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Signs Of Success ( May 1994 )
People are very interesting. We create ways of increasing the productivity of farmers while being bombarded with weight-loss programs. We celebrate Independence Day, but we expect some government program or plan to solve all of our country's problems. And we equate success with fame and wealth.
I don't need to dwell on the fact that success is not measured in dollars or units, nor is it measurable at all. I truly wish success for everybody who reaches for it. Let's face it - if money were the indicator of success, just being born into money would mean that you're successful. Even the most materialistic person will agree that there is something other than money that distinguishes the successful person.
Personality: The successful musician has the desire to do a good job even if nobody is watching - you know, the type of performer who tries his hardest regardless of whether it is important to someone else. This type of person might be the one who insists on getting the correct notes on that cover tune for his band. Or it might be the bass player who spends extra time with the drummer to work out those little kicks and accents that never get the spotlight, but really make it feel good.
Vision: He has a clear picture of how to fit into the music business, even with all its traps for the unwary. He has no problem dealing with decisions about his career because he knows where he wants to be and won't turn away from that direction. This might be the drummer who points out that you should be planning to work up original tunes, even if it means finding a less profitable club gig at which to try them all out. Or it could be the singer who realizes doing four sets a night of screaming vocals hurts her chances of having a clear voice in the future. Maybe it's you, trying to talk your parents and friends into lending you money to pursue your dream of a musical education.
Cooperation: Like any team sport, being in a band requires teamwork. That means passing the ball, staying alert even when the spotlight is on someone else, and supporting your teammates. Picture yourself leading a blind person through a crowded room. You would want to make a path for them, push some items out of the way, and warn the person of things that can't be moved. Image your bandmate is trying to create an interesting solo - you should be up ahead making a clear and easy path for him/her to find his/her way, not just playing loudly and checking out the scenery. There are plenty of performers who have sold lots of records without the ability to cooperate, but I really believe the successful ones know how to work together. This might be personified by the successful session guitarist who writes the hook guitar riff for the three-chord chart that just got put in front of him, knowing that there's no way he'll get any credit for it. Or the keyboard player who stops playing for the first half of the guitar solo because it builds better this way. Or how about the guitarist who turns way down when the bass feature comes up, because he knows it's too fast of a cue for the soundman to catch in time to turn up the bass.
Work Habits: The main test here is whether the person can simply do what needs to be done. It sounds easy to say that phrase, but it is one of the biggest career killers around. Figuring out what needs to be done is having vision, but doing what you say you're going to do is inexplicably rare. Say you decide to practise two hours every day and something comes up during your planned practise time. Do you bend over backwards to make sure you finish practicing later? If you do, then you've got great work habits. Strive to make every promise come true - it will help you learn to say "no" (to distractions) when you realize that you must follow through with every commitment.
I guess I am going to dwell on this category a little bit because this is an absolute deal-breaker to me: If I'm supposed to work with someone who can't follow through on the things they said they would do, there is (so far) no amount of money that will make me want to continue. I believe that we can feed off the good qualities of the people that surround us. It is an absolute inspiration to work with creative, competent, trustworthy people - famous or not. It's the best part of my job to work with people who have these qualities. I also enjoy noting with upcoming folks in this business and show similar traits have all done very well and are sought after. There's something to that phrase we keep bringing up: "Take care of the music and the music will take care of you." Maybe the best way to take care of the music is by having vision, cooperation, dependability and the desire to do your best. You really can do it - if you want.
The Human Element ( October 1991 )
One of the reasons that people still go to concerts to see performers play is the human element. Obviously, most live concerts don't sound as polished as the CD that took hundreds of studio hours to perfect. The attraction must have to do with the fact that the show will be somewhat different from the record, as well as the opportunity to see the players in person. The audience also seems to place a high value on seeing the original players onstage, especially if the band has been around for a while. They want to see the characters who have been in the interviews, on television shows and records. For most of the people in the audience, the whole package is important. The whole package encompasses many things, but we'll just consider the human element for now.
Let's look at a common situation in a band. Average Joe plays bass and has been in the band from the beginning. He's not spectacular, but he helps write songs, book gigs, and is the first to notice when the band is headed in the wrong direction during rehearsal. Fast Freddy just moved to town and wants to join the band. He has the trendy clothes and can play real fast. The band starts to have secret meetings without Joe. The conversations among the other members might go something like this: "I'm telling you, this new guy's got the look - and he's fast!" - "Yeah, but Joe's been with us since our first gig. We can't just fire him." - "Aw, come off it! All the people who come to our gigs care about is how we look and how fast we are." - "If that's true, then why do they like certain songs more than others? And why do they really applaud when we play the song ideas that Joe came up with? You know, the ones that sound a little bit different." - "Just a coincidence. Without Joe, we would play all my song ideas and have a unified sound and skip all that other stuff. I tell you, if the front man looks good, the people just don't care. Besides, I know a manager who will sign us if we get Fast Freddy."
Okay, you know what happens next. Joe gets the axe. Fast Freddy replaces him, and the band starts to change. They start to sound and act no different from all the other bands in town. People who used to pay a cover charge to see them come in less often. By getting rid of Joe, they lost one of their best decision makers, as well as a songwriter who created checks and balances within the group. The human element in the band shifted.
I'm not saying nobody should ever be replaced in a band. The point is that there are millions of decisions to be made besides the playing when you have a group. If you've got a combination of personalities that gives you results, then stick with it for a while. Bands that stay together from their roots and make it big seem much more believable and have more character than some groups that are put together based on their individual statistics. The secret is to find a combination that works. Emphasis is on combination.
Maybe you need a person who wants their name up in lights to offset the constant experimenter who challenges the melodic songwriter, who is always being hounded by the protester for sounding too normal? If you are just playing in a weekend band and plan to keep it that way, I'm sure you already know that you look for band members based on their personality first, and playing second. Why? Because most people in weekend bands have regular jobs and have to make the most of every rehearsal. They play music as a hobby, an escape. They want t be around musicians who will do their homework, but not get so serious that they lose the fun of going out and playing.
