Dear Readers, before proceeding with this entry, I must offer a FULL DISCLOSURE NOTE ABOUT MY LAST ENTRY: when I first posted the U2 piece a couple of weeks back, I did not attribute the "SCOW" (Social Conscience Of the World) moniker hung on Paul Hewson (a.k.a. "Bono") in the piece to my good friend Tony O, who coined it in a conversation after we had seen the Rattle and Hum movie together. I have now edited the post to attribute him within the piece as the creator of the moniker and also am doing so here with this note. My apologies to Tony for the oversight and my thanks to him for his pithy, on-target wit, and his understanding:). We now return to our regularly scheduled post about my new Life in the Rhythm Section...
After 30 some odd years towards the front of the band-- playing guitar and singing-- I moved into the rhythm section about a year and a half ago. I LOVE my new home at the back of the stage, but it sure is a different place, with a very different set of responsibilities and rewards.
I wasn’t planning on moving-- it just kinda happened. I’d been invited to sit in on Tuesdays with a 2 guitar and voice combo for a guitarist who was going to be out of town for a little while, and that went just fine-- I could follow the rock, blues, r and b, and country tunes and pick a respectable solo-- but then the out-of-town guitarist came back into town, and I became extraneous, a 5th wheel: unless you’re Lynyrd Skynyrd or the Eagles, 3 guitars is just a silly lineup-- too many notes, redundancy, and / or wankery. At the time, however, we had no proper rhythm section-- neither a bass player nor a drummer-- and so whoever was playing rhythm guitar also was the timekeeper. This worked OK, but there’s no substitute for someone with a big-ass rumbly sound making sure that “ONE” punches down firm and strong and even every bar (and “TWO” and “THREE” and etc for that matter!). I’ve had a cheap bass guitar lying around my house for years, and so, wanting to find myself a useful role, offered to bring it down to the bar the next Tuesday. “Yeah, that’d be great,” came the reply.
Like, I suspect, many guitarists, I’ve had a bass player fantasy for years-- the low lying lines and chest thumping wallop intrinsic to the instrument, the rhythmic pulse and grooves it can create, its long, skinny profile (I'm kinda short and round meself, and so have always liked the look of things long and thin...), and its understated but vital importance to any performance’s sound… damn, that always looked like fun-- and so this was, literally, a dream come true.
Getting my bearings took me a little while: I needed to play individual notes ALL the time-- no chords ever, really-- and though my left hand was familiar with the layout of the neck (the bass is really the bottom 4 strings of a guitar tuned an octave lower), the spacing was larger and so I needed some practice finding my way around smoothly. We had song sheets with chords for some of the tunes, but not nearly all-- maybe less than half-- and so I was often following things by ear and missed the timing of changes or broke for the wrong note because of my unfamiliarity. I guess I worked out these issues fairly efficiently, though-- the band kept asking me to coming back with the bass-- and I now feel joyously at home at the back of the band. In recent months, we’ve also been joined by a handful of drummers who frequent the bar where we play, and so I’m usually not alone back there. With their percussive assistance, I have come to understand 2 vital Truths about Life in the Rhythm Section...
First (and this seems obvious and I always knew it but in a secondhand sort of way which is very different from living it): the first, last, and primary job back here is to keep the Beat: ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR, over and over relentlessly until the song is done (or, as the case may be, ONE-TWO-THREE, ONE-TWO-THREE, ONE-TWO-THREE, or etc etc etc). Once the song starts, the pulse has to lock in and NEVER change, NEVER stop, NEVER hiccup, NEVER speed up, NEVER slow down. PERIOD. It’s like putting your quarter into a rocking horse pony: once you start it, it goes like it goes until it’s done, and it can’t be stopped. All other Rhythm Section Truths flow from this reality, and a failure to meet this primary responsibility results in nonmusic, noise, sonic barf. ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR, ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR: making sure everyone knows where these are is our first job back here and if we don’t do it, everything falls apart in a hurry. As a converted guitar player (and especially a lead guitar player!), I had (and still fight) a tendency to want to play too many damn notes. First of all, these can get in the way of keeping that pulse vice-grip locked in time and pulsingly present in the overall sound, and second of all, my bass chops ain’t that sharp so I try to remember to not get my head out over my skis anyway. When in doubt: just play the notes on the beat. Funny enough, as I have now also begun experimenting with the stand-up bass, I find staying focused on this job easier than with with bass guitar because the stand-up is harder to play so keeping it simple is, uh, simpler.
Second: as keepers of the Beat, we are the foundation of the Groove in the rock and roll band. The Groove-- usually composed of the aforementioned steady beat, a little bit of percussion shake (hi hat, shakers, etc), a bass line locked in to the beat maybe syncopating it a bit, but in granite firm time that wiggles your hips, and maybe topped off by a rhythm guitar riff with some grind-- is what gets in your ears and head and won’t leave, sometimes for days or weeks. It’s like a drug that takes over first your body and then your mind. Building the Groove properly doesn’t necessarily take a lot of notes, it just takes the right ones: the right pulse with the right shake, a bass line kneading the beat or foreshadowing or framing the chord changes or melody, a guitar riff that reaches down into your guts and won’t let go can drive a tune, can open up vocal and instrumental possibilities which can take a song anywhere. The Allmans and the Grateful Dead have always known this about the Groove, which is why they have 2 drummers (one to lay down the beat, one to add the shake). Even a flaccid, weak song can spring to glorious, feral life when the rhythm section finds the right groove to put behind it, and a great song can flop flaccidly without a well-constructed groove.
Thus the Beat and the Groove constitute the awesome Responsibility and the awesome Power of the Rhythm Section. Life at the front of the band can still be fun: a haunting melody, a truth-encapsulating lyric, a blazing guitar solo can all be stunning to take in as a listener and teeth-igniting to offer up as a player, and living in the limelight up front does have its charms and allure. But life here at the back is a Big Deal, too, and a glorious one, at that. I’m digging my new home very much, very indeed, and have no desire to move in the near future.
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