Edith, you’ve had quite a journey in the music industry. Can you take us back to when you first started composing music? What was it that initially sparked your passion for this craft?

I’ve loved music for as long as I can remember. My mom taught (and still teaches) aerobics, so I was heavily influenced by 80s dance beats from the time I was in the womb. I never heard my parents describe themselves as musical, but as a child, I’d fall asleep to my dad writing songs on the guitar, or my mom at the piano singing Carole King, or the boom box playing Paul Winter’s Wintersong. Music lit up my imagination, and I always wanted to be part of it. We had an upright piano in the house, and, frustrated, I started slapping the keys and begging for lessons around age 3 or 4. I started lessons at 5, and I wrote my first piece when I was 9. I had excellent, generous music teachers who went out of their way to offer me opportunities to learn and build my confidence–I was very privileged in that way, and I cherish those memories. It was never a question to me that I’d keep studying music and turn it into a career, but when I found myself out of college and looking for jobs, I didn’t really know where to look. I became interested in orchestration, since I’d spent countless formative hours writing a cappella arrangements in Sibelius, and realized Los Angeles was the place to go to learn more. Turns out, there’s a whole film music industry here! Sometimes I have imposter syndrome over the fact that I didn’t grow up listening to film scores or perfecting an instrument, but I’ve found my place here.

With over 3000 episodes of series and films under your belt, your work spans a vast range of genres and styles. How do you feel your early experiences—like your rigorous training at Remote Control Productions and Jingle Punks—shaped the kind of composer you are today?

These experiences have been invaluable to me! In fact, when I started at RCP, I had no intention of becoming a composer. I felt extremely unconfident with music technology, and disinterested in learning – every time I’d tried, I’d ended up feeling like an incompetent idiot. I just figured that composing wasn’t for me, since I was hopeless in DAWs. I knew and loved Sibelius, so I intended to build my full career in it (as an orchestrator). I interned at RCP to network, then got hired as a runner, then worked at the reception desk, where I got to know just about everyone–and suddenly, people started asking if I wanted to help, and I said yes, and they just taught me what to do! I probably learned how to use 10-15 different rigs in those years, and I loved it. After years of feeling clueless, I had a strong community of people who were invested in helping me understand. It was truly intoxicating. I’m still endlessly grateful to everyone there who spent the time to teach me the tech. The pace was rapid, the expectations were high, and for my 20s, it was perfect–I thought of it like grad school. I wasn’t making a lot of money, but I was learning a lot and building a strong foundation.  

Jingle Punks worked my creative muscles in a different way. I was challenged to write 3 tracks per day, in all different styles (many of which I’d never touched)–but the education was much more self-directed. Some of my tracks in that library are never going to be used. I had to learn to be resourceful, efficient, disciplined, and openly collaborative. I also had to learn how to write in genres I’d never considered (see: the week that I, a non-guitarist, was assigned all Jimi Hendrix soundalikes). Working in both of these places, I made longtime friends and collaborators, and learned to ask questions, even when it’s vulnerable. I also learned a lot about balance, which has become very important to me. As much as I love music, I need to make room for other aspects of my life, too. Being kind and generous to myself allows me to make better music–but sometimes, when it feels right, throwing myself into the fire is a good experience too. I’m a much more versatile composer for having worked in both of those places.

Having studied at Skidmore College and trained under some of the best in the industry, you’ve clearly been surrounded by a blend of different musical influences. Do you find that your background in classical training influences your work, especially when you blend genres like synth pop and choral music?

Very much so! I’m going through a counterpoint phase right now. I want to make counterpoint in every genre. But I’m hesitant to even define my background. I’m a big mishmash of influences and education–certainly a master of none. I did study classical music for much of my life, but it was never my main passion (though I do deeply love it). One thing I’ll say: most schools of thought think they’re the best. I remember reading Pitch Perfect: The Quest for Collegiate A Cappella Glory during my sophomore year of college and learning in the first few pages that a cappella singers are nerds, and a cappella groups are glorified cover bands. It’s totally true, but I had no idea. I thought a cappella was the coolest, most fun, most serious thing in the world. I’ve encountered a lot of judgment in musical circles towards one genre or another. I think there’s merit to all of the styles. I try my best not to judge. So maybe, by being passionate about a million types of music but not settling for one, I’m keeping each “it” crowd at an arm’s length and maintaining my love for the things I do love. In my experience, much of the LA film music community seems to be genuinely excited and curious about a multitude of genres–these are my people! Which is to say – inspiration pops up everywhere.

You’ve been part of such a diverse body of work, from the world of TV to podcasts and live theater. Is there a particular medium where you feel your music shines the most, or one that you feel particularly connected to?

The one I don’t do, of course! I’m terrified to write an album of pop-rock songs, but I’m dying to do it. I haven’t (at least since 2013) because it’s scary and vulnerable. But I really want to express myself in that way. It’s what I grew up listening to and it’s what’s closest to my heart.  I’ve had so much fun working in various media. The first time writing in any medium is always terrifying and unknown, but that’s what questions are for. I want to write more thriller, horror, and drama scores. I love exploring darkness and messy sounds. I’m also really excited to be working on more science content, since I am a science nerd. But I’ve ended up being proudest of the work I write for dark comedies and dramedies. It’s taxing to write, but I think it’s where I really shine. I’m depressed, I have ADHD, and the world is absurd. So I have an innate (and imperative) appreciation for dark humor that not everybody has. I’ll often listen back to my old tracks and cringe, but when I listen back to the comedic cues that I had to pull out of being like an old tooth, I still think they hold up. They make me laugh, at least.

