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.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, August 6, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Possibilities...
OK - I'm a Star Trek fan/geek/whatever (BIG fan of the original series - not so much of the Next Generation). Not to the point of dressing up like Kirk for ComicCon, but - yeah - I love the show and the movies.
Anyway, the second Trek movie "Wrath of Khan" is a classic. I don't think I'm spoiling the movie for anyone when I say Spock dies at the end. In these days of movie spoiler sites, Quicktime trailers and DVDs something like this wouldn't be a big deal, but I saw the movie at the theater when it opened in '82, and without any advance notice or hints I was genuinely shocked.
At the end of the movie they put Spock's body in a tube/coffin and shoot it to "The Genesis Planet" for his final resting place. Kirk, still grieving, looks to the future and reminds himself that "Spock always said there are possibilities." Kirk then grins and looks almost - confident? - and the movie ends.
My band played a gig on Saturday with a new keyboardist/female vocalist. It was an AMAZING show. We were winging it, as we used a sub guitar player, but it was unbelievable. I haven't felt so good about performing music in quite some time. Whatever we wanted to play we played, with no pressure or worry about being perfect. At times it felt like a free fall, but - although I've never jumped off a building! - I imagine a free fall is scary AND exhilarating at the same time.
We swapped harmonies and verses, sung together and apart and LAUGHED - a lot! - like kids just discovering something really cool for the first time. Props to Rob and Joey - the band's rock-solid rhythm section - for slipping more punches than Mohammed Ali in his prime, and keeping the rhythm fatter than pre-Subway Jared. Knowing you guys are back there holding it down is an amazing comfort, and I appreciate that.
So now? I'm feeling more excited than I have in 25 years of playing music. The band's going to stretch and play different things. We're gearing up to attack the next level in terms of gigs and musicality.
I'm confident, man, just considering the possibilities.
Anyway, the second Trek movie "Wrath of Khan" is a classic. I don't think I'm spoiling the movie for anyone when I say Spock dies at the end. In these days of movie spoiler sites, Quicktime trailers and DVDs something like this wouldn't be a big deal, but I saw the movie at the theater when it opened in '82, and without any advance notice or hints I was genuinely shocked.
At the end of the movie they put Spock's body in a tube/coffin and shoot it to "The Genesis Planet" for his final resting place. Kirk, still grieving, looks to the future and reminds himself that "Spock always said there are possibilities." Kirk then grins and looks almost - confident? - and the movie ends.
My band played a gig on Saturday with a new keyboardist/female vocalist. It was an AMAZING show. We were winging it, as we used a sub guitar player, but it was unbelievable. I haven't felt so good about performing music in quite some time. Whatever we wanted to play we played, with no pressure or worry about being perfect. At times it felt like a free fall, but - although I've never jumped off a building! - I imagine a free fall is scary AND exhilarating at the same time.
We swapped harmonies and verses, sung together and apart and LAUGHED - a lot! - like kids just discovering something really cool for the first time. Props to Rob and Joey - the band's rock-solid rhythm section - for slipping more punches than Mohammed Ali in his prime, and keeping the rhythm fatter than pre-Subway Jared. Knowing you guys are back there holding it down is an amazing comfort, and I appreciate that.
So now? I'm feeling more excited than I have in 25 years of playing music. The band's going to stretch and play different things. We're gearing up to attack the next level in terms of gigs and musicality.
I'm confident, man, just considering the possibilities.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Ice Breaker Ship - aka Singer
Sometimes, life has a crappy way of imposing its will on you. You're making an omelet but you're thinking about a safe that's about to drop on your head. You're painting the fence while a poison-tipped spear's been thrown at your noggin. Or, you're getting ready to play music in front of strangers who expect you to entertain them for a few hours, but you're getting beat up by life's ill-timed shrapnel.
That's the thing, right? Keeping focused on the job at hand - but sometimes that's close to impossible. I have a gig this Friday with one sub and one new member (luckily, both are excellent musicians). These type of weird gigs need a higher concentration level - no skating here. Keeping two strangers and the other 60% of the band on the same page will take some doing, but I just ain't there yet.
The day gig. The fam. The muse who's suddenly gone MIA. All of this is nipping at me like a squirrel eating a buttered corn cob. This is the the danger of having two professions, and although I can normally keep them in opposite corners, I'm having no luck doing that this week. Whereas music is often an "escape" - even though it's actually MORE difficult than the day gig (I'll explain this in another blog) - I'm having trouble getting my head around what the band needs to do because of the heinous stuff unrelated to music soaring around me like Pig Pen's little cloud on speed.
