Guitar Chasers

1. It is generally accepted good sense for a band to bring a “following” of loyal supporters to the club where they are playing. This keeps the club owners happy (assuming that the following consists of hearty drinkers), and provides the band with a dependable level of moral support. There is a down side to this routine in that it also instills in the band a false sense of self popularity. I’ve witnessed on many occasions bands playing solely to their group of friends while the rest of the audience went unacknowledged. Sometimes the ignored portion of the audience would outrightly take offense and leave the club, complain to the management or flip a bird at the band as they walked out the door. The band’s response was “Who cares? Our friends are still here.” Need I say more?

Or how about the times a band chastises the audience for not applauding??? Gosh, I thought a band was supposed to earn the audience’s appreciation rather than demand it. My point is; when you play, you are playing for every human who can hear you. If you cop a belligerent attitude because they don’t respond the way you think they should, then you are the jerk, not them. Maybe you should practice more frequently.

2. How much value do you place on your equipment? Is it insured? Would you like to leave your stuff at the club after the gig and come back to pick it up tomorrow afternoon? The club owner doesn’t mind at all, and I’m really tired tonight. Tomorrow comes: “Hey, does anybody here know where my amp head went?” “I don’t remember those holes in the P.A. speakers… looks like someone was throwing darts at them.” And the club owner says; “No one has gone near your equipment, now hurry up and get that crap out of my club.”

3. Finding The Perfect Tone. I’ve spent much of my musical lifetime searching for the killer tones that my favorite artists achieve with such apparent ease. There were a few times when I actually believed I had finally found those sounds. Funny thing is, my only real reward in locating the treasure chest was the personal satisfaction in knowing I had finally done it. The audience never seemed to notice any difference, or even care. I continued having good gigs and bad gigs. My point is this; when you become an enthusiast, it feels very important to have only the best and hottest equipment. This feeling occurs not just in music, but in any endeavor you might pursue. Truth be told, it’s not really that important. It seems, for me, the ultimate result in being an enthusiast and chasing the elusive dream was spending way too many dollars on equipment and being generally dissatisfied with the outcome for far too many years. I’m aware that you true professionals out there will have nothing on stage but your personal maximum extreme setup. For the majority of us, our time would best be spent learning to be better players. Audiences are not overly concerned with perfect tones. However, audiences do not like bad tones (usually consisting of excessive treble or volume or both).

4. If you are a male singer with a high voice, please move to Texas right now. You’ll never be short of gigs. Justin Timberlake where are you, and do you like Zeppelin tunes?

5. Wanna know one of the hottest setups I’ve ever used? It was a cheap Stella acoustic guitar in an open C tuning with a Bill Lawrence magnetic pickup stuck in the hole, pushing a Roland JC50 1×12 amp. You would not believe the chingamax sounds coming from that little plywood axe. It’s such a gas mowing down an audience with cheap, unorthodox stuff.

6. When I’m on stage I follow one dominant rule: Regardless which of my bandmates happens to be the center of attention at any given moment, it is my job to help make them look and sound their best. I take my role as a supporting musician dead seriously. (or is it deadly serious? deadly seriously?) I only wish they felt the same way towards me. I need all the help I can get.

7. There has oft been mentioned the concept of listening closely and playing to fill in the holes. Not all holes require filling. Silence, in the proper context, is also an important musical groove. There are few things as annoying as a too busy song. Holes add drama. Holes add silence. Silence is golden. Shut up!

