Feedback during the set feels random. It isn’t. Every room and every wedge has the same handful of frequencies waiting to take off, and they’re findable on a Tuesday when nobody’s watching.
The routine: one open mic at the vocal position, monitor up slowly until the first ring appears. Find that frequency on the EQ, pull it a few dB — not a crater, a trim. Bring the level up again. Second ring, same treatment. Two or three passes and you’ve bought yourself real gain before feedback, calmly, with coffee in hand.
Why alone matters: ringing out with a band on stage means hunting a squeal while eight people wince at you. Doing it empty means the dangerous frequencies are already handled before a musician ever asks for “more me.” The request that used to be a risk becomes a fader move.
The restraint clause: every cut costs tone. If you’ve notched more than three or four spots, the problem isn’t EQ anymore — it’s mic choice, wedge placement, or a singer cupping the capsule. Fix the physics before you keep carving the sound.
Feedback isn’t bad luck. It’s a to-do list you haven’t done yet.
