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.

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.

A Cover Musician's Responsibility

Let me get this out of the way first:

MY DREAM BAND WOULD: Play the entire Sam Cooke, Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye, Sinatra and Beatles (including the solo stuff) catalogs. I'd have a really fat horn section, at least three backup singers and a true piano player - someone who could play Sinatra's "One for My Baby" without accompaniment, and we'd turn down the lights as I sang the ultimate closing song with nothing but the piano.

OK - now let's get real. Playing in a cover band means performing songs that aren't actually your favorites - and trust me when I say that's a NICE way of putting it. Not only that, songs you really DO love get a bit tired after playing them for 25 years.

But still, that's what the gig is. For me, I write and record original material at my home studio, and understand my responsibility as a cover band leader. It's like church and state - keep 'em apart, man.

It's like this: a cover band functions to play FOR people, not AT them. Too many cover musicians act like asshats when they're asked to perform a specific song for a specific crowd. Unfortunately, the battleground is often on stage, which is incredibly unprofessional. A cover musician GETS PAID TO PLAY SONGS THE CROWD/CLIENT WANTS TO HEAR.

Read after me - the sky is blue. Water is wet. Cover musicians play songs the crowd/client wants to hear. Why is that so difficult to understand? Why can't cover musicians realize that they're getting paid to play music - who cares if it's a cheesy pop song?

It's also a cover musician's responsibility to cater to the client - NOT the other way around. Some guys seem to think the client owes them something ("who's buying our beer? Why don't I get dinner?), when, in truth, we get paid to perform fun music with a smile on our faces. Most of the gigs I book for my band are pretty fat - normally the money is really good - so anything else is a blessing, NOT an expectation! If the client offers dinner, that's awesome - but I sure don't expect it. After all, I don't see the waiters getting their meals provided by the client.

Catering to the client also means showing up looking good. I'm not one to put my band in matching jumpsuits or anything, but delivering a good product means delivering a good look. For the love of God, how difficult is it to shave, get a decent hair cut, put on a sharp shirt and clean pair of pants? It's all a tax right off anyway! Keep the receipts - I do.

Sometimes. the client does the best it can do for the band. The accommodations aren't always five star. The end time isn't always perfect. The start time may be bumped back an hour. So what? You're there, right? You're contracted for this, right? My band just did an outdoor gig, and the client provided a gas generator that sounded like my old lawn mower. They didn't provide lighting, but asked us to play until well after dark. Now, the money was terrific, and the actual amount of playing time ended up at around two hours. If you can't find the humor in performing "Let's Get it On" in the dark while it sounds like someone's mowing his lawn - brother, go to the store and rent some perspective. Point? The client normally works hard to do right by the band. Appreciate it - and shut up.

As I get older, I'm realizing that the guys I want to play with need to check their voracious egos at the door, and get on their knees every night to thank God about the opportunity to make money while playing music. The population of the world, as of this minute, is 6,720,577,538. How many of those play music? How many of THAT group play music in front of people? And how many of THAT group play music in front of people and make money for it? You see where I'm going with this? It's a SMALL percentage of humankind that's able to perform music for money. Quit bitching about it. Revel in it. Drink it in, like a really good glass of wine. Mostly, appreciate it. If you can't - just don't do it.

Spiritual, Complex, Humble

My band did a gig Friday night - the usual rough and tumble affair! - and, oddly enough, didn't work the rest of the weekend. Of course, this made me very itchy, so on Sunday, I drove to a jazz club to check out an old friend of mine - a keyboardist who played with me in a band in the mid 90s. I hadn't seen this particular guy for about 13 years (!), but had very fond memories of him as a person AND a superior musician.

Wow. What an unbelievable way to spend three hours. I heard some amazing and exciting jazz and fusion music, performed by players who were skilled AND gifted - now THAT'S a scary combination. Through it all my friend smiled and sang, while the band performed complex, challenging music with no rules or restraints.

