized that so much of the sound I had been chasing came from the recording environment itself.
How do you approach or assess different rooms for… like, how do they affect mic placement? How do you assess that from the get-go?
It all depends on the source. With loud instruments or amps, I have to consider the room, mic choice, placement, and polar pattern. Many assume any cardioid mic will work and that bleed is always bad, but that’s not true. Al Schmitt’s *On the Record* highlights how bleed can be beneficial if managed properly.
Loud sources also create strong reflections, which can be useful or problematic. High ceilings help avoid harsh reflections, unlike a low seven-foot ceiling that bounces sound back too quickly. Every variable—room, source, and mic choice—shapes my approach.
Mic placement always comes first, even before EQ. If I’m miking an acoustic guitar, I’ll move the mic while listening in headphones to shape the sound. Need more high-end? Adjust the mic. Need a different tone? Swap it out. Not every studio is going to have your dream mic waiting for you, so adaptability is key.
Right.
That touches on things like the ML-1A and the ability to really get those flavors out of all the different microphones. These days, the options are virtually endless. I’d advise anyone trying to get into this to go through different microphones. If you have the ML-1A, try different microphones before you touch an EQ.
The function of EQ is to change phase relationships within all the harmonic and fundamental frequencies of a given source. If you’re notching stuff all over the place, you’re going to end up with something that doesn’t sound like the instrument you’re recording. And then when you listen to it in context or solo it, you’ll wonder why it doesn’t sound the way you want it to. It’s because you’ve butchered the characteristics of what makes that instrument sound like itself. If you can get the tone and color you want with just the microphone and mic placement, it’s unbelievable how well things fall together in the mix later.
Do you have any hard and fast studio rules that you find apply no matter what room you’re in or who/what you’re working with?
The most important thing is ensuring the artist has full control over their headphone mix. Whether through Pro Tools or a console, they need a great mix to feel inspired and deliver their best performance. I can’t fix a bad take after the fact—performance comes first. When the artist hears exactly what they need, I just hit record, and the magic happens. In every great session I’ve had, the common thread was a stellar headphone mix. When that’s right, the rough mix at the end of the day already sounds incredible.
Are there any unique things you’ve discovered in the studio involving mic placement scenarios where you got a result you didn’t expect?
This ties back to understanding mic polar patterns. Many engineers default to cardioid for a direct, in-your-face sound, especially on vocals. But that often introduces proximity effect issues—too much low-mid buildup, leading them to notch out 200 Hz or have the artist back up. The problem? As soon as the vocalist moves away, you get more room sound, and the recording loses its tight, focused quality.
A better solution is switching the mic to Omni or Figure 8 in a dead room. This naturally reduces the proximity effect without relying on EQ, preserving clarity while still maintaining a sense of directionality. I first noticed this trick by experimenting, then later confirmed it through some great research. Omni mode, in particular, works wonders for eliminating low-mid muddiness while keeping the vocal presence intact.
The less EQ I need after the fact, the better the recording will sound. Getting it right at the source always wins over fixing it later.
How big a role does experimentation play in your day-to-day workflow?
That’s a good question. I’d say only about 20-25% of the time. More often than not, when I’m with the artist and producer, it’s pretty much go time. They have the things they want in my workflow.
When it comes to the mixing side, that’s where experimentation really shines. When it’s just me in the room and I’m twisting knobs, that’s when it’s time to experiment. I can be subtle and sneaky about being experimental during tracking, but if I’m being truthful, it’s not all that often. It can be difficult to jump out on a limb while people are being creative and want to track right away, especially when they have a tight schedule. That can be tricky.
Experimentation must be much more important in the learning phase, right?
Yep, absolutely. Taking time for yourself before or after the artist is in the room to experiment is a good idea. I’d suggest doing it after the session. I’ve tried experimenting before a session, and then I forget what I did when the session starts. That ends up being a roadblock later.
Gotcha.