If you've already got some people together with the same goals in mind, you should give it every chance to work before you kick someone out. Try to explore the strengths that everyone has, work on the common problems. The influence of one human being over another goes way beyond the licks they can play on their instrument. If you're all agreed that someone in the band has serious faults, try to take a good look at yourselves before you say anything. Still feel that way? If so, always give the unsuspecting person at least one chance to show serious effort to improve. If everything fails, and someone just has to be canned, give them the courtesy of pointing out that it was merely an unsuitable combination. Don't make them feel that they are unworthy. If you do, karma may have them becoming the perfect replacement for the next supergroup that won't let your band backstage.
Choosing A New Band Member ( March 1986 )
The subject of this column is particularly relevant because I just went through it. When you pick somebody new to join your band, you're taking a gamble. You've got to know that and they've got to know that. You never know how it's going to work until you're actually out there. But you try and hedge your bets and find the best gamble you can.
Listening to tapes is probably the first step. In my particular case there wasn't enough time to go through a bunch of tapes. What I did with the tapes I heard was to listen for the singer's range and pitch. Did I have to make excuses for what I heard on the tape? Sure, I could make excuses for the way the drums sounded and the mix, but when it came to what I was looking for -the voice- there were no problems. On a recording you should be able to perform pretty flawlessly, if what you're trying to sell is the performance. What you're saying is, here's how great I can sing or play when I have time to fix every note.
After hearing a tape, I asked some other people who had worked with this singer for a reference. I was lucky enough to be able to talk to a band he was on the road with for some months. I asked simple questions like, can he manage it on the road? Some people lose it. The road is one of those things that brings out the Mr. Hyde in some people. It can make you go out of control. I also asked if he was scared of the stage. Does he freak out? Can he do a show without overdoing it? In this case the answers were positive on all fronts. That still wouldn't do it completely, just like hearing a good tape wouldn't clinch it 100 percent either.
The next thing I did was set up a live audition. I gave this guy a tape with a song I wanted him to try and learn in one day. I chose "Book Of Dreams" because it had the highest vocal notes in it. I also thought it would be the easiest for his range and style. I wanted to try and make it easy for him. Then in the studio I made a mix of the song with everything except the lead vocals. He listened through headphones and sang along. That was a good approximation of playing under pressure. I wanted to see how well he sang in tune. If he could get past that with any semblance of style, then I knew he wasn't going to be intimidated. I put the pressure on by giving him some easy things to do in time, maybe a four- or eight-bar segment. Then I'd just count it off and see what happens when the pressure comes up. Would he throw his hands in the air and freak out? Would he try and fake it? Can he remember it? I like to find out all of those things, not that any of them is a disqualifying factor. I was just looking for more of the total picture.
The tape didn't tell me anything about his guitar playing. What was more important was to check his aptitude on the guitar. He made clear that while his chops were very dormant, his attitude was so great that it made up for the rusty chops. He remembered lines from 16 or 32 bars ago in the song we were just learning. I was impressed with his sense of time and ability to remember. That's just about all you need. If there's a part that's too hard and too fast we can always cut out a few notes here and there to simplify it. The main thing was whether the guy could feel the time and remember the parts without any problem. I was looking for an overall sense of musicianship, which was there. Everything was there except the chops, which you get from playing every day for hours. But I could tell by his attitude that he was going to get that back. And he did in a week! His attitude about working inspired a lot of confidence from the rest of the band. His name is Terry Brock and when you meet on the Rush tour, make him feel at home.
Adding our bassist, Jerry Peek, came about in a more common way. I heard him play several times, talked to him casually and just generally got to know him. This is a preferable way to meet someone. If you talk to somebody as one guy to another he is more apt to be natural, rather than when you're talking and he needs a job. Then he thinks, if I say the right things I'll get the job. Obviously, that's not a realistic situation. Anyway, one time as we were parting I asked if I could have his phone number, never figuring that I would be the one who would call him up. Every once in a while I meet people who are so amazing that I feel I would like to have a way to get in touch with them in the future. It was just in case somebody asked me if I knew an incredible bass player. It's a good feeling to put people together with gigs. He was just with a local band. They were good but he needed to be heard. That's why I thought if I had his number I could do him some good someday.
When I was putting the Steve Morse Band together with Rod, I put Jerry through the same kind of audition I just described. I asked him to learn a tune. He learned it so well straight from the record that I was amazed. Here was another guy with a good attitude that just won't quit.
The New Guy ( January 1993 )
Nice to meet you," I said. That was three days ago; now we're playing on stage at the first gig of this fall tour and it's going very well. How did this happen? Let me explain.
It came as a surprise that (violinist) Allan Sloane wouldn't be able to make the Dregs tour that was coming up, but we set out to find a replacement. Everyone that I knew of was already booked, but (keyboardist) T. Lavitz found out that Jerry Goodman of the original Mashavishnu Orchestra was available, so we started to get things rolling.
First order of business is usually to spend some time playing and checking compatibility, but my own trio was out on the road right up until the Dregs thing started. So our manager and Jerry's manager had a talk and made sure everybody was clear on the business end. Everything was quickly settled, and we then had to figure out how to make a miracle happen in the two-and-a-half days rehearsal time coming up.
Jerry was somewhat familiar with our sound, having heard a little bit here and there, so he knew that there would be plenty of complex violin lines. Someone sent him a tape of most the material we would be playing; at least that would get him dialed in little bit on the form of the songs. The problem was how to transcribe the violin parts in just a few days when they're blended in with the guitar on 90 minutes of music. My tendency to mix the violin in a blend with other instruments on the albums was now working against me. The good news was that Jerry is a trained musician and would have no problem reading music. So while I was home for a few hours before a gig, I went through all my handwritten music for the Dregs. I was in luck because I found quite a bit of useful music. Thanks to the miracle of the fax machine, the music got to Jerry quickly and he now had some solid footing to get a lot of the songs together. But our rehearsal would be starting in a few days.
Before we knew it, the guys were driving up to my place and we were exchanging greetings. More good news: Jerry turned out to be a very down-to-earth and easy-going guy. That's one personality type that always works in a group situation. After our crew set up the equipment we started at the beginning.