The band was comprised of heavy hitters, guys with VERY fat resumes. Trust me when I say you'd be BLOWN AWAY if I told you who these cats had played with. My keyboardist friend gave me the lowdown on each guy, and I knew I was in for a great night of music. However, if you walked up to them and talked to them you'd never know who they played with or what they've done. The best guys - the cream of the crop - are humble and reserved. They don't tell you about their lives, which top 40 hit maker they played with, how many times they've toured the earth. Instead, they sit back and let their music do ALL the talking. Spend any time with great musicians and you learn one very true thing: the best musicians in the world are the ones who just lay it down. They don't need to talk about it.

When I spoke with these guys on break they were humble and unassuming, more interested in my time playing with my friend then in telling me about their lives. There's another telltale sign you're in the presence of greatness. These guys take more interest in the other person - they want to know about YOU. They don't brag about gear, or endorsements, or hits or any BS. Let me put it this way: when some dude tells you he's spent $8,000 on his bass - before you hear him play one note - run away, quickly.

Anyway, I told each of them that listening to what they were creating was more than moving - it was spiritual, in the way that great music IS. Each one of them said "thanks" in such a humble way, I'm convinced that they KNOW how powerful their playing is, but they feel equally as blessed as the listener by it.

I know I was. Thanks guys.

Can a Cover Musician Communicate His Politics?

I'm a political person and I love my country. I'm also a liberal, and have been as long as I've been voting (and before I COULD vote, too). So, it should come as no surprise that I've been pretty miserable for the past seven plus years as I've seen the country I love and cherish almost capsize under the weight of a soulless, power-mad and murderous administration. For over seven years our leaders - in particular our stupid and vindictive (and how's THAT for a dangerous combination?) president and his Antichrist vice president - have made a mockery of our nation. Our reputation, here and abroad, is in shambles, while their words have spiraled into a cacophony of lies, hate, scandal and arrogance. It's appalling.

Here's the very, very, very, very tippiest tip of the iceberg:

• Walter Reed patient treatment
• Firing of US attorneys for political reasons
• The outing of covert CIA agent Valeria Plame
• The "war" in Iraq (WMDs? WTF?)
• Halliburton's no-bid contracts/cronyism
• And where IS Osama Bin Laden?
• Blackwater - "private security contractors," AKA mercenaries with no accountability
• The Military Commissions Act: torture, indefinite detention and the end of habeas corpus
• Hurricanes Katrina and Rita, the destruction of New Orleans, the complete disregard for the black and poor, FEMA, "Heck of a job Brownie," "So many of the people in this arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this is working very well for them"
• Warrantless NSA wiretapping
• Homeland security: using fear to keep America in line and question free
• Abu Ghraib torture
• Tom Delay indicted for conspiracy to violate campaign laws
• Mark Foley, chairman of the House Caucus on Missing and Exploited Children sending sexually explicit messages to pages
• Larry Craig "going to the bathroom"
  
• Global warming? What global warming?
• Tax cuts for the wealthiest, for corporations and on capital gains
• Astronomical deficit, vastly increased national debt
• Immigration issues
• Healthcare?
• A growing poor and upper class and a shrinking middle class

I'm disgusted.

Now, you may or may not agree with my views, but we can all agree that here - in this blog - I'm free to state my opinions. Ah, but therein lies the rub: can I state my opinions while performing with my cover band?

Remember, a cover band ain't great art, nor does it perform original music. A cover band's purpose is to entertain, to excite and thrill and to take the audience on a walk through happy memories. So, as a singer who's also involved in the political landscape of our nation, I constantly walk that tightrope of keeping it light but expressing myself about the country, and world, around us. For, although I'm paid to entertain, I'm also a functioning human being who looks at the world and strains to deal with the emotions modern times brings.

At a gig a few weeks ago there were two soldiers, on leave, in the club. These guys were kids - KIDS, I'm telling you - no more than 20 years old. Yet, they were two weeks away from going back to Iraq to fight a war our president and his cronies orchestrated to solidify their hold as the first true American monarchy, to satiate their blood and oil lust and feed money into the coffers of those smart enough to hitch a ride on their wagon (war reparations, my friends, is a great business). This is a war we never should've started and certainly shouldn't be participating in now, yet we continue to sacrifice our young to this beast with no remorse nor recompense.

