Done well, unplugged worship can feel refreshing. Done poorly, it can feel thin, awkward and under-rehearsed.
Does anybody remember when churches started implementing the djembe into acoustic worship, or “unplugged” sets? As an audio engineer, I remember the effort. The results were pretty forgettable. More on that almost unplayable percussion instrument later.
You’ve heard the old saying, “when everything is big, nothing is.” Week after week, we push our worship and production teams to do more and more. At some point, the only way to create a standout moment is to intentionally make it smaller. And so the “unplugged” worship set was born.
The idea of an unplugged worship set sounds great. Intimate. Less formal. A chance to strip away the extraneous, sometimes distracting production elements and clear the way for a quiet, meaningful encounter with God.
“Just a few acoustic instruments” can quickly become one of the most complicated setups of the month.
Now, if you’re reading this and you’re even remotely church production savvy, you already know that in any worship auditorium, everything is de facto plugged in. Acoustic instruments have pickups or are mic’d. Vocal mics, wireless or otherwise, are going through the PA. The piano is mic’d, or it’s actually an electronic keyboard housed in an antique-style piano shell (you’re not fooling anybody).
We all know everything is technically plugged in. So for the sake of this discussion, when I say “unplugged,” I’m talking about the general style and approach that is admittedly somewhat of an illusion.
Then and now, conversations usually start with some version of, “Let’s do something different.”
Sometimes the idea of going “unplugged” is pitched as a nice break from the weekly grind, or following a particularly production-heavy season like Christmas or Easter. Inevitably, it comes as a well-meaning, if naive, suggestion from leadership: “Something chill. Just a few acoustic guitars, three or four vocals, a cello, a violin, stand-up bass, a grand piano, and some hand percussion.”
Very simple and easy...
Wait. Did you just say all that was easy?
Let’s not confuse our adjectives or our objectives here. Different and easy are not the same thing.
I would argue, as would anyone who has had to strike a drum set, repatch a new set of audio channels, mic a string section, provide monitoring for them, switch from electric bass to a stand-up bass that may or may not have a pickup, provide wireless mics and IEMs for musicians not used to using them, and make it all sound nice and full, that it is anything but easy.
Add the visual side, lighting, stage placement, and cameras, and now your typical weekly setup has become its own production project.
It takes a lot of work to make it look like you didn’t do a lot of work.
My advice to leadership
For those not involved in the day-to-day work of worship and production, understand that your production team’s goal is usually to find a path to yes. They probably won’t complain or push back on the “unplugged” vision. They will salute and run up the hill to see what the gunfire is all about.
They may not say it, but I will. And this is coming from someone who has done a ton of these and actually likes them. Let’s be clear. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t simple. So approach this with some grace and understand that if the team is going to pull this off well, it is not a chill week by any stretch.
Why the djembe failed us and guitarists shouldn’t play the banjo
A ukulele is not just a small guitar. It’s a different instrument. A stand-up bass is not just a fat, hollow-bodied fretless bass guitar. An experienced bass player can play a stand-up bass to some degree. A competent guitarist can probably fake their way through a song on almost any stringed instrument without embarrassing themselves. But neither one is going to get the most out of a non-native instrument without actually spending time with it.
That’s why the djembe was such a poor substitute for worship drummers to try and make sense of. I’m not blaming the drummers. “Let’s take away your normal full drum set and give you one oddly shaped thingy to play instead.” That was doomed from the start.
As a former drummer myself, I am keenly aware of my lack of hand percussion skills on a djembe, or really any other non-traditional drum set substitute. In fact, when I was recording studio albums, we brought in professional percussionists for the auxiliary percussion parts. Sure, I could play a consistent pattern on congas, but not at the level of someone who specializes in that world.
Today, we have a more useful and easier-to-play facsimile of a drum set in the cajon. But it is still a long way from a five-piece drum kit.
I say this because it is a big expectation to assume a typical worship drummer can easily adapt to a totally different type of instrument, accommodate an unplugged worship set, and make it sound intentional.
In some cases, a smaller drum kit, such as Parish Drums, may be more sonically and visually aligned with an unplugged worship presentation. But your drummer cannot simply swap out a full kit for a smaller kit, hot rods, brushes, or a cajon and play the same parts.
You can’t drive a motorcycle the same way you drive a car
This concept applies to everyone on the platform. Each musician has to work out their parts to fit into the whole of the unplugged experience. Each player needs to be aware of how their part fits with the rest of the arrangement. They cannot just play the same way on a different instrument.