Jerry's first suggestion was that we try to go over everything the first day and make sure he had the right notes. Doing that took all the time we had the first day and still left us with a few things to do as homework. The second day was punctuated with the usual distractions and the phone calls that all-day rehearsals bring on, so we decided to have a long break for dinner and planned on an extended evening session as well. Throughout the second day we played the songs slowly as a group, with Rod (Morgenstein) tapping softly on the drums so we could hear the notes perfectly. I would frequently stop the band to make a point or double-check a phrase here and there.
By this time we knew that things were going to be fine, since Jerry was organizing every song into charts that would leave no doubt about his parts. The chart that I had faxed him contained a mixture of melody and chords with no explanation of when violin played what. His survival instincts were making him approach this in a very organized form.
The last day was a madhouse of equipment repairs, last minute changes, and even a photo session. One of the more important things that Jerry and I did was to go over every song and emphasize which parts absolutely had to be there, no matter what. The point I was making is that during most parts his lines were not crucial, whereas a violin solo was. This was designed to be a safety net psychologically. I could point to huge sections of complex music and say, "You only have to play these eight bars. The rest we can cover." We both knew that there wouldn't be a trainwreck if he dropped out for a section.
We did manage to play everything down as a group. Rod was anxious to play at regular volume, so we blasted away and felt pretty good. The next day was the first gig. What would it be like?
I remember the strained smiles of the opening act as they saw our soundcheck turn into a short rehearsal two hours before the doors opened. Our crew quickly cleaned up the stage and got them on in time to be happy. Later, in the dressing room just before the show, we did a quick verbal rundown of the spots to watch out for. I noticed Jerry had put all the music in order in a binder right before we walked out on stage. As we plugged in, I saw the little light on the music stand tucked off to the side. Time to play. The charts put him in the right place at the right time and his experience let him improvise on the solos with his eyes closed. The gig went great and we smiled and had a good time. (P.S.: He did play all of his lines that first night, too.)
Jamming - Part 1 ( December 1984 )
Here are some things to keep in mind whether you're jamming for fun or performance. The easiest thing to do is find some common ground in a song with an easy format that allows you to put solos in. When I jammed with Steve Howe we did "Freeway Jam" by Jeff Beck. It was an easy progression with a little variation and a lot of holes in it. I prefer to do an instrumental like what with a melody instead of just a straight blues progression. Don't avoid playing the blues, but don't just play a slow blues that starts with a solo and goes on until people leave the room ten minutes later. Go back to the old-time rock classics. Any Chuck Berry tune is good if you have vocals. For instrumentals I like "Red Baron" by Billy Cobham, or the Beck-Hammer tune "Blue Wind". "Little Wing" is great to jam on. It's got a repetitive chord progression that moves fairly slowly. It's always good to start with a tune that everyone's heard of. "All Along The Watchtower" is a great one because it's so easy to latch onto. "Moby Dick" by Led Zeppelin is a good song to jam because of the same reason. "In Memory Of Elizabeth Reed" is a standard jam tune down south. The solo section is all Am to D. These songs are all good to do because even if a person doesn't know the song, there are solo sections that are very easy to play over.
One rule of the road is deciding who is going to solo first. That eliminates the kind of confusion that happens at a four-way stop sign. Most people are prepared to yield and nobody goes because they're waiting for the other guy. So the first thing to do once you've decided on a song is to figure out who is going to play when, and if there's going to be any interactive playing. If you're just jamming in a room somewhere, try and remember the philosophy that the best conversationalist is the one who talks the least. For most people, when it seems they're playing rhythm all the time they're actually playing about 50/50 with the leads. Don't be a road hog; it turns people off.
Here are some observations I've made while jamming with other artist. I had the opportunity to play "Rock And Roll Hootchie Koo" with Rick Derringer. I had never played it before, but I had heard it. Luckily we were playing with musicians who could hear it in their minds and follow along. It was so smooth because Rick is very good at cueing people and taking up the slack. He sang, and through the vocal mike he would say, "One more time," or "Here we go to the bridge," or "I'm going first." He was a good square dance caller and all we had to do was keep our and ears open.
With Larry Coryell, I was there ten minutes before the show and he tried to give me his arrangement of Chick Corea's "Spain". It's a nice melody but it doesn't just fall into the C major scale. We did it anyway and I think we changed the tempo a few times. Larry is one of those people you can jam with without any preparation. He is pretty amazing and he's got great ears. He would call out the time for unison lines, but for most of the jam it was complete action-reaction. We'd go into chord progression that we had never played before and it was a case of radar ears. I would play a little pattern and he would pick up on it. It's fund to hand off a pattern to the other player. I've seen it happen easily, like with Larry, and we had a great time with it. With other people you may be sitting there playing a pattern 20 times until you give up in frustration and stay on one note. The one-note jam is useful and many funk tunes use it to good effect, but it can be boring after a while.
When I jammed with John McLaughlin, Al DiMeola and Paco DeLucia, they would choose from four different tunes and usually one of them was always the same. But there was no telling what the tempo would be. Sometimes there was a free section and they played according to how they felt. In that situation they were pretty much in charge. It was a situation that needed radar ears and what I did was very much like tip-toeing. They were all particular about what they heard. For instance, Paco would get mad if the rhythm wasn't strong enough. So if I felt like playing rhythm I would make sure it was in time and strong, but at the same time not so dense as to cover up what the others were doing. John would like it when you picked up on his harmonic variations. Al would play good solid rhythm and then solo. It was one or the other. He was like the drummer of the group. It was a bit crazy, but when you have four guitarists playing together, you're almost asking for it.
Jamming - Part 2 ( January 1985 )
The time we backed Albert Lee we had one rehearsal in the dressing room. We knew which of his tunes we were going to do and took them off of the records before we ever met. We also did "General Lee," which we played together on the Steve Morse Band Introduction album. The job here was to try to remember the forms of the tunes we'd never played before. The trick was to make people think we'd been playing them all the time. The way you learn the form of the tune influences the way you remember it. It helps a lot if you put the tune into big sections that are easily grouped together. Rod, our drummer, is a genius at it. Rod and Jerry (bass) can listen to something and immediately figure out a way of grouping the beats. For instance, on "Country Boy" there are measures of five, six or 10 beats. The first thing Rod did was to organize the rhythm structure of these little breaks. Then he would remember everything that was different from what he expected. If you have trouble remembering, all you have to do is make sure you can watch the leader's hands and just accent on the two and four. So when he goes to the C chord on one, you come in on two and four. I didn't have to do that with Albert, but I've had to do it other times when I was playing tunes that I had never heard before. I play on the upbeat for rhythm and leave a little gap when I solo. I have the last note drag over to the next chord change.