So - yes, on mic I spoke up about these two, stating that whether the crowd was against or for the war they NEED to be for these soldiers - these KIDS - and we NEED to get them home to their country, their families and their lives.

I wanted to say more, but good sense took hold and I simply told the two they were heroes to me. Shortly after that the band kicked into "Pink Houses," and I interjected the word "war" into the line "It's the simple man that pays the bills, the thrills, the WAR that kills." (ASIDE: if you think "Pink Houses" is a good ol' tune about great ol' America, read the lyrics a bit more closely. Neither it, nor Springsteen's "Born in the USA" are glowing reviews of the country's machinations and what it's become, though many people think they're both fist pumping "America! F&$k Yeah!" anthems. Newsflash: they ain't.)

And so? Am I any closer to figuring out if I have the right to communicate politics while performing with a cover band? I think the two examples above are as far as I SHOULD push it, and I have my original music to best make my point without pissing off the people who write the checks to pay for quality entertainment.

Still...I often wonder if, considering the circumstances, our lives in this world, the future of our children and our planet...

...I wonder if, sometimes, pushing the boundaries and shaking people out of the fog is worth having the boss shove a finger into my face.

Amazed, Proud, Cocky and Thankful

I'm not sure if I believe in epiphanies. As a temporary game changer, maybe, but as a permanent, life-changing experience? Not so much. After all, human beings are creatures of habit.

(Extremely) general example: let's say you have a near miss, a 502 meant for you. You slip through - even though you've been pounding Scotch all night long and your blood level equals Otis and Foster Brooks combined. You may temporarily quit drinking well before driving, but as a professional musician I've seen the old habits creep back to those blessed with a divine mulligan.

Or maybe you committed to a diet because your favorite pair of jeans are SO tight people can read the date on the quarter in your back pocket. So you start the diet, build some momentum, but eventually your friends start putting the plate of nachos too close to your fork hand, and...

Why am I blabbing about this? Because I might've had something approaching an epiphany, but maybe it was more of a "you've been drinking $200 wine out of a golden chalice and you're CHUGGING, dude!" If you've read any of my stuff here you know my band is pretty good. Solid. Dependable. We don't always get along, but by and large I knew I'd put together a tight, professional group that, thanks to our variety and skill, was able to get some good work along the way.

However - and I mean this honestly - I saw how really, really good, how versatile and amazing this band was last Saturday night. Now, keep in mind, when something's great over an extended period of time, it's easy to take it for granted (if you've ever had a relationship with a smokin' hot, generous and kind person you know exactly what I mean. John Lennon always said "Be Here Now," and as a grown musician and man I'm starting to GET IT.). Sometimes, efficiency equals complacency, and when a band keeps humming along you forget exactly WHAT it is you're accomplishing night in and out.

Seriously - being a part of something really good is almost dangerous. Slipping into the malaise of efficiency and dependability blinds you to the sparks and the fire of the creation itself.

So, here I am last Saturday, playing to a packed house in Sunset Beach. We're seconds away from downbeat, the band and the crowd's really up, the vibe is good - and I take a glance at the set list I'd put together earlier in the day.

The first fifteen minutes of music include:

Moon Dance (at about 150 BPM to make the thing swing HARD)
All My Loving
Every Little Thing
50 Ways to Leave Your Lover
The Way You Look Tonight
Signed Sealed Delivered

Seriously - that's absolutely nuts. A three piece with voice slipping from Jazz to 60s pop to 80s pop to Jazz/pop to Sinatra/big band to Motown?!

And this is just a small piece of the night. My Girl? Pour Some Sugar on Me? Le Freak? Love Shack? I Want You Back? American Pie? Everlasting Love? Slide? Come and Get Your Love? Spectrum, meet the other side of the spectrum.

So, there I was, right before Rob clicked in time for the first song, and it hit me: we're not just a good cover band - we're a DAMN good cover band, one that adapts and creates and plays whatever's necessary to make the gig happen. And not only do we play the stuff - we NAIL it, right to the wall, and then show it to the crowd like showing neighbors vacation pictures. It's crazy, and it's wonderful, and it's something many other bands just CAN'T do.

