From Bath to Cannes: How My Music Made Its Way to the Cinema
In September 2022, I made the difficult decision to resign from a stable job role for a major broadcaster—a necessary step for my mental health, though ironically, it sent me spiralling the following year.
What followed was chaos: the job offer I had lined up was withdrawn due to the emerging financial crisis, which led to a move to Harehills, Leeds—one of the roughest areas in the country. At the same time, my once-promising relationship fizzled out through a turbulent, drawn-out process. Emotionally distraught, I returned to my family in the South of England, only to immediately find myself supporting my mother in providing palliative care for my grandfather at his home, right up until the moment of his death.
Just days after leaving the funeral, I received an email from a Warner Bros. director inviting me to visit their post-production house in Soho, London. I had sent a speculative email the previous year in hopes of transitioning my knowledge of media production to the sound stage. He sat me down in the office, and after discussing my ambitions as a film music composer and sound re-recording mixer, he offered me the opportunity to join the team as a Runner—a traditional rite of passage in the industry.
It was an exhilarating experience—I had the opportunity to support Oscar-winning sound engineers during the sound mixing sessions for Wonka, Baby Reindeer, Garfield, and House of the Dragon, to name a few. Behind the Avid S6 mixing console, and at the very table shown in the picture below, I learned the craft from the seniors– Ron Bartlett (Dune/Blade Runner), Chris Burdon (Top Gun: Maverick), and Nick Roberts (The Predator/Barbie), while sitting alongside some of Hollywood's biggest directors.
Warner Bros. De Lane Lea, Soho, London, United Kingdom.
A few months later, December arrived, and I learned that grief wasn’t done with me yet. On my way back from our Christmas party, my father called to tell me that my paternal grandfather was in his final days. I immediately packed my bags in North London, traveled to Birmingham, and sat with him in the hospital until his final breath. I felt truly trapped in a cycle of bad luck– at such a relentless rate that I began to fear that I might be next. I was emotionally burned out. There seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel.
The only thing that I could consistently cling to was my own music. Daily check-ins with my then-manager gave me hope that opportunities were on the horizon, but in reality, I was being held back. My creativity became mechanical; music felt lifeless, and I burned out so badly from both the grief and pressure of working towards “success” as an artist that I developed an immune disorder. My fear was manifesting.
I had only one project left to keep me afloat: BOUND. My dear collaborator from my previous job, Abi Porter—an editor I collaborated with during my Assistant Producer role at the broadcaster—had started the short film as a student project, but it had been shelved due to the lockdown. Abi kindly invited me to write the score for the project. Having the opportunity gave me a sense of purpose and focus—something to hold onto when everything else seemed to be literally falling apart.
In my eyes, BOUND was a piece of art. Through the lens of 2010s Britain, Abi captured the emotional push and pull of Mara’s vulnerability in her relationship with depth. Mara—played by the wonderful actor Phoebe Horn—reminded me of a girl I grew up with down the road. There was something familiar about her struggles, social circle and quiet strength. Because of this, I was able to approach the opening composition with a sense of familiarity with memories of my early-noughties upbringing in Odd Down, Bath, paired with my adolescence in Bristol to musically allude to the melancholic, british atmosphere throughout the film.
It’s October 2024. As with most people in their late twenties, the past week has been filled with self-reflection. Haunted by the fear of slipping back into the hell of last year, I even started considering a career change into counseling—before realising that I was the one who needed help. Just as I was on the verge of giving up on music altogether, I got the news from Abi:
“BOUND has been selected for the Cannes Short Film Awards!”
From the very project that had held me together, I was inadvertently reignited with the dream I had been searching for all along—from my days at the broadcaster to the sound stage. My music has finally made its way to the big screen.
This past week has been a reminder of why I chose this path in the first place. The road of music is tough, filled with moments of extreme highs and crushing lows. But the highs—like this—make every bit of the struggle worth it.
I’m flying out next month to Cannes. It’ll be my first time in France, and I’m content with a renewed ambition for my music—a reminder of why I’m in it. Upon my return—working on more film scores, completing my second album, and finishing a master’s degree. But regardless of where I end up, I truly look forward to staying on the very path that, like many of us, are so often deterred from fully embracing.
"With his innate ability to capture the essence of emotions through music, Sterling brings an undeniable depth to the film's atmosphere. His evocative compositions enrich the storytelling, amplifying the narrative's impact. His skills as a composer make him invaluable as a collaborator, contributing to the overall artistic vision of the project."
– Abigail Feavers, Channel 4.