1. Dumbing Down a Song. It’s the quickest way to transfer a song from the tentative songs-list to the gig set-list. While reducing a song to its most basic elements may seem contrary to all that you believe in, consider this: I’m sure there have been times when you and your pals have pulled some song out of thin air, a song that none of you had ever really played before, and the jam was dynamite from the very start. The magic here is that your group had captured the essence of the song, even though you were, most likely, not technically accurate in your individual parts. Funny thing is, each time you played the song afterwards, it got worse sounding. In your attempts to perfect the pieces, you somehow managed to lose the essence of the song. So what do you do, continue to remain oblivious and incorrect? Yes, exactly. As soon as you(all) can, you should repeat the song in jam mode, essence mode, so that you become accustomed to playing the song by gut instinct. Once you can reliably repeat the flawed (but groovy) performance, you may begin zeroing in on the details. Don’t screw yourself up by being a perfectionist too quickly. These songs that sound good on the first try, these songs with which you as a group have a mystical, spiritual connection will become the best songs of your show. I promise. Even if these songs are the complete opposite of your proclaimed musical genre, they should quickly make their way to the songlist. “Dude, I know you guys are a heavy metal band, but the Cyndi Lauper song is your best stuff. That was hot!”

2. Finesse. Oh yes. Delicate accuracy, powerful dynamics, subtle dynamics. It’s your artistic side at its highest intensity. Finesse happens at home. Finesse disappears on stage, often replaced by ham-fisted string banging. There was a time when I felt I was the only person on earth who lost the ability to apply those dynamics on stage, those dynamics to which I had devoted so much time and practice at home. Then I began listening to some live recordings of popular artists. Man, these cats are having the same problem! They can’t duplicate the studio recording on stage. The dynamics and nuances that are so important on the cd have been replaced on the live version with blaring guitar or synth solo, and the lead singer doesn’t even try to hit the high notes. Bummer. Thank goodness the next song is an excellent duplicate of the original. The point is; there’s a big difference between on-stage and anywhere else. Every stage has its own evil characteristics that you must fight and defeat early on during the gig. Even when the sound man is providing a good mix to the audience and your monitor, you may not feel the dynamics in the way you need to feel them. Fact is, finesse and dynamics don’t come easy, for some bands they don’t come at all. I suppose for those of us whom are determined to be dynamic, with enough time and experience the stage goblins finally cease to be an issue . Me? I’m determined to remain a ham-fisted string banger.

3. First Song of the Night. I probably should say first set of the night because it’s a whole different animal from the other sets. Usually the first set is played to an audience who have been mellowing for a couple of hours after punching out their time cards. Do you think they want to hear a screaming guitar solo as their introduction to your band? Maybe some of them do, and that is one of the things your band needs to make itself aware of before you launch. Generally, the audience for the first set will depart before the set is over regardless of what you play… send them away happy and not too overly-stimulated. I’ve found that the first set serves as a good warm up period for the band if it is peppy, vocally oriented and non-strenuous to the band members’ brains and frail, musician-type bodies (especially larynx).

If the first set comes at later hours, or if you can sense the audiences’ need for instant boogie, give ‘em the boogie in a big way. Be aware that hitting it hard without first warming up may cause you pain and humiliation. It seems to me that good vocal pieces are the quickest way to befriend any audience. Vocals convey more readily the band members’ perceived personalities, which the audience target for close scrutiny.

4. Following Your Heart vs. Common Sense. I’m still thinking over this one. If you have an opinion on the subject, email it on to us.

1. What’s the difference between playing club gigs and playing concerts? Truth is, there are few differences… that is, if your band is truly intent on becoming a sensation. While the club scene will always be the birthing place for any real musical innovation due to its traditionally relaxed atmosphere, it also provides a diverse and open minded enough setting that musical dabblers can dabble and pros can sharpen their style. A club gig can also be a genuine show, just like a concert. What is it that elevates a gig to show status? Lights, premium sound systems, cool poses and well rehearsed struts across the stage and, most importantly, careful and cold calculation as to how the musical arrangments and songlist order will control your audiences’ emotions and behavior during each moment of the set. Planning is the true skinny that makes the difference.

