Do I Play Guitar, or Do I Play Bass? YES. I Do, and So Should You.

I have always noticed that a lot of my fellow guitarists have wildly varying and sometimes very dismissive, dickish attitudes about a band member most bands cannot exist (or exist AND sound "decent") without: the bass player.

Everyone's heard the shitty guitar player jokes about bassists...

"What, six strings too much for them?"

"What do you call a guitarist who can't play? A bassist!"

"How do you reduce wind-drag on a bassist's car? Take the Domino's Pizza sign off the roof!"

"What do you throw a drowning bass player? His amp."

"Why don't bass players tell blonde jokes? They don't understand them."

"What do you call a beautiful woman on a bassist's arm? A tattoo."

"What's the difference between a vacuum cleaner and a bassist? The vacuum cleaner has to be plugged in to suck."

"How can you tell when the stage is perfectly level? Drool comes out both sides of the bass player's mouth."

"What do you call a bass player in a 3-piece suit? The Defendant."

"What do you call a bass player without a girlfriend? Homeless."

"How do you get a bass player to turn down? Put sheet music in front of him."

"Did you hear about the drummer who locked his keys in the car? It took him three hours to get the bass player out."

There. Happy? Get that out of your system? Good. Now readjust that shitty attitude and start appreciating what a bassist adds to your band or project. You're not a dumb kid anymore, and you should stop and ask yourself: what would I do without a bass of some sort in my band?

When I was 15, about to turn 16, I was working during the summer at a mom-n-pop guitar shop in Clemson (one of SC's better-known "college towns"), and the owner of the store's son got offered a gig up the street doing a two-nighter at a wing bar right across from campus, and he was originally just going to just use one of his iterations of his "band" (translation: whatever available musicians were available who wanted to make a few easy bucks any given weekend). But his go-to bass player (a guy only a couple years my senior who couldn't stay out of trouble of the cringiest kind) was "indisposed" (translation: "presumably in jail this time for doing something dumb"), so he asked if I wanted a go at it. I was an absolute halfass on guitar, only knew a few bad power-chord renditions of a handful of songs (mostly first-gen punk, a couple grunge songs and a couple awful versions of some classics), but I thought to myself, "sure, it's fewer strings, so how hard can it be?" Famous (and colossally idiotic) last words of the naïve and inexperienced, I know.

He went through his "set list" (a hodgepodge of a few blues tunes, some classic rock and oldies, and a handful of fairly simple original songs), and I took a few notes. "Hey Joe" by Hendrix? Sure. "Voodoo Child"? No problem, I can hack my way through it. Led Zeppelin's "The Lemon Song"? Yup. Thankfully, as I've found has usually been the case ever since, the set list was made up of songs that I might not necessarily know how to play, but was familiar enough with so that once I got the main notes in my head, I could "pass" as a rudimentary bass player. It was a Tuesday, and the gig was to span the upcoming Friday and Saturday nights. So I had a couple days to bust my ass and learn a few blues bass patterns, memorize some chord progressions to play alongside and get my fingers as ready as they were going to be for my first "professional gig".

Gigs went fine, the drummer was a super cool older fellow who helped me learn how to lock-in with the kick drum, and who gave me sage advice that I still hold valuable to this day. That man was Freddie Wooten (of Palmetto Drums fame), and he told me, matter-of-factly--and I am paraphrasing but the concept is spot-on what he said-- to never forget when you're playing gigs that "95% of your audience won't know really how "good" you are or aren't, so long as you aren't flat-out blowing it" (and in my experiences, sometimes they can't even tell when you ARE blowing it), "so just play your heart out and have fun, and they're gonna' love it". Freddie is still a friend all these years later and I love him dearly for his mentorship. I hope one day before either of us moves on to that next plane of existence we get a chance to play together again. So thanks to Freddie's coaching and my own built-in angst as a teenager whose parents were in the middle of an uncomfortable (but thankfully temporary) separation, I made it out the other side, having gained some street cred and a lot of self-confidence that I'd previously been missing.

My fingers had big blisters on them and my hands were so wrecked that I didn't want to touch a guitar for 4 or 5 days afterwards, but it was so satisfying and rewarding. 30 years later and I still enjoy playing bass every bit as much as guitar (sometimes MORE so), have learned a lot over the years about voicings, melody/countermelody, feel and attack, and obviously hold far more respect for any bass players I collaborate with than the average douchebag guitarist who denigrates bassists as somehow "less than" guitarists or "guys who can't hack it on a guitar". Often the bass gigs are more lucrative, and I've come to really appreciate the importance of being a competent on-call bassist.

At the end of 2023, I was recruited to join a steady-gigging private-events band on bass. Well, that was the original intent, anyways. Because the group has a list of "stand-ins" so that they don't have to cancel gigs should a member be unable to make it, I also made it known that I could play guitar so I could remain on that main rotation. I've since been basically given all main guitar duties--which is fine, I'm not complaining that my guitar skills are in demand, please don't misunderstand me--but I'd be remiss not to say that I was kind of looking forward to the simplicity of just lugging around a single bass in a gigbag to shows (all their stuff runs direct so no amps to schlep around), playing some tasty basslines, and getting that paycheck.

One of the things I loved about playing bass with that project is that sometimes, if I'm being completely honest, when I'm playing songs I'm not entirely thrilled about, I find the bass parts to be much more interesting or even challenging, and often more FUN than plinking around on guitar during songs I just don't really "feel". There are many songs out there that I genuinely DISlike, or flat-out hate, but if I'm playing bass on them, I can get lost in a different place. Especially when I'm having to slog through some cheesyass overplayed song that makes me sick to my stomach to even listen to, let alone play--I'm looking at you, "Sweet Home Alabama" and "Hotel California", and all your ilk--I just find the bass parts far more intriguing. I don't have to force myself to play a guitar riff or solo I detest, and instead I can listen to the drummer and pretend I'm playing something completely different in my head canon. Yes, I'm still playing the actual song, but something about playing it as part of the rhythm section makes it less corny for me. I feel like a sellout when I'm playing those kinds of songs on the guitar. And don't you dare fucking ask me to sing backup on that horseshit. But somehow when I'm locking in that bass groove, I can get over having to play crappy music to a certain degree.

In a future blog, I may address in depth what it means to "play bass like a bass, and not like a guitar", because that's also a consideration when one decides to bring the thunder. You don't just "play the root" on everything, and you have to make sure you're playing with your drummer. At the same time, don't suddenly start pulling out all your little tricks you goof off at Guitar Center with either. Not every song needs slap-bass, and Flea, you are not. Just play the song. Listen to solid bassists like Cliff Williams, Dusty Hill, Kim Deal, Tina Weymouth and Michael Anthony, who are deceptively simple in their approach (but isolate their tracks to hear how damn GOOD they really are). But also listen to Andy Fraser, John Entwistle, Geezer Butler, John Paul Jones and Geddy Lee, and pay attention to the "extras". All of these players give the bass its own voice, and do way more for the songs than just "double the guitar". With the usual guitarist-filling-in-on-bass, it's painfully obvious to me, watching them schizophrenically go from oversimplifying the bass parts to trying too hard to impress people, and I can't take them seriously because they're mocking the fundamentals of the instrument.

The biggest issue I see though, is the irrational phobia a lot of guitarists seem to have about playing bass. You either get the ones who think they're "lowering themselves" by performing bass duties, or the ones who can't wrap themselves around how to play the bass entirely. You can tell them all day long that the strings are the same as the lowest four strings on their guitar, and the notes on the fretboard also are the exact same notes as on their guitar (just an octave lower), but their eyes glass-over and they look more confused than the dog listening to your voice on the answering machine. It's still a BASS GUITAR. It's not like someone's trying to get you to understand a woodwind or a steel drum. Quit pretending to be obtuse thinking it will save you from the dreaded bass guitar position. Look, guys: the bass is a respected, necessary instrument in almost ever style of music to some degree or another, and you really need to just get over either the idea that your ability to play guitar is somehow "superior" to bass, or conversely, get over the idea that they're inherently so different that you can't wrap your mind around what to do on a bass. And a big ol' middle-finger goes out to any of you egotistical shredder trash who think you're simply "too good" to bother with bass. Keep playing in your bedroom and whinging online about how you can't "find a good band".

