John Lennon Sang "Out" AND "In..."

I'm a peacenik by nature, though competitive through and through. I also believe in the fraternity of musicians. What I mean is, when you look at the total population of the world, then take out the group that plays music, then take out the group that plays music well, then take out the group that plays music well for money - that's a pretty small percentage. So, my feeling is we need to stick together, vibe off and learn from one another and support each other.

I know a lot of musicians, and most of them are unbelievably cool and generous with themselves and what they can do on a stage. Knowing a range of musicians keeps what I'm able to do in perspective. Confidence leads to a good show and keeps the band tight. Arrogance leads to fewer gigs, fewer friends and a wide range of problems. So, I enjoy chilling with great musicians who are great people, because I can learn from them, and vice versa. Also - you don't need to strut around with your pelvis acting like a divining rod when you work hard. The music and performance do all the talking.

Having said that, I'll say this: it ain't cool when a band "stares down" or tries to intimidate another band. You do your thing, we do ours - why not leave it at that? We're not rock stars - none of us. We're working musicians. Why not just celebrate that? Take comfort in the fraternity of musicians, and leave the posturing at home. It's stupid and makes you and your band look like a bunch of wannabes who couldn't make the cut - and now stand outside the gate and mock everybody else who did. If you're unhappy that you didn't get the work, or the gig, do something about it. Get better. Do some homework - see what songs work and what songs don't. Ask the booking agents and club owners which bands are getting work, and why. Rehearse more. Quit blaming other bands. Stop thinking like you're entitled because you figured out three chords.

Stan Lee, Marvel Comics' mastermind, once wrote: "Whoever you are, there's always somebody better." Which brings this to mind:

"...and as the song trailed out, I noticed a zebra. It had a broken leg, and was trying to stay up with the rest of the herd. You would think an incapacitated zebra would run for cover...to hide, perhaps. But no - this zebra turned and stared at the lions, daring them to attack. The lions watched the crippled zebra with an almost bemused detachment. Suddenly, the natural order of life burned hot. Guitar growling, sticks clicking, and 'Right Here, Right Now' tore through the jungle - cutting the zebra's head clean off.

"The moral of THIS story? Don't f^@% with the food chain.

"Sincerely, Marlon Perkins."

The Brother (and Sister) Hood of Musicians and Staff

There's no doubt that playing music for four hours a night - on average - is difficult work. You push your physical, mental, emotional and creative limits - while keeping the crowd interested, excited and entertained. Still, if you do it right it's pretty cool. You end up with a full tip jar, a gracious and thankful club owner/corporate event planner and the ultimate high - a night of creating great music with other musicians.

So, we get the applause, the accolades, the money, etc. But you know who REALLY deserves a pat on the back? The people working for you non-stop, all night - the staff of the club/restaurant/hotel.

Sometimes, we're all too deep in our own heads to see how hard the waiter/waitress/bartender is working. I'm proud to say I've never fallen into that trap - at 15 I was a busboy, a thankless job if there ever was one - so I know how hard these people work. So, in my band, I've asked - scratch that, DEMANDED - that the musicians who play with me never disparage the support staff. I make sure to shout out, multiple times per set, to take care of these people with tips - or just be nice to them.

Here's how a typical evening goes at a club for these fine people: they don't get breaks, especially if the club is pumping. They're on their feet ALL NIGHT LONG. Hell, even musicians get a 15-minute break every hour.They deal, up close and personal, with clients who sometimes drink too much and become obnoxious. They drag heavy trays full of beers, drinks appetizers, etc., through a crowded sea of humanity - and do it without spilling a drop. They have to move, FAST, because you want that drink RIGHT NOW...and everybody else does, too. Meanwhile, your bartender has to have an encyclopedic knowledge of every drink known to man. He or she has to mix your drinks fast and clean while also serving as your spiritual guide, shrink, conscience and best friend.

I've been fortunate enough to make good, solid friendships with a few waiters/waitresses, bartenders, cooks, etc. at some of the clubs on rotation for my band. These people are just downright COOL. They get it - smile whether you want to or not. Work hard, deliver the goods, smile some more, keep walking even though your legs and knees feel like they're made of glass shards and splinters and then smile again. So, in many ways I feel a real kinship with the support staff. I mean, we're both being paid by the same people. We're both providing service to people who need things.

Finally, my motivation for this blog came from something that happened two weeks ago. I was out to dinner with a friend, and this wonderful woman - who, week in and out, sells flowers to the patrons at every club I perform at - came into the area where we were eating. I gave her a hug, she gave me a big smile. I asked her if she was moving lots of "buds," and she laughed and told me friend "he is the NICEST guy." After she left, my friend said "this isn't the first time someone working at a club has told me how nice you are."

I didn't tell you that to make me look great, or like some kind of saint. I told you that because these people work HARDER than most of us ever will, and it doesn't take much to make them feel good. Take care of them - tip them a bit extra, tell them something nice, find out their first names and USE them. Be kind to them. Appreciate what they're doing, and the circumstances in which they're doing it.

It'll come back to you tenfold, and - believe me - it'll stay with them for a long, long time.

Went Off to the Field With a Missionary's Zeal...

New year, fresh changes, but same old crappy knees! Welcome to the life of my cover band - this time, in glorious 2009 technicolor.

First off, I'd be remiss if I didn't say something about the new administration, and my excitement about the winds of change. I won't get political here - but I WILL say we've witnessed history on so many different levels, my head's spinning. Here's to an extended - oh, I don't know, maybe eight year long - honeymoon period. Oh - and God bless America.

Personnel changes in my band as well, with a new bass player bringing a different sound and fresh approach to the music. This is part of the 'biz - cover bands are amazingly organic things. Trust me - this isn't an earth-shattering event. Players come, players go, and that's just the way it is. Besides, one thing you learn VERY early on - it's not the coming and going that's wonky. It's the wake left behind after the departure. Depending on temperment, players either get it or they don't. Anyway, ask a good cover band musician how many bands he's played in, and he'll probably laugh, roll his eyes and move on to the next gig. So, we've made a change and it's going to work out wonderfully. Then, a few years down the road, things'll change again. That's just what a cover band is, my friends.

One more thing about the above-paragraph: new players really do bring a new approach to the music, and it's nice to be kept on your toes. Lethargy in music is death, and lethargy is amplified in a cover band. Normally, you're playing about 80% of the same songs every week, so you'd better find a way to challenge yourself. Remember - those of you who feel it's time to change bands, but don't have the nerve to do it..? Do it. You'll become a far better, much more well rounded musician, and I guarantee you'll develop a stronger musical vocabulary.

So, even in this down economy - I've had two cancellations on some pretty hefty gigs because the companies are cutting down the spending - I'm really looking forward to '09. Yes, my knees still sound like Rice Krispies the day after a gig. Yes, the amount of work I do hasn't yet been equalled by the benefits of the work (in the land of cubicles they call this - gack - "ROI"). No, it isn't always easy to get across to the crowd. Yes, my gear needs constant tweaking and tuning. But we ARE working every weekend, and with a handful of new clubs on the calendar I feel fortunate and blessed to be doing what I'm doing.

Playing cover music - for money? Preach it, brother.