As someone who’s worked closely with A-list composers and in-house teams at major music production companies, how has collaborating with others shaped your own creative process? How do you find balance between your own vision and the collaborative nature of these projects?

Gosh, it’s always a balance! But it makes it easier when I understand that most of these projects are not my projects. I’m proud to be involved, and I always want to do my best, but the fact is, I’m being hired to do a job. It’s a creative job where I have to be myself to do it well, but in the end, my vision isn’t the most important one. Once you’re able to ground yourself in that–which can take practice on a million levels–things go much more smoothly. That being said, I’ve come to understand that composing jobs can come at an emotional cost for me. Even well-paid jobs with wonderful people can be difficult and humbling. That’s why I’ve started leaning on orchestration and music editing as well as composing. I get variety and a little more emotional stability from these, so all my eggs aren’t in the same basket as my ego. 

When it comes to balancing vision and collaboration, the most important things that come to mind are to listen and ask questions (and of course, the degree to which I do any of these will depend greatly on the situation). Does this person want input? Do they already have expertise? Are they doing things this way for a reason that’s bigger than the music? Have they asked for my opinion? If I have a strong opinion or concern and I’m unsure where I stand, I’ll ask if they want my opinion, or whether I can express a concern. Over time, as I get to know people better, I have a sense of which clients want opinions/expertise and which ones want more quiet support. Truly, they’re both valid. And it’s okay for it to be hard! Practice helps. Exercise helps. Friends help. Doing non-work music from a place of passion helps.

Your background in orchestration and your experience in multiple roles within music production has undoubtedly given you a comprehensive toolkit. What’s one of the most unexpected skills or lessons you’ve picked up along the way that has helped your composing career?

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: ask questions! I thought I had to know everything, but no one expects that! An example: often, someone’s DAW will show the same error code every time they open a session. When I was first learning how to assist, this sort of thing would send me into a panic. What had I done?! How would I fix it?! I’d call the composer to confess, and they’d say, “Oh, that always happens,” and walk me through the specific steps to fix it on their rig. Every fix is different. Every rig is different. Every rig takes time to learn. The only person who knows the fix (from experience) is that composer. How on earth would I know, since it was my first time using that computer? I’m so glad I learned that lesson early so I could ask all my questions and learn tons of new skills. Along the way, this has also taught me that people love to feel smart. When you ask questions, you’re allowing them to feel knowledgeable and useful. It’s a win-win, and my (respectful, well-timed) curiosity has helped get my foot in the door.

Another lesson I’ve learned is to be thoughtful about what advice you take to heart. Everyone has a different path. The common wisdom of composing doesn’t apply to large chunks of my career. I have a career anyway. Be mindful of who is giving what advice, and how it makes you feel. If it makes you feel terrible, it’s probably not the right advice for you. That’s okay–there are multiple paths. 

You’ve worked in a variety of places—from New York City to Amman, Jordan, to residing currently in Los Angeles. What influence do you think living in such different places has had on your creative perspective, and does any location stand out as particularly inspiring to your music?

I deeply love NYC. I’m an introverted extrovert, or maybe an extroverted introvert – I’m not the most outgoing person, but I love being around people. For that reason, NYC is incredibly inspiring to me, and the two years I spent there are still ever-present in my mind. It was a difficult time in my life, yet it was easy to be creative, because something ludicrous was constantly happening within mere feet of me. I wish the city of New York and all of its infrastructure could be transplanted to southern California, but of course, without the communal suffering of winter, I don’t think the people of New York would be the same, and I love them just as they are, insanity and all.  

I do love Los Angeles, but I miss the constant bombardment of humanity. It’s nice to have a patio. I love the weather. I don’t think I could go back to New York winters or summers–I’m too soft. Humidity makes me faint now. But there’s less urgency here–more collaboration, more mentorship, more friendship. I think that suits my mental health better. But it’s easy to miss those manically creative (yet desperately depressed) years in New York where I felt so alive, yet so rejected, that I couldn’t not write. I don’t feel like that in LA, and, as annoyed as I am to say it, that’s a good thing–my nervous system is calmer here. Like everything else, I’m finding a balance, and it’s challenging, but that’s the beauty of life.

With so many projects under your belt which you’ve been a part of, are there any upcoming projects or collaborations you’re particularly excited about? What can we look forward to next?

I’m particularly excited to be composing music for two forthcoming documentaries for the explorer, writer, and filmmaker Ariel Waldman. We’ve had a really fruitful collaboration for the last few years, and her work is totally unique and fascinating. I’m very excited for everyone to see those. I have several other composition, music editorial, and orchestration projects in various states of production. I still have to pinch myself that I’m busy doing what I love, and I’m really proud to have found success in cultivating a variety of interests and professions in music. I also just finished my first semester teaching Advanced Orchestration at UCLA Extension, and I’m excited to continue teaching–the first quarter was very uncomfortable in a way that feels expansive and exciting! 

Interview by Alex Petkovski

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