It’s Not a C Until I Say It’s a C
Last night I got together with a group of guys from the neighborhood. They’ve been playing together for a few years, and I know them all pretty well. They had a bassist that—through God knows what—didn’t work out, which always gets weird... But I came in pretty familiar with the kind of songs they play, and sometimes you get lucky and it just locks in.
It’s so interesting having listened to them, done sound for them, and watched how they play together—how much changes when you put bass rooted in the harmony and time underneath it.
Their drummer isn’t a human metronome, but he’s got a really great groove. He’s a hilarious guy and it comes through in his playing. He’s just got the greatest spirit.
It also reminded me of my favorite Sting quote. When he was asked about playing bass and why he likes it, he said:
“It’s not a C until I say it’s a C.”
In this instance it’s so true. If you concentrate on the most essential rhythm—and the most essential basic harmony—you can bring so much to the music. And the greatest part for me is everyone in the band knows, and everyone in the crowd (when there’s a crowd) will know that something’s working. They won’t know who or what. Maybe a few people will know—there’s always one or two out of 50 that realize what’s going on—and for me that’s great.
You certainly want to be acknowledged, but a bassist is not a lead singer in the regard that I’m talking about. It’s this gift of playing bass that you get to come in and glue it all together, and then let everybody do what they’re doing with the freedom of not having to keep time or worry about the harmonic responsibility of the entire track.
And all this is to say that I just fucking love it.