Yes, there are music classes in school - from elementary to college. But, those don't usually come until later down the road. One of the first musical classes this guitar picker was ever subjected to was a private group series of lessons on, of all things, the accordian. I have no earthly idea why my departed mother would ever dream that the accordian would be a good instrument for her son to master. I mean, no hip, young group of partygoers has ever clamored for someone to bring their accordian to a party or beach outing. Such would be as non-sensical as, "make sure you bring your tuba to the pool party on Saturday night."
Regardless of the instrument, learning how to be a musician can sometimes be a solitary, cave-dweller-like existence. While others are out playing ball, chasing lightning bugs, or terrorizing the neighborhood swimming hole, if you are a passionate musician, you are somewhere in a room, by yourself, plunking away at scales, chord changes, and lead licks. It's just part of the process.
At some point, however, the loner musician begins to seek companionship - folks to "groove" with - compatible souls who are also looking to form a band. After bludgeoning parents and siblings with every possible missed chord, improperly phrased lead lick, and ounce of sheer volume that a small practice amp can churn out, the time inevitably came for taking the show "on the road." Before the tour, though, there was one small detail. Who's going to play the drums, bass, and rhythm guitar?
From about age ten, it seemed that there was always someone who wanted to be in a band. I mean, there are only so many grooves in a 45 RPM record. Playing along with a record player was cool at first. Long before You Tube instructional videos, there were long sessions by the phonograph. When this no longer sufficed, there was only one alternative.
In the beginning, bands depend on parents for places to practice, rides to practice, and tolerance for practice. Pity those poor folks who host bands in their homes. The windows rattle, the china trembles, the dog howls, and the neighbors complain. Still, those stalwart parents figure they'd rather know where their child is, even if he and his bandmates are making enough noise to raise dead Lazarus. Basements, garages, carports, porches, back yards, out-buildings, spare bedrooms, and even living rooms are blessed places when a young band is hurting for rehearsal space.
Every day - bands are born, and bands die. But mostly, bands just fuss. It is easier to keep three Lindsey Lohan marriages intact than to keep a band happy, at peace, and in one piece. Egos get in the way. Other interests get in the way. Romance gets in the way. Everybody wants to be in charge. And, everybody else resents the one who finally is in charge. Someone always has an issue. Sometimes it's the songs that are chosen. Sometimes it's the rehearsal schedule. Sometimes it's the volume and pace of a song. Sometimes it's hurt feelings or a bruised ego. And, sometimes it's nothing at all. To say that musicians can be childish and selfish is to not even touch the garment's hem. "A" band can quickly become, "My" band when one in a group has to have their way. And, this had led to the demise of many a great group of musicians, regardless of whether they are amateur or season professionals.
One of the great dilemmas once a "band" is formed is choosing the band's name. What a band decides to call itself is both earth-shakingly important on the one hand, and totally inconsequential on the other.
A seemingly innocuous name or phrase can easily become a "brand" for a group that finds a measure of success. "Lynyrd Skynyrd," "REM" (Rapid Ear Movement), "The Tubes," "The Troggs," "The Candymen," "The Animals," and even the infamous, "Doug Clark and the Hot Nuts," have each become iconic as band names. Who woulda' thunk it?
My first band was named, "The Bolton Country Boys." Some of the guys in the group lived near the old Bolton community in northwest Atlanta, and so one of the boys' mothers thought this would be a good name. Mothers should NOT name bands.
Other names of bands this picker has been in include, "Silvercreek," "Scot Free," "Battle-Axxe," "Petra," "Mid-Life Crisis," and "The Peach State Rockers." Sometimes, even musicians should not come up with the names for the bands they play in.
A new band should exercise at least some measure of caution in choosing a name. Partly because of litigation - should another band already have the chosen name, and partly because of the message that a band's name can send - especially if that name becomes shortened or familiar enough for only a portion of the name to be enough to identify it. Such as, the "Rolling Stones" eventually becoming, "The Stones." One group I knew in college was named, "Southern Heat." At least one member of that group was a female. And so, the inevitable remark surfaced, "she's in 'Heat'."
As songwriter Neil Sadaka once put it, "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do," so it is with bands. Some of the greatest bands in history stayed together only a short time. The reasons cited are often labeled as, "creative differences." The truth usually is that over time, members of a band get tired of dealing with each others quirks or demands. Usually, feelings get hurt, someone gets dragged through the public domain of gossip and blame, and/or litigation takes place. At the professional level, music is big business. And so, breaking up at that level is similar to dissolving a corporation. Somebody is gonna' have to pay somebody - and in large sums of cash.
Even at the amateur level, breaking up a band, or kicking someone out of a band, can be a traumatic experience. I remember one of the early bands I was in included a bass player's whose parents wanted to run everything. The bass player came late into the group, and was in no position to control anything. Eventually, however, his parents took control in an ugly fashion, kicked out the founding member of the band, and moved their son to take over the founding member's instrument and his place in the group. It was an ugly scene, filled with drama and confrontation. The band that resulted was fraught with conflict, and lasted only a short time. Its demise was poetic justice and much deserved payback to the ones who came in and wrecked the original group.
The next time you see a band that has held it together for a long time, shower them with admiration. The feat of staying together, making great music, working through the hurdles that come, and overcoming the challenges of the music business, is no small thing. Recently, I had the privilege of seeing ZZ Top for only the second time in a lifetime of concert-going. At the end of their set, guitarist Billy Gibbons came to the microphone and made a hand gesture toward the other two members of the group - drummer Frank Beard and bassist Dusty Hill. Gibbons said, "For the last four decades...that's forty years...same three guys...same three chords."
What a great band. What a great legacy.
"Well I'll Be John Brown"
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