Musician's Widow

When I got up yesterday morning, my day was fairly clear cut. Work, then head to the Grand Ole Opry where my husband would be playing that night, then off to a writer’s night to support friends. A good day for sure, and my anticipation of going to the Opry was high.

However, upon getting up, my anticipation plummeted. A message came through that no guests would be allowed at the Opry after all. That’s not that unusual when the Opry is being held at The Ryman, but there was no problem with my attending the last time they played on a Tuesday night. My expectations were high, and they crashed down pretty hard and fast.

I was then left wondering what I would do while my husband played the Opry. I figured I’d either wait in the truck, or I’d stroll around Broadway for awhile. Maybe I would just grab a bench outside of the Ryman and people/tourist watch.

Poking around on Twitter and Facebook, I stumbled upon a headline stating that Merle Haggard had canceled all his September dates due to illness. I admit, I briefly wondered who would be filling in for him on all those shows or if they were just completely canceled.

As such, I was and wasn’t surprised when my husband’s phone rang and it was their manager asking if he could drive the bus (since he is also a bus driver) that night to a last-minute show the next day (today). Suddenly, our whole evening got turned upside down, and our plans went from a fun night out to logistics of the Opry, dinner and then getting him to the bus to pick up the rest of the band. (We are a one-vehicle family, so its not like he could just head out without me.)

Thankfully, we had no plans for the next day and we weren’t out of town.

People invite me to things and ask me to commit to events weeks in advance. This precise phenomenon is why I rarely will make ANY commitments. You never know when plans have to change due to a last minute show!

We quickly figured out our timeline for the evening, and we could feel ourselves shifting it into high gear. We both grabbed showers, he packed an over night back, and we headed downtown in time for the Opry. I walked him to the backdoor of the Ryman and wished him good luck. While he went in, I strolled off on my own for the next hour…

…I got maybe 100 yards away and my phone rang. My husband noticed my name was indeed on the list to get in! He said to come back right away. I did a 180 and headed back, and much to my delight I got to go in and see my husband perform!

I have probably 10,000,000,000,000,000  photos of my husband on stage, and yet I can never stop myself from taking even more. I’m his biggest fan! :)

After the Opry, we finally got to sit down and eat. However, we found ourselves scarfing down our food, still in hurry-hurry-hurry mode. We’d been in fast forward for the last several hours, and we found it almost impossible to slow down. We agreed that we would just head over to the bus early. That way we could both chill out and relax.

So, we went and got him loaded up on the bus. He did all his pre-trip checks, and we said good-bye. I followed him out of the lot. I went home; he headed to where the band would meet him to head to their new show.

Here I am, sitting at home, marveling at how much everything changed in the span of a few hours. It’s not the first time its happened, and it most certainly won’t be the last! I can’t complain about it at all. Its just one of those things about the life that you have to take in stride. Its one of those things that keeps it all interesting.

A couple years ago, I was an active participant in a group on LiveJournal called, “A day in my life.”  To participate, you photographed your day from beginning to end, and then submitted it in a post to the group. I really, really wish I’d done that for Monday, Labor Day, because it was a day that really showed two sides of the music business for a musician.

My day started by getting up to go pick my husband up at the bus. They were running a couple hours late (which I didn’t mind, because it gave me an extra hour of sleep!) so this was one time in which I pulled up to the bus and my husband jumped right into the truck. He was already late for a session, and he still needed to shower and grab a bite to eat.

So after a fast burrito and taco at Taco Bell and a super fast shower, he was off to the session. He asked me to go with him this time, though, since we’d not seen each other in four days. I had wanted to go, but I was really worried about being in the way. He reminded me that he was going to be working with friends, and he reiterated that he wanted me to go. So… I did!

My view for most of the day in the control room

We arrived to the studio, and I have to admit… I was in a little bit of awe, even as I tried to play it off as being no big deal. I grabbed a seat in the control room (in a nice big, soft leather lounge chair) and I proceeded to play on Twitter and Facebook much of the afternoon — I was trying to follow the MDA Telethon as best I could.

Okay, so in reality it was me just trying to still pretend like this was no big deal, even if deep down I wanted to run around and take pictures of EVERYTHING. I wanted to squee on Twitter. I wanted to geek out.

But I didn’t. Honest.

It was REALLY interesting, though, to see some of the magic happen. For example, I mentioned that we were late to the session. When we arrived, they were in-process of recording the second of three songs for the day. So, at the end of the day, my husband went in and recorded his parts of the first song.

My husband recording on piano. Behind him is the B3 he also used in the studio.

We listened to what they’d recorded in the morning, and I was thinking that it sounded really good. The engineer even mentioned it felt like a finished song already, but that they’d throw a little piano and some B3 organ in just to see if it worked or not.

