The Bass Player Was Right
I had a bit of a revelation yesterday. I was looking up some local shows and clubs that promoters are putting on, and it occurred to me that I’m not really at my best when I’m completely on my own. Maybe it’s good, maybe it’s passable, maybe it’s kind of cool and has a vibe, but I really only seem to get there when I’m with somebody else; either by helping make what they do better by combination or pure collaboration.
There are so many examples of this throughout the years. And I think fundamentally, as somebody who’s always wanted to be a bass player, this is my thing.
When I think about work, life, family, and music, the best times I’ve had have usually been when I’m adding something to someone else’s whole. Being part of the thing that makes the thing better.
There’s an ego trap in there. You can go to the place where they wouldn’t be X without me, but then you have to remember that you’re there to help. To serve.
"Am I being helpful here?"
I think that’s really the question. That’s what satisfies them, me, and the situation.
This realization came after a really good Daphne Falls rehearsal and a week of working hard on bass for Buckdancer’s Choice. We’ve got a few challenging Grateful Dead songs. "Brown Eyed Women" is one. "Jack Straw" is another. These are songs where you have to get the timing right, but there’s also a lot of chordal motion. You’re constantly connecting chords and figuring out how to move between them. How many open notes can you play and still make it cool? Etc. It’s really good work and gratifying stuff.
And somewhere in all of that, I realized I can probably stop worrying about not having solo gigs.
That’s probably not my thing.
A friend years ago talked about two musicians who were incredible in bands. (Agreed--I saw them a lot.) They elevated everything and everyone around them. But when they did their own thing, it was kind of shockingly flat. Not because they weren’t talented, but because what they were best at was adding something special to a larger whole.
I think I knew exactly what he meant when he said it. And possibly he was giving me some advice.
It’s important to know where you can be at your best, especially in an age where everybody is supposed to have their own thing, their own brand, and all the other vomitous stuff that comes with that.
The funny part is that this realization also ties directly into production music. While there’s certainly artistry involved, it also relies on experience, knowledge, and being able to pull things together to help something else become what it needs to be. Maybe this is my 'solo gig.'
Feels like the bass player was right all along.