Part 1 – What it’s really like being in a band

Associating with musicians, although fraught with danger can be quite fulfilling if you can manage it properly… so I’ve been told. No matter how much of a people person and a diplomat you think you are you will more often than not walk away from an encounter with a muso with oppressed feelings of anger and rage that you previously thought were only held by maximum-security criminals and political journalists.

Before I get to the ‘fulfilling’ part of this lecture, allow me to fill you in on some of the bits that Rolling Stones magazine left out.

Bands are like little families, and as we all know from any Ben Stiller film they are filled with completely unreasonable people who are totally oblivious to the exact level of insanity they each possess. Bands contain a very special breed of person, ‘The creative type’. These people are frequently in touch with their inner beatnik and often stroke their own egos with phrases like ‘as an artist, bla bla something ground-breakingly obvious’.

Musicians are incredibly defiant, completely stubborn, pretentious, and painfully insecure. Think of the worst partner you’ve ever had and multiply it by four (the usual number of people in your standard garage band). If you’re lucky they’ll handle criticism badly. If you’re unlucky you’ll be talking them off the roof of the rehearsal studio at 3am on a weeknight.

All clear and succinct forms of communication you present them will be ignored. Lets take the classic Friday night practice for example. Message reads:

Friday night Jam, 7:30pm sharp, bring food, don’t bring your dog this time…seriously.

It’s pushing 9:45pm as you sit there watching your strings rust when all of a sudden your band mate barrels through your front door with only half a pizza, no gear, and you guessed it…one kelpie cross mutt that is almost as mentally unstable as it’s owner. Half an hour later (after some bullshit rant about digital cameras) your band is fully set up and ready to rock and guess who’s at the door now? It’s your arsehole neighbours complaining about the noise as it’s now after 10pm. You try to keep your cool but you end up taking your misdirected frustration out on your neighbour, who lets face it, frankly doesn’t deserve it.

Long story short, rehearsal has been cut short but at least you got half of a cold pizza out of it. Next stop, Wembley Stadium.

That in mind, even with all of their faults and peculiarities they are some of the most amazingly wonderful people that have and ever will exist. They’ll drive you to the very brink of frustration and anger, then they’ll open their mouth and sing or jump on their preferred instrument and just wail and you’ll suddenly remember why you continue to work with them. It’s because they are awesome at what they do and there will never be another like them… if only they could play it the same way each time, or is that asking too much of them? 

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