Why I Don’t Use Autotune

On Choice, Taste, and Intention

Some people make a big deal about autotune — either passionately defending it or fiercely criticizing it. I don’t really fall into either camp. For me, it’s not a debate, not an ideology, not even a judgment on anyone who uses it. To me it is an effect, and like any effect can lose its appeal when overused.

People sometimes assume my harmonies are autotuned. And while I appreciate the compliment, I also quietly hope discerning listeners know it’s really me — stacking parts the old-fashioned way. Listen carefully and you’ll notice.

This is simply a personal choice.

I don’t use autotune.
And I never will.

And here’s why.

Why Autotune Breaks the Connection for Me

Let me start with the most important part:
I don’t think less of artists who uses autotune. Music is expression. Tools are tools. People should create however they feel most inspired.

But for me — personally — autotune feels like a layer between me and the listener. Something about it gets in the way of the connection I’m trying to create. A lot of modern production leans toward perfection, and for me that sometimes costs a sense of humanity.

And connection is the whole reason I make music in the first place.

I Like the Human Parts Too Much

Every singer has little quirks — the wobble in a sustained note, the breath that sneaks in early, the crack that slips through when a lyric hits just right. Those moments aren’t mistakes to me. They’re the fingerprints of the performance.

Think about the Beatles. Their harmonies weren’t flawless in the technical sense — they were alive. The tiny shifts in pitch between John, Paul, and George are part of what made their blend feel so human and unrepeatable. If you autotuned those recordings today, they’d lose a certain magic and become something more plastic, less real. They didn’t need any correction tools — their voices simply fit in a way that felt human and electric. That’s the kind of authenticity that inspires me.

I never want to smooth out the moments that give a performance its soul.

And while it can sound great in modern production, that’s not the world I want to live in musically.

Imperfection Is Part of My Musical Identity

When I perform live, there’s no filter. No tuning, no correction, no safety net — just me doing the best I can in that moment.

That’s what I want my recordings to sound like too.

I want someone who hears me at a gig and someone who hears me on an album to feel like they’re listening to the same person. Not a perfected studio version.

If a note leans sharp or dips flat for a millisecond, that’s part of the expression. There’s even a possibility that I did it on purpose, as a choice of expression.

I do not want to iron out the humanity.

It Keeps Me Honest

When you know you won’t fix it later, you show up differently.

You push yourself.
You practice more intentionally.
You live inside the performance instead of relying on the safety net.

For me, “no autotune” isn’t a limitation — it’s a commitment. It keeps me present. It keeps me accountable to the craft. I’d rather give you my real voice — with all its texture and humanity.

And on a personal level, using autotune would make me feel like I was faking it. I don’t mean that as a criticism of anyone else — this is just how I’m wired. If I know something is correcting me in the background, the performance stops feeling honest.

A Promise I Can Make Out Loud

So here’s my quiet little promise:

I will never use autotune.

Not because I’m anti-technology.
Not because I think I’m above anything.

Simply because the voice I have — the one that has grown with me, cracked with me, changed with me — is the voice I want people to hear.

I want the recordings and performances to feel lived-in. Human. Real.
And that means leaving the imperfections exactly where they belong.

If You’ve Ever Connected With My Music… Thank You

If you’ve listened to my songs, or heard me live, or supported me in any way — thank you. This choice is part of how I stay true to the kind of musician I want to be, and the kind of experience I want to offer.

And if you’re new to my music, welcome.
What you hear is what you get — always.