Bands are tough.

I’ve been in a ton of bands over the years, and none of them have been perfect. My current band is about as close as I’ve gotten.

There are varying measures of success when it comes to a band experience. Musical, performance, monetary, vibe, energy, following, critical appreciation, fame. Most people I know that play music are hobbyists with day jobs. I think many are people who “lived the dream” at least for a while, and then it became more important to be comfortable or to be there for the people who needed them than to continue chasing whatever musical dream they had.

I was never one of the people who could be comfortable “chasing the dream”. This is my fundamental obstacle to ever feeling like a “real artist”. I really did try to write good music and songs for a while, but it just got easier to be dad and play covers. That didn’t mean that I didn’t have expectations for the bands I played in.

Ignoring my occasional appearances at local bars in college, the first sort of “pro” band I played in was in Jacksonville in 1998 or so. A guy I knew from my day job at Convergys (yes, call center Hell…but it was steady and I needed steady at the time) had a band with a guy he knew that played guitar, and an assortment of other musicians, including a good keyboardist who was a doctor or something (I’m not sure I remember at this point), a tenor saxophonist, and some other assorted people. The idea with that band was to be a true party band, playing dance and funk songs, along with some poppy classic rock selections.

I had been playing bass sort of on the side of my guitar playing since about 1991-1992, really in earnest from about 1996 on, when I acquired my own bass (I call him “Juan Solo” because he is a black-and-white Mexican-made Fender Jazz Bass that sort of looks like Han Solo’s shirt/vest combo). I didn’t even own a proper bass amp. I used my Peavey PA system as my bass amp to be loud enough. It sounded pretty bad. I didn’t understand how to properly use the technology, and I really didn’t have the extra cash to spend on an amp at that point. The one gig I did play with that band, I borrowed my brother’s Fender M-80 combo, which was fine. But I was a mess as a member of that band. I didn’t really understand how to learn songs on the bass all that well, I couldn’t really read charts (though some were provided to me), and I was still sort of a hack bassist (though I definitely thought I was much better than I actually was – thanks, Dunning-Kruger effect). I did have a solid knowledge of what would work and what wouldn’t, though – I’ve always had good instincts about that. The whole process was kind of terrible, even though ultimately the people were quite nice. They were just very certain they knew things and I could clearly see, even at my intermediate beginner level at that point, that they didn’t have a clue what they didn’t understand about making a band work. At the time, I couldn’t bear to suffer fools or foolishness when it came to music, so I was vocal and probably made things less fun for a lot of people. I quit the band shortly after the first gig I played. I think at the time I just wanted to learn how to be a good, grooving bassist, and I figured the band would be a good way to learn. But I wasn’t ready, they were the wrong people, the material was kind of all over the place and wrong, and the opportunity just didn’t really present itself. So I left. The timing was wrong. Our motivations didn’t match.

Cut to the following year.

A co-worker of mine says he and his buddy want to start a band and they need a bassist and drummer. I didn’t know a drummer, but I was definitely into the concept of playing some bass. So they found a drummer through the Folio Weekly classifieds, we met at a bar, and we all got along so well that before even playing a note we decided we were a band. Thankfully, playing together we had immediate chemistry, so all was well. We picked songs and worked on repertoire from April through July, and all was going well until the singer (my friend from work) had to quit. His day job had gotten too busy and he wasn’t going to be available for gigs. So we found another singer, and thankfully once he knocked off some rust we were ready to go. We named the band, and started to play some shows. It was musically very fun because the drummer and were a machine – I learned so much playing with him. Plus we were playing a lot of songs that people liked that also happened to be songs I really wanted to play. I got to sing a few songs, and sing harmonies on a lot of other ones. We were truly all on the same page and moving it forward. And it was FUN. We’d have our ups and downs, and the singer would eventually leave because of some personal stuff and we’d get a new one who’s still one of my best friends. But it could have been better if everyone had been on the same page at the same time. That was always an issue with that band. Sadly it would end without my consent, though, and though that group definitely had its issues, we’d all do a reunion in 2015 and have a great time together one last time (as Trumpitis has apparently infected the brain and heart of one of the members and he doesn’t want to associate with me anymore because he doesn’t like my sassy liberal opinions).

About a month before that band was “taken” from me, I had auditioned for another band when their main vocalist/guitarist left, and it came down to me and one other guy, and though musically my rehearsal was awesome, great chemistry, they were worried about my involvement in that other band and how much time I’d have, and didn’t really believe in me image-wise compared to the other guy, so they went with him. Five months later half the band decided to leave. I’m not saying the two are related, but I think if they’d been satisfied musically and fed off my live performance energy, it might have been a different situation. The weirdest part, to me, was that when the guys were quitting (bass player and lead guitarist – the ones I auditioned with), I filled in on bass for them for a couple of shows before joining the band as a guitarist after that. So January wasn’t the time, but May was. Timing.