So, my husband went in and sat down at the piano (which, by the way, we found out many hits have been recorded on… one of which is Rascal Flatt’s “God Bless the Broken Road”) and the engineer started to play what was already recorded. My husband jumped in and added piano. I was lucky to be in the control room when everyone still there listening raved over what he did. (I beamed, I admit it.)

Suddenly this cool almost acoustic groove exploded into an awesome piano song! It changed the color and mood of the song.

Then he sat down at the B3 organ, and they did the same thing. Suddenly, he added a base to the piano pieces he’d already placed in the song, and it opened up the piece even more. We literally listened to a song as it unfolded like a flower.

It was pure magic.

In the span of that afternoon, I got a real idea of how music we hear on the radio comes to the world. I already had a pretty good idea from tv shows, as well as from what my husband had told me about sessions he has done in the past. But to actually be there and witness it… Simply incredible.

Laying down drum parts.

My husband is a “road musician” but he also does session (recording) work. Recording takes a certain talent, technique and knowledge of music. There are some musicians who strictly do sessions. (These are the guys you’ll see nominated for “musician of the year” at award shows.) There are some musicians who strictly play live. However, a majority do straddle the two worlds.

I wouldn’t call either side of the musician’s world “easier.” In doing  a session, you’re making it up as you go, but it has to make musical sense within the piece you are playing. You can’t go in and just play whatever and expect it to work. You need to know what the song is asking for: when to play and when NOT to play. You need to know what parts need to meet up or which ones need to echo each other. You need to know how to play the song just as much as (if not more than!) you play your instrument. You are a composer on the fly, and what you compose needs to be clean and solid.

Now, in the studio you can try again until you get it perfect, and with today’s technology you can go in and fix two measures without re-recording the rest of the song. Or you can go in and record multiple versions of your part, then mix and match those versions into the perfect song. There’s a level of security within that fact.

In playing live, there is no room for error. You can’t “redo” a show. You can’t stop mid-song and go, “Can I do that again?” Also, you have to learn what the person who recorded the song came up with… often that is not an easy task. Especially when you consider that a track is recorded in layers. You can have two layers of the same instrument going on at the same time, making it possible to record something that will not be physically possible to play live. However, its the live musicians job to get as close as physically possible. Now, the nice thing for the road musician is that the job is laid on to you. This is what you play, so just play it. Also, you get the instant satisfaction of the audience loving what you are playing. Whereas a studio musician never gets the audience approval outside of seeing a song climb the charts.

(Well, unless you work for someone like Tim McGraw, who uses his road band in the studio, but that’s a fairly isolated case.)

Acoustic guitar being added in as well.

I can officially say I’ve witnessed both sides now, and each one renders its own element of magic.

After the session, my husband and I went out for drinks with two of the other guys from the session. As we all talked about the day, I admitted my excitement for having gotten to be there. I thanked them for not minding my presence.

One of the songs they recorded is one I first heard for the first time almost a year ago, when it was one of the writers singing it to just an acoustic guitar. Then, on Monday I heard it being recorded. It’s an amazing song that I know will be on radio some day. Whether its this guy’s version or some other artists picks it up, that song WILL be a single and a hit.

I told our friend, “The day I hear that song on the radio is the day I pull off the road to cry. I will sob with pride to see that song finally get to where it belongs. Its just frustrating to know it could be another 5 years before that happens!”

There is amazing music being made every day — both on the road and in the studio. I feel frustrated knowing there is amazing stuff already recorded that won’t see the light of day for years, but I also feel a lot of comfort in knowing there is a guarantee of great music continuing into the future. There’s something really awesome about that.

Doing the job... bring music to all.

When you go to a concert, it seems there’s an element of magic to the event. The music, the lighting, the vibe being built ahead of time. It all combines to bring the fans the best show possible. It lets those in attendance leave their “real lives” behind for awhile and take in this electricity. It seems almost surreal when all is done just right.

But what many don’t realize is that for those who bring the show to the fans, this is the JOB. They may not go to a corner cubical every day. They may not get up and go to work at 8 am then come home at 5 pm. However, all other elements of a job exist… along with a few other stressors no one with a “day job” ever has to deal with.

“The office building” is the arena or theater or night club or field in which the show is taking place. “The office” is where you stand when you play your instrument, or where you run sound or lights. When you are keeping over the front of house guy’s shoulder, its about like when someone pokes their head in your office to see what you are doing.

You have a boss or two keeping an eye on things at all times. There are company policies to follow, and occasionally you do have “a board meeting” in which the state of the “company” is discussed.  You can get fired for not doing your job or breaking the rules, and there is often a dress code you follow on-stage.