2. Reciprocating. I prefer to play in a band where equality rules, each member gets an equal portion of the set list devoted to his or her favorite songs. You know what I mean; my favorite songs are just as good as your favorite songs. Oh, by the way, you’ll have to learn the verses because I don’t want to be the lead vocalist. I promise to return the favor. Admittedly, this is probably the slow road to success. The majority of successful bands are those which are dominated by one or two exceptionally talented people, with a single leader having the final say in the important decisions. I may not like it that way, but that’s what works most often.

3. I had every reason to be apprehensive. Talk about butterflies. I mean, here we were, five middle-class marshmallows playing in an outlaw biker bar on the bad’ass side of town. The few popular bands in the neighborhood were playin’ stuff like ZZ Top, Doobies, Hendrix… you know, biker stuff. We were gettin’ down on tunes by Linda Rondstadt, Paul Simon, Crosby Stills and Nash… you know, sweet sappy non-biker stuff. Soft rock. Was I just being paranoid? Moureen stopped short of calling me a sissy; that’s where the conversation was going. Because of her abundance of self confidence, the rest of us decided she could sing most of the first set. It was a good choice, she was dynamite on the first two tunes and the crowd seemed thirty percent less hostile as a result. Still, the pucker factor was well above 8. Tom did a charming rendetion of Werewolves of London (Warren Zevon) that actually drew a few flirty giggles from two of the hookers at the table over in the corner, next to the fireplace. I don’t know what they had in mind, but they were watching him like he was a plate of steaming roast beef with grilled onions. Though the mood was getting lighter, my stomach was only half settled. Larry finished off the set with his first song of the night, a sledge hammer slide version of Back Door Man. The crowd was starting to move in a biker sort of way. Problem was, we still had an hour’s worth of soft tunes to play at some point during the night. No choice. We hadn’t been together long enough to learn more than four sets. Quite possibly we shouldn’t have taken this gig. Sounded like a good idea last week.

It seemed prudent to start the second set with something hot. Naturally, we quickly launched into our short Rolling Stones medley, a sort of tribute to our fellow senior citizens. In my experience, Stones’ tunes never fail. Tumblin’ Dice seemed to re-ignite the crowd’s modest level of enthusiasm, then Larry’s slide notched the adrenalin up another degree. Ruben finished off the tribute with Jumpin’ Jack Flash and a cool, quick drum solo. The remainder of the second set we just tried to stay loose and played mostly rockers stolen from the fourth set’s list. The crowd dug it although the level of enthusiasm was less than boisterous. We were hanging in there by the skin of our teeth. The third set was going to have to be the soft hour. For some reason the butterflies returned. We opened the third set with Long Time Gone (CS&N) that seemed to put the crowd in a cool, jazzy sort of mood. Maybe soft rock is gonna work this set, odd as it sounds. With a resignation to our demise, we moved on to the mush fully expecting to be assaulted in some awful way. Out comes the acoustic guitar; all the other instruments are holstered. What’s this? Crosby, Stills and Nash again? Helplessly Hoping? One instrument and sweet vocals? The tragic end is near. You know what happened? Before the first verse was over the crowd became silent, then began to join in the singing. Even a few of the dirty, giant bikers were grunting out noises similar to the lyrics. Here we were, five middle-class marshmallows among a gathering of thugs and bandits, all of us singing a song in an totally illogical environment. All of us on the verge of weeping because of one beautiful song. I’m being honest when I say all of us.

1. The Horrors of Videotape. One video was all it took for me to realize that I wasn’t the handsome dynamo I had envisioned myself as being. A humbling experience. Video of your gig can be a valuable tool for analyzing the band’s on-stage appeal and it’s just as important as recording the audio of your rehearsals (You do record your practices, don’t you?). If you are a naturally low-energy type person, there are ways to look good on stage other than flinging yourself around. For instance, many country musicians assume the Dignified Stance. If not for their blurring fingers you’d almost think they were mannequins. A wicked smile, piercing stare and statuesque posture are mandatory when striking this pose. It’s important to maintain the pose for the entire gig, except when your guitar solo comes due at which time you can go bananas for a few bars. The main point is, regardless of your unique energy level and personality, most likely there is a better “look” you can borrow from someone whom has already dealt with the issue of applying a new stage-face. Keep some degree of originality, and be prepared to try more than one “character”. Your first attempt may not be the one that dazzles.