Make yourself a valuable musician for your band, or give yourself an additional tool for songwriting, recording, gigging and overall enjoyment. Just pick up the bass. There's nothing to fear, and there is no more negative a blot on one's escutcheon for playing bass than there is for being an insufferable douchebag guitar player. Cut the shit.

I'll close with a vindicating joke FOR my bass playing homies out there, which might be oversimplified, but hammers the point home that a mediocre bassist is more useful than a hundred mediocre guitarists:

A man buys his son a bass for his birthday, and also pays for 5 lessons. After the first lesson, the boy comes home and the Dad asks "What did you learn today?" "I learned the first 5 notes on the E string." the son says proudly. After the second lesson, the dad asks "What did you learn this time?" "I learned the first 5 notes on the A string." the boy says. After the third lesson, the Dad waits at home for hours and hours. Finally, around 2am, the son comes home, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes. "Where the hell have you been?!" the Dad demands. "I had a gig," says the son.

Goodnight, everybody...

Centaur'd 'n' Feathered : The Comically Frivolous and Hypocritical Litigation Between "Klon LLC" and Behringer (Music Tribe)

What's REALLY fueling KLON-gate???

 This one's so wacky I had to change up my schedule and post something. In case you haven't been paying attention, Bill Finnegan (under the alias of "KLONLLC") is currently trying to sue Behringer (parent company is Music Tribe) for IP infringement of their on again/off again (i.e. Bill makes one every once in a while when he feels like it or needs a few months rent or something) "legendary" pedal that they call the "Centaur". To catch up the new kids, a little about the Klon Centaur first:

The Klon Centaur is an overdrive guitar pedal designed by Bill Finnegan in the 1990s, known for its "transparent and harmonically rich" tone. It was first sold in 1994 and quickly gained popularity for its ability to boost a guitar's signal without significantly altering its core tone. Due to its unique design and limited production, the Klon Centaur became highly sought-after, with used units fetching high prices on the secondary market. 

In the late ‘80s, Bill Finnegan was gigging bars and clubs in Boston when he noticed that sound engineers were asking him to turn the volume down at smaller venues. He played a Telecaster through a Fender Tweed Twin, and says that the ‘sweet spot’ on his amp was around 6 or 7 on the volume knob. When in-house engineers forced him to turn down to 3 or 4, he lost the harmonic richness of the amp. To remedy this, he tried using a vintage TS9 Tube Screamer to replicate that natural tube distortion sound. However, “[The TS9] compressed the transient response of the original signal a lot, had a midrange character that I didn’t like, and subtracted a noticeable amount of bass response from the signal as well”, he told Premier Guitar in 2014.

Finnegan then set out to create an overdrive pedal that would bring all the richness and dynamics of a cranked amp at lower volumes. Together with MIT graduate Fred Fenning, he sought to invent a new type of overdrive, completely different from the Tube Screamer. And in 1994, after several years in development, he released the Klon Centaur Professional Overdrive. It was met with instant critical success. Every pedal was built by Finnegan’s own hands, and the circuitry remained a closely guarded secret as he covered every circuit board with black epoxy. It purportedly took Finnegan 12 to 14 weeks to fulfill each order, and used Centaur pedals were selling for disgustingly-inflated prices. This placed more pressure on Finnegan to meet demand. Finnegan claimed his profit margin was "not very sensible" (which is wild considering that he was selling pedals for more than the average "independent short-run pedal builder" you see on Reverb or Etsy), and he cited difficulty in hiring employees to expand the business in Boston, where commercial space was expensive.

This "mythical" circuit remained uncopied for over a decade until 2008, when its secrets were revealed to the world, and [coincidentally or not so much?] Finnegan decided his situation was unsustainable and he discontinued the Centaur. He declined large requests to make more, but continued to make them for someone he claimed was "a close friend", purportedly "a single mother who needed financial support", to sell on eBay. I can neither confirm nor disprove this arrangement, but nevertheless, "Klon" was no longer an "official" entity, and was not producing inventory of their products until the short-lived "Klon KTR" was introduced in 2014  as an "updated version"--it was said that the goal was to create a straightforward design that could be built by a contracted manufacturing firm and would be easy to repair, among other considerations, while preserving the Centaur sound. The Klon KTR took two years to design and sold for $269, and was discontinued in I believe 2020 or 2021 entirely...okay, maybe not "entirely", if we count the occasional single unit put up on eBay alongside one-offs of the classic Centaur, with both fetching utterly vulgar winning bids.

As of 2019, used Centaurs sold for between $1,900 and $2,500 USD. As of 2024, they sold for up to $20,000 USD. And two months ago, a  "new build" Klon (#RG 019) sold for $6,200. Free shipping though, what a saint. Yes, someone paid over six grand for a new "official clone" of a Klon. Wild shit, amirite? I should also add that aside from these occasional popup sales of a one-off Klon, the social media pages have been largely quiet for quite some time aside from some photos that looked like older "glamour shots". OK, so now to the current story...

In  November of last year, Behringer dropped their take on the circuit. Behringer is quite famous for utilizing copycat components to bring sought-after circuits into the hands of players of ALL financial stations, reasonably priced and largely identical in function to the original designs.

 Admittedly, Behringer drifted into the grey area when they used the little horsie-guy (centaur character) and the name "Centaur" on the pedal. But the way I saw it, Klon hadn't at that point even posted on Instagram for almost 2 years, and for all we know, Mr. Finnegan was no longer with us. Plus, it's an entirely different, more compact (and pedalboard-friendly) housing with different knob, switch and jack placement, so there's no way anyone's going to mistake this for a big honkin' real "Centaur". Apparently though, Finnegan IS alive, and took offense to Behringer's new offering. Earlier this month, it was announced that "KLONLLC" was suing for infringement over what they call "blatant counterfeit" (over a pedal they had literally thrown in the towel on and hadn't produced in a long, long time). 

You know you're doing it right when the guys making bank selling extremely overpriced (and inaccurate) knockoffs of their own products once in a blue moon are suing you for making a similar product that does "the thing" just as well but for a price any guitarist can afford (not just famous players or doctors and lawyers). I personally think Behringer is (as usual) doing a killer job bringing quality, hard-to-find products to the working musician, and this looks more and more like Finnegan at Klon is just being a salty little bitch, when you consider there are "Klones" out there that aside from the lack of the word "Centaur", are FAR more identical (some almost dead nuts) to the originals that have been available for many years, and those companies haven't been sued. 

Original used Klon Centaurs are redonkulously overpriced for a basic-ass overdrive. Yes, it's a "nice-sounding" overdrive, but is it worth having to sell a kidney to own? Hell no. Even the "official" remakes (which aren't even authentic anymore, circuit-wise; "KTR" and such) are extremely hard to come by---I tried even finding an official website or store to buy one and couldn't---and good luck even finding one of the shitty "official" KTR's (which were plagued with QC issues) for under a grand. But Behringer's "Klone" is like, $69. More than fair price for a niche-but-simple pedal like this, and much more practical for someone who wants a well-made Klon-inspired pedal without having to have it insured. 

A couple days ago, it was announced that Behringer was going to placate Finnegan's whining and change up the pedal's branding. The Behringer logo which was previously on the front (jack-side) panel was moved to the front, they altered horsie-guy and changed the name from "Centaur" to "Centara". 

Despite the change, the first batch made it out with the "Centaur" markings, and as of this writing, there was at least one on eBay someone was already asking as much as $1,000 for. "Butthurt Bill", as I have decided to call him, seems unimpressed by the fix, and is still pursuing the litigation, evidently seeking reparations for the units that have already sold and are out there in the wild. I totally get an ACTIVE company who is ACTIVELY PRODUCING an item taking this kind of action, and I could totally understand if Behringer had also used the same enclosure as Klon, but let's be clear: no one will "accidentally" buy the Behringer Centaur thinking they're buying the revered actual Klon.

