The Fine Line

Ah, here's the question to end all questions if you front a band: where do you rights as a singer - and the crowd's rights to be a part of the show - begin and end?

Singing in a band means you've got to connect with the audience. If not - if you don't excite them, get them happy, or crazy, or melancholy - you won't have the gig for very long. Normally, if you're dedicated to what you're doing, connecting to the audience is fairly simple. The crowd already had built-in memories for the songs, and most times we're talking about DECADES worth of music and memories. Being sincere gets you there, and it's a really great feeling connecting with people who - generally - you don't know.

...and that's where the problems begin.

Now, I normally enjoy it when people coming up to me in mid-song to sing along, or play tamborine, or just hang with the band. After all, if it wasn't for the client, I wouldn't be there. Still, there's something about trying to keep my personal space - aka the stage, my work area - relatively open. On stage, I move a lot, swing my arms, my mic stand, throw the tamborine in the air, etc. If nothing else, I don't want to hurt anyone with an inadvertent elbow to the kidney.

Most people understand this, and I do as well - so when I invite someone on stage, I know this person is in control of his or her faculties. However, when the hootch is calling the shots, people come up and start doing things that - well, aren't too smart. I've had people try to pull the mic out of my hands, bash into my mic stand (which, in turn, causes my mic to smash me in the mouth), start having a conversation with me - while I'm in the middle of singing a verse! - etc.

Does it ever get dangerous? Well, not life-threatening or anything like that, but when a person is completely incapacitated, and he or she is trying to walk around all the gear, cables, mic cords, etc. - yeah, I'd say that's an accident just waiting to happen.

So, you can see where that fine line between entertainers and entertainees sits. I guess this is one of the reasons I normally go out TO the crowd. I'm committed to tearing down that "I'm the band and you're forced to listen" wall between musician and listener, so when I'm out there with them they become a part of our music making.

And I always want the crowd to remember that. I'm no different than they are...but sometimes, I just need a little space to prove it.

The Science of Peeking

Man - there are a LOT of good cover bands out there.

Yeah, there's a ton of terrible ones, but there's a gob of really good ones. When I find the rare few minutes to actually do some research on the 'net, I like to snoop around the websites of working bands like mine. I download the MP3s, watch the MySpace/You Tube videos, read the bios and check the play lists. Putting all of that together helps me understand the general personality of the band, what their goals are and how they see their role as entertainers. It also helps me understand the market and our competition (though, to tell the truth, most of the good, working bands are pretty friendly with one another. It falls under my "very exclusive club" rule. I have some terrific friends in a number of bands, and I know a member or two of my band has the same).

So, much like I do for tracking down good songs to play (more on that tomorrow), I cross reference the good bands and check for patterns or similarities. Is there one or two things across the board that make a band good? Unsurprisingly, the ones who sound the best and who get the good jobs have loads of things in common:

• Corporate/casual bands look corporatey. Again, as mentioned in my last blog, having a look doesn't mean wearing matching jumpsuits. Still, we live in a visual age - and as much as the rebel and artist in me doesn't dig it, the corporate musician and businessman does. Now, if the band is an 80s hair metal tribute, we know what the look should be. Same with a southern-rock band, etc. However, for a general cover band, playing a wide range of songs, it goes without saying that being groomed, looking clean and wearing clothes that are sharp or hip is vital to getting better gigs. Yes, folks, it's about the music, but it's about the eye candy, too.
• The players rarely make mistakes. I've gone to a club to watch some of the good bands - and subbed in quite a few - and I can tell you the pros are solid, week in and out. Think about it - a cover band plays a large part of its repertoire every week, so if nothing else redundancy should eliminate the mistakes. And, although I've played in many bands and the attitude is "well, the crowd didn't notice it," I don't buy that. Maybe not at a CONSCIOUS level, but - normally - the crowd is more astute than that. A listener might think the band sounded better "last week" on a particular song when, in fact, the playing was identical except for a few well-placed errors.
• The members are social with the crowd and the client. People want to know you're interested in what they have to say. Clients want to know you respect them enough to do the things they ask - even if it's five minutes before downbeat. Don't bitch about the trouble to make it happen - just make it happen.
• There is no drama, fighting, power struggles or passive aggressiveness on stage. The crowd and the client don't think you're cool, or funny, or edgy/sarcastic if you mumble "fu&%ing great" under your breath but in the mic. They just think you're unprofessional. Save the BS for breaks, and do it outside of client/crowd earshot.
  