So - I asked myself how to get through this, and my demented head shot back: "Ice Breaker Ship." For those of you who think I've totally fried my noodle - or don't know what I'm talking about - icebreakers are used to punch through and break up thick Arctic and Antarctic ice. They have a steeped hull to rise on top of the ice and then, using the ship's weight and gravity, crush downward through it. Inside the hull is a huge support structure so the hull itself isn't crushed, and powerful engines keep pushing it forward so the ship doesn't break under pressure.
(Yes - you're all gagging because the metaphor's so damn obvious.)
Anyway, that's where my head's going to be for the next day - trying to break through all the crap that's keeping me from focusing on the gig. And if I need help, I know Rob and Joey (Party Jones' esteemed rhythm section) are there to keep me smiling and help the band nail the gig.
That's the thing, right? Keeping focused on the job at hand - but sometimes that's close to impossible. I have a gig this Friday with one sub and one new member (luckily, both are excellent musicians). These type of weird gigs need a higher concentration level - no skating here. Keeping two strangers and the other 60% of the band on the same page will take some doing, but I just ain't there yet.
The day gig. The fam. The muse who's suddenly gone MIA. All of this is nipping at me like a squirrel eating a buttered corn cob. This is the the danger of having two professions, and although I can normally keep them in opposite corners, I'm having no luck doing that this week. Whereas music is often an "escape" - even though it's actually MORE difficult than the day gig (I'll explain this in another blog) - I'm having trouble getting my head around what the band needs to do because of the heinous stuff unrelated to music soaring around me like Pig Pen's little cloud on speed.
So - I asked myself how to get through this, and my demented head shot back: "Ice Breaker Ship." For those of you who think I've totally fried my noodle - or don't know what I'm talking about - icebreakers are used to punch through and break up thick Arctic and Antarctic ice. They have a steeped hull to rise on top of the ice and then, using the ship's weight and gravity, crush downward through it. Inside the hull is a huge support structure so the hull itself isn't crushed, and powerful engines keep pushing it forward so the ship doesn't break under pressure.
(Yes - you're all gagging because the metaphor's so damn obvious.)
Anyway, that's where my head's going to be for the next day - trying to break through all the crap that's keeping me from focusing on the gig. And if I need help, I know Rob and Joey (Party Jones' esteemed rhythm section) are there to keep me smiling and help the band nail the gig.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The Kindness of Strangers
People can be kind - the type of good-hearted, no stings attached niceness that makes you think "hey - there's hope for mankind yet!"
We played a gig last Saturday - a 25th anniversary party in Huntington Beach. Before we played one note it was a great gig. The band was feeling good, the room was terrific, and the guests were cool and friendly.
But more than that, the hosts - and the guests - made us feel like we were there WITH them, not just performing FOR them. We ate with them (UNBELIEVEABLE food - filet mignon, anyone?), shared drinks with them (though I, as usual, stuck with water), had coffee and dessert and TONS of great conversation.
As I've blogged before, this type of treatment is totally unexpected and NEVER a requirement for hiring a band. We're brought in to do a job, much like a waiter or busboy (who work their butts off all night! They're the unsung heroes of many corporate and personal gigs, and I appreciate what they do and how they do it). We're not guests. We're hired to set up gear, sing and entertain, tear down gear and move along. Anything in addition to that is pure gravy, showing a generosity from the hosts that shouldn't be expected, but appreciated.
If - as a cover band player - you're not cool with that...if you expect to be treated like a king or a rock star...pull your head out and get into another line of work.
But I digress. Anyway, after a great night of food, fun and music, the hosts gave us a tip that made our eyes spin. Amazing. And you know what the host says to me? He shakes my hand and says "You guys made this party - and you're underpaid."
Yes, performing cover music is often a grind and can drive you nuts. But the kindness of strangers can make a good night really great - and creates memories I can carry with me for years.
We played a gig last Saturday - a 25th anniversary party in Huntington Beach. Before we played one note it was a great gig. The band was feeling good, the room was terrific, and the guests were cool and friendly.
But more than that, the hosts - and the guests - made us feel like we were there WITH them, not just performing FOR them. We ate with them (UNBELIEVEABLE food - filet mignon, anyone?), shared drinks with them (though I, as usual, stuck with water), had coffee and dessert and TONS of great conversation.