There are literally HUNDREDS of different Klon Centaur clones out there, and some are even the same size and control/jack layout as the original, but he's not going after any of them. Just going after the one with the deepest pockets. It's more obvious than ever now, and it's kinda' gross, to be honest. 

All this over a product that he doesn't even actively produce, and hasn't for many years. He pops up every once every year or two to sell literally one or two random things on eBay for mind-blowingly outrageous prices and then disappears again, and the bidding wars seem to get worse every time, for what is one of the most basic overdrive/boost circuits, made from readily-available, milquetoast components. No "New Old Stock" or "rare" parts. The Instagram Klon page is getting dragged for the most part: he's only seeking litigation from the "offender" with the kind of big money to make it worth a lawsuit attempt, which makes it look like nothing but a cash grab...for being surly because a major manufacturer has demonstrated the fact that the Klons themselves are grossly-overpriced for a very basic circuit made from readily-available (i.e. non-"rare") parts...for being inactive in the production of the actual Klon products, and leaving a gaping hole of opportunity for other manufacturers...for only selling them at auction to manipulate the market and to capitalize on the desperation and gullibility of us tone-chasing guitarists. They're all valid concerns, based on what information we, the public, have.

And maybe that's a strategy, it's implied, to keep batches small or nonexistent in order to really capitalize on the insane hype about the pedal thanks to all the famous users and mythological status, which is pretty shitty, to be honest, if he's doing this and the complaining about others doing something similar so average, working musicians or hobbyists can actually afford one. Others have suggested he should be ashamed that Behringer put the pedal out for $69, exposing that he's always overcharged for this basic, simple pedal and could've been providing a tool all along for ALL players, not just wealthy celebrities and desperate collectors, and that might actually be one of the reasons he's so mad about it, because Behringer have been the first major company (if you don't count JHS's "Notaklon" build-your-own-pedal kit) to really drive home that there's no unobtanium in the design, and it should have always been a more reasonably-priced piece of kit. I don't disagree. 

So while blatantly ripping off a design of a product actively in production is grey-area at best, the Behringer version isn't a direct copy, period. Similar color scheme, similar little character, and the word "Centaur", but the housing and control/jack layout is instantly discernible. No one who would be in the market for either is going to be "fooled" into believing one is the other, and no one who is in the market for a real, authentic and horrendously-overpriced Klon is going to be swayed to buy a copy that they deem "inadequate" instead, because it's "not the real thing" to them and nothing but the authentic (pardon the pun) Klon will do. It's a completely separate market for people with ludicrous amounts of disposable income and/or the need to own one as a status symbol of some sort. The Behringer, like so many of the other Klon "Klones" before it, just puts 97% of the original pedal's tone and capabilities in the hands of commoners for a sensible price. Much respect for that.

Some commentators said they hadn't originally planned on getting the Behringer clone, but after seeing Finnegan's blatant attempt at a cash grab via litigation, and his insistence on NOT reactivating his active production or increasing the frequency thereof, plus no plans to release the "original" for a player-friendly price, they'll gladly buy the Behringer and save themselves several thousand dollars. Some, just out of spite. 

I really don't see it working out as what might've been the retirement scheme it appears that it was planned to be. Or, as some have suggested, perhaps it WAS a sly marketing plan all along, with Finnegan actually cooperating with Behringer to create some hype, and it will be quietly "settled out of court", and he DOES get to retire comfortably. Guess we'll have to see.

The fun part is that if history is any indication, this also means my first-run edition that I pre-ordered months ago that's on its way (from my preorder in January) just became a "lawsuit-era collectible" ($$$$$$$). So I guess, thanks for being a petty, whinging lil' bitch, Bill. 🤣

Do You HATE to Change Your Guitar Strings and Put it Off as Long as Possible? ME TOO!

Just saw a post on a gear page where a guy was wondering if others shared his anxiety about changing guitar strings until you don't have a choice to, and I for one can relate...

Yup. Sometimes I am reluctant because I hate wasting a set of strings that isn't TOTALLY dead (growing up in a lower-income bracket makes one frugal as hell...LOL), and sometimes, as has also been mentioned, I get anxious about knocking something out of whack with a guitar's setup. But sometimes you've just gotta' do it.

With my studio-only guitars, I generally always wash my hands before using them, and only really end up needing to change strings if I have a blowout or just want to try something different. I've got a few guitars---my Angus Young SG, my Danelectro Convertible, my Gretsch Double-Jet Firebird and one particular Squier hardtail Strat that for some reason is the most "authentically old school 'Strat'-sounding" of my Strats---which have all had the same strings for over a year and a half. For my live guitars though, I try to go as long as I can before restringing, but after two or three gigs (especially if they're outdoors, or down near the coast in the saltwater air or something), I start taking inventory on how worn they are. I do like to wipe down my strings with a cloth of some kind after shows (sometimes with a little rubbing alcohol on it) to keep sweat/grime from building up and causing rust or just grossness. Plus, while they'll still deaden over time and not sound as great, in most live scenarios that's not a dealbreaker. The audience can't tell (and frankly, neither can I in the overall mix), so I'll carry on and get through one more gig before doing maintenance and restringing.

I used to HATE letting one specific friend play my guitars, even for one song, because he had such an aggressive pH that within literally minutes, a perfectly good set of strings turned moss green, and if not cleaned off immediately--particularly if left overnight--they'd end up feeling like barbed wire from the residue and buildup. It was freakish. I finally ended up just buying a specific secondhand Squier Tele (he loved Teles) which I set up especially with his feel and string gauge, and he could play that one all he wanted without funkifying my guitfiddles. I would on occasion go to his house, and all three of his guitars had grungy strings and fretboards, and gunk all over them. He was proud of never cleaning them, and insisted the grossness and grime added to the "mojo". Even got mad once and chewed me out when I borrowed his old 70's Fender Tele Deluxe and I wiped it down a little and restrung it with fresh strings when I returned it. But I'm sorry, when it gets so nasty that you can't tell if it's a maple or rosewood fretboard, it's overdue for a little elbow grease. Sorry, digressing...

My usual sign (aside from breakage) that it's time to change is if I run my finger under the strings and feel dents in the string windings from fret contact. If I can really feel flat spots, those strings have got to go, unless I just want to do some performative finale at the next gig or something where I intentionally rip the strings off the guitar. Even when I HAVE to change strings, I don't like it. But it's a necessary evil, and I'd rather be inconvenienced with doing a restringing with a little maintenance/cleanup than break a string mid-song during a performance if my gut told me it was time for a string change. If you're keeping the same gauge, more often than not, you don't need to adjust anything, just tune up and go.

I've settled on a few "cheap but reliable" lesser-known string brands to string up my stage beaters, and I have noticed than some of the "not big name brand" strings will also show some noticeable wear on the wound strings where my palm rests in front of the bridge. I do have a really heavy right hand though, so that doesn't surprise me. Once they start looking a little "coppery", I get in the headspace to plan on changing strings. I also recommend if you own more than one guitar, putting them into a rotation of some sort definitely helps prolong the life of strings, since you're not constantly playing the one instrument. By rotating between three guitars I usually bring to gigs, for example, I can sometimes go a half dozen performances before having to change strings on a guitar, unless I just happen to be forced to play one guitar all night (or the majority thereof).

But ultimately, if your current strings aren't giving you intonation issues (as will happen with those flat spots I described above), don't sound dead and aren't starting to have tuning stability issues (as mine sometimes do on plain strings when the ball-winding starts coming undone from aggressive use of my Maestro Vibrola or my Duesenberg Les Trem on certain brands), then play those suckers till they fall off. You make the rules for your guitars. If you're comfortable, no need to change them until you have to. And if you're not heavy-handed like me, you're going to get far more mileage out of a set of strings than I would.