By the way, I'm not disparaging other bands - far from it. What I'm saying is my band's become so good at doing what it is we do it's become routine, and the spectacular and impossible's become commonplace to me.

But not after Saturday. Thanks, guys.

My Muse: The Kinda Good Friend Doesn't Know When to Leave

When I'm not playing music with my cover band, I'm writing and recording for my first completely solo album. Writing and recording while balancing a day AND night gig is difficult, at best. When inspiration hits it's crucial to record it someway, some how, before it leaves.

Most times my inspiration, and the results of it, are - if not controllable, at least predictable. Outside of a lightning bolt here and there, my inspiration is the result of working an idea over and over and over again - almost like stirring a bowl of frozen ice cream until it's more like a shake.

Which brings me to an interesting point about creating music: lately, my muse has arrived AFTER I've worked myself to death and just about given up on creating anything remotely interesting. But now that she's here, WILL NOT LEAVE.

Case in point: over the past week I've made more progress on four songs than I have in the month prior. Worked out arrangements, instrument structure, melodies and harmonies and reasonably strong first mixes. I don't really write and record like this - it's generally a lengthy process, taken one small step at a time.

Now, it's almost like something switched on in my head and WON'T shut off. My muse is like the girl who comes over for a visit (and you're happy to see her), but she just doesn't know when it's time to leave your house. The creative process and the possibilities of what the songs are, what they can be and what new songs are on the horizon is RELENTLESS. I simply cannot shut down the gears.

Now the process is picking up speed - I'm playing the stuff over and over in my brain during my DAY gig. Figuring out changes. Refining hooks. Changing chords. It's great, but maddening at the same time - kind of like hitting a geyser and watching the stuff explode 100 feet into the air with no way to control it, catch it or shut if off!

The good news? Suddenly, I can say - as unemotionally and business-like as possible - I can see the finish line for my record.

Believe me when I say I'm not complaining, but there are times I'd like/need to turn the muse off - even if only for a day. Sometimes, my brains needs a break. Processing information non-stop is fatiguing, and one thing I DON'T want is to get sick of my own work before it's finished.

But, as noted above, I normally don't work this way, so brothers and sisters, I'm riding this mother of a wave until it crashes on the rocks.

(End of April for the record? Looks like.)

Hungover w/o Drinking a Drop (Alternate Title: Your Shoes and Socks Don't Match)

My band and I finished up '07 with a New Year's gig in Newport. Both the drummer and I were sick as dogs - he had some kind of stomach bug, while I got clobbered with an upper respiratory infection that clogged my sinuses, throat, lungs and windpipe with gunk (GREAT news for a singer). Still, going into the gig I was pretty excited about the venue and performing on New Year's Eve. It's always a good gig.

'07? Hm. Not so much.

I'll start off by saying the venue itself, the owner and the support staff were top notch. Every person working there was very cool. And, although load in was kind of tough (upstairs with no elevator), the band pulled together and we got the gear in and out in a reasonable manner (again considering no elevator). The band members and the music were both in good spirits.

The kinda sorta issue was the crowd. I have to say, in all my years of performing, I had no answer for the crowd. The average age was early 50s through crypt-keeper, and though we threw every swing and older-ish song at them we knew, I still got criticized for "not playing enough cha-chas!"

Verbatim, by the way.

Now, I have absolutely nothing against cha chas, classic west coast swing, the Charleston or boogie woogie. In fact, we have a few of those in our musical bag of tricks. However, the set list I put together encompassed swing, faux jazz and then soul, R&B and pop from the 60s through the 90s. I mean, we were to open with "Slide" and crank out "Rock and Roll All Night" at midnight for God's sake! So, there I was, tearing through an old "complete" and "updated" song list (which wasn't either), trying to figure out what could work with this crowd.

Ultimately, we resigned ourselves to slow-burn music and accepted the multiple crickets that greeted us at the end of many songs with a sense of humor born from playing countless gigs like this through the years. Uncomfortable? Yes. Unexpected? Definitely. Unparalleled? No way. Unprofessional? Never - we pulled together and pulled it off like a solid cover band does.