So my more specific suggestion would be to record some good material during the day and then experiment with it afterward. That’ll help inform the next session, whether it’s with that artist or not. Even if I’m tired or have ear fatigue after the session, it’s a really good time to take inventory of what you’ve done and try changing up a few things. It’s a good fail-safe to wait until after the session to get experimental.
Do you ever switch microphones mid-session to capture a specific vocal effect, or do you typically stick with one mic and adjust its placement to achieve the desired sound?
I’d say the latter; that’s always going to result in a drastically different sound. Even a slight movement, especially if the mic is in cardioid, will have a discernible difference on tonality. Dave Pensado talks about using different microphones for lead vocals versus background vocals for the same vocalist, and that works well.
What are some common pitfalls that both new and experienced engineers can avoid to help enhance their workflow in the studio?
Oh, that’s a good one. I’d say always take the time to ensure everything works—especially the gear you’ll be using. Check inputs, Pro Tools settings, DSP modes, and hardware inserts before the session starts.
If you’re in a new studio, don’t wait until the artist arrives to troubleshoot. I’ve seen too many engineers skip prep because they’re not getting paid for setup time. But being prepared leads to smoother sessions, better results, and more callbacks from artists and studios.
If you’re focused on squeezing every billable second or just feeling lazy, take a step back. The worst time to discover a broken mic capsule is when the artist is already in the booth. Preparation prevents those disasters, so do the work upfront.
Being early is being on time.
Absolutely.
If you’re working entirely in the box or find yourself in a studio setup that’s lacking some essential tools, are there any plugins that you consider especially beneficial?
The Virtual Mix Rack has been a game-changer for me. I use it in every session, even for rough mixes. That and Virtual Tape Machine are my go-to plugins. I don’t have a tape machine, but the Virtual Tape Machine gives me that warm, vintage 2-track vibe I love, especially with the half-inch setting. It adds the perfect low end without needing the real thing.
In-the-box tools have come a long way. It’s not 2006 anymore, where you’d spend $700 on a plugin and hope it works. These days, the quality is solid, and having access to top-tier plugins in both commercial studios and my home setup is a luxury. I can take all my mixes and plugins with me wherever I go.
For the purists out there: I get it, I was one too. But these tools sound incredible and work on everything. The saturation from the Virtual Mix Rack and Revival, combined with the Virtual Tape Machine, gives me the warmth and vibe I need, without the hassle of preamps or renting a tape machine. It’s all super convenient.
How do you avoid getting stuck in a cycle of overthinking and over-the-top processing chains?
For me, avoiding over-processing and option paralysis usually happens after I’ve already gone too far. I’ll listen back, bypass some plugins, and realize, “Oh, it sounds better without the 900 things I just added.” Luckily, I’ve gotten quicker at recognizing it now, but it’s part of the process.
The great thing about working with plugins is that you can always go back and undo things. You don’t have to commit until the final mix is sent off to mastering. It’s OK to realize after the fact that you overdid it. As long as your mic placement is solid from the start and you’re not wrecking the sound with excessive EQ or processing, you’re still in a good place.
Before I let you go, do you have any parting words of wisdom for people who are just entering the recording world?
If you can swing it, and if you have the time, go out and buy the book The Recording Studio Handbook by John M Warham. I would recommend any edition. I have one from 1976, I believe.
The information in there, written and logged by an actual, not just a recording engineer, but an actual electrical engineer who is a recording engineer and borderline acoustician, the information he has in there is incredible. This book helped me tremendously and helped me get to a place intellectually that opened doors for even more opportunities.
Don’t think that old information doesn’t apply because we’re in a more of a digital age. It absolutely does.
That’s excellent advice. Ok, final question: Is there anything you have coming up that you can preview for us?
All I’ll say is I’m working on some very exciting stuff from multiple angles, for multiple artists and producers. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to be a part of some amazing projects, and I’m really grateful for the opportunities I’ve had. This is such an exciting time in my life and career, and it just keeps getting better.
As long as I stay focused, have the right tools, and make sure they’re working properly, everything should keep going incredibly well.