If it ain't broke [pun], don't fix it. ;)

Democracy in a Band : Its Importance and Relevance, No Matter the Situation

 

You've probably already read my previous blog where I explained the most recent incident which got me thinking about the importance of determining what type of leadership you want in your band, and why it's important to be upfront about your expectations, along with making sure your bandmates do the same. Which brings us to the concept of "democracy" in a band.

As bad as it sounds, I have to admit that years ago when I went from being a control-freak about my band at the time (mind you, I was a very young adult at the time), and let things become more "democratic", that's when progress started to halt, the gigs started waning and the group lost cohesion in some ways. So sometimes there's truth in the need for someone spearheading the direction and providing the motivation to a group. Whether it was in my first "serious" punk band in high school, or my long-running alt-country/Americana outfit that followed, in both instances I can look back in hindsight and see exactly when things went from being strong and productive to falling apart piece-by-piece. Said hindsight also shows me where being too staunch OR too lax created unnecessary tension and counterproductivity. You have to have that middle-ground approach.

Now, being a "leader" in a band doesn't mean being an unjustified, unqualified diva, nor does it mean taking credit for your bandmates' hard work. It also doesn't mean denigrating their contributions when they are in fact literally propping you up. However, it DOES mean being assertive about your band's direction, choice of material, performance quality and being the soul of a band. It doesn't mean some dipshit singer should take all the glory for a band if he/she is only contributing an occasional barely-usable lyric or because he/she is the most visually-noticeable member because they're able to prance around with a microphone while you're busting your ass playing instruments providing their background music. It often means the person writing the majority of (or all of) the material is the creative center, and probably should be the de facto "leader" of the band. Someone who is a "leader" should have actual ownership in a group, and can enforce, incite and intervene when necessary to facilitate progress. But that doesn't HAVE to be "one person", especially when you're a band just starting up and there are no "rockstars" in your group. Never forget that if you're "starting a band" all over again, nobody gives a flying fuck about your achievements and accolades (real OR in your own head), and your street-cred is absolutely meaningless. There is no "seniority" in an upstart band, whether you're 15 or 55. If you disagree, I implore you to stop for a minute and ask yourself how that current project is ACTUALLY going. Told ya' so.

I think a "driving force" is a must when it comes to groups focused on original material. Not so much with cover-groups, where your band doesn't "own" the art/material in question, and I've found that cover-bands are much more fun to be involved with when there's more of a democratic mentality. At least, that's how it SHOULD be. Anyone who's been paying attention, or has known me, knows I've had to whore myself out in cover-bands during artistic lulls, in between finding bandmates for original material, etc., and I've unfortunately seen that the majority of the cover-bands I've ever encountered have had a strange sense of entitlement and completely unwarranted elitism about them. I have witnessed both from the outside AND inside the horrors, and it's silly when a bunch of breathing jukebox components take themselves too seriously. I like to address the "cover-band quagmire" when talking about this subject, because in a cover-band, you are literally just another player, despite some folks holding themselves in higher regard than deserved.

While some cover-band gigs have been pleasant, stark in contrast from other tours of duty (or doody) with cover acts, I can say that in most instances, it's been miserable. I'm currently doing hired-gun work with a "private events band" that is largely covers, some originals, and even is letting me bring in some of my own original material, much like when I played with my "adopted family" in The Oath (a well-known party band in the Upstate) during their final 5 years. With this situation, I find myself receiving a fair cut in compensation, some say in choice of material, a general sense of being appreciated for my work, and I don't feel like I have to watch my back. It's very "business-like", and not very personable at times, but there's respect there. In a cover-band I had played in from 2016 till 2020 or so, we eventually had to fire our "singer" because he was a drunk who'd embarrass us every show; we carried on as a trio, but ran into local drama because "Big Ben" decided he'd make sure everyone knew we were "assholes" to him for kicking him out, conveniently leaving out the part about "why", and he never seemed able to recollect that last show where he literally passed out on a table at a gig. And around a decade ago, I left a scenario wherein there were basically 3 little grumpy old men who were at odds to control the band from different angles: Power-chord Jamey had certain "local celebrity" connections, a rehearsal space and a Marshall half-stack he didn't even know how to dial-in. The drummer (Dave, whom I dubbed the "Boston Buttroast") had a few adequate booking connections so despite obvious technical deficiencies, so he remained harder-to-dispose of than the other sidemen. The frontman owned the bulk of the sound reinforcement gear, lighting, the trailer and had a buddy who would (for a cut, of course) "run sound" (arguably speaking). In their minds, as long as their lead guitarist and bassist kept their mouths shut and just did their job carrying the load like obedient pack mules, things were kosher. As you can imagine, that took its toll. And despite having stuck around for over a year and a half (more than three times my originally-agreed-upon stint), I never felt trusted, or "part of the band", so when the opportunity arose in a moment of unnecessary tension and histrionics, I had to leave. I am fine being a gun-for-hire, but don't expect me to swear undying loyalty to your band if you're not earning it. And especially, don't treat someone a certain way and then act surprised when they're not as committed as you'd like them to be. Cover-bands and even "tribute" bands are barely one step above karaoke, and are literally some of the easiest gigs you can play. You are doing shit you didn't have to write, and audiences are very "flexible" (some would say "have incredibly, annoyingly-low standards") so you don't even have to be any good in most cases. Most AREN'T, if we're being honest. If you're paying appropriately, a player should show up, do his/her job, collect a good compensation and then "see you next time". No hassle. No drama. No bullshit. "Rehearsals" really aren't necessary either, everyone should know their parts, and I shouldn't have to waste my time standing around while other people work on "learning" songs they were supposed to learn on their time. When the compensation stops making it worth the headache to show up, you can have a discussion, or you can just quit. Which one of those will work for you is something only you will be able to decide. Go with your gut. Always.

Bands that do original material are a little more complex, in more ways than one. This is why I will say that one of the most important things, if not THE most important, is transparency, from day-fucking-one. From the moment you first utter the famous like "hey, we should start a band" or when you post that Craigslist or Facebook ad looking for people to play with. If you aren't willing to invest in others' creativity but expect them to dedicate time, energy and creative power into YOUR art, my opinion is that there's something wrong with you, but if that IS your modus operandi, have the balls to be honest and upfront about it. You can't expect everyone else to invest into your work if you're dismissing and disregarding theirs because you feel yours is more worthy somehow, but for God's sake, at least be forthright if this is what you are looking for. This is why many remain unknown in a sea of other unknowns, and will remain so until they learn to be transparent with future associates or change to a less-narcissistic mindset. Be honest with your intentions. Don't even have one initial rehearsal/jam/practice/etc. if you haven't been crystal-clear about your expectations, aspirations and boundaries. 

Part of the reason I used my examples was to demonstrate what happens when you've been given false impressions or have no idea what exactly you just signed up for. And that's the lesson I want you to take away here. Don't lure musicians into what they believe is going to be a "band" only to turn around and tell them they are just there to polish your turds. Pulling a bait-and-switch like that is a colossal dick-move. And if you AREN'T a raging egomaniacal narcissist and want to co-author and collaborate, just make it a point that everyone who's helping you create art gets their proper recognition. Unless you take a vote on it and pick someone who's going to be your mouthpiece, figurehead or "rep", share the privileges AND responsibilities. For folks who insist on being the one in complete control creatively, and want "yes men", you have to make that clear before you start asking people to play with you. Because when you say you "want to form a band", you're not being honest. You mean to say that you "want a backing band". Most people aren't going to want to hop on board just to play your same shitty songs you've been trying to get recorded and performed onstage with a band since the 80's, and you might be better off just grabbing that acoustic guitar to go do some more open-mic nights and coffeehouse gigs. The older you are, the more you probably need to hear that the reason you're rebooting YET AGAIN is because your old habits are toxic as fuck, and you need to humble yourself a bit for some good reflection and reconsideration. Just BE HONEST about what you want, what is acceptable, where you will/won't compromise and your goals. Ask the same of your would-be bandmates so that before you ever waste each other's time and energy, you know exactly what awaits. No, that's not going to help you with personality conflicts and other dangers of interacting with other human beings, but it can definitely mitigate your problems and most definitely can prevent you from dealing with certain annoyances down the road. So above all, BE TRANSPARENT!