As I've blogged before, this type of treatment is totally unexpected and NEVER a requirement for hiring a band. We're brought in to do a job, much like a waiter or busboy (who work their butts off all night! They're the unsung heroes of many corporate and personal gigs, and I appreciate what they do and how they do it). We're not guests. We're hired to set up gear, sing and entertain, tear down gear and move along. Anything in addition to that is pure gravy, showing a generosity from the hosts that shouldn't be expected, but appreciated.
If - as a cover band player - you're not cool with that...if you expect to be treated like a king or a rock star...pull your head out and get into another line of work.
But I digress. Anyway, after a great night of food, fun and music, the hosts gave us a tip that made our eyes spin. Amazing. And you know what the host says to me? He shakes my hand and says "You guys made this party - and you're underpaid."
Yes, performing cover music is often a grind and can drive you nuts. But the kindness of strangers can make a good night really great - and creates memories I can carry with me for years.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Dodging Bullets, Neo Style
There's something weird/cool/pulse-pounding/whack about facing a bunch of strangers who expect you to do something REALLY exceptional - take them someplace in their past, and do it perfectly.
Cover music, man. It's bizarre! There they are, staring you down like something off George Romero's cutting-room floor, and you're looking back at them while the drummer counts off the song. It's time to nail it - kill the tune, raise the energy level, keep them dancing and singing along while not allowing that bastard Moe Mentum to escape out the back door.
Like most bands, we use a set list to get the wheel spinning. It helps the guitarist get his settings in place, helps the drummer and bass player figure out transitions and lock down the correct tempos and gives us a general roadmap for the night.
But what if the night takes a left turn down Bizarre Road? What if the crowd the night before loved 80s music but this crowd's eating it up like liver and lima bean-flavored ice cream? What if following the set list song-for-song is not only letting Moe get away, but it's killing the poor guy?
THEN it's time to slow things down - figuratively, not literally - and go Wachowski Brothers on the crowd. Bullet time, Matrix style.
What's that mean? Well, if you saw The Matrix (and I know you did), you remember Neo moving so quickly he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He could gauge his every move in a controlled, calm way. Remember him leaning back on his heels dodging The Agents' bullets?
OK - when bad energy comes back at you, go Neo style. Slow everything down in your head. Lean back, dodge, dodge. Don't panic - don't get discouraged. Then, while the band's playing the current song, rewind the past few songs in your head. Pay attention to details - every little foot tap and provocative stare. What worked? What didn't?
After that, do a quick mental review of the songlist while the band's cooking along.
Do all of this in about four or five seconds, but do it so quickly that - to you - you're moving in slow motion and not missing anything about crowd reactions to the previous songs.
This sounds really goofy, but I'm telling you - I've completely changed a set's directions based upon some girl tapping her foot or clapping for a song we played ten minutes before. And it WORKS. So when it works, you go with that road until it stops working, or until the end of the set. By then, you'll probably have the crowd on your side and ready to follow you wherever you want to take them.
(For those of you who want to cut to the chase? ALWAYS think on your feet. OK - I friggin' LOVE the Matrix. Sue me!)
Cover music, man. It's bizarre! There they are, staring you down like something off George Romero's cutting-room floor, and you're looking back at them while the drummer counts off the song. It's time to nail it - kill the tune, raise the energy level, keep them dancing and singing along while not allowing that bastard Moe Mentum to escape out the back door.
Like most bands, we use a set list to get the wheel spinning. It helps the guitarist get his settings in place, helps the drummer and bass player figure out transitions and lock down the correct tempos and gives us a general roadmap for the night.
But what if the night takes a left turn down Bizarre Road? What if the crowd the night before loved 80s music but this crowd's eating it up like liver and lima bean-flavored ice cream? What if following the set list song-for-song is not only letting Moe get away, but it's killing the poor guy?
THEN it's time to slow things down - figuratively, not literally - and go Wachowski Brothers on the crowd. Bullet time, Matrix style.
What's that mean? Well, if you saw The Matrix (and I know you did), you remember Neo moving so quickly he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He could gauge his every move in a controlled, calm way. Remember him leaning back on his heels dodging The Agents' bullets?
OK - when bad energy comes back at you, go Neo style. Slow everything down in your head. Lean back, dodge, dodge. Don't panic - don't get discouraged. Then, while the band's playing the current song, rewind the past few songs in your head. Pay attention to details - every little foot tap and provocative stare. What worked? What didn't?
