Available on DVD, the documentary Bring on the Night offers a revealing
look into the world of top-tier touring. Shot in 1985, the film shows
a young Branford Marsalis and his crack band—including badass
Darryl Jones on bass—trying to find their place as backup musicians
for Sting in his first post-Police project. Emotions run high as the
band rehearses for their opening concert in Paris. |
Once in a while, I get cocky.
As with most creative-type
people, it’s in our nature. That’s
because creativity is driven by
ego on some levels. There are
certainly other factors that drive
us, but the sense of being and
accomplishment can easily take
over our thought process, and
land us in a place where we
maybe shouldn’t be. I use the
word “shouldn’t” because in
the business of music, we must
constantly remind ourselves as
musicians that it’s not about
us—it’s about the big picture.
When we decided to play
bass, we all sort of took a backseat
in the “musical station
wagon.” Some nights it even
feels like we’re facing the other
way in the third seat, but at
least we are still in the car. Bass
is often the forgotten instrument—
usually relegated to the
back of the stage—and since our
parts are considered “simple,”
we are often (wrongly) thought
of as bottom-rung musicians.
This leads to some other issues
(here comes that ego again)
like when we aren’t out front
or getting the attention we feel
we deserve. We forget our place
in the musical universe … and
then the trouble starts.
We all know the “state of
bass” is really not that extreme,
and that the bass has evolved
immensely in the past few
decades. The problem only
presents itself when the bassist
doesn’t remember he’s the
bassist—this also applies to any
player and his instrument—forgetting
his role in his musical
situation. In Nashville, this can
quickly lead to certain gig-ending
death and a wide-open calendar.
Whether you are playing
for or with someone else, you
need to remember your job on
that stage. If you are a hired
musician, you are not there to
upstage the artist, meaning there
probably won’t be a bass solo.
(Get over it.) This also means
that you can’t be on a trampoline
behind Vince Gill, unless
Vince decides to put you on
one. Consider yourself lucky if
you get to move—many artists
either put you in one spot or
have choreography for you. You
wanted to be here, so you need
to play by the rules. You were
hired to help showcase the artist’s
skills, not yours.
As bassists, our job is holding
it all together. We must
establish a pocket for everyone
else to fall into, and this pretty
much holds true for every
music genre. We are the glue!
And the glue won’t hold if you
decide to solo over the chorus,
or decide that because the girl
in front is checking you out,
you need to play that 32ndnote
run during the ballad. It
just doesn’t work. At that point,
you are probably trying too
hard anyway. So do what you’re
there to do (backing your artist),
and it will be noticed.
The same holds true in
recording sessions. Serve the
song, not yourself. You are there
to provide your tone, your note
choice, and your groove for the
session. Are your million-dollar
licks clashing with the melody?
Well, guess what? It’s you that
must change, not the melody.
Countless sessions have gone
bad over ego clashes when a
bassist will forget that he was
hired as a musician, not a producer.
There are tactful ways of
addressing certain issues, but a
session player’s role is just that.
Again, remember your place and
why you are there.
Many players in town have
come from band backgrounds,
including myself, and there
is a needed shift in thinking
when you transition from your
collaborative band to being a
hired gun. You must remember
your name is not on the
marquee, and that the average
ticket holder is not there to see
you. There is a harsh, yet very
real scene in Sting’s film
Bring
On the Night, when his then-manager
Miles Copeland talks
about the role of the band for
Sting’s tour. Though the band
boasted some of the best young
jazz musicians in the world,
Copeland lays it out that it’s
not the band the people are
coming to see—it’s Sting.
Frugal reputation aside, he’s
correct. The band was created
to make Sting sound good.
I may have painted a dark
picture here, but I don’t want
to scare anyone out of trying
to land a top gig. Remember
that this is the music business,
so there are no absolutes.
There are tons of great artists
out there who let you have
leeway in your gig. Even working
for someone like Christina
Aguilera (call me, girl!) with
set and costume changes is a
great gig—just be ready for
some things you may not have
been expecting. The upside is
that with “name” artist credits
under your belt, you will get
calls for other work. That’s
because you’ve proven you can
work and play well with others,
and that you realize the
scope of the gig.
As I have preached in previous
columns, two of the most
important elements of success
are balance and harmony. Let’s
call it your musical
feng shui.
The balance part can be tricky,
especially if you are like me and
want to rule the world. With
a little knowledge and understanding,
you can find your
place—and more importantly—
keep your gig. If you want
your place to be out front or in
charge, then you’ll just have to
create that gig yourself. Until
then, remember that it’s about
the music, not you.
Steve Cook has been fighting his rockstar
frontman urges for
decades, holding down
the low end for such artists
as Steve Cropper,
Sister Hazel, and Phil
Vassar. Join in his “touring therapy” on
Twitter @shinybass.