Do I believe there should be some leadership in a band, regardless of whether you are an "artist" or just a covers-musician? Yeah, of course. But there is no one-size-fits-all solution, so you have to treat each scenario with the same respect and scrutiny. As mentioned in the previous blog, if it's all done honestly and properly, you can delegate duties and become a well-oiled machine. You rely on each member to make it work, and unless you signed up specifically to be someone's support musician for their "solo" vanity project knowing they will receive all the recognition and you'll never be more than their henchperson, then no one person is a "star" in a band. In cover-bands, there is no need for hierarchy. It's just a band. No writing credits. No publishing rights. Just booking and playing. Just going through the motions. Just a bunch of uncreative people mimicking others. It's as easy as it gets. When we do those gigs, we're just playing. And if we're smart, the minute it stops being fun enough to be worth our pittance, we stop and go do something else. But if you are an artist/songwriter, or are in a band where you're backing one, you need to know where you stand with the person you're propping up, or the musicians who are helping you bring your music to life. By all means, if you are an original artist, take your art by the horns, and own that shit all you want. If you put together a band, however, make sure they know upfront how much input they will (and WON'T) get, and let them know the boundaries. If you are a songwriting team, same applies. Just be honest with your bandmates about what you need them for, and trust me, they'll either stick around for the ride and provide you the backbone you need, or they'll excuse themselves respectfully and save the drama of clashing with your ego. Win/win. Regardless, just please, for fuck's sake, DON'T TAKE YOURSELF TOO SERIOUSLY. Just have fun with it, find like-minded musicians and remember that whether they're YOUR songs or not, they wouldn't exist without your bandmates, at least in a performance scenario. And never forget: it's ALWAYS 100% voluntary for all parties involved.

Democracy? Mos def. Unless you've made it clear that's not how you roll and the other participants are cool with it. But there are no "benevolent dictators". And if you're starting up a new band for the umpteenth time because you can't keep people on board when they find out you're wanting sole control and will settle for nothing less, it's time for YOU to make a change if you want to keep the next group together.

Mic...dropped....

H

Too Many Chefs in the Kitchen? : Do Bands REALLY Need a "Leader"? How to Split Duties and Credit...Or Just Split

One constant source of disdain and struggle with most bands who don't have their shit together is: just who is in charge of the band?

Often, it depends who you ask. A lot of crowds misinterpret a vocalist/frontperson as the band's leader, while others may think the band follows the flashy lead guitar player who seems to exude more confidence/cockiness than the others. In reality, it's different for every band, and in many cases I've seen (or even been involved with), even the band members themselves may be confused about who's actually calling the shots. Who really IS in charge? Does ANYONE really need to be the "leader"? How do you pick this leader? What happens when the power goes to their head or they do not efficiently handle the responsibilities, or you find yourself working as a yes-man for an egomaniacal narcissist? Well, let's see what I've learned over the years...

First off, you've probably asked yourself a time or two whether your band needs a bona fide leader. The answer, in short, is yes. But it's not that simple, and what's important---no, CRUCIAL to remember is that the role doesn't have to be filled by one person. In fact, it might be better if you split leadership into different roles. Plus, it shows not just commitment FROM the members, but TO them as well. Keep in mind that I'm coming from the angle of an unsigned, independent band who are either just starting out or relegated to their region/scene. It really depends on a few factors, but the most important ones are:

1) A representative for bookings/decision-making - this person is the go-to person when it comes to making contact with venues or booking persons, receiving calls for bookings, keeping up with the members' individual schedules to prevent scheduling conflicts, negotiating terms (and NOT just accepting ANY booking he/she is offered), confirming dates (both with the venues AND the other band members) and handling promotion for shows and events. It's fine if other members contribute to bookings too, but it works better if all the bookings are being funneled through one member, and gives off a more professional, organized vibe.

2) A fan/media representative - this person serves as the Q&A guy for the band (and should NEVER answer a question he or she isn't sure about), and not only handles first-contact with media/press representatives but also would serve as the first-line defense when the band is approached by fans. This person should be not only knowledgeable but personable as well, for obvious reasons. You don't want a drummer or guitarist who doesn't even know the lyrics to the songs, for example, trying to explain the "message" therein. And likewise, you don't want some douchey vocalist who doesn't even play an instrument talking about the "creative" process (that he only has to provide some "words" and a halfassed performance for), the elements involved in any of the instrumentation, or the inspiration for the sound of a song someone else wrote every other part for aside from the "poem" that would become the lyrics. This person (if they're up to speed and doing their job right) should also be the one taking the lead for handling the social page/webpage and responsible for keeping all the information updated. 

3) The onstage leader - this is the person who kicks things into gear onstage and makes it fun. Keyword: FUN. The person who helps everyone recover when the drummer fucks up a song, or who turns a certain way to show his fretting hand in order to remind the other guitarist/bassist the note they should be playing. The person who initiates and demands crowd responses/interaction. Often the most entertaining person to watch onstage, the one who most has his shit together performance-wise and the one people will talk about the next day. Sure, your "vocalist" might be upfront, but maybe your bass player is more fun to watch because he's getting into it, or you have a guitarist who does interesting parts that don't sound like someone wanking around in the guitar store trying to impress people. Those are the people your band needs to make sure are visible.

4) The creative leader - this is the chief songwriter/arranger of the band (for original music) or the guy who serves as the final say/set-list writer (for cover-bands). This is pretty self-explanatory in most cases, but in the case of original music, just like copyright credits and album credits, this person must be given proper credit for being the musical director or the pen behind the new art. A "lyricist", for example, is not necessarily a "songwriter", I've learned. In a certain project I was in for about a decade, someone else wrote "lyrics" (and really didn't want anyone else's ideas in that regard), but the "music" was always written by other members. At first everyone contributed, but as the project aged, members left and I was the sole creator of the actual songs, barring a cool bass-riff that our bassist played that I arranged into a song on one or two occasions. Part of the reason I have a bad taste in my mouth about that "band" was because I was never really treated like a partner, even when I was contributing 98% of the actual musical compositions, and it started becoming more like a vanity project for a "vocalist" who was not really pushing himself and had no real range vocally, and who was also not writing relatable or hooky lyrics to boot, causing many of my songs to feel shortchanged. So make damn sure you're ACKNOWLEDGING and paying proper respect to the creative power in your group.

Again, this all could be handled by one person, but in a relatively-busy working band it's highly unlikely, not to mention inefficient and insufficient, and definitely not recommended. An active band member probably should only hold one (MAYBE two) of these positions ever. Any more than that, and I promise, you will have to deal with booking fuck-ups, inconsiderate behavior, people burning-out quickly, information getting botched and eventually infighting that can lead to a shake-up or member loss. It goes without saying that you should choose who does what by not only their eagerness to do it, but also their competence to do it. The last thing you need is your flaky-assed drummer who half-listens to anything anyone says handling bookings, especially when he's made it clear he'll play every weekend, anywhere he can book regardless of your commitments and schedule. You also don't want your Lynyrd Skynyrd-obsessed rhythm guitarist picking your set-list. And you definitely don't want the stoner in the band representing you to fans or media giving off the wrong impression. Pick duties based on strengths, and if someone sucks at it, you have a responsibility both to yourself AND your band to tell them so, and to put someone more capable in that position.

There are going to be other struggles as well, I will warn you. It may be a member who doesn't contribute anything to the band insisting on admin rights to all the band pages you have put the time and effort into creating and moderating just so they can post their own drivel/insight and do other things that demonstrate a lack of experience and make you look like a high school start-up band, or worse, boot the other band members from admin-privileges and hijack everything altogether. I've also had self-medicating bandmates use the band's page to covertly try to score good weed and constantly drop covert drug references that make the band a liability, to venues and to themselves. Yes, nonsense like that actually happens. 