After that, do a quick mental review of the songlist while the band's cooking along.
Do all of this in about four or five seconds, but do it so quickly that - to you - you're moving in slow motion and not missing anything about crowd reactions to the previous songs.
This sounds really goofy, but I'm telling you - I've completely changed a set's directions based upon some girl tapping her foot or clapping for a song we played ten minutes before. And it WORKS. So when it works, you go with that road until it stops working, or until the end of the set. By then, you'll probably have the crowd on your side and ready to follow you wherever you want to take them.
(For those of you who want to cut to the chase? ALWAYS think on your feet. OK - I friggin' LOVE the Matrix. Sue me!)
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
AKA The Seven Degrees of 7/4
I'm reaching back in my Rolodex-card memory (most of the cards are smudged though!) and thinking about previous July 4th gigs.
America's birthday's always been good to me and my musical crew - financially and otherwise. And it's weird how many friends I've made and gigs I've picked up through this one holiday.
For example: my friend Jack introduced me to Bob and Sue, who'd used a different band every year for their huge July 4 party...that is, before us (well, by "us" I mean me and several incarnations of my band. Wait, wait...in NO WAY am I taking full credit for doing this party every year - I've been blessed to play this gig with some crazy good cats. However, I'm kind of the string holding the years together).
Anyway, one of the guests at Bob and Sue's party was Steve, who throws his own summer bash every year. He now books us for that every year, playing alongside his band - and we have a BLAST. At Steve's party we met several folks who've hooked us up for the Long Beach Auto Show, Long Beach Concerts on the Park and Rancho Los Cerritos community. At the Long Beach Auto Show we met a person who hired us to play their Christmas function, and at THAT function we met someone wanting to book us for HER holiday function the following year!
(ASIDE: this hasn't even TOUCHED upon meeting the wonderful Steve and Jennifer at Bob's party, who've become very good friends - no, make that "part of the Jones family.")
I KNOW I'm forgetting something - and one of these days I'll do the definitive gig tree, which shows where EVERYTHING came from (would Taco Surf be the Tree of Life?). In the meantime, it's interesting and fun to see how much really comes from celebrating the Fourth of July with Party Jones.
America's birthday's always been good to me and my musical crew - financially and otherwise. And it's weird how many friends I've made and gigs I've picked up through this one holiday.
For example: my friend Jack introduced me to Bob and Sue, who'd used a different band every year for their huge July 4 party...that is, before us (well, by "us" I mean me and several incarnations of my band. Wait, wait...in NO WAY am I taking full credit for doing this party every year - I've been blessed to play this gig with some crazy good cats. However, I'm kind of the string holding the years together).
Anyway, one of the guests at Bob and Sue's party was Steve, who throws his own summer bash every year. He now books us for that every year, playing alongside his band - and we have a BLAST. At Steve's party we met several folks who've hooked us up for the Long Beach Auto Show, Long Beach Concerts on the Park and Rancho Los Cerritos community. At the Long Beach Auto Show we met a person who hired us to play their Christmas function, and at THAT function we met someone wanting to book us for HER holiday function the following year!
(ASIDE: this hasn't even TOUCHED upon meeting the wonderful Steve and Jennifer at Bob's party, who've become very good friends - no, make that "part of the Jones family.")
I KNOW I'm forgetting something - and one of these days I'll do the definitive gig tree, which shows where EVERYTHING came from (would Taco Surf be the Tree of Life?). In the meantime, it's interesting and fun to see how much really comes from celebrating the Fourth of July with Party Jones.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
No Nets for a 3P w/V
Although my band is now "officially" a five-piece (drums, bass, guitar, keyboards and voice), I've spent most of my musicial career playing in what's known as a three-piece and voice. In fact, my band will still occasionally play as a 3P w/V for smaller/less $$ gigs.
In this type of band the guitarist, if he's any good, wears about 20 hats every song. He's chording to fatten the sound while playing all the hookish and familiar guitar/key/horn/string runs. The bass player can't play just the written bass part - he has to weave around the guitar player and be intuitive enough to know when to fill it up and when to stick in the pocket. The drummer has to lock in with the bass player while also knowing when to drop in a fill and when to let the song breathe. Meanwhile, the singer belts it out, and depending on the amount of backup singers in the band the lead vocalist may have to jump from melody to harmony to unison chant to melody within a few bars.
