These are some lessons I learned at a really terrible show at a really terrible club last night.
If I ever have a club with a slanting floor, I will make sure that the band is at the bottom of the slanting floor, rather than the top, so that people other than those in the very front row will be able to see what's going on.
If I ever have a very small club space with very low ceilings in a basement, the only musicians I will book there are acoustic singer-songwriters. If I do book a full band, I will make sure all their equipment is not on at full volume. Nor will I play the set-change music at deafening decibel levels.
If I am ever in a band that decides to organize its sound around harmonies, I will first make sure that I am confident I can sing in tune with the person with whom I am harmonizing.
If I am ever in a band, I promise not to rhyme the words "cry" and "die" unless I wish to be scorned.
If I am ever in a band that is pretty clearly stocked by indie kids from major metropolitan areas, I will not sing songs about how I was put in jail in Arkansas. Even if it is a cover song. I just won't.
Tempo. Maintaining it. Important.
And finally, if I am ever in a band, I will not play spaces such as those described above, for fear of a) driving my fan base away with a headache or b) making my fan base go deaf so that they can no longer hear my music.
Following such a show, it is necessary to listen to something very, very quiet to cleanse the soul.
Arvo Part: Kanon Pokajanen, Ode 1
Arvo Part is an Estonian composer who writes the most peaceful music I have ever heard. He describes it thus: "I have discovered that it is enough when a single note is beautifully played."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment