Search This Blog

Yesteryear

Thursday, February 25, 2010

February 25, 2010

           I was redoing a computer at East Point, this is parking lot overlooking Sunny Isle bay. Some folks swear by winter, but give me this climate in February any time. It is chilly that turns into perfect if you stay in the sunshine. See if you can pick out my Taurus. It is truly on its last legs.
           The mystery trend of callouts continues, which makes me happy. I’m not rich, but at least I’m not having to pinch every penny like I’ve had to the past two years, never knowing month to month if I would have to shoulder the entire rent myself. I’m four months behind on my musical equipment so I’m anxious to at least purchase the new drum machine in the upcoming week if all keeps going well.
           I’m also weighing the options for a duo, as in to start my own. It would be bass and rhythm guitar only (no leads) over a drum track. Again, the only people I know with objections to drum machines are people who don’t know how to use them correctly. Which equates to most guitar players. I have some thoughts and solid experiences with duos that I’ll share today, hopefully you will agree. This is not new material, I’ve had this gameplan for mucho years.
           In a duo setting, there are two routes to take but I caution the reader that does not mean these routes are opposites. One route is to try to play music as technically correct as the studio-produced originals. We’ve all listened to these Eagles wannabe-type groups. Two guitarists battling things out on stage, or a guitarist with the attitude the other instrument is his “backup”. A variation on this same route is the “Wall of Sound”, with two keyboard players trying to emulate an orchestra. (My contention with that is when they walk off stage, the keyboards keep on playing.)
           The other route is to eliminate all notes and chords that do not contribute to the uniqueness of each tune, presenting to the audience only that which elicits their “mind’s-eye” of what they are hearing. This may sound like a “thin” presentation but not to anyone who has seen one of my hour-long bass solos. Rooms full of people singing along can attest to my dominance of this technique. That is correct, I can get an entire club join in to just my bass playing. Of course, the music is carefully chosen for that very purpose, but still, it more than proves my point.
           That is why a duo is, for me, a carefully considered situation. I’m not the type trying to do as little as possible on stage. But I want a guitarist who plays only intros and endings, everything else boils down to three beats (boom-chick, boom-chicka, and booma-chicka). To me, the perfect rhythm guitarist would play those chops with perfect precision, altering the timing slightly for each tune as dictated by the “feel” of the original. For the record, the best bands I’ve ever played in had a guitarist who understood the importance of this technique.
           Alas, my quest for such a local guitarist has been unsuccessful. I keep getting prima donnas who won’t (or can’t (same thing)) start their own group, but they sure as hell want to change yours. They get fired (by me) around the time they insist we play “Hotel California”. Typical that guitarists all want to play only music they busted their asses over to convince themselves they are good musicians. Sorry, it does not work like that. There are no soloists in my duos.
           Part of the problem is that words cannot describe what I mean. But I’ll tell you some of the tunes I specialize with, and if you can imagine a sold bass line behind a simple boom-chicka beat, I’ll wager you can “hear” the entire tune in your head. Think of “Stand By Me”, “Gimme One Reason” and “Fire”. I am the past master at carrying this concept to the extreme, and yes, I’ve had halls full of people dancing and singing to just me on bass with a drum machine keeping the rhythm. I’ve seen guitarists do it for a few minutes, but nothing like the hour-longs that I regularly muster.
           On a related vein, allow me to describe my band “philosophy”. A band is not a game to be played by a fixed set of rules, most of which seem to exist only in some guitar player’s brain. A band is a fixed distance that has to be covered by any means possible to ensure success. The reason so many bands take longer is because so many choose the wrong destination.
           What is, musically, the wrong destination? That is where some guy thinks, “I’m going to start a Blues band.” Or rock band, or ska band. It is a mistake that all intelligent musicians make usually once. When they are sixteen. I do not start theme bands, I merely choose not to ignore what the audience wants. And the lesson over the years is on a weekend, working people want to hear a 65% mix of country music. Do it my way, and you may find success with a two-year gig in some backwater pub. You might make $10,000 there, where others with their falootin’ ideas can’t last worth a dime.