This type of band is fun, challenging and somewhat dangerous (musically, duh). For example, if the guitar player misses a chord in a five or six-piece band, it often gets lost in the shuffle behind the second guitarist, keyboardist or horn section. Same with the bass player and drummer. Being surrounded by several musicians is a good safety net - they all produce sounds that help cover up minor gliches.
However, if only three guys are responsible for the sound and one guy for the melody, and one of them makes a mistake, it's HUGE. Even the smallest mistake - the singer going flat, the bass player missing a note, the drummer dropping a beat or the guitarist playing the wrong chord - is amplified. For me, it always feels like we're standing on a coffee table with wobbly legs and it kind of shakes and teeters before we regain balance.
If this happens for a prolonged time, it's disasterous for the band. A few years back we played a gig with a bass player who shouldn't have been on stage - let alone earning money to play music - to begin with. The guitar player launched into his solo, and the bass player (who at the beginning of the song gave a fey and arrogant hand wave when asked "do you know this song?") proceeded to demolish the solo section, playing changes in the wrong key while his "stupid" fingers ran up and down the fretboard like a pinball on crack. Man - about 35 seconds of living in the pits of hell, in front of a packed house. It was humiliating, infuriating and amatuerish, but mostly it made THE ENTIRE BAND look like a bunch of novice wannabes. (Thankfully, this particular bass player was humanely destroyed behind a barn. "Bass player, thy name is 'poser!' Ka-POW!")
So, there's no safety net for a three-piece with voice. Each guy has to nail his part or risk making the entire band sound unprepared. It's thrilling. It's scary. It's cool.
And, thankfully, with the addition of a wonderful keyboardist, it'll soon be a thing of the past.
In this type of band the guitarist, if he's any good, wears about 20 hats every song. He's chording to fatten the sound while playing all the hookish and familiar guitar/key/horn/string runs. The bass player can't play just the written bass part - he has to weave around the guitar player and be intuitive enough to know when to fill it up and when to stick in the pocket. The drummer has to lock in with the bass player while also knowing when to drop in a fill and when to let the song breathe. Meanwhile, the singer belts it out, and depending on the amount of backup singers in the band the lead vocalist may have to jump from melody to harmony to unison chant to melody within a few bars.
This type of band is fun, challenging and somewhat dangerous (musically, duh). For example, if the guitar player misses a chord in a five or six-piece band, it often gets lost in the shuffle behind the second guitarist, keyboardist or horn section. Same with the bass player and drummer. Being surrounded by several musicians is a good safety net - they all produce sounds that help cover up minor gliches.
However, if only three guys are responsible for the sound and one guy for the melody, and one of them makes a mistake, it's HUGE. Even the smallest mistake - the singer going flat, the bass player missing a note, the drummer dropping a beat or the guitarist playing the wrong chord - is amplified. For me, it always feels like we're standing on a coffee table with wobbly legs and it kind of shakes and teeters before we regain balance.
If this happens for a prolonged time, it's disasterous for the band. A few years back we played a gig with a bass player who shouldn't have been on stage - let alone earning money to play music - to begin with. The guitar player launched into his solo, and the bass player (who at the beginning of the song gave a fey and arrogant hand wave when asked "do you know this song?") proceeded to demolish the solo section, playing changes in the wrong key while his "stupid" fingers ran up and down the fretboard like a pinball on crack. Man - about 35 seconds of living in the pits of hell, in front of a packed house. It was humiliating, infuriating and amatuerish, but mostly it made THE ENTIRE BAND look like a bunch of novice wannabes. (Thankfully, this particular bass player was humanely destroyed behind a barn. "Bass player, thy name is 'poser!' Ka-POW!")
So, there's no safety net for a three-piece with voice. Each guy has to nail his part or risk making the entire band sound unprepared. It's thrilling. It's scary. It's cool.
And, thankfully, with the addition of a wonderful keyboardist, it'll soon be a thing of the past.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Telling Stories, Taking Lives
Selling cover music to a crowd staring right at you and demanding truth and emotion and insisting you take them to a place in their past...
...is difficult.
Through my ravings I've said playing cover music isn't great art - and it isn't. I compared it to a paint-by-numbers version of the Mona Lisa - and it is. Cover musicians didn't create "The Exorcist" - we just decided to adapt it as a musical for people to enjoy their memories while we entertain them and keep them happy.
