When a Bassist Meets a Bassist

Though there may be quite a bit more bassists out there than let’s say accordion players, in comparison to guitarists, drummers, and pianists there are relatively few of us. This has led to an interesting phenomenon which occurs whenever a bassist meets another bassist.

Now bass players are generally by nature somewhat quieter than their fellow band mates and pretty used to disrespect and disregard by both musicians and laypeople so when they meet another of the same species there is an instant connection. It does not matter what type of bassist they are or how long they’ve been playing. All that matters is that they don’t have to worry about the judgment of others for once in their musical careers.

Non-bassists have no idea how refreshing it is to talk to someone from the same musical family. It is almost like meeting an old friend. Upon encountering another tamer of the low frequencies it is customary that first you have to talk about your bass collection, amplifier rig and pedals. Only once these formalities are finished you get into the real nitty-gritty. We are known to talk for hours about technique, bass icons or how they wish guitarists would stop peacocking around the stage like they musically important or something like that. And believe me; we don’t get to talk about this kind of stuff almost ever. Whatever happens in this conversation there will be a deep connection between both parties involved, even if you never meet again.

I was not consciously aware of this phenomenon until it was brought to my attention by an anecdote from Stewart Copeland’s autobiography. In this story Copeland describes events similar to what I described every single time Sting encountered another bassist. I’ve had other musicians point out the same thing.

Only a few months ago one of my friend’s bands was practicing at my house and they had brought in a new bassist who was sitting in for a show or two while theirs was away. I ran into him just they were leaving and after giving his bass a test drive we ended up talking about Les Claypool, pedals and technique for a good three hours. Bear in mind I had never met him or seen him before in my life, but were able to become almost instantaneous friends.

Until next time give Les and Stewart a listen:

Jesus Band: Apparently Not All Musicians Are Created Equal

While I am still on the subject of my formative years as a bass player I feel I am about due for another story of discrimination against bassists. You see back at my wonderful sausage fest of a Catholic high school our campus ministry department gave us a quota of “service hours” which we had to complete on a yearly basis. In order to fulfill this requirement I joined the “music ministry” group which was just a loosely organized group of musicians who put together music for the weekly church ceremony.

Now I am not a religious person put this whole Jesus band experience was probably one of my favorite parts of high school. We got to skip homeroom and show up late to all our classes after church on top of the performance experience. Most of the time we spent just dicking around and playing just barely passable versions of the new age-y worship songs the campus ministry department gave us and a few of our own additions.

Throughout my years in the group we had a few different six-string slinging student band leaders (and the occasional 12-stringer). Usually they would organize all the music and bring it with them in the morning and even if things fell apart it was all in good fun. Like the rest of us they were not always the best musicians, but that just made everything more laid back. As the last one was poised to retire at the end of my junior year I was ready to pick up the torch of band leadership.

I felt I was perfectly positioned to be the band leader. I was on good terms with the campus ministry department, plus I had seniority over all the other members. I had perfect grades; perfect attendance and I could play all the music forwards and backwards in my sleep. Unfortunately there was one factor that I overlooked: my instrument was two strings short and an octave low of a guitar.

It turns out that the administration felt the position of band leader should be passed down to the senior member of the guitar playing line of the Jesus band much like the obsolete patriarchal succession of the monarchies of old. Now I try not to judge the senior guitarist too harshly, I mean it is not like he even asked for the position, but there could not have been a worse match for band leader.

My entire senior year in Jesus band can be characterized by me hauling equipment from my house to school (thanks to the draconian ruling of the band teacher which I will discuss in a later post) at around six in the morning and setting up the drum kit, music stands and microphones alone until our fearless band leader showed up an hour late without the music. He also had this mental inability to start a song that was in the time signature 6/8 which just happens to be about 50% of all church music. To make matters worse his guitar was made of ply wood and he had a tiny amp that we nicknamed the “T-Rex” because whenever he turned it up it had a distorted signal that might be desirable in some forms of death metal.

I did everything in my power to try and convince campus ministry to let me be leader. I came early and organized all the music. I led the regular band meetings. I even brought my own guitar amp to prevent the use of the T-Rex. No matter how much I pleaded with the administration they remained adamant that a guitarist was more suited for the position. They literally told me “we just don’t think that a bassist can start songs like a guitarist can.” As the cherry on top of my enduring the weekly humiliation of bad performance after bad performance they give this guitarist twice the service hours because he had more “responsibility” as a school “leader.” It was at this point in my life I decided I needed to start standing up for my people.