• Playing the correct songs - no way to skimp here. My last post, and a few before it, talk about this in great detail. Quit snivelling that "YMCA" is beneath your artistic standing - if it is, quit the cover band and go make great art. Otherwise, play for the crowd - not TO them.
• I'm thoroughly convinced having a female player helps - a lot. I've tried two female players in this band, but for various reasons neither worked out. Still, having a female vocalist who doubles on an instrument REALLY increases a band's song repertoire - and visual appeal, as well.

So, those are the results of some peeking at other bands. If they're all doing this, and they're all successful - it's hard to argue their merits.

Eye of Newt, Toad's Heel And a Nice Chicken's Claw

OK - so, singing for four hours straight isn't the most natural thing in the world - especially when you're running around like Bobo the Circus Chimp, jumping up and down, running around the club/hall and generally snapping your body side to side because it looks cool. I'm telling you, the throat takes a pounding - and the occasional adult libation (aka Crown on the rocks) certainly doesn't help matters.

But, in a cover band, that's what a singer does for two or three nights in a row. For me, it becomes even nuttier because the range of stuff we do - from Sinatra to Marvin to Def Leppard - means my vocal box gets battered around like martini mix in a shaker. Sing LOW. Sing REALLY HIGH. Sing "Sweet Caroline." Sing "Any Way You Want It." AGH!

So for singers, it's often difficult to be 100% night in and out. If a guitar player gets the flu or a sinus infection, it normally doesn't affect his playing. But ask ANY singer about sinus, throat, flu or lung issues - and man, we'll cry you a river right then and there. Unfortunately for us, our instrument is completely organic, and we can't pull it out, tweak it, put a new battery in it and place it back where it came from.

I've taken to trying various home remedies to get the ol' moneymaker back in fighting form before the next gig. It's funny - I've spoken to doctors, voice teachers, other singers and consulted the internet, and it seems NONE of them agree on what works best. The one thing they DO agree on is drinking room-temp water is a must - before, during and after the gig. This I do, religiously.

I also do something else that works pretty well for me during a gig I chew a piece of gum and suck on a throat lozenge. Yep - I do both WHILE singing! It's kinda hilarious, and there've been times I've accidently swallowed the gum or lozenge - or both! - but it really helps. The lozenge soothes the throat while the gum causes me to swallow, keeping the throat "wet." Plus, I have nice breath during breaks - now THAT'S a value add!

The next day, I've got a routine that REALLY works great for getting rid of "Joe Cocker" throat:

• I keep loud speaking to an ABSOLUTE minimum. I never push the voice too much after a gig and before another.
• I'm sipping water all day - ALWAYS at room temp, never cold.
• Around noon, I make a hot cup of this great throat tea I picked up at Henry's Market. I put a gob of honey and lemon in it, then drink it down.
• I follow that with water.
• About two hours before showtime, I drink another cup of the aforementioned tea, honey and lemon concoction.
• Finally, I go off by myself and warm up before the show - by talking, then singing vowel sounds at low and then high keys.

Believe me when I say getting your throat ready to go after a demanding show isn't easy - you can't shake a blessed rainstick, recite some ancient hoodoo and hope the notes are there. However, what I listed above is what works for me, and keeps me in strong voice no matter how many nights I'm yelling at the top of my lungs while swinging from the rafters.