2. When I said “the bass player should hook up to the bass drum as quickly as possible”; what I meant was “both instruments should be attacking the beat in unison.” The sonic power generated by this doubling-up becomes a force that dancers find irresistible. We encourage the drummer and bass player to carry on with their experimental dynamic interplay, however, repeating a groovy move too often during a gig can quickly reduce its thrill factor. The thunder machine is one of the most effective and easily tapped sources of dynamics in the group and also a fun and generally safe realm for improvisation during the gig.

3. Spankmon’s Poisons: *Don’t forget to gently push the tubes back into place after the bumpy drive to the club. *Don’t forget to check the polarity before glomming your lips onto the microphone. *Don’t perplex your bandmates by changing your vocal part without their prior knowledge. *Don’t lose the beat or you’ll confuse them. *Don’t showboat by shouting nonsense during your bandmate’s solo; that’s sabotage (but some well placed hip jive-chatter is a good thing). *Don’t expect to remain friends with the drummer after turning up your amp another three digits. *Don’t burn through all your best songs before the crowd arrives. *Don’t jump upon the tables or roll around on the floor unless you’ve had some practice at these antics; guitar straps know how to detach themselves. *Don’t become disoriented by stage fright; project an air of self confidence even if you have to fake it. *Don’t shout vulgarities into the mic unless it’s appropriate for the venue. *Don’t step on the cables. *Don’t ram the headstock into the amp, cymbals, mic, wall, flautists ribs or any other place previously rammed. *Don’t leave the gig without your pay. *Don’t fall asleep at the wheel. *Don’t leave your axe in the car overnight. *Don’t let them try to convince you its alright when you know it ain’t.

4. Moods are contagious. A cheerful band can perk up an audience even when playing songs which are less than good, while impeccable music performed by a bunch of sour faced grumps will leave the audience uncertain as to whether they should applaud or move on to the next club down the street. The audience needs to see that the band loves what they are playing, and when they sense the band’s conviction and enthusiasm, they will believe that the performance is heartfelt and real. Sure, there are plenty of scowling, pouting bands who have a huge following, and if this is your preferred style then go for it, but it seems that opting to project glee is an easy way to stack the odds in your favor. If you’ve put in a full day’s work prior to the gig, fatigue will almost certainly surface at some point during the night making it difficult to conjure up a cheery attitude. Fake it if you must.

1. Correcting the Flaws. Simple concept, difficult in execution. I mean, man, the band has been struggling with this song for seven months now and it’s still a dog. A smelly dog. One night not long ago we all hung our heads in shame after playing it. Lucky for us, we had a courteous and forgiving audience. We could have learned a dozen great songs in the time we’ve wasted on this amateurish, smelly dog of a song. It’s true, you know. While determination may be a necessary part of self dicipline, some songs are best forgotten… or at least moved to the list of lower priorities. A sorry sounding song should not make it to the stage; never. Well, maybe once or twice just so you’ll be convinced. Of course, if it’s the band leader’s favorite tune you’ll play it for the rest of your life. Yes, foul songs can be fixed but I stand firm in the belief that moving on to something new is more productive. How to fix it? Most importantly you must be able to listen to the tune with a new ear. If you can’t hear what your band is doing wrong, and identify those errors, therein lies the problem (I’m assuming you have a recording on hand to compare to). Regardless of how many times you listen to a tune, there will be something you have missed. Those are the bits you must seek out. New ear? Sounds good.