When I toured Europe with David Lindley and Richard Thompson, we had one night of rehearsal for a two hour concert. When you're working on a schedule like that it's almost an emergency situation. You have to shift your thinking from the nuances to the major material and rely on your musicianship to make it interesting. We didn't have any three-part harmony pieces in odd time signatures, but we did work up some fairly complex Irish fiddle tunes that Richard knew. The key thing here is to see what two out three people know. That reduces the risk of collision. Mainly we did tunes that the two of them had in common. I relied on my ability to remember and catch onto new material quickly. After seeing where everyone's influences were, I wrote a tune specifically for this trio.
When I jammed with Dickie Betts and his group we did "Southbound." Right before we started I asked the bass player for the signature lick. He told me it's played once in D, then it goes to G and back to D. I also know there are stops in the song, so I asked the drummer to cue me on them. As a general rule, bass players are good for finding out the chords because they almost always hit the root on one. This was another case of an experienced ring leader or master of ceremonies. Southern bands are really into sitting in with each other and the music leaves a lot of room for solos.
The whole idea of a jam is to have fun and hopefully create something musically that never existed before. You've got to feel confident enough to take a chance, to walk up to somebody on stage when the audience is very happy with what's been done so far, plug into an unfamiliar amp and follow them through tunes they know very well. I'd like to emphasize that when you go to jam with somebody you've got realize that you're not going to get the sound you're used to, especially if you're using somebody else's guitar and amp, which can happen. But it's no big deal. It's just a matter of remembering that music is music and most solo sections of any song that a band will let you jam on are going to be simple enough so that how you play is how it's going to come out. If you're a good player it will come out. It shouldn't be a heart-rending or nerve-racking experience. I've seen people force themselves to jam just because they felt they had to. It was not good. It's more fun when both parties want to do it.
The last thing I'd like to stress is the etiquette of jamming. If it's somebody else's stage and you are invited up to do a song, do the song, unplug and go. Don't say, "All right, what do we do next?" All too often, people invite themselves into situations. You've got to respect the fact that it's their stage and you're a temporary guest. It's the same thing when you're jamming behind closed doors. Be conscious of overplaying on top of the other players. At the same time, one nice thing about the guitar is that just two guitarists can have a great time and make really good music just jamming in a room.
Sitting In again ( September 1992 )
I read a lot of magazines myself, and I notice that some topics come up for discussion more than once over the years. I also notice that I don't seem to mind when I get a review of some information that I already might have read about the some time back. I'm hoping you folks will agree with me as I bring up a subject I wrote about a while ago. The subject is jamming, or sitting in.
I feel that it's a great thing to play with some friends, or even strangers, onstage, provided that the feeling is mutual. That is probably a good place to start this discussion. Is the feeling mutual?
I've seen situations where it was one-sided, and nothing good became of it. It could be that a band corners someone and forces him to sit in, and the guest is in no shape to play, or can't adjust to the strange instrument that's thrust in his hands. Or, it could be that the band agrees to let a pushy acquaintance onstage just to follow the path of least resistance.
Normally, the performer will ask the guest to sit in. Or the manager, roadie or promoter may notice that there's a potential guest in the wings. Still, someone on behalf of the performer should extend the invitation. No matter what the case, it should be something that everybody wants to do. Why? Because if it's a real jam, it's going to be experimental, and everybody has to accept the result.
If the music sounds really bad, the audience can't help but associate that result with everyone they see onstage. Musicians in the audience won't have any trouble understanding what did or didn't happen, but the crowd just judges overall feeling first. That also means that the crowd could be loving the fact that there is a spontaneous jam regardless of weird musical moments. That's why many guest spot happen on encores, when the audience is already in a positive, energetic mood. I guess my first point is to make sure everyone wants to do it, then let it happen without too much more worry.
The way I see it, doing anything creative on the spur of the moment brings you closer to honest expression. People love to see honest expression, although some appreciate it more than others. Still, it's a really good idea to get a very basic plan going before you start. The exception would be if everyone is coming from a purely improvisatory background. The plan might be simply to say blues in G, or cover a specific tune, or to begin your solo after the second chorus, or "I'll cue you when to wail." A little framework seems to work best.
Next, it would be good to mention who or what is going to cue the changes, solos and ending. If it's a band member, make sure they are able to read the audience to determine when to move on, when to wrap it up, when to bring it around one more time. A little direction at the right places makes the difference between an aimless, boring jam and an enjoyable guest spotlight. If you are already at the point where nobody wants to jam without rehearsing, you should try to loosen up a bit. Remember, a little bit of spontaneity is going to seem fresh, no matter what, if the rest of the show is totally planned out.
This is the part where I may repeat myself. I would really like to see musicians move around more, especially when they jam, I'm not talking about moving on the stage; I'm talking about moving in and out of the spotlight. This applies whether or not there is a spotlight. You know, I mean be musical; don't always be thrashing at the same volume and density. If the spotlight is on someone else, or it's their turn to solo, give it some room. Use common sense. If there's three rhythm instruments playing behind somebody singing or soloing, do you really need to stay cranked up at full solo volume? Do you even need to play at all? Probably not. When you're in a "Ton o' Musicians" jam, you should probably look for one accent every bar or two to play on-what way you'll be adding to the rhythm, instead of just grinding away.
If you need more convincing, remember that if you're the guy sitting in, the soundman isn't familiar with what you're going to be doing. If you're playing constantly, he's going to turn you way down so that the sound is familiar again. Oh yeah, sometimes they forget to turn you up for your solo. But if you're barely playing during other features, and adding punctuation here and there at a reduced volume, then you stand a much better chance of being heard when you let loose.
