Who are you playing for?
This time of year, I’m trying harder than usual to get other guys’ girlfriends back to my place for coffee. I’m in the wedding business – that peculiar arm of the entertainment industry that’s rife with glamor, excess and abnormally tall baked goods – and the months following Christmas are the ones that bring the most engaged women to my company’s doorstep. I pour them coffee. I listen to their wedding hopes and plans. I try to distance myself from Adam Sandler.
At some point, I start philosophizing about what we do. I love leading a wedding band. It’s a totally different experience from doing original music in a club, where each song is your precious child, and you’re praying that some person in the audience will resonate with this piece of your heart and find it meaningful. Wedding bands don’t have audiences – we have guests. A good night for me means singing “Safety Dance” exactly like Men Without Hats did in 1982, and finding a dance floor full of people who find it as hilarious and charming as I do.
I fight a shame reflex when I tell other musicians I play weddings for a living. It sounds impure, unoriginal. It sounds like I’ve sold out. But the truth is, I’ve learned a ton about music from booking and fronting a wedding band.
I’ve learned to think of art as service.
So who are you playing for? For me, at weddings, there’s no question: Like the caterers and bartenders and people who cut flowers for the tables, we’re there to serve the guests. They’re celebrating marriage – incidentally, a pretty worthy cause – and our job is to help them. We don’t play our favorite songs; we learn the bride’s. We don’t stare at our shoes or drift off to our special place; we look around the room to see who’s having fun. It’s not about us as performers, and it’s not – oddly enough – about the music. It’s about the people we’ve been hired to serve.
At its worst, this attitude – we’ll do whatever you’re willing to pay for! – is the epitome of artlessness. It’s the mentality that gave us N’SYNC and Hillary Duff. At its best, though, it’s what drives artists to put their own ego aside and create, not as an act of self-worship, but for a greater good. It gives us songs of praise and protest, music that makes a difference to someone besides the people on the stage. We don’t want art that’s soulless – but we don’t want it to be self-centered or narcissistic, either. We want artists who are true to who they are, but use that to offer something to the rest of us.
I fell in love with music for the way it made me feel. What keeps me coming back – and what earns me my living – is the way it can touch others.
So who are you playing for?
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How transferable is digital info? example... I want to track drums at Backthird to get the big room/ good mics and whatever, then do guitars and the rest at home. Do I need to be running protools with all the same plug ins, or can files cross platforms pretty safely?
Posted by: saturdave | February 24, 2008 at 09:11 PM