Now, a few of the tables there were definitely very nice, friendly and high energy, and that allowed us to bust out some old-school disco and other kind of non-threatening dance music. Still, the room and the night didn't move the way I wanted it to, and that was a bit frustrating and, ultimately, had me shaking my head and thinking of mismatched socks.

Which means? Well, next time I prepare two completely different set lists and the band creates an even BIGGER bag of up tempo dinner music. This type of thing is a challenge, and - once the headache passed - I made up my mind to nail the next "huh? That's the crowd?" gig to the wall.

Peace. Hope. Love.

The holiday gigs are, for the most part, completed. It's a tough month and a half for me and my band. Most of the corporate gigs we do are for people/companies I've known for some time, and though they normally treat us very well, it still becomes a bit exhausting - mentally and physically - playing a large amount of gigs in a short amount of time with four guys in a band who alternate between liking and wanting to kill one another.

My band and I did our last "official" holiday performance last Saturday (we've got a handful of club dates left in the month, followed by a New Year's celebration). After a pretty tough six weeks of corporate gigs, I was looking forward to finishing up the holiday gig checklist and winding down a bit.

This last gig was for my hometown of Laguna Hills, California, and was literally within a one-minute walking time from my house. We performed in the middle of a huge park (part of the reason I bought the house in this particular neighborhood), for an event the City of Laguna Hills puts on every year - their "Holiday Hay Ride." Families from all over town - close to 1,000 people - come to see Santa, play games, sit on haystacks by warm fires, eat a bunch of great food, take in some live music and take a ride in a huge hay cart pulled by two enormous horses.

The band's stage was decorated with Christmas trees, packages, candy, you name it. It was really, really festive. Before we played one note - even when we had a few small problems with the electrical (which the staff fixed and did a terrific job of it) - I had this amazing feeling. What brought it on? Especially at the end of a tough stretch of gigs? It was a combination of playing for the home crowd, seeing so many of my friends and neighbors, taking in all the decorations and doing something really cool for my home town.

When the sun went down, the lights went up - every single tree surrounding the stage was lit with beautiful Christmas lights. That was it for me. Everything that playing so many gigs in such a short time brings - sore knees, raw throat, aches and pains, band tension, fatigue and the prospect of playing the same songs - melted away.

I was, truly, awash in the pure joy and all the wonderful things Christmas brings with it. Community. Unselfishness. A child's sense of wonderment and awe. Peace. Love. I felt this amazing joy, a happiness that just kept building. I could NOT wipe the smile off my face - and frankly, I didn't want to anyway.

We live in cynical times. Our leaders are liars and inept, our world burning down like a candle, things cost too much, we don't trust one another and it seems like there's no end in sight to the sorrow we ourselves have created and encouraged. But on that Saturday night, in and for the City of Laguna Hills, California - for those moments, when I sang and stared out at the trees lit with a million tiny stars - when I looked at my community being together, laughing together, celebrating together - when I watched the children who danced and sang with no preconceived notions about skill level or who they needed to impress...they danced and sang because they just couldn't contain their happiness...

...I was filled with a hope and love more powerful than I can ever describe.

Thank you, Laguna Hills.

Lexicon, Part Deux

And THIS is what I meant to blog today - more lexicon additions:

Who's that?
Bitch or snitch.
How much per minute?
Flatsky and Spubes.
I know all but three.
Vino it up
Rudy the Red D--err, BEAKED Reindeer
You're not a member of the club!

And of course, we're spreading the holiday cheer among one another:

"Did you have a nice Thanksgiving? We didn't, falcon falcon!"

Back Up to See Closer

Like every year, as the holiday season presses on (and why, oh why can't we just have peace on earth and goodwill towards men 365 days a year? Is it THAT big a deal?), I start figuring out my approach for the new year. Normally this means getting the gigs lined up, blocking out the "dibs" section on the calendar for gigs not yet (but will be) booked, reviewing the song list to see what to scratch, what to keep, what to work on and what to add and deciding how to best open up new frontiers. Busy time, considering I'm juggling the day gig, playing the night gigs and somehow squeezing in Christmas shopping and the inevitable (and welcome) socializing the holiday season brings.