I have to be honest, it wasn’t the way I wanted things to be. The departing guitarist and bassist were two of my favorite local musicians. Sadly it was always a little tough finding ways to get along and properly communicate with the guy they picked in January as we shared guitar and vocal duties, and I know I made the experience suck a little for my dear friend (the drummer and bandleader), and I’ve apologized to him for it. Eventually that guy bailed on us and we had to find a replacement, and right as we figured out the new lineup, I moved to Austin. Timing. (Boo.)

During this period, I also hand-picked a band with my favorite local guys – the drummer who also had the band stolen away from him, and the bassist who had just left the last band I talked about. We found a very talented keyboardist and decided to hit a jam night. It was so much fun, we decided to try and turn it into a band. Instead of having a singular purpose or a set sound, we decided to try and be a “kitchen sink” sort of thing, and play as many different kinds of songs as we could find – stuff no other bands were really playing, but were familiar and popular. We picked individual wishlists of songs, and then tried to be democratic about it, and when it didn’t seem to be going the way of the bassist’s selections, he decided he wasn’t all that into it anymore and left. It broke my heart. I didn’t handle it very well, because I thought his ideas were rightfully being downplayed, as those choices didn’t really fit our abilities and were very medium-to-low energy and not friendly to bar crowds (our goal). We puttered along, got a new (and inferior) bassist, and we all kind of stopped giving a shit, so it just died. The motivation was gone.

When I moved to Austin the following year, I struggled to find people to play with because I simply didn’t know how to go about meeting other musicians in a way that would make them want to play with me. There weren’t really jam nights like the ones that are all over the place in Austin now. So I took to the internet! And in about a month, I found a band that seemed interesting, so I met the guitarist, saw a show, saw how terrible their bassist was they were trying to replace, and had one rehearsal with the band, and apparently made a bad impression – the rest of the band were NOT on board, though the guitarist and I clicked (and are still great friends). So I met some other people who were also interested in replacing their bassist, played with them a few times, but decided that the drive to practice was too far (about an hour each way without traffic) and the karma of getting someone kicked out of the band was too much for me. I did meet one of my favorite people in this band, so that was nice. I stayed friendly with them, though, and would support them at shows.

I finally found a band to join, and it just didn’t really work for me. The vibe was weird at first, because the drummer they had kind of sucked, which frustrated the guitarist to the point of rage at times, and the musical repertoire just wasn’t really up my alley, though it was a refreshing change, at least for a little while, and especially once they lured their drummer back with my presence. And of course, he comes back, and I ended up quitting (we’re still buds to this day, actually…more on him later). My motivation was gone.

I felt really bad to bail, but I really just wasn’t loving the situation in any way – we played in smoky, sort of trashy bars, with low pay that kept it from really being worth the time invested – so when the first (and far inferior, musically) Austin band came back to me to fill in for some shows, and we had more rehearsals and the two who didn’t like me finally “got it”, I was on to the next thing. In June it wasn’t right, but in September, it was good. Timing.

When the drummer quit that band, I had my buddy from the other band (the one who had come back because I was in the band) fill in for the new band. It went pretty well, we had a great hang after, but ultimately we found a different person to play with us more suited to our modern rock-pop-punk sort of style. As that style evolved over the years, we had many drummer changes, and it eventually became a trio, and finally my buddy came in and killed it. We finally were playing together and the band was doing well. At least for a while. Then the crowds sort of thinned, the motivation started to fade, and ultimately, we let the band go. But those guys are still my best friends here in town. I love them and miss them and will give them manly hugs next time I see them when it’s safe.

I have so many more timing and motivation stories, but I think I’ve made my point.

Bands are tough.

Sometimes the timing is right, sometimes not. Sometimes the motivation is there, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes you luck out and everyone’s available and on the same page and you have a unified mission. That’s been the story for my current band for pretty much the entire time leading up to the pandemic. And thankfully, it seems like we’re all getting back on the same page again, but without an idea of when gigs are coming, it’s hard to maintain momentum and hard to keep that motivation. We did our awesome cover, we’ve done a few little livestream things (and a livestream concert that was less than awesome), and we’ve done a lot of talking without doing a lot of actual things for the past few months. I don’t believe anyone wants it to slip away, but that’s always a danger when you don’t keep at it, so we did a rehearsal the other night, and basically wrote our version of a new song to add, and brought back a classic and one we’d only really done in practice. We’re on our way, once again.

If only we can get this country to stay home if they can (or at the very least physically distance with masks) and stop going around infecting each other and putting people in the hospital, we can get back to adoring crowds singing their lungs out with us at our favorite venues.

But sadly, now is not the time…

(see what I did there?)

Black lives matter. Trump lost. Wear a mask. Wash your hands. Physically distance. Respect facts. Respect expertise. Realize you don’t actually know shit. Be humble, avoid hubris. And love people, for fuck’s sake, instead of always looking for things to hate.

Also: Call your mom and dad and family and friends and do video chats and tell them you love them. They need you, and you need them more than you know.

That’s enough for now. Thank you for your time, and peace be the journey!

TMS