2. Little Footswitches. We all love the little critters. A kink in the cable can make them writhe around on the floor like a snared snake. When the time comes to activate the button with a macho stomp, the tiny box is three feet away… resting on its side. “Hey dude, I really liked the tippy-toe dance you did goin’ into your guitar solo. That was hot!” I’ve seen a number of guitarists attach the switches to a nice, stable block of wood. You can’t throw the switch into the back of your amp anymore for storage (a blessing in disguise), but it will stay in place on the floor. Duct taping the box to the floor works also, but eventually the gooey residue from the tape will migrate to the strings.

3. Sissy Fingers. You’re not the only one. When we fail to practice often enough the callouses disappear and nothing remains but soft, delicate tissue between the string and your finger bone. Even if you have he-man fingers, they can be tortured by dry winter weather.

Here are a couple of ideas (NOT recommendations) gleaned from two of my pals.

*When Tom’s fingertip splits open, he fastens the split closed with ***er glue, then coats most of the fingertip with same (allowed to dry before touching string!). I have never tried it myself, but from what I could see, it really worked. I’m almost certain I saw smoke wafting off his fingers afterwards. There is a product “New Skin” which better suits the situation and is safer than su*** glue. It is available from the makers of Germoline; our thanks to Guitarglen for this info. Glen also points out that Stevie Ray used glue on his fingers. *Ron has a more unique and immediate problem. After losing two of his fretting fingertips in an industrial accident, there was no flesh left covering the bone. He now covers his fingertips with the fingertips from a rubber “cleaning glove” or “household glove” (removed from the glove; about one inch in length), inverted so the felt lining is on the outside against the strings. I have tried this trick and it is a realistic option. A little awkward, but not bad. The rubber fingertips are usable for more than one gig although they gradually lose their slipperiness as the felt is worn away from playing.

4. Eliminate the Variables. That’s what the above ideas do… the variable being soft skin and the eliminator being the plastic fingertip. Same thing goes for fingerpicks, flatpicks and slides; they all create a reliable mechanical activation of the strings as opposed to an inconsistent, fleshy thud. Fingernails work well until they break. Fake plastic nails? Be sure to get a shade that compliments your eye color.

5. Logically, if you are a guitarist whom doesn’t sing you should team up with a singer who shares your tastes in music. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Even if it seems you’ll never find someone to sing your favorites, never cease learning those tunes. That’s a part of from where your unique style comes. Keep in mind that compatible potential bandmates can pop up in the strangest of places at the oddest times.

6. Most of us carry around a bag of songs that we perform exceptionally well. Some of us carry those same songs (ammo) around for decades. We know ‘em by heart and rev them up at the jams whenever the opportunity arises. Seldom do we consider going back and re learning these gems, even if our performance is riddled with errors. A new project has just been heaped upon your shoulders.

7. Standing vs. Sitting. Sitting during a performance gives you a valid excuse for being visually unexciting. This doesn’t apply to Flamenco players or others who traditionally sit during their performances. Standing while playing increases the difficulty factor by ten to twenty percent, but that range diminishes as you become more accustomed to wearing an axe. Sitting affords better accuracy. Standing provides an always available opportunity to strike a pose for the audience.

8. Leaning Pickups. More specifically; leaning single coil pickups. You people that possess an axe equipped with these things know exactly what I’m saying. They look crummy and probably reduce the quality of your tones to some degree. At the root of the problem lies the tiny height adjusting screws at both ends of the pickup… the screw head isn’t large enough to counter the lopsided tension of the adjuster springs (located on the underside of the pickguard). I suspect this is one of the reasons some manufacturers replaced the springs with short pieces of surgical tubing. The pickups will usually straighten up, tones will improve, it’s a cheap and easy fix (although each pickup screw requires its own exact length of tube). The rubber tubing will deteriorate over time, replacement will be necessary every couple of years.

9. Boom stands are best for vocal mics, they keep the shaft away from the neck. Cheap boom stands are designed to sag automatically during your most important vocal parts.