Some players will need to exercise more restraint. Others may get to cover ground they normally don’t. A pianist, for example, may need to provide more low-end, left-hand support in an unplugged set, even though that same approach might be discouraged or high-passed on a typical Sunday.
I’m not saying you need to hire outside specialized instrumentalists. But I am saying each player needs to be intentional about how they execute their parts when playing instruments that may be similar, but not exactly native to them. As a musician, I’d rather hear you working hard to figure it out, and dare I say, fake it to fit, than hear you dogmatically play as if the only difference is the instrument you’ve been asked to use temporarily.
Well that was underwhelming
There are a few factors that get missed when doing an unplugged set. Put yourself in the seat of your normal congregant or regular attender. If you do your job well, they are used to a nice, full-bodied mix that fills the room. As I like to say, “big but not loud.”
A lot of churches miss the “big” part. In the pursuit of the acoustic chill vibe, they neglect the foundational support. Full bass. Enough low-end energy to fill the space.
I once worked with a church that wanted to go fully acoustic. No drum kit. Just some basic hand percussion. The sound was anemic. Once we added a small kick drum, the whole thing worked better. There was a pulse and depth. If your congregation is accustomed to a full-band sound, don’t be afraid to keep some form of kick in the mix. Not full-on, slap-you-in-the-chest kick, just enough to move some air in the environment and create some feel.
It’s all about that bass
An unplugged set without a designated bass instrument might work, but it is a risk. Bass, more specifically low-end content, provides the foundation needed to support the more open, airy feel we’re seeking in an intimate set. An upright bass can work. An acoustic bass can work. A regular electric bass played with the right touch can work too.
If percussion and bass are not part of the set, consider reassigning the lower frequencies. On a normal full-band Sunday, I typically don’t let the piano dip too far into the low frequencies because it can interfere with bass guitar and kick drum. But when the kick and bass are gone, opening up the low end of the piano into the subs can help fill in some of those gaps.
The same goes for acoustic guitars. In a normal full-band mix, they may be high-passed pretty aggressively. In an unplugged set, they may need a little more body and can be fed gently into the subs to help support the arrangement.
Mellow doesn’t have to also be slow
A click is a staple in most modern worship sets. It keeps everyone tight and on time. There is often an assumption that since the set is “unplugged,” the click is no longer necessary. That might work. It might also turn a slow worship song into a funeral dirge by the second verse. It’s a natural tendency for musicians to slow down during reflective songs.
With fewer instruments filling out the sound, timing mistakes become more noticeable. The click can serve as a subtle safety net, especially if rehearsal time is limited or if the musicians are not used to playing this way.
The click may need adjusting. Keep it light and subtle. Just enough to guide without feeling rigid. Depending on the tempo, quarter notes may be better than eighths. A lighter click can help the musicians stay together without making the set feel stiff.
Believe it or not, an intimate unplugged worship experience can be quickly ruined by click and guide bleed from singers’ in-ear monitors. In softer songs, the stage is quieter, and vocal mics can easily pick up bleed from a singer’s IEMs, especially in the broadcast mix.
This often comes from a common offense I’ve addressed before: a singer using only one IEM while the other dangles fashionably, Bono-style, on their chest with a loud click well within pickup range of the vocal mic.
If a singer insists on going with one ear, ask them to drop the unused IEM over their shoulder and onto their back, away from the vocal mic. It’s a simple adjustment that can go a long way in preserving the unplugged mix.
You don’t have to abandon tracks
I’ve written extensively on tracks in worship, specifically about curating what comes through the system and what should remain muted. The same principle applies here in spades. Again, just because we’re “unplugged” is not an excuse for a weak, anemic mix.
Carefully selected tracks can help fill out the mix. If you don’t want to put a kick drum on stage, a subtle kick and light percussion from the tracks can add that support. Pads and other atmospheric-type effects can help add depth and width if that’s missing from your onstage instrumentation.
An unplugged worship set can be a great change of pace, but it needs to be treated like an actual production decision, not a lighter week for everyone involved.
Leadership should understand that making something look simple takes planning, setup, rehearsal, and a lot of grace for the people being asked to pull it off.
Musicians need to understand that just because the song is the same, that doesn’t mean their part stays the same. The unplugged version needs to be executed as its own arrangement.
The audio team still needs to manage the technology carefully. Tracks, click, IEMs, low-end support, and even a little extra bass extension can help the mix feel full and keep the congregation engaged without sheer volume.
Done well, unplugged worship can be a refreshing alternative to the typical Sunday. Done poorly, it can feel thin, awkward, and under-rehearsed.
So plan it, rehearse it, support it, and most of all, don’t forget to listen.