What if you really do need to accompany someone else's solo or melody? The solution is to simply do what's required. The first verse or the beginning of a solo section may find you not playing at all, in order to give some impact when you begin your rhythm. Try playing in the holes, where nothing else is, if you're wondering what to do. As the chorus hits, or the soloist builds in intensity, follow it with more energy if you can manage to stay a few notches behind them in volume.
People who listen a lot in a conversation are always rated as very good conversationalists, while those who dominate the conversation are the opposite. The obvious parallel is that the musician who just can't let someone else run with the ball is going to be no fun to play with.
If you're thinking that none of this is going to apply to you because you're always going to be prepared, think about this: Many groups that audition musicians place much more importance on how they handle a spontaneous section than if they know the stock material. You never know who's going to be listening when you sit in somewhere. Some guitarists have been hired based on their ability to edit themselves. And some guitarists have blown a big chance by playing too much. So move in, and out of, the spotlight.
Working With The Pros ( June 1994 )
I recently got another chance to work with a group of very talented musicians I mostly didn't even know before. It all started when I was asked to play at a presentation put on at a trade show in a concert theater. I felt like it would turn out fine when I learned that I would be playing with Jeff Baxter. Jeff had distinguished himself to me before as a guy to be on stage with. There were a few unknown factors, like what we would play and what equipment we would play through. That actually didn't bother me as much as the fact that the show would be recorded on video.
Any time I would start to worry about it, I would think, "It's going to be all right. I'm working with real pros on this one." Realistically, there was very little time to even think about this date because I had so much going on at the time in the studio. Jeff and I had a phone discussion which had us playing guitar synth sounds over the phone to each other. We decided to play some simple material and demonstrate some synth sounds on the solos and melodies. I would play banjo and sax, he would play organ and violin. We picked a bluegrass tune for the fiddle and banjo, and a slow blues shuffle for the organ and sax.
Upon arrival at the gig for sound-check/rehearsal I found everybody on the crew hard at work. They were moving stage pieces and zipping through line checks and lighting cues. The pace was noticeably quicker than that of a normal rock venue. While I was being introduced to everyone, I found out that I was in the company of the very top pros in nearly every field, especially the musicians.
What I would like to do is to point out some of the traits I noticed in these people that I think are particularly important. Like I said before, I found Jeff Baxter to be confident, helpful, and able to step in and make his point only when necessary. An example was when we all were asked to play a chart with the house band. Jeff immediately noticed that the section that was given to the guitars to solo over should be changed. A less experienced musician never would have spoken up like that, but because he did it immediately and matter-of-factly there was absolutely no problem.
That brings me to the next person, the keyboard player/musical director, Dave Goldblatt. He was responsible for the sound of a large ensemble, yet he seemed to be very relaxed and gave everyone the maximum room for their own interpretation. Several times he made comments to the band about parts but never appeared worried or under any stress. That also seemed to apply to the whole group - nobody gave off any negative energy. I still don't know if it was such an everyday event for them, but I suspect that the positive feel was an important part of the success of these guys.
Dave's chart was perfect for the part - simple enough, but interesting by way of some nice changes. I got that chart, by the way, just before we ran through it. The sax player, Steve Tavaglione, came up to me and offered a few pointers totally on his own initiative. He must have sensed something when he saw how seriously I looked at the cart the second I got it. Steve talked me through it real quick and really gave me a good head start on being comfortable. I apparently had the option of designing my own part for the song, but Steve assured me that he would be covering the main melody on the sax. I considered doubling his part until I heard him play it - it was absolutely just like a finished recording, every phrase. I quickly realized that my place would be to find a small niche to fit in with the rhythm section. That instantly got very easy when they added another drummer right behind where I was standing.
I turn around and there's Greg Bissonette, smiling and extending his hand. We shake hands and exchange greetings, and I'm getting more amazed by the minute. I've had the opportunity to play with Greg before and it was great. No need to worry about hearing the house band in the monitor, 20 feet away, in order to stay in time. Greg has exceptional timing, great ideas, and to top it off he is another very upbeat, positive person.
The drummer in the house band was Gary Novak. Besides also playing incredibly, I wish you could have seen how he and Greg worked out who would play what during some percussion fills. Each guy was totally respectful of the other, and when the time came, they stuck to the plan that was made verbally. No one seemed to step on anybody's toes.
The guitarist in the band, Mike Miller, was obviously a great player also. I heard him play some very nice solos during their rehearsal. Yet during the part with Jeff and me playing guitars as guests, he allowed himself to be totally supportive to help the show. The same goes for the bassist, John Pena. I heard him really rip through some stuff while they were jamming, but when the run-through for our material came, he absolutely nailed the feel of some simpler tunes. Both Mike and John were also very friendly, pleasant people. I don't know which comes first, the pleasant personality or the success, but I believe that loving what you do leads to your success.
One of the other guests, Delmar Brown, played on the final number with all of us. He was absolutely fearless. He accepted a section of the chart to solo over that was more difficult than any other, and he just laughed and said: "No problem." Did I mention that this whole thing was going to be recorded? It didn't phase him a bit as he strapped on his synth like a guitar. He was really fun to listen to, since he had a lot of phrasing like an electric guitarist. And, you guessed it - he was a very nice guy.
I also should mention that Paul Youngblood gave some outstanding technical assistance to Jeff and me, since we were new to these particular pieces of equipment. I'm not going to mention that he's a successful consultant, manage, hard-working, nice guy - but he is.
Sometimes it's difficult to put things into words that another person identify with, but I really want to make the point that every I came in contact with at this level of highly sought-after players - both this time and with others in the past - has had some amazing similarities in outlook. Maybe there's something to it.
Band Rehearsal - Part 1 ( March 1984 )
When it comes to band practise, the first thing you need is a place to play. That's the downfall of many bands. It can cause divorce, jail terms, all kinds of problems. The best place is anywhere you can play at full volume. The drummer hits harder and you can see what the amps can and cannot do, so you get a close simulation of reality. A big warehouse with a stage is great, but let's face it - the only people who can do that are those with gold records. The rest of us have to use a basement, garage or a rental property. Another possibility is renting a store-back after hours. In almost any place you wind up, you'll have to stop all the air leaks that you can. So cover the windows and insulate them. You can insulate with fiberglass over the windows and then cover them with some soft material. Basically, what you're trying to do is to deaden the room enough so your high end isn't bouncing all around. It takes a lot of engineering to keep the bass from resonating. If you're in a small room you'll have to keep the bass at a little lower volume, no matter what.
