I have a couple of thoughts on the subject.
There have certainly been a few times that I've lost a mix because my work, by comparison, was perceived to be softer than another mixer's work. Often throughout our careers we've learned object lessons when a choice is made to go with someone else, and I'd have to say that overall this system is not in and of itself not so bad.
In the mid 60's, for instance, those of us working in R&B were obliged to study the competition: Motown, Cameo-Parkway (whose catalog Bob Ludwig is currently remastering), Chess, Stax and a myriad other labels (yes, there was a time when the majors didn't dominate) defined the time. We were always trying to outdo someone else (Motown in particular was hard to match), but the process had a distinctly different feel to it. When records came to me, it was more, "hey, did you hear the new [x]??? Unbelievable sound!"
Now, Motown records were unique. There were exceptional...stunning in every possible way: the songs, the arrangements, the artists, the sound! It's like when a new phenom of a pitcher hits the majors with stuff that noone else can hit (Valenzuela's screwball in his rookie season comes to mind). And on top of everything else, Motown records were loud...they pretty much blew everything else off the turntable. Of course, it was a well-guarded secret how they did this - and only much later did we find out just how hard they worked to make 'em loud, pushing everything from people to cutters to the limit (and on occasion burning both out). But you would have to observe that there was no one major component to the success of Motown.
One of the biggest object lessons for us was the idea that changing musical arrangements could be very powerful in bringing ideas forward and making a sound forceful. Organizing (one wants to say managing?) a studio full of musicians isn't easy, and the job gets harder as the quality/experience of the musician gets better. It wasn't long before we learned that inspiration in the studio trumps directive most of the time (but not always).
Fast forward to the 80's and 90's and you have a business that's been thoroughly corrupted by a tidal wave of cash (from re-mastered CD's), and technological innovations that make it easier and cheaper to make something louder by pushbutton by fiat.
The only thing this button doesn't make is music.
From the perspective of 2004, the records that were thus hyped seem to have the worst chance of surviving to deep catalog status.
My question is: how many (and which) recordings in your collection do you keep coming back to? Do any of them represent that effort to make them...I want to say...artifically loud? Overuse of a Finalizer, perhaps?
George