On show days there are certain jobs that must be done to make the show happen. Unload the trailer or semis. Set up the stage and instruments. Set up the lighting and video boards, if the artist carries those. Run a sound check (something that I personally have found to be infinitely boring). Then you may or may not have hours off before the show. Every day is different regarding “down time.” You have to find time to eat somewhere in there. Catch a shower and maybe a nap, because chances are you’ve not had much sleep.

If you have multiple shows in a row, its almost guaranteed that at some point you’ll go to bed around 4 am, and you’ll have to be unloading the trailer by 8 AM ready for another full, 20-hour day.  (FYI: sometimes when you go to a large festival, what you don’t see is that under the stage there are hammocks where people try to grab a fast nap between sets.)

When you do get to sleep, you sleep with all your co-workers only feet away. Who needs a water cooler when you can just stick your head out of your bunk and probably reach out and grab the person you want to talk to? There is very little privacy on a tour bus!

Soundcheck in the VERY hot summer sun.

Your bed, bathroom and living room moves as you travel from point A to point B. Every curve and pot hole jostles you awake, or lulls you to sleep. Every time someone pulls out in front of the bus, anyone sleeping is disrupted. Heaven help you if you’re trying to pour a cup of morning coffee. (Its like my husband says in good humor when he is driving bus: Truckers can go fast and take curves on two wheels all they want. THEIR cargo doesn’t fuss them for spilling their drinks!)

Its always good to see familiar faces on the road. Especially when its a long run that takes you away from home, a friendly (and different!) face can really rejuvenate the road-weary soul. However, guests need to always remember… its a day of fun for the guest, but its a work-day for the musician or crew member. They can’t go run around and party when there is work that has to be done for the show to happen.

The show can last anywhere from half an hour to several hours depending on the set-up, crowd and artist’s mood. (Yes, I have been to shows that have lasted upwards of three hours because it just felt right to keep going.) And while people may go, “Oh you get paid for that half hour you played.” In reality, you get paid for putting in a 20-hour work day. You get paid for representing the artist at all times during that day. You get paid to be available any time there is a show to be done.

The perks of the job are, of course, doing what you love, seeing the country and meeting thousands of fascinating people, and sometimes having four or five days off during the week to be at home. The downside is indeed sometimes running on no sleep, being away from your family for days (weeks or even months!) at a time, and the industry being “feast or famine” — you work like crazy in the summer making money, then come winter the shows are scarce and so is the money.

I recently saw where a friend said, “The music thing is the worst thing you can do and the best thing you can do.” I thought that summed it up really well! I think anyone who truly loves their job, anyone blessed to do what they enjoy and love for a living, could probably agree with that sentiment. You wouldn’t trade the job and experiences for anything, but when you break it all down… it really is a job. One that you are good at (or you wouldn’t be out there!), enjoy, and that needs to be done.

groupie \ˈgrü-pē\ noun 1. a fan of a rock group who usually follows the group around on concert tours; 2. an admirer of a celebrity who attends as many of his or her public appearances as possible; 3. enthusiast, aficionado

A couple years ago, my husband played his hometown fair. It was a dream come true for him. Being a smaller town, I thought perhaps the local newspaper would want to do a feature news article on “local boy doing big things” as part of their promotions of the show. I mean, what would be a bigger draw than seeing someone in the national artist’s band who grew up in the town that the fair is being held?

FANS pack a show

As part of the article, the reporter for the newspaper did a phone interview with me. It felt a little weird to be the one being asked the questions as opposed to asking them myself! It was a neat experience, though, until she asked THE question. The one that I admit, I snapped over.

“So… were you a groupie?”

I’d been asked that question before, and I’ve been asked that question countless times since then. It’s an innocent enough question, I suppose, but the word “groupie” in the music-sense has just this negative connotation. It doesn’t help when that question is asked with a snicker.

Groupie… *snicker*

UGH! Talk about being offended!

I can’t remember now what I told the reporter, but I remember that I snapped and quickly set her straight. I made it clear the question was actually offensive in nature. Being a groupie implies that you follow a band around and you spend all your energy attempting to insert yourself into that band’s world. Oftentimes, its implied you’re actively trying to get close to the artist via the band… doing absolutely ANYTHING in takes to get “in the inner circle.”

Being a groupie is not the same as truly being a friend of a band member. Being a groupie is not even the same as being a FAN of an artist. Being a groupie CERTAINLY could not be further from being the spouse of a band member.

I was not, nor will I ever be, “a groupie.” It’s pretty much a dirty word within the music industry; it’s insulting to imply that of someone. As I said, I’ve been asked the question a million times, and I know I’ll be asked a million more times in the years. I accept that fact. However, I will never “like” that question. Never.