The other Dubious Pilgrims and I are learning to appreciate some of the differences between being “jammers” and being band members. The values that drive these two roles can conflict. Jamming is about flexibility and spontaneity: the jammer needs to be alert for unexpected chord changes and spontaneous decisions about who is taking the next break, and to be ready to create relevant improvisations when a melody line is not so easy to find during a break. The role is akin to being a newcomer in a neighborhood, in the process of establishing an identity and amicable relations. Take a gift to the neighbor’s house and try to make yourself useful as a guest. By contrast, the band member (at least at this novice stage), needs to replace spontaneity with stability and predictability so that the other band members receive their cues and play with confidence. The role is more like entering the home of a relative and respecting the established roles and expectations. The Queen Anne chair by the bay window is where Aunt Martha will sit, and you don’t want to serve Henry any microbrewery beers unless you want to hear his lecture about the gentrification of America.
So the band members and I are listening to each other with a different form of alertness, refining our entrances and exits as we play and sing.
Since we began the extra practice sessions on Wednesdays, standing in a tight circle in the dining room of Lew’s comfortable brown shingle home, we have managed to get our vocal arrangements tighter. We have been resisting the impulse to change arrangements at each practice, and settling into making the agreed-upon arrangements work, by balancing our voices during vocal harmonies and controlling the instruments so that they do not overwhelm either the voices or the instrumental breaks.
When Laurie Lewis joined us in one of our Sunday practices, we were in awe of her musicianship. She listened to each of our arrangements with intense focus, and after each made suggestions for improvements. Laurie is generous in acknowledging the features that are already working, and equally generous in offering expert instruction. Everything that she suggested made sense to us, and we could hear the improvements immediately. We learned not only specific vocal and instrumental moves to improve our arrangements, but some principles that we can continue to apply in other arrangements. After she introduced the concept of following the “contour of the song” with our harmonies, we re-did four of our vocal arrangements, amazed at how the songs came together better with those changes. Laurie offered tips about how to arrange multiple guitars to avoid duplication, by coaching our three guitarists in how to capo in different places. We learned the importance of finding the right key for a song as Laurie suggested that Trent push his lead vocal in “Dark Hollow” up four steps. The first time out, Trent had more volume and improved tone in the new key. And just by complimenting us occasionally for the tone we were producing in instrumental passages, Laurie increased our sensitivity to this factor. (Oh, right . . . all this is supposed to be as musical as possible.) A little reminder of something as basic as that, especially in such positive terms, proves extremely valuable. Finally, Laurie reinforced for us the importance of spending time on our vocal blends, practicing harmonies by successively repeating them a cappella and listening closely for overall sound. We had begun this work previously, and Laurie’s reinforcement assures that we will continue it.
At the practice session that Laurie attended, we also had David back with us, recovering from his triathlon. He didn’t wince more than twice, and even then it was not clear whether he was responding to muscle pain or my bad habit of speeding up during mandolin breaks. As we tried out the suggestions that Laurie was making, David quietly circulated from band member to band member, offering tips, “Keep your instrumental simpler here . . . make that entrance a little more forceful.” He looked as if he was taking mental notes during this session, and I suspect that he will have several things to say at our next Sunday session. As the band members were packing up to leave, David gave us a little warning: “From now on, I don’t want you guys to depend so much on your printouts of the music.” We were busy stuffing instruments into cases, so it was not clear whether or not we had heard him. He rephrased it, louder, “At our next practice there will be NO music stands in the room! We are finished with the music stands.”
The Wednesday after our session with Laurie Lewis, we were back at Lew’s, comparing notes about what we learned from Laurie. She has had a big impact on our approach to the music, and has clearly inspired each of us. We shared our awe at her musicianship and decided to make a dinner date for all of us before Laurie’s upcoming performance at the Freight, then to go together to see her gig.
We ran through all our songs, reviewing our new vocal parts and drilling them until they sounded right as we performed them a cappella. We also checked to see that the instrumental arrangements are set, so that everyone gets clear cues. There remain a few spaces for spontaneity, but we feel less anxious about them. Who knows how long Lew is going to ease out of that bass vamp at the end of “Muddy Water?” We will know when he does, onstage December 6, and it looks as if we will be ready, either way.
At the college where I teach, I explained to a colleague why I had not returned a phone call last week, because I was at practice. I mentioned having Laurie Lewis coaching the band. My colleague took a step back and exclaimed, “THE Laurie Lewis? Laurie Lewis is god!” Hmm . . . divine intervention? She didn’t know she was talking to a Pilgrim.
Take the Stage is proud to be in partnership with the California Bluegrass Association and the Freight & Salvage Coffeehouse. For more information, please visit www.nellrobinsonmusic.com/tts.