This year's a bit different though. As I look to a fresh, new year, I'm pretty jacked up about trying something new. So, in addition to my current cover band I'm putting together a second cover band to play in '08.

It's been eight years since I put a band together from nothing, but back then it was more nerve wracking. I mean, not only did I make the choice to walk away from a financial and musical powerhouse with A-list players (one Grammy-nominated, one currently touring with Carly Simon and who'd recorded with Rod Stewart), but I'd made up my mind to start from scratch. I wouldn't use ANYONE I'd played with before, so no one could tell me what MY band needed to be or sound like. No arguments. No preconceived notions. Of course, I also got all the stress and extra work that comes with singlehandedly putting a new band together.

All of this, while I was booking gigs for a band that didn't exist. Yikes.

But that's the benefit of looking back at that stressful time. I can now avoid the bumps and pitfalls - this isn't "wing and a prayer" time anymore. Grinding it out eight years ago means I now know exactly what the clients want, what I think is going to work and what the band's temperament should be.

So, in '08, I'll be talking to you a bit more about the new twist on my old theme. It's gonna be a blast.

Decking the Halls w/o Decking One Another

The holiday season is crazy busy for a good cover band. This is the time of year every company, city, club and group of friends throw a holiday celebration, and they're looking for a good cover band to entertain the gang. Luckily for me, my band's pretty good - and I've made such great friends who're also great contacts over the years, and they consistently come to me for entertainment (THANKS everybody!) - that our holiday time is pretty busy.

Of course, the downside to this (and I'm sure it applies to any group- not just a band) is spending TOO MUCH time with the same people for about six weeks. When you factor in added pressure (a cover band has to REALLY be on its game for the holidays) with fatigue (I work 50+ hours a week in addition to running the band) with the sort of contempt that familiarity brings (four guys with four opinions seeing one another more often than any other time of year) you come up with a tasty holiday treat (aka toxic brew) called Band Tension.

And that's the irony of playing gigs at this particular time of year. I mean, the holidays are supposed to invite peace, love, patience and goodwill towards one another, right? Not always - at least not on a bandstand. One player gets pissed at another for playing too slow or too fast. Meanwhile, the slow/fast player is pissed at the complainer because he keeps screwing up the same changes in the same songs over and over. Meanwhile, another guy's pissed at the first guy because the transitions aren't quick enough, and the first guy's pissed at THAT guy because that guy pushes the transitions only when it's convenient for him. Meanwhile, EVERYBODY'S pissed at another guy who's being a bit too spontaneous with changes, and that guy's pissed at everybody else because they sound sloppy or are bitching about random things.

Granted, that last paragraph's chock full of gobbledegook, and is a (mostly) fictional account of a band's holiday dynamic, but believe me when I say those grumblings, gripes and cold-dagger stares are multiplied to the nth degree this time of year. I know I'VE been pissed off, and I'm sure the guys in my band have been pissed at me and with one another (it's like getting little ice slivers shot at my shoulder blades). Anyway, I'm kind of basing this theory on empirical evidence, mind you - just what I see with my eyes, hear with my ears and feel with my body.

So, what to do? Just grind through it, man. Do the work. Be professional. Give the client the best you have, no questions asked. Eventually, it all shakes out anyway - December passes and a new year begins with new challenges, new sounds/flavors and new vibes and personalities. It's all good.

The Worst Blogger in the History of Blog Kind

Yes...I'm THAT bad.

"Gee," you guys mumble at a gig, "why aren't you blogging anymore?"

And it's true - I haven't come near this page for about three months (!). Why? Well, it's the old "the devil you know is worse than the devil you don't" - it's all about the day gig, running my band, working to finish my first completely solo record, writing on the side, etc. Plus, I spend nine hours a day writing - that's what my day gig IS.

In short, it's about TIME - that is, finding time to put my thoughts down in an entertaining and coherent way.