Also keep watch when a member's significant other who doesn't do anything "musical" handles all the bookings and money, and gets all Yoko on you with everything ranging from song choices to wardrobe to skimming "admin fees", pulling "rank" at every turn. Just learn the power of "no", and don't become a victim. If you cannot handle all the duties mentioned in the confines of band membership, do yourself a favor and get an outside, neutral party/manager to help out. That way no one will end up blaming someone on mishandling money or swaying band decisions based on cronyism/favoritism/nepotism.

Most importantly, if ANYONE who plays any of these roles, inside or outside the band, starts power-tripping, abusing their position or simply just isn't doing the job, redistribute it and relieve them of the duty. You might even have to relieve them from the group as a whole if it gets nasty. DO NOT HESITATE. Find someone else to do it immediately. Letting it go on for weeks, months or more will only create more tension, and will result in counter-productivity, not to mention it will make mortal enemies out of band members. And you will soon find yourself starting all over again with a new group, worrying about what to expect from them as well.

So yeah, your band should have "leadership", so to speak, but there should be no one chieftain if it is a BAND, because if your band members are all contributing their part you are all on the same ground, and no one is higher up the totem pole than the others. Choose wisely, because you have to live with your decision, at least for a while.

In another blog, I'll discuss what happens when you sign up for a band under the ruse of a democracy or "team" mentality and then find yourself dealing with the old bait-and-switch from someone wanting to essentially have a crew, not a team, with no intention of allowing true contributions or shared "artistic control" over what happens in the band. This is something that hits close to home, having reared its ugly head yet again in my life just last month, and I feel the subject deserves its own blog because it can cross both professional and personal boundaries like few other things. Stay tuned for that one, it'll be a doozy...

Old Habits Die Hard (or...Not At All): The Recent Incident That Got Me Thinking About "Band Hierarchies" Again

 

Recently I've had the concept of "band hierarchies" weighing on my soul, and I'm going to do a couple different blogs next go around addressing that very subject. But let me first explain why this subject is so relevant and important to me at this particular juncture, and provide a "case study". Maybe you can relate, or maybe you'll just pity me. Or at the very least have a laugh at my expense for having put myself into such a ridiculous position of dealing with yet another overly-dramatic scenario that could've been avoided with the easiest word in any language: "no".

Towards the end of 2024, I was approached by a certain "songsmith"---okay, I just have to stop it there and say, that has to be hands-down one of the goofiest, cringiest, most pompous and self-absorbed, nonsensical, supercilious and self-appointed "titles" I've ever heard of. It might be amusing if used in a tongue-in-cheek fashion, but when it's a mantle one truly feels strongly about and takes as serious as the proverbial heart attack...ugh. Ew. What? Anyhow, digressing...

So I was approached by this individual with whom I'd worked previously and who in the past had shown a great deal of overconfidence in his "songsmithing"---no, fuck it, I'm NOT going to use that stupid word any more than necessary---"songwriting" and perceived relevance (prior to becoming a pariah blacklisted from some venues and the scene in general). He was coming out of a hiatus and exodus brought on by a string of incidents with an ex-girlfriend who had accused him of stalking, threatening and harassing her, resulting in charges, an arrest and a shitload of embarrassment among the local scene. We had worked on a project from, I want to say, late 2017 or so through 2019, when the shit hit the fan with his relationship shenanigans and the rest of us in the band backed off, as he was having to essentially go into hiding, and the rest of us didn't want to jeopardize our reputations and risk also being banned from playing venues due to our association with him. Honestly, I figured I'd never hear from him again, and hoped he was getting the help he needed.

When he resurfaced, there was a lot of back-and-forth about random music stuff (mostly "gear talk"), some exchange of personal experiences since last we really spoke, and that was about it. Then he started talking about possibly moving back up to the Upstate and becoming active in music again. I was approached indirectly (sheepishly, almost) on several occasions about being a part of it, and I was careful not to give any impression of a commitment until I made sure he wasn't a straight-up liability anymore. For the most part, aside from some---we'll just say---"quirkiness" that I just associated with his personality he seemed like he was a bit more focused, a little more chill and a tad less flaky. At least at first. Later on he'd ask me some kind of out-there questions, about "producing" his material, and fishing harder to see if I'd help him out with a new "band". I had my reservations, and felt I already had closure to that chapter, having gone out of my way to apologize for maybe handling his previous situation a little more coldly and less-friend-like than I could've, and I was at peace. So I was neither here nor there on the matter.

I finally caved and agreed to be a part of his "new" project, mainly because he was bringing on board a drummer who I enjoyed playing with, who I felt could help with the levity and to maintain a positive atmosphere. I came in under the ruse of it being a "band", and I presumed that would mean we would work as a TEAM. Honestly, I am ashamed to have thought it would be different from last time, but I believe in second chances (just ask my serial-adulteress ex-wife..."ba-dump-tsssssss"), so I tried to be skeptically optimistic. In the group chat he shared his first three song demos for us to learn, and when we showed up to the first "jam"/"rehearsal" in January of this year, it went surprisingly smooth. We offered some suggestions to add some length to a couple of the barely-2-minute songs (as the author himself stated they were unfinished and "fluid"), and to create dynamics, and they were accepted without any fuss. Second get-together was the same thing: 3 songs were uploaded and learned, and another productive "jam". That's when it all went down the shitter...

For a lack of a better explanation, I had come to the conclusion that a "test" was needed once the second session went well---ironically just before said individual started talking about [paying for] studio time to record a couple songs. I figured I'd proved my value in the group, and one way to confirm that this band would be a healthy, constructive democracy was to submit some of my own songs. I DID, after all, have a handful that'd fit the "Americana"-ish format, having spent ten years in a roots-rock/Americans/"alt-country" group. Either it would be accepted and we'd proceed forward, or it would cause waves because said person didn't want to share the creative reins (which was my gut suspicion). Seeing as how I didn't push back on the "plan" (as I knew it, at least) or the godawful choice of a band name, I figured so far I'd been amenable and pretty cool. At first it seemed like he had turned over a new leaf and was in fact glad to have the contributions, but then shit started getting uncomfortable. REALLY uncomfortable.

Beginning with strange indirectness of questions/comments a few days before the next rehearsal, he began lecturing me about wanting everyone to have a "voice" (irony about to unveil itself) while also telling me that I shouldn't be "married to" my completed, finished compositions--translation: "I'm not comfortable playing anything other than G, C and D chords, and don't really want to invest in learning your material." Keep in mind that they were supposed to have learned my songs I submitted for this next rehearsal, and I have to also note that I afforded him/them a luxury not given to anyone else during the first two rounds of learning his material: I was asked for, and thus provided, cheat sheets, giving everyone every chord needed, divided up by sections (verse, chorus, bridge, etc), in hopes that it would expedite their learning processes, and would prevent the "I couldn't quite figure that part out" that would've inevitably happened had I not. I felt like it was lazy as fuck for him to ask for the notes instead of actually figuring it out like I/we did for his music, but whatevs. To me, there was little room left for interpretation, and these were polished, finished songs. I left it with me telling him I am always open to discussion about why someone thinks something's not working or needs something else, but I don't want to repeat past annoyances where I come to find out it's apathy or laziness driving said suggestions; I'm pretty sure I struck a nerve by hitting the nail right on the head. 

Then came am awkward debate wherein the guy with the improperly-grounded Rickenbacker noise-polluting rehearsals with his buzzing and humming---seriously, turn the goddamned thing down when you're trying to discuss stuff and aren't playing or at least keep your hand on the neck to ground it a little---and his ice-picky brittle tone, wants to critique my guitar tone, telling me he wanted to "dial it back on the distortion". Hold up. 