Still, if you're going to perform music that's important to someone, you'd better make it as real as possible. Music is life's signposts and markers, intimately intertwined with our emotions, events, places, times and people. Simply put, cover music evokes memories and is a guide to our past.
Heavy, right? Reality, though.
As a cover band musician, listeners depends on you to help them revisit an event, or a friend, or place or time, or an emotion. If you can't convey truth, they won't respond. They won't trust you. I mean, face it - we've ALL heard crappy cover bands doing plastic versions of songs - sure, the basic chords are there, but where's the "oomph?" The realism? The honesty?
The answer is simple, but the technique is hard. The musician HAS to find something in the song he or she can relate to, then tap into the emotion and apply it to the performance. For example, I'm furious about our government's hypocrisy and broken promises. I tap into that when singing "Pink Houses." I remember myself as a spazzy kid running around laughing myself silly and causing trouble for "I Wish." I'd tell you where the inspiration comes from for "Let's Get it On," but I don't want to name names.
My drummer pulls every drop of emotion out of "Can't Get It Out of My Head" due to events occurring in his life while we learned the song - and you FEEL that in his playing, from his tripleted fills "pulling" against the song's time to the openness of his backbeat. His drumming's filled with tension, then spaciousness and ultimately release. It's probably my favorite "drumming" song in our list, and it gets me every time.
As a singer, one of the greatest compliments I've received is when a listener - be it someone in the crowd or someone in a band - told me my singing gave him or her "chills." That's amazing to me, and it proves that tapping into MY emotion helps make cover music a communal, sharing experience.
You know, I often think of cover musicians as actors. We know how actors earn a living - a screenwriter creates a script. The actor studies these flat, two-dimensional words on paper and, under the director's instructions, makes the words come to life. You have to believe the actor lost a lover in a car accident, or is possessed by a dark spirit, or pushed his body to the breaking point in order to save the world.
Bringing life to words on a page, written by someone else - that's an actor's passion.
Bringing feeling and emotion to a tired song, telling a story and taking lives back to another place - that's the blessing and calling of a good cover musician.
...is difficult.
Through my ravings I've said playing cover music isn't great art - and it isn't. I compared it to a paint-by-numbers version of the Mona Lisa - and it is. Cover musicians didn't create "The Exorcist" - we just decided to adapt it as a musical for people to enjoy their memories while we entertain them and keep them happy.
Still, if you're going to perform music that's important to someone, you'd better make it as real as possible. Music is life's signposts and markers, intimately intertwined with our emotions, events, places, times and people. Simply put, cover music evokes memories and is a guide to our past.
Heavy, right? Reality, though.
As a cover band musician, listeners depends on you to help them revisit an event, or a friend, or place or time, or an emotion. If you can't convey truth, they won't respond. They won't trust you. I mean, face it - we've ALL heard crappy cover bands doing plastic versions of songs - sure, the basic chords are there, but where's the "oomph?" The realism? The honesty?
The answer is simple, but the technique is hard. The musician HAS to find something in the song he or she can relate to, then tap into the emotion and apply it to the performance. For example, I'm furious about our government's hypocrisy and broken promises. I tap into that when singing "Pink Houses." I remember myself as a spazzy kid running around laughing myself silly and causing trouble for "I Wish." I'd tell you where the inspiration comes from for "Let's Get it On," but I don't want to name names.
My drummer pulls every drop of emotion out of "Can't Get It Out of My Head" due to events occurring in his life while we learned the song - and you FEEL that in his playing, from his tripleted fills "pulling" against the song's time to the openness of his backbeat. His drumming's filled with tension, then spaciousness and ultimately release. It's probably my favorite "drumming" song in our list, and it gets me every time.
As a singer, one of the greatest compliments I've received is when a listener - be it someone in the crowd or someone in a band - told me my singing gave him or her "chills." That's amazing to me, and it proves that tapping into MY emotion helps make cover music a communal, sharing experience.
You know, I often think of cover musicians as actors. We know how actors earn a living - a screenwriter creates a script. The actor studies these flat, two-dimensional words on paper and, under the director's instructions, makes the words come to life. You have to believe the actor lost a lover in a car accident, or is possessed by a dark spirit, or pushed his body to the breaking point in order to save the world.
Bringing life to words on a page, written by someone else - that's an actor's passion.
Bringing feeling and emotion to a tired song, telling a story and taking lives back to another place - that's the blessing and calling of a good cover musician.
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