Plus, I guess I'm not your average blogger. Although I have no problem discussing my spin on the comings and goings of running a cover band, or how certain books/movies/songs/etc. can always translate into metaphor about being a musician, I don't want to dig too deep about certain things. It comes across as narcissistic and pathetic, y'know? Besides, some of my REAL bitching and gripes regarding bands, music and musicians are better off NOT being made public. I can be opinionated and assertive, but I'm no fan of public castrations.

(Yes - that means when I'm pissed at someone, or if someone in my band's acting like a primadonna, jackhole, rock star, hypocrite, fake or a combination I won't spill the specifics. Maybe in a general way, but that's as far as I like to go on the internet.)

Which means...what? Well, it means I'll still document what happens in a cover band, what my expectations are and how to keep things moving forward.

I CAN tell you this: beginning in '08 I'm probably going to start a SECOND cover band, and use that one for certain gigs. Why? Well, I need guys who all want to do and play the same type of music without any eye rolling or mumbling "if you say so." Who understand what he or she is supposed to do and embrace that role. Who appreciate the work BEFORE the gig.

OK - so, my promise to get out here a few times a week and give you the blurb. I hope you enjoy it, and if so don't be shy - comment, and let me know what you think.

300? Try Five

OK - I think the movie "300" is terrific. It's beautifully shot, moves at a quick pace, provides some great fight scenes and tons of action and is packed with enough (cartoonish?) violence to make any dude shout "boo-ya!" It's also eminently quotable - I can't tell you how many times I've said "Tonight we dine in HELL!" or "Immortals - we'll put their name to the test!" or the classic "This...is...SPARTA!"

Anyway, you've probably seen the movie or know about the Battle of Thermopylae - 300 hundred Spartans (and 900 Spartan serfs) held back a far larger Persian army (estimated between 200,000 and 500,000 men) for about three days. In the aftermath all of the Spartans (save two) were killed - however, better than 20,000 Persians died during those three days. Not a bad last stand.

Of course, this battle is legendary and illustrates the power of bravery, the strength of working in tandem/unison, belief in each other and dedication to a higher purpose.

Hm...sound a lot like...

A COVER BAND! (Da Da Daaaaaaaaaaa!)

There you stand - the five of you facing a much larger crowd. It's a battle of strength and will. They challenge you - call you out, goad you on, demand you prove your skill. Essentially, they're WAITING for you to fail. And if you should give in to weakness? To dissension within the ranks? Death - in terms of kissing the gig good-bye - awaits you.

Ah - but YOUR band is different. Your band welcomes the challenge. You know those to your left, right, in front and behind will bring their powers to bear. There will be no dissension, for each person knows the role to be played. You're ready to make the sacrifices needed to reach the next level. It doesn't matter how you achieve the goal - yours is a higher purpose...to stand in front of this ravenous crowd, wield your weapons with the utmost skill...

...and kill each and every one of them.

That, my friends, is a GREAT cover band.

The Cover Band Lexicon, etc.

I've mentioned in a few blogs the need - hell, the absolute NECESSITY - to feel good and laugh while playing music. Sharing smiles with your band is a GREAT way to release pressure and turn a crummy gig into something pretty fun. Also, the crowd/your clients love nothing more than to see the band enjoy itself - they WANT to know you're having fun and are into the gig as much as they are.

In my band, we share little on-stage asides - someone will throw a quick "Chuck Conner" face, or do what we call a "TF" (another silly expression). Maybe the bass player will do a "heavy metal pose" for a split second while we're playing a beautiful ballad. Many times I'll change a word or two in a lyric, knowing the crowd won't hear it but the band will, all for the chance of making them crack up. It's a blast, and keeps things loose and light.

One thing we've developed in my band is this odd little lexicon - code words and phrases for things going on around us. This is our way of pointing things out to one another while putting a weird spin on them. For example: how many times has YOUR drummer called you over to say "Gilda Radner has a cigarette holder!" during a gig? Here's the funny part about it: Gilda Radner wasn't at the gig (unless it was in spirit), and the person Rob (the drummer) was talking about didn't even smoke. Still, I IMMEDIATELY knew what he was talking about, and laughed until my stomach hurt.