Now's where I tell you that I in fact was using no distortion, and was literally using a LOW-gain, Dumble-style overdrive pedal; a Sonicake"Twiggy Blues"---less "overdrive" than a Tube Screamer or BluesBreaker pedal. See, he had this harebrained idea---nay, "obsession"---that this band was to be this "totally new and fresh concept" [yes, I am being sarcastic...AF] featuring "rOcK wItH cLeAn GuItArS" (also referred to as "sCrApPy GuItArS", whatever the hell that's supposed to mean...lol). No, it's not REALLY anything exciting, fresh, new, original or even "rare"---just flip on your 98.5 FM radio here in the Upstate to get an earful of current "alternative", "indie" and "rock" which features mostly un-overdriven, clean guitar sounds. Or listen to the Cure. The Smiths. Tom Petty. R.E.M. The Violent Femmes. Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet. The Jayhawks. I could name fifty pop, Americana or "rock" groups who featured a "clean electric guitar" as their focal-point to their sound.

Anyhow, there was a complete dismissal of any commentary I came back with, where I mentioned being fine with compromising by demonstrating why his suggestion might not be "the" answer BUT I also wanted to explore the EQ on both our guitars. After he said "nah, 'we're' just going to dial it back" [translation: "fuck all that what you just said"], I decided to withhold my natural reaction to call him a cunt, tell him to choke on a dick and instead took a 4 day break from all communications, to gather my thoughts and figure out what it all meant. Regardless, it was presented to me like it was something revolutionary and never done before, and it was insisted that this was not optional. Yeah, bye, bitch.

None of those things ever were resolved, and when I started responding (and addressing the shittiness) he went on a classic gaslighting tirade and then hit me with this sudden feigned "concern" over my availability for gigs due to my membership in other active musical projects, which is something discussed and worked out before I ever even agreed to join in his latest vanity project. 

That was my last straw, and I confronted him about it, because it quickly added up: not wanting to share creative credit, wanting to be a bully about changing others' "voices" (this is the irony I said would unveil itself) despite previous lectures, and now looking for something to bitch about with whether or not I'd be at his beck and call for shitty free or low-pay gigs so he could get stage time (despite the likelihood that he'd struggle with bookings due to his bad decisions and police record as a dangerous stalker). Clearly at this point, the so-called "artist" was "threatened" by another creative force in "his" band, and they (I) had to go, one way or another. I made it easy for him by sticking to my laurels, and was promptly, within minutes,  booted from the group chat in order to keep the details of our argument from being found out by the remaining sidemen. I reached out to one in order to warn him of what happened and to just watch his back, but the other was a friend of the individual going farther back, so I didn't bother out of an understanding that the well was likely already poisoned there.

I'm fairly skilled at a few things. Holding grudges. Witty retorts. Observation. Narration. Healthily expressing my discontent so I don't end up on the news. And writing catchy songs as a vehicle for all of the above. What better outlet for saying things that need to be said, anger that needs venting, and maybe even some good old fashioned "public service announcements" to warn unsuspecting people of things to watch out for than a memorable little ditty?

I decided I'd practice a little "living well is the best revenge" exercise a couple days later when I released a song I'd written, recorded and mixed in just over 3 hours online. I called it "BEDWETTER", because it describes his energy AND rhymes with his last name, and that definitely got in his gooch nice and propa', calling him out on his egotism and his cartoonish hokeyness. He was none too pleased feigning victimhood and beseeching me to not "attack [his] art". I told him to fuck off, clarified what a coward he was and proceeded to block him on social media, as he is dead to me for all intents and purposes, but I know his personality all too well now, and even as I type this a month after the fact, I am confident he just had another random thought run through his head about my audaciousness in daring to stand up for myself, not letting HIM play victim AND by making a public spectacle out of him in a parody diss-track that would only be the first of several dedicated in his "honor". Some might ask, "why go through so much trouble"? Simple: when someone tries to silence and censor you, it sparks a fire. You don't get to do someone wrong, tell them how to feel, and then expect them to fade like a fart in the wind. Period. And let me also say, it really wasn't much work, as I drew from the same milquetoast, predictable "formula" as the songs in that project, so we're talking what, 3 or 4 chords? The lyrics flowed right out almost real-time as I decided to stick to a conventional, unimaginative chord progression (not unlike his own work), and as it was about 2 and a half minutes long, a couple guitar and vocal overdubs, and a trip behind the drum kit was all it took. The entire recording process too less than an hour, start to finish. What I'm sure also burned the egomaniac a little was that my song was far more catchy and memorable than any of his weird songs about esotericism and drugs. And most importantly: I did it all (and the ones to follow) using this "clean (s)crappy guitars" formula that he was so fixated on, and I did it BETTER. Not to mention while he was still discussing going in the studio to record his songs, mine were already hitting the web. If he'd have put aside the ego a little, OUR songs could've been released and out there floating around. But instead, I'm now on my fourth release, and he's still "rehearsing". 

So now you're up to speed on why being transparent with your bandmates is so crucially important. I cannot stress enough that when you're "inviting" people to join a "band" with you, EVERYONE needs to be 100% forthright about the plan, about expectations, and about boundaries. Next time we'll start talking about the different types of "leadership" scenarios in bands, and hopefully you can learn from my experiences to avoid making the same mistakes or tolerating the same drama. Once you get to your 30s and 40s, you think "oh, cool, I'm not in high school anymore, so being in a band should be effortless and free from personality clashes and egotism". You're wrong. It almost seems WORSE, because you're NOT talking about teenagers, but aging people of middle age and older. It doesn't matter if you're 13 or 63, you stand a good chance of having to deal with pettiness, narcissism, egos and basically just shitty people. Be prepared, and protect yourself. As I'll remind you in future posts, never forget your involvement in a band is 100% VOLUNTARY, and you aren't obligated to tolerate bullshit of any kind. But if you DO find yourself in an increasingly uncomfortable scenario, don't roll over or bend the knee. Stand up for yourself, and try to work it out like adults. If that doesn't work, exercise your right to walk away. Sometimes that is the only answer when someone proves to not "play well with others."

Good luck out there!

H

Recycled Rock-n-Roll : Repurposing Your Old Song Ideas

 

When I started my latest main project (W4WVK, named after my great-grandfather's amateur radio callsign), I had to change the way I thought about not only performing but also songwriting. In a power-duo--a format of which I have never attempted until now--there is no mercy when it comes to how brutal a responsibility it can be, with no additional or superfluous band members to hide behind or lean on. You're entirely on your own, and you have to fill the audience's ears and play tighter than you've ever played. What some may perceive as a handicap or limitation, I see as a righteous challenge. You can't play chords the same way on the guitar, and in my particular case, you're having to generate a fairly authentic sounding bass guitar tone simultaneously to make it sound as much like a "full band" as possible. It's exciting, terrifying and so rewarding when you nail it. As someone who really appreciates a nice moving bassline, especially ones derivative of classic electric rhythm and blues and Motown, it's a little difficult for me to dumb it down basically to root notes and just doing a low octave of the guitar part, and definitely not as enjoyable. But thinking back, I'd actually done it before (insofar as being content with simplistic bass parts in songs). Sometimes when we develop more complex, "mature" or refined appreciation for something, we find ourselves overlooking or ignoring the beauty of simplicity, even when it is what fits the context best, or adequately enough. 

I had in fact already proven my mettle in this regard back in my punk band days those couple years at the end of and after high school, because the bassist with whom I worked most at the time in said punk band was barely competent on the instrument, and I found myself having to pick covers and write material that he was able to keep up with. Sometimes it was frustrating as hell, but regardless of the lack of proficiency on the bass that at times felt confining, those remain some of my favorite times of writing songs and performing...something about the blissful naivete made it more fun somehow. So using that mindset when composing new songs on my combination guitar/bass rig, I can play "thoaw kinds of parts" with my new setup every bit as precisely and reliably as he ever did, perhaps even better in some cases. Just like Mark Sandman from Morphine and his 2-string bass, or the fact that the band The Presidents of the United States of America only have 5 guitar strings total between the two guitarists on any given song, I didn't look at this as some kind of limitation so much as I saw it as an opportunity to really work on writing good, memorable, tight, solid songs that would stand tall despite the bare-bones approach and technical limitations.

