For those who note I tend to be top-heavy on music principles, there is a reason for that. I’ve long learned that bands who have note-for-note perfection are a sterile listening experience. What I’m watching for is can the band absorb stage errors gracefully and carry on? And we’ve done it. Nearby is a photo of the view toward the dancing area. Yes, this is winter in Florida.
Otherwise, it was a respectable first paying gig and we earned what we got. The main activity of was inside the bar, where the regulars hang out. Outside it was muggy weather but our crowd was roughly twenty people. However, my old accounting eye tells me it was a constantly circulating group and sure enough, the tiki bar reported a record “two thousand dollar night”. From what I could see, that was probably what the server made in tips. After the first few tunes, we had them eating out of our hands.
What are my observations? I know they’ll want us back but the tip bucket was empty. Or like, twelve bucks. We had a largely captive audience, I judge this by whether the crowd turns back to their tables, or watches the band. But it is month’s end in a working-class burb and everybody was holding back. However, we need only two such gigs a month to keep me interested. As for the music, I see our extensive song list is needed for several reasons. Here's two of them. The band tends to gallop, that is, play everything a little too fast. And, there is no real gap between songs, so we burn up ten or more songs every set instead of the orthodox eight.
I instantly picked up this bar would be a dynamite country music location. It isn’t all old rock with the new singer, who turns out to be a June Carter fan, and a little Patsy Cline. She may be the vector that gets this band to try some country, since I know they absolutely refuse to even countenance anything of the kind from my direction. But ha, even though it was a mere smattering, I got more individual applause than any of them when the band members were introduced. Neener, neener. Of course, I’m not bragging, because it happens so often. Ahem.
Part of my show involves getting the audience to listen to a favorite oldie with a slightly different edge, one where they say to themselves that they somehow must have overlooked such a neat bass line. That would describe most of my playing style, and you bet it went over great tonight. But, there is no doubt I need a more powerful amplifier, at least in the 150 watt range. It was not me but the crowd which kept saying to turn up the bass and the band heard this. My Ampeg was already cranked to the maximum. That’s a mixed signal, gang--when this happens, does the band really want me any louder? Hmmmm.
The new singer picked up on that, turns out she is Canadian. People just plain talk to me. I explained it away saying it was because I sit off to one side to relax where the rest of the band hangs in a group. They’ve also been together longer and bring their wives and families along. How can I word this? Let’s say they are a “matching set”. Also, I think I’m the only one in the band who speaks any Spanish. There was a batarista (drummer) from a Latino band there who wanted his picture taken with us and I could barely follow his Guatemalan accent. I’m sure he said they play “Pink Floyd, but Spanish is tough enough without a Mayan backwoods accent.
Am I happy? Yes. Yet it all does little to assuage my concerns of finding a [successful] venue for this group. The money was good, but only if you ignore the immense tally of hours put into this thing. My hopeful side says it was a Legion, and that is one of the few big-paying outfits left on-shore in Florida. Please, let the word get around. I’ll stick with my backup plans but I knew not long after my heart troubles, music was never again going to be a full-time job for me. That means fewer higher paying gigs, or more low-stress duo bookings.
Anything else? Well, other than pointing out how once again the band at large draws different and often opposite conclusions from otherwise identical experiences, I would like to offer an explanation of why the audiences are so receptive to my bass playing. It’s easy to understand. Not that many people specifically listen to a bass line in a piece of music, unless it is sort of fancy or a flourish now and then. When I play, you will hear a bass line that has been thoroughly thought through and reassembled to capture the feel of the piece.
The other side of that coin is that even the best of guitarists will find the crowd is already familiar with what they do. The listeners pre-expect a fine job of it and don’t jump for joy. On the other hand, what I do on the bass is all new material and I know it. Because I invented what I do. In this manner of guitar and bass situation, I sparkle. It is a deliberate stage tactic, but I keep it so subtle and refined that I’ve never been accused of stealing anyone’s thunder. One day I may, but not so far.
The big picture? Let me think. Okay, when the audience says to turn up the bass all the better to hear me with, well, that doesn’t say it all. Just most of it.