Now, prepare yourself as I take you into the dark and secret underworld of the Party Jones On-Stage Lexicon. Of course, I can't tell you what these ultra-secret code words REALLY mean - after all, we haven't taught you the secret handshake - but trust me when I say they're general phrases used for specific things (like someone saying you're "chill"). We use them all the time and, yes, they all mean something very specific:

"She's a Charlie Tango!"
"I guess it's a bobby pin day."
"Nice. Wolf smile."
"He's going all Foster Brooks over there."
"Did you credit card him?"
"C'mon dude! PUAG!"
"Ready to Jack it up?"
"Where's Alpha Mike?"
"She's got a cigarette holder."
"Taint!"
"It's the bourbon al-Qaida."
"Did you crack a corneleus?"

In addition to those, we absorb as much pop culture bull dada as we can hold, then bark pieces of it out during a gig, trying our best to make each other laugh. Most of these we pinched from a favorite movie/book/TV show, so unlike our PJ lexicon above we can't claim ownership to them - but we DO use them at the best times:

"Buried aliiiiiiiive."
"Nice n' tight ladies."
"Ifitirondick."
"You're dangerous."
"Ooo yeah!"
"You down?"
"Tonight, we dine in hell!"
"You're ghosting us, MF."
"Little hand says it's time to rock and roll."
"Oh so niiiice."
"Bears attack when you're in season."

Finally, we've had so many weird/funny/huh?! experiences we can boil an entire goofy event into one or two words. Just saying the words brings back the entire adventure, and gets us laughing like crazy. Here are a few of those:

"Wildweed."
"Ratchakokoff."
"Bean cheese."
"Katefruit."
"That is NOT 'check!'"
"Cobra Stare."
"Alpo."
"Crap fart."
"Tuna Boat's In."
"Triple Guffaw."
"The 'No More Haircuts Today!' Whitewall Disaster."
"Hairy Harpoon."
"Grey Bra Syndrome."
"Carrie's Mom."

Yes, it's stupid and silly - but laughing keeps us feeling good, which helps us keep YOU feeling good.

And that's what it's all about - MAH BRUTH-THAS and SIST-TAHS!

Spirals

Circles. Life's built on them, right? If you study any ancient civilization, or religion, or read any papers on tradition, habits or even nature, you'll see life works in circles.

In my life, the circles connect and form spirals. That's where I find myself these days - in the middle of these strange spirals. All of them connected and spinning, feeding of one another. It's downright strange, but it's helped me find peace and clarity when the spinning gets out of control.

Some of my circles include: Family. Band. Day gig. Relationships. Spirituality. Duty. Discovery of oneself. Vision/goals. All of these circles, spinning in my life like plates on a stick. The weird thing is they're one on top of another, not side by side, and they're all connected, with each one affecting the next. Sometimes they all affect one another (how does my family life affect my band? My writing gig? My relationships? How does my search for spirituality affect my vision and goals? How does my sense of duty to my band AND my family help me discover who I am as a leader? How do my relationships affect my vision and goals? Am I strong enough to make decisions to meet my goals, regardless of cost?).

So, that's where the spiral comes in. All these circles spinning around right on top of me, increasing in speed AND pressure. But that's where a person MUST have a way to stay calm when these circles threaten to crush the gd life out of you.

So get this: we all know the eye of a hurricane is, literally, the calmest part of the hurricane itself. In fact, winds are light and it may even be sunny. Circling the eye is the eye wall, composed of clouds and thunderstorms and the strongest winds. So why is the eye calms? Because the wind can't blow into it. It's a lot like taking a good-sized salad bowl full of water, holding on to the edge of the bowl and spinning it in a circle over your head. The same force keeping the water in the bucket keeps the winds and storms out of the eye of a hurricane.

Result: the pressure in the eye - in the middle of the storm, in the middle of the spiral - is extremely low.

(Here I go with the metaphors again.)

When things in life spin almost out of control I really DO find a strange calm and clarity of vision. Seriously - I know what I want to do, what I will and won't tolerate and how the road in front of me splits. Maybe that's how my muse operates - I'm not sure. All I do know is when those circles connect and spin, my focus increases and I see my life - my family, my band, my day gig, my relationships - with absolute clarity.

Spirals? Bring 'em on.