For bringing the guitar volume down to about half you'll need a master volume or a power attenuator, which will allow the entire amplifier to work, rather than just the preamp section. That way you don't have to change the tone too much. Second best would be blankets or somehow muting the speakers themselves. It changes the tone, but at least the distortion level stays the same as reality and you get an idea how to deal with different types of distortion. The master volume trip will work pretty well for single notes, but for chords it can be shaky. It depends. There are some amps with switchable channels which can do a pretty good job. I would rather have full volume or use a power attenuator. The only way to bring the drum down is to change the sound. A lot of people do things like putting sheets between the heads, or mufflers on the heads. Some put blankets around the drums. And there is the very obvious electronic drums, where you can put the whole band in the headphones.
Andy West and I made a rig with headphones about 12 years ago. Since we didn't have the same kind of distortion it was no good for jamming and getting the same sound. But it was very useful for late at night when you couldn't make any noise. Even the Mattel toy drum and a cheap headphone system with a multiple output would work, even if you can't give everybody their own mix. You can just put them in a little bit and use "Y" cords to come off even a stereo amplifier. Any kind of rig like that would be good for the band that wants to get a lot done and has to do some of their practicing while people are still awake in the neighborhood, and some after it's too late.
With electric guitars, if you don't have drums, you can play them acoustically at almost no volume and keep time by tapping your feet together. That's a real useful way to practice, unless you sing. A majority of the practicing or getting parts together in the Dregs was done at volumes that you could speak over. We turned up the to the point where we were just loed enough to be heard. Rod, our drummer, would sit and hit the floor.
This method keeps out ear fatigue and makes it more exciting when you turn the stuff up. Also, instead of a constant barrage of noise, the neigbors hear brief blasts. By being able to talk over the music you can hear your foot tapping, which immediately takes away any doubt about where the time is. You count 1, 2, 3, 4 with your foot tapping and the band can see and hear it. It helps place the parts in time. There are a lot of ways to rehearse parts, but when it comes down to trying out your arrangement, you need a place where you can play the drums and everthing full-out, because it's a whole different feeling.
You should prepare others in advance, if possible, with cassette tapes or music. That is unless the whole concept is experimental, in which case you'll need a lot more time. What I did with the Dregs was give people tiny snatches of the tunes. It would only be the technically hard parts of the melodies. All the easy parts we would learn on the spot. In other words, if there's one part where the bass does 32nd notes, I would just show him that part on tape before the rehearsal.
When you make tapes, make them with a metronome in the background so people can hear the time. That's very important. It may seem obvious to the composer, but it's never obvious to the other people, especially if there's any trickiness to the melody. First, put a tuning note on the tape so they can tune their instrument to the tape. If you have a piano player, hope they have a tunable machine or use a pitch fork. Turn on the metronome and count out loud, 1, 2, 3, 4 and play the part in time. Then play it half as fast, or even slower, just to get the notes, but keep referring to the real time part. Since the metronome is there all the time as background, you have something to play along with.
As far as writing parts out it's good experience and a good exercise for a lot of reasons that may be too obvious to mention, but it leads to a certain dependence by other musicians. If they lose that piece of music, you'll have to show them all over, or worse, they'll never break away from the music. If you give them a tape, they can't stop while the drums are playing ans say, wait a minute, let me turn on the tape. They have to know it to play it at all. They can't say, I'll just use the music in rehearsal and when we play a gig I won't use it. You'd be surprised how hard it is to tear somebody away from the music. On the other hand, the good aspects of using music as an exercise in sight reading and music writing would outweigh those disadvantages for those people who want to explore reading and writing music. Just be aware that people will become dependent on the piece of paper.
Band Rehearsal - Part 2 ( April 1984 )
A band will always have business to talk about. It's a good idea to set time aside in your rehearsal schedule, either before or after the actual practicing. It usually happens before, because that's when people are coming in and warming up and naturally just talking. With the Dregs, we used to get the talk out of the way, then we'd practise. It would sometimes take up to an hour, which brings me to the next point.
Arrange to have no calls or visits during the rehearsal. Do your internal business briefly, and don't take on any other business if you can help it. Don't let people call you, because you're wasting more time than just your own. When somebody has to stop for a call it's like an assembly line stopping. This also means no girlfriends, wives or buddies. Cut the cord, lock the door, don't let anybody come to the rehearsals to talk about this or that.
The rehearsal should be fun without going overboard. One way to do it is to have a little jam when you've finished talking. Just plug in and play for a few minutes. It helps everybody warm up and it's fun to do. It keeps the rehearsal from getting boring. Then, after everybody is warmed up, get into working on some pieces.
Before I forget, there is a basic set of rules of courtesy. One person tunes at a time. The drummer has the hardest job because he doesn't have to tune. He has to sit there and be still. While anything at all is happening you've got to make sure the volume on your instrument is off. Get in the habit of turning your volume off when you finish a tune. There are people who noodle around when you talk to them and it's infuriating. There's no reason to do that. Being on time for rehearsal can be another sore subject. The hardest thing about being in a band is the band itself. Surround yourself with compatible musicians who represent the kind of people you want to work with. The number one killer in a band is personality problems. If you're strictly business, you can set up a fine system.
In the old days people used to bring pencils and paper to rehearsals. Nowadays, for the kind of music most rock bands play, it's more useful to bring small tape recorders. Every time you get a small ensemble part done, just record it. That way everybody has something to listen to at home which reminds them of the arrangement. In rehearsal you should be experimenting with arrangements and different tempos, and you'll need something to take home to critique and to remind yourself of everything that was done. But don't record the whole rehearsal. Only record the five minutes that represent what you've done. That way it's easy to brush up and refresh your memory.
