We’re in the middle of wedding-planning season, that curious
time of year when I spend the most time and energy telling people about my band
– and the least time and energy actually playing with them. It’s a curious gig.
Here, in honor of the season, are my 10 rules for doing
weddings well.
Show
up early. No – earlier than that.
Leave
artistic idiosyncrasies, idealistic crusades and “precious frontman”
tendencies at the door. Recognize that this is absolutely not about you.
Get a
garment bag. You will spend many hours in your underwear in bathroom
stalls, where you’ll make awkward small talk with the people you’re about
to play for.
Pack
deodorant.
And
get there early.
Make
friends with the caterers. Help them. Remember, they don’t work for you.
But if you’re nice, you might score some hot tea.
Be
friendly even if there is no tea. Recognize that this is absolutely not
about you.
The
bride’s the boss.
The
groom’s the boss, too. So’s the father of the bride, the wedding planner,
and the catering director. But guess what? You’re the one with the
microphone.
Never
use the microphone unless you already know what you’re going to say. If
you’re unsure what to say, consult the boss.
Try this: Find a blank piece of paper or an empty box to
type in (the comments box at the bottom of this blog post is a great one). Now write
only two things down.
Thing One: What single activity in the world of music do you
love the most? Be specific.
Thing Two: What do you have to do to make the Thing One
happen that is loathsome, dull and irritating to you?
Yeah, I know how you feel.
This month I’d planned to use this space to muse about the
new SlotMusic format. We could chat about it on the blog and have a dandy time.
But on Saturday, I discovered something vastly better and more fun to write about
instead.
Music.
I rediscover music on an almost weekly basis. I play it –
and record and book and teach it – for a living, and I’ve found I constantly
need reminding why. On Saturday I capped off an extremely busy week by playing
a wedding with the Total Package – and it wore me out. We spent 45 minutes
figuring out which door we were allowed to bring our gear in through. I spent
hours on my feet re-arranging minute schedule details and relaying messages
between the bridal party and a host of managers and catering staff. My team
members got served dinner moments before I needed them to start performing. I
spent $42 on parking. I was pining for my pillow before we had played our first note.
Then we did play our first note, and had a ball, and time
flew by. I love to play. I love it.
This is why I play: I love music. I love the people I play
with, and – when my heart’s in the right place – I love the people I play for.
I love a thousand things that have to do with music, and it’s hard for me to
pick just one Thing One. But I made up the game – so here’s my answer: I love
singing with a band. Making a sound that comes from all of me, from toes to
forehead, and doing it in sync with other people – that’s the thing I love the
most.
Here’s what I don’t love. It’s a longer list: tight budgets,
bills, guitar repairs, keyboard repairs, vans, van repairs, stairs, gig bags,
heavy cases, heavy amp racks, cables, synchronizing schedules, long days, late
nights, feedback, extension cords, strange hum in the PA.
Here’s what I’m putting for my Thing Two: Getting to the gig. That’s
what I have to do to sing. A lot of times, especially when I’m tired, I wonder
if Thing One is really worth Thing Two.