Before we started rehearsing for the new band, I had maybe four or five songs nearly complete that I wrote specifically for this format in mind. My partner in W4WVK has known me for about 20 years (of which several years were spent playing together in different projects), and we gelled so well together that we mastered the new songs within two rehearsals, and we were soon in need of more material so we can put together either some sort of album or a full set for performance. I keep a veritable library of riff ideas on my old trusty MP3 recorder and on my phone, but while polishing parts and arrangements, I found myself banging around some older songs I had written for my "solo" project (that I never had the ego to officially launch), and I realized that several of the songs could easily be modified oh-so-slightly to fit this new band's direction. After doubling our repertoire of original material, as well as hashing out about three dozen covers (which now has grown to a list of over 100 songs) we could also pull off passably in the format, I surprised myself one day by playing another guitar riff from a song I had contributed to with another band (which shall go unnamed, because I frankly am mortified with that project in hindsight). Is that kosher, to take back my riff for a new, better execution? I believe so.

Rewind...

A little over a decade ago I was asked to participate in a musical collaboration with a former schoolmate. Aside from playing in the high school marching band, the only musical performance this person had done outside of the high school marching band was some karaoke when he was stationed in Japan years before, and he was convinced (like a couple other folks I've worked with who refer to themselves as "singers/vocalists") that gave him enough clout to front a band. He could not play any other instruments aside from trombone (arguably some keyboard too, but I never once saw or heard him do so), and did not write actual "music" at all. This particular collaborative effort would involve all of the invitees emailing or sharing musical ideas via Dropbox/Google-Drive, upon which another member would build on top of before passing along, and so on. Once all "members" had contributed, the ideas would be polished and mixed down. Some of the songs actually turned out okay, others were bordering on downright embarrassing, but it was, at least to me, more of an experimental thing and less an actual band, so I just went with it and didn't take it too seriously. It was a great way to express some different musical styles and use some of my "C-list" material that would've otherwise likely been forgotten. The "band", if you can call it that, was not performing live, and would not until many years later, but that's a story for a different day (as well as the price it cost me by association). Every so often I would donate a guitar riff I actually considered "A- or B-list", just maybe something I was unable to use at the time, we needed a song that would elevate an otherwise-unimpressive collection of material, or when I just wanted to impress everyone in the "band" with something more thought-out. Several times, I would come to regret this, because the person who contributed lyrics/vocals did not have any kind of range, or a particularly good ear for creating melodies, and I felt a lot of my ideas that could have really become something special essentially got severely de-elevated. Thankfully for some of these instrumental arrangements, there would be hope down the road.

By sheer accident, I started playing one of those ideas that I felt never got to live up to its full potential, and it occurred to me that if I modified or omitted the guitar solo section from the original composition, with some slight arrangement modifications, I could most certainly turn this into a viable vehicle for a new set of lyrics and a better vocal melody. It then became kind of a conundrum of sorts. Is it okay to steal one's own guitar riff from one's self? Particularly when we're talking about a song that I'd wager had been heard by less than a dozen people, all of whom probably wouldn't remember it now anyway, I felt it was perfectly justifiable. Especially when that entire project crashed and burned and I was betrayed by this person I'd known since we were children, which was infuriating considering not only me going outside MY comfort zone but also having lost other opportunities because the live performances suffered from a lack of vocal prowess. I lost future gigs, and found myself having to apologize, which I took on the chin until I was written-off and treated like a side-man when I was 80% of the creativity in the entire project. Anyhow, digressing. Back to the riff of the song that could've been better. Why should I allow this killer Foo-Fighters-inspired song idea that I was actually proud of to rot in the forgotten catalog of a now-defunct band no one cares about? Why shouldn't I want to make this song live up to its potential and become a hooky, passionate tune that will be appreciated not only for its original coolness, but twice as much for being pulled off in the 2-person format?

I equate it to what happened with the Stabbing Westward song "Ungod" and Filter's "Hey Man, Nice Shot", wherein the guitarist was in both bands, and borrowed his own riff for both songs. The way I see it is that he/she who wrote the riff, unless bound by formal publishing agreements otherwise, owns the riff, and may recycle or repurpose it as he/she sees fit. So that's exactly what I did. I made a couple of very minor alterations to the bridge, added some well-placed stops to allow for a simple in-between-chords guitar solo (replacing a more traditional solo that would normally occur over a continuous chord progression), and then applied my own lyrics and improved vocal melody. It was a 180-degree difference from its wasted original iteration, and I was downright proud to have given proper life to an instrumental arrangement that was denied its potential. This was more like it, and I feel the update also gave way to some significant instrumental improvements as well. Better dynamics, tighter parts, actual vocal melodies and more in-your-face. Another victory. 

At the time of this blog post, the former "partner" in the tombstoned project hasn't ever heard the recycled song (dubbed, unironically, "Reclaiming"), because W4WVK had some setbacks from when we first started really playing together a few years ago, and are just now getting around to recording this and many other songs. And since my other "bandmate" seemed to always have an excuse why he couldn't come support us when we played out, he wasn't present for the couple times we played the song live. So I have no clue how he'd respond once he heard it, although I CAN say that when I repurposed another riff for my "solo" recording project, I'm all but certain he was none-too-pleased, particularly when that song was also written about my disdain for the way I was treated in that former project, and was entitled "Parentheses"; a title which references an event where both bands were booked and my passive-aggressive ex-bandmate decided to put W4WVK's name in parentheses, indicating we were an afterthought.

But that's what happens when your on-and-off partner with the group that originally committed your idea to "tape" is less than impressed with the repurposing of your music. There will be feelings of being disenfranchised and experiencing a bruised ego at the prospect of having a refreshed, improved version render the original collaborative product irrelevant and obsolete. And you think to yourself, how honest should you really be about the rationale behind reusing the musical arrangement? Do you just come out and tell them the truth, that you never felt that your idea was realized in a way you were satisfied about, and that you were giving it the life it should have been given all along? Do you tactfully or diplomatically explain that it's no reflection on the collaboration, and claim it's just a reimagining of the riff as an experiment in and of itself, or are you obligated to be honest that indeed you saw this as a means of "fixing" it and righting a wrong of sorts? Or do you simply stand your ground about it being YOUR creation, with which you can do as you please? Do you brush off any potential fallout as a false sense of entitlement and dare the person who literally only (for example) writes lyrics to even hint that he/she has ANY ownership in YOUR composition?

With my situation, after a good bit of meditation, I decided that it was totally worth any kind of ire directed at me should it occur, and would not hesitate to cite a few instances where said individual had rehashed a lyric or two of his own, and would also note how cavalier he was about working with anyone and everyone he could in order to be seen and heard. Partly because I have not forgotten that I have never been formally credited for contributing all but a literal handful of songs to the project as far as instrumental composition was concerned (in their entirety), while his authorship of "lyrics" always seem to have gotten special mention on EVERYTHING. I would be guilt-free going forward, and would reclaim every single riff and song idea I felt needed updating. I would Lazarus Pit the absolute shit out of whichever of my compositions I choose, and would not cushion their release to protect someone's feelings when they showed me they didn't really care about mine. When a partnership ends, it often becomes a case of every man for himself. I will not lose any sleep worrying about whether or not my former partner approves of me using my compositions in a more fruitful manner. 

Repurposing one's own work is allowable. Art does not have to be contained in a finite existence, limited or its growth stunted once realized or recorded. Sometimes it is an ever-evolving entity all its own, and if it screams to be allowed a second chance to develop or refine itself, it's a crime not to let it take its natural course. In those cases especially where you feel your work was robbed of its potential but can be fully realized with a reboot, you owe it to yourself to capture that fire and make it happen. Don't let anyone try to convince you otherwise.