On the question of how long a rehearsal should be, it depends on the caliber of people, how serious they are and how strict your schedule is. For instance, at school we had one hour and 45 minutes for rehearsal, twice a week. We got quite a bit done because I would walk in with charts. The players could read and we could pretty much play them in a few minutes, changing the arrangement for the better. But that required a lot of work from me in advance. If you're able to allow four hours, one way or another you'll get something done. That allows for latecomers, business talk and a jam, and still gives you around three hours to practise and to take a short break. One short break is good. If the break encompasses getting something to eat, you might as well add another hour to the practice session.
The best thing to do is to set goals and time limits. Perhaps the rehearsal should be four hours with the ides of finishing off one tune. Keep putting that realistic goal in frint of you. One tune is plenty for a rehearsal, because there is so much to do. You need to experiment and you also need to work out the hard parts. Almost every band i've been in found one tune plenty to work on, unless it was a copy band. I've also been in copy bands where we did three or four or even 20 tunes in a day. But that's just getting by; that's not enhancing a tune.
When it comes to song arrangements, it's best to set up an agreement ahead of time as to how to settle discussions about tunes. For instance, you could vote in a democratic way. You could let the composer have the last word. You can have an open discussion and let the writer decide based on the evidence. But get everybody's viewpoint out because it's omportant for everybody to feel loke they're part of the group. The happier people are, the better they'll play.
Support ( February 1994 )
One interesting letter that I read recently was from a guy who was wondering what to do about his bandmates. It seems he was doing most or all of the mundane but necessary tasks and was getting no support from the other fellows. On top of this, he says, they complained about the money when he was the only one who could even get any gigs at all. By the way, does any of this sound familiar to any of you ?
It sure does to me. Putting together a working band involves more skills than just playing, although that's an important one. First of all, most folks are not ready to manage business affairs just because they finally get a paying gig doing what they enjoy. I can make a suggestion that might help: If somebody else in your group has a better feel for the business or logistics, there is no shame in letting them take the reins and try their hand. However, you should acknowledge their efforts with some form of reward. If you're working for peanuts or less, give them verbal support. Let them know that you appreciate the fact that they're spending the extra energy above and beyond. In fact, a little verbal support to everyone who helps us in our lives would really go far.
Let's say the drummer in your group is the go-getter of the bunch. Maybe he just booked a gig for the next month but you have to sell 100 tickets in order to just break even. Somebody's got to go out and sell those tickets, one by one. One way to think about the situation is this: The drummer has a knack for cutting deals with the promoter - nobody would give you a chance to even try a gig like he just got you. Think of it like when you take a guitar solo - you're in the spotlight, but the entire band is backing you up. So real life should imitate art. You-the-whole-band should back up the person who set up the situation that gives you an opportunity. I mean, the drummer got the shot, so everyone else should get on the phone and figure out how to sell those tickets. Support the initiative that was shown.
By the way, this idea of selling a block of tickets that the band has to purchase in advance is a form of "Pay to PLay". As if life isn't difficult enough, this is realistically what bands have to do in some cities in order to get to put on a show. From a promoter's point of view it's actually a very practical example of multi-level marketing. From a group's point of view, it pretty much stinks. If you do get an offer like this, beware of the real possibility of not coming out even because of expenses, no-shows, bounced checks, I.O.U.'s from friends, etc.
For another example, let's say your bass player says he's lined up a private party at his brother's fraternity for $ 200. There's four people in the band, it's only 75 miles to get there, so let's see... $ 50 apiece, right? After the gig is over, the bass player hands you $ 32. You give him a hard time instantly because your great head for business has already arrived at $ 50. Who's right? Well, as it turnes out, nobody owned a truck or van. The equipment got there magically after a 150-mile round trip - or was it that U-Haul trailer on the back of the bass player's car? And now that you think about it, you don't remember the band owning a P.A. system big enough for anything but rehearsal. Wonder if that might have cost something? And how about the guy that was mixing all night long? All in all it looks like some very shred deals were made just to show any profit at all on this one.
Imagine going through all the work to install a hitch on your car, cut pennies-on-the-dollar deals for equipment rental and line up help for the next to nothing, but then in your proud moment when you present the band with the actual cash profit, they give you crap about the money instead of cheering your efforts. Well, it happens all the time. It happens to managers, consultants, A & R people, parents - you name it. We all have seen cases of other people's extra efforts being taken for granted. Most of us have been on both sides of these kind of situations.
My advice? If someone in your group has the desire to make things happen that need to happen, treat them like the valuable commodity that they are. If they are carrying their weight musically and are putting in overtime on everyone's behalf, give them your thanks and respect because they deserve it. And if nobody is interested in helping make things happen, you just might have to start being the one who does.
To the guy that wrote about his band: What would you think if the whole band stopped playing and went for a beer every time you took a solo in a song? I'd look for some more reliable backup. Good luck, and thanks to all those out there that do walk the extra mile to get us on stage.
Getting Ready To Perform ( April 1991 )
I'd like to talk about getting ready to play a new tune, or playing with a new group, or jumping back onstage after a long time off. How do you know when you're ready? How can you best prepare for it?
First, in getting ready to perform a new tune for the first time, if you write the music, you obviously have a great advantage already. Either way, you need to be able to talk your way through the arrangement. For example: twice through the intro lick, one verse, guitar fill two bars,, verse, chorus, guitar solo ending with predetermined cue lick, chorus, chorus, end. Everyone in the band should be able to rattle it off like that without having to think about it too much. Many times a band will rehearse a tune over and over, when the biggest problem is that everyone doesn't remember the arrangement.
If the song has any tricky lines or fingerings, spend a few minutes each day just going over the hard parts so that you can play them without mistakes ten times in a row. That should give you a fighting chance when that hard lick pops up in the middle of the tune. I always like to remind myself of any special settings on amps or effects that would be different than usual. That's something else you'll have to suddenly do between tunes onstage, so mark the settings on the equipment. I like to use a black or white grease pencil (white shows up best in dim light). Also, try to arrange the set list so that you have a second to adjust the settings. One way to do that is to have someone else announce it, or make your adjustment while the keyboard is doing an intro.
