The band-thing is a little more perilous. First comes the music, then the guys for the band, then the gigs. Sounds simple enough, doesn't it? Well, not quite. I've had three past experiences that show that it's much more complicated than that. The first was a small quartet that I put together. It consisted of alto sax, tenor sax, guitar and bass. We weren't that good, but we had lots of gigs. We went through three alto sax players in total until we finally settled down to being a standards trio. They all left for various reasons and I got tired of looking for players who weren't terrible, so I had to concede that extra dimension of the music. Take my word for it, an extra horn in a group makes a huge difference. The main problem was that I couldn't promise big money and that our music wasn't terribly adventurous; it was just standards and originals arranged for two horns. Once we were a trio, I became frustrated that the guitarist and bass player weren't improving. I started playing with other guys (who were tons better) and we all sent our separate ways. The problem here was that in order to keep the better guys interested, I needed to keep the good-paying gigs coming, which I failed to do, since the desire for standards/originals bands has really fallen off in the last few years. Those better-playing guys are still around, but they've got their own projects that don't involve me.
Another unfortunate experience was when I formed up a sax quintet. It was my idea that I could arrange all these doo-wop tunes for quintet, make a demo and market us around town to places that featured music (as opposed to the bars and restaurants that hired the quartet/trio to hide in the corner and dispense ambiance). I worked for several months arranging tunes before I started making calls to sax players to gauge interest. I had arranged some 35 tunes by that time. Most players were too busy. The ones that could do it didn't seem that interested. All I wanted to do was for us to get together and play through the music to hear whether these arrangements were viable. Almost all of them were, but the interest level among the other guys in the band was extremely low. Each week, somebody else would quit and I'd have to call another ten sax players trying to get a replacement. Finally, when the bari sax player quit, I decided to pack it in. I don't really blame anybody for quitting. We didn't have any gigs, so what was the point? All that time I'd spent on the arrangements was pretty much squandered.
The last experience was brief but frustrating. In fact, the group didn't even get past the embryo stage. I resolved to form a band that would play pseudo-European cafe music a la the Black Cat Orchestra (only much smaller). I wrote several tunes (two of which made it into Project 300 as #63 & #64) and then embarked upon learning the clarinet. I even went out and bought a very nice old Martel. Hey, I could play saxophone just fine. How hard could it be? Well, it turned out to be damn near impossible. I don't know what's the matter with me. I could sound decent for 10-15 minutes, then everything would just go to hell. I'd squeak and honk and contemplate breaking the stupid thing over my knee in frustration. I tried and tried - and failed and failed. I got a soprano sax (an old Conn, of course) at the same time, thinking that it would be a worthy substitute for the hated clarinet, but it just didn't cut it. Its sound was a little too shrill and direct.
So those are my three cautionary band tales - all of them quite educational.
My latest Big Idea is along the lines of the second example. I'm thinking of starting a groove band (NOT smooth jazz - God no) made up of tenor sax, keyboards, bass and drums. There are several of these outfits around town and they seem to play out a lot. I know that the music has to come first. It'll take some time to write. I can convert about five tunes that I wrote for the quartet/trio, but I need to write a lot more than that - we're talking sets and sets of music, maybe 30 more tunes just to start. After that comes the band. I want these guys to be interested in the music. That's a pretty tall request, as I learned with the sax quintet. I still haven't figured out how to capture their attention, get them to rehearse the music and make space in their calendars for gigs, but I'm working on it. It's even more important that I like them. We don't have to be best pals, but it is really important that I respect them and like what they play. I mean, if they were ham-handed mouth-breathers, that wouldn't be too fun. With the music and the musicians in place, it might not be so tough to get gigs. This is my wishful and delusional side coming out. I realize that I'll have to do all the work - and I'm pretty bad at landing gigs. In the quartet/trio, the guitarist found us the overwhelming majority of our gigs. He was from Detroit and didn't take no for an answer. He was also not the greatest musician in the world, so it all evened out.
The reason why I'm so hesitant about this scenario is that it can all evaporate into nothing in exactly the same way the sax quintet did. I can spend all this time writing music and rounding up musicians only to have it all vanish for any kind of reason: lack of interest, other gigs, etc.
Having played at "Oo La La" with two excellent jazz musicians (whom I greatly envy because they have gigs), I realize that I have to get better. Sure, I'm happy that I was able to hold my own with these guys. We played dots off a page and did a little elementary improv. That doesn't prove much; only that I can meet the minimum requirements. It's been a long time since I've picked up the horn. I have to tell you, though, Josh sounded so incredibly good on my Conn alto that I've been playing it for a week. I haven't even opened up that horn's case in two years. Now I play it every day and it's quite a joy to wiggle around on. Over the next few weeks, I'll try to revive my skills on both alto and tenor. Hopefully, it won't lead to the vat of stagnation that I've been wallowing in since last November. I'm thinking that writing tunes for this new band might be exactly what my playing needs. They won't be swing numbers but rather funk/groove stuff that requires a different approach. That's what gets me excited about this prospect.
Here it the lovely, lovely Conn Chu Berry alto. Did I mention that it sounds really sweet?
But lurking out there in the grass is the possibility that it may come to nothing. The guys in the rest of the band will most likely be strangers to me and each other and therefore have nothing invested in this venture. I'm not a guy who has an extensive list of contacts, so that's very probable. And lastly, if I do get the tunes done and the band together, I can't guarantee that I'll find us anywhere to play. I wish I could, but I know my own nature. I'm a terrible self-promoter. At the same time, I know that if I don't make it happen, it won't happen. That's it right there.
It would be great if I was super-busy and playing lots and having an income from it, but first I have to get really good before I think I'm entitled to have that happen.
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