Most musicians screw up a tune because of memory problems, so let's discuss that. Your memory can be triggered by external stimuli, and can also be restricted by distractions. To help learn a piece of music, I think you should play it from many different points of view. For example, try playing it at a reduced tempo setting, forcing your mind to step in to supplement what I call "finger memory". Finger memory is the most basic way to remember something; you learn the mechanical movements by rote. Another way to get your mind involved is to play the music in different voicings and fingerings. This way you are forced to recall what the notes are, not just finger patterns. Next is a powerful mind builder called visualization. Studies have shown that athletes can improve their performance in specific tasks by practicing it their mind, or "visualizing" it. This is the way I normally review and practice things when I'm traveling or unable to practice. Just visualize your guitar fretboard in your mind's eye and go through the entire piece slowly, imaging the sound of every note or chord. Anyone can do this to some extent, and that extent can be broadened by experience. If you're having trouble imaging what I'm talking about, picture the open strings of your guitar right now and play each string one at a time, and I'll bet you can hear the sound of each string. Incidentally, this open string visualization is one way that you can "learn" perfect pitch. You simply compare notes to the memorized pitches of your own instrument.
PLaying with a new group? You need to give special emphasis on being able to talk through the arrangements flawlessly. This is the most common screw-up when you suddenly play three sets of someone else's arrangements. Practice talking through the tunes while you're doing mundane tasks or driving to and from rehearsal. Be sure to mark the tunes where you need to change guitars, or settings or tunings, and tell the band leader to arrange the set to give you those breaks. The most imperative thing for a new member is to know the material inside out; almost anything else will be forgiven. We're assuming that you are able to handle the solos, but you should still try to keep them fairly simple, concentrating on delivering them with conviction. Once you're well established in the gig, you can get more experimental.
When you're practicing what seems like too many songs and you don't have the luxury of a comfortable time period, learn the arrangements in your head and concentrate on the difficult sections when you can pick up your guitar. Remember, when you get comfortable with visualization, you can practice anytime.
Getting Back In Shape ( May 1991 )
When you've been out of a regular schedule of gigs, how do you get yourself ready to perform again? How do you test yourself to see if you're ready? Let's say you had a band that did a lot of gigs over the summer, but then school or job put things on hold. Now, you've got people asking you to put the band back together and play some gigs two weeks away. What do you do?
First, don't assume anything. Make sure all members can rehearse and play the gigs. Next, make sure the details can be covered. For instance, is there transportation, a sound man, a road crew (if you're lucky), contracts? Is the equipment in good condition? Get someone you trust to take care of things like this if possible. That is called delegation. The main thing to remember about delegating duties is to make regular progress checks to make sure it's getting done. The more you successfully delegate, the more time you have for the music.
Schedule rehearsals right away. You'll get more done if you decide in advance which material needs to be reviewed or learned by everyone. This may seem obvious, but the music you work on should be stuff that everybody really loves. That makes it easy to keep everyone's interest up during practice. My opinion is that rehearsal sessions should be fairly short (figure about three hours) to give time for individual members to practice on their own, plus deal with all the other chores of a typical day.
When the band plays a song in practice, fix what needs to be fixed, but don't beat it into the ground. If someone needs to hear it a million times to remember the arrangement, play it through once on a cassette practice tape for him. If you want to hear yourself solo over one section over and over, maybe it's time for you to make a practice tape, too. Background vocals always sound lame? How about just working on them separately for a few minutes. Remember, fix the problems, then move on.
What about your personal practice? First review all the tunes by playing through them. If there's any spots where you hesitate or question what comes next, find the answer, then drill it. Without playing, think or talk through the arrangement. Then, play it through again.
Every time you come up against a technical section, note exactly where it gets difficult or tense. Now, go back and drill these sections by playing them slowly enough to hit every note perfectly ten times in a row. That's my own way to see if I know something. I say if you can't play something ten times in a row at slow speed, you don't know it yet. This brings up a problem I notice sometimes with musicians. They are blind to their own mistakes. When you try to play something slowly and find that you can't, there's something wrong. If it's all boring to you because you just want to rip, and who cares about playing slow, think about this: The quickest way to play something with speed is to teach your fingers to play it slowly, in perfect time. In fact, every time I sit down and work with a musician who's not quite making the part, I find he can't nail the part at a slow tempo.
Now you know all the tunes, have all the hard parts under your fingers, and the band sounds pretty good at rehearsal. When do you say you're ready? That's easy. It's when your time is up and the deadline arrives. That's when you go to the gig. Album projects, movies, books can all be improved on and redone, but most artists do their best until they run out of time or money. You're going to be playing a lot of gigs in your life and you've got to jump back in and do it.
The bottom line is this: Does everyone get off on the music when you run the tunes? Do you like the way it makes you feel? If so, then get out there and give the audience a chance to hear it. The best musicians are always refining and making the music better, even when there's no rehearsals. You learn more by going out and playing in front of people than any other way. You need that audience reaction to gauge the way your ideas are being received. If you're still worried about doing well and feel a little nervous, it means one thing: You've got the right stuff, because you care.
Jump Back ( August 1994 )
Have you ever had a bad experience involving music, like making a big mistake? Or not being able to come up with all the great ideas that seemed so easy at home, but were just nowhere to be found during your first big break on stage? Have you ever done an audition or tried to impress somebody with your playing and found out that it's totally different when everybody is just looking and listening to you? Have you ever written a totally embarrassing song but didn't think so until you saw everyone's reactions? Have you ever sat in with somebody and felt like you totally blew it? Have you ever seen purple and white elephants on stage? (I was just seeing if you still were paying attention.....)
Except for the last question, everybody I've known in music has experienced these things. The reason I know is because when these kinds of things happened to me (oh yeah, they still happen sometimes), I wondered if others had the same problems in the same situations. Now for a more important question: Have you ever felt like putting away your guitar for a while when some kind of bad experience happens? Or, at least, have you ever lost some of your enthusiasm? While generally we learn from our mistakes, it sometimes happens that we take a small failure (or perceived failure) too seriously. That's when we should take a lesson from the cowboys: Jump back on the horse that yo
God hates us all!
