I came to music late, at the age of 48. In 2004 I moved to Texas, met my husband-to-be and settled into my new life. He's a musician, a guitarist for most of his life, in addition to having a day job. For musicians a 'day job' is the work you do to have a home, a family and a stable life. Very few musicians will ever make a good living at music; it's a hard road and suited only for the adventurous and brave.
I accompanied him to all his gigs, watched him unload the van, set up a sound stage, play, break down, load the van and drive home. It wasn't long before sitting on my behind for four hours got old, I had to find things to do. Little by little I learned to help set up.
Setting up consists of hauling in instruments, speakers and speaker stands, amplifiers, mixers, monitors, microphone stands and microphones and all the cords that tie everything together to make it work. Then you do a sound check to make sure all the voices and instruments are equalized. Breaking down is the same in reverse--putting everything away in the band van neatly, ready to set up again. Each takes an hour or more, added to the length of the gig which is usually four hours.
While being a 'roadie'-someone who sets up, breaks down and maintains the equipment-is a lot more interesting than sitting around being decorative, it still didn't satisfy my need to feel an essential part of the band. I soon took up 'alternative percussion', tambourine, shakers, guirro, washboard, spoons, then rudimentary drums so I could fill in with a simple beat whenever we played an acoustic session. Then I began singing backup harmonies, something I'd been able to do since childhood. Now I sing a few leads but my voice isn't what it I'd like it to be-yet.
Although I don't play an instrument, it turns out I had a hidden talent; I'm a natural Sound Guy. I don't understand technically what's going on inside a mixer but I have 'the ear', the ability to listen from the audience's perspective and mix all the components so it sounds right. Here's what a Live Sound Engineer does.
In our setup, the guitarists and bass player have their own amplifiers that they control to produce the sounds they want and if I make a suggestion about volume they'll adjust it. All the microphones are connected to a powered mixer where adjustments are made so that each person's voice sounds the best it can and is equalized for volume so everyone can be heard. Every venue has its own challenges, for example, a small restaurant will have dramatically different settings than a dance hall or an outdoor event. "Playing" the mixer turned out to be, after all, playing an instrument and now I feel that I'm an essential part of the band.
Most gigs last about 4 hours and we've done our best to make the audience happy. We don't stick to a particular set list, the main singers have lots of songs to choose from. Each audience and each night is a little different. A Friday night might be full of people who have had a long week and are responding well to some good solid rock 'n' roll and blues. A Saturday night crowd could be people who have been out running errands all day or having some fun with their families and are up for lots of dance music. When the audience starts to respond to certain songs with enthusiasm and dancing we know to do more of that. Then, for variety, we mix it up, which they appreciate all the more. Sunday Jam Sessions, which we host twice a month, are usually a good mix with guest artists who have dramatically different styles and genres.
As this is live music, not a single song is played exactly the way it was recorded and released. The experience is utterly ephemeral, completely dependent on the interpretation of each musician. Each singer has most likely changed the key to suit their own voice and our crew can play any song they've ever played before in any key. In fact, they're so skilled that if they or a guest singer can sing a song, the band can fake it through the first verse and chorus, by which time they've learned it. Our favorite response to "Do you know ________...?" is "We will in a minute.". It's not a boast, the band as it stands, 3 instruments and 2 singers (everyone sings), has a combined total of about 170 years of stage experience.
There are rituals involved in setting up for a gig--evaluating the room to see what the setup should be, taking into account the players and where they should be placed, wiring, sound check, playing, breaks and visiting with the audience, breaking down and going home. Breaking down is my favorite. I call it Closing Time.
The duration of a gig at local bars is 9 PM-1 AM. Closing time in Texas bars is 2 AM, so we're usually finished breaking down and driving off when the bar closes. When the show's over we thank the audience sincerely, tell them when we'll be appearing next and put in a plug for the next band. Then I quickly walk over to the mixer and turn it off. Sometimes people forget the mics are still on and say something they wish they hadn't. Or I wish they hadn't.
As we begin unplugging wires from the mixer, the mics, the speakers and monitors, we begin visiting with each other. Everyone helps with breaking down and loading up the band van. The musicians discuss how this or that song went well, or they apologize for 'messing up that part of...'. We wind down slowly from performance mode, which includes a lot of adrenaline.
The bartender turns the jukebox back on. Sometimes we hear a song we like and decide to learn it. We proceed to roll up cords and put them in cases, fold up microphone stands, music stands and speaker stands, put electrical equipment back in its designated cases and haul it out to the van and load up. We catch up with the lives of our friends, the other band members, who are much like family, perhaps more so because we have music in common and sometimes see them more often than we see our families.
The bartender pays us for the evening. I add in the tips and pay everyone. When we're wound down enough, we wash our hands (bars with dance floors aren't that clean), hug all our friends--this is Texas, anyone you've known more than an hour is a friend--and hit the trail. The ride home is mostly quiet, with spurts of "That was great, that was so damn great, how do we deserve to have that much fun with people we care about and get paid for it?" Coming down from a performance high is reflective, a little sad and sweet. We're well aware that this evening was a transient experience, a snapshot, a moment that will never occur again. And we did good.
Lyle Lovett wrote a song about it.
Closing Time by Lyle Lovett
The night she is a true companion They shuffle in, they hear the sound But by night's end it's night's abandon You look across the floor ain't anyone around
[Chorus] Closing time Unplug them people And send them home It's closing time
Now Kenny he's been mixing sound all evening Sometimes I think that boy he ain't got no ears And Kathy's laughing, Kathy's always laughing Well keep on laughing Kathy, just make it out of here
[Chorus]
So stack those chairs upon those tables And stack those empties upon that bar And count your money, and count my money And hear those bottles ringing, you know where you are
[Chorus]
The night's all that's left behind You take your part and I'll take mine And go on home It's closing time
Rough Draft ................................
CLOSING TIME
I came to music late in life. In 2004 I moved to Texas, met my husband-to-be and settled into my new life. He's a musician, a guitarist for most of his life, in addition to having a day job. To explain, for musicians a 'day job' is what you do to have a home, a family and a stable life. Very few musicians will ever make a living at music; it's a hard road and suited only for the adventurous and brave.
I accompanied him to all his gigs, watched him unload the van, set up a sound stage, play, break down, load the van and drive home. It wasn't long before sitting on my behind for four hours got old, I had to find things to do. Little by little I learned to help set up.
Setting up consists of hauling in instruments, speakers and speaker stands, amplifiers, mixers, monitors, microphone stands and microphones and all the cords that tie everything together to make it work. Then you do a sound check to make sure all the voices and instruments are equalized. Breaking down is the same in reverse, putting everything away in the band van neatly, ready to set up again. Each takes an hour or more, added to the length of the gig which is usually four hours.
While being a 'roadie', someone who sets up, breaks down and maintains the equipment, is a lot more interesting than sitting around being decorative, it still didn't satisfy my need to feel an essential part of the band. I soon took up 'alternative percussion', tambourine, shakers, guirro, washboard, then rudimentary drums so I could fill in with a simple beat whenever we played an acoustic session. Then I began singing backup harmonies, something I'd been able to do since childhood. Now I sing a few leads but my voice isn't what it I'd like it to be.
Although I don't play an instrument, it turns out I had a hidden talent. I'm a natural Sound Guy. I don't understand technically what's going on inside a mixer but I have 'the ear', the ability to listen from the audience's perspective and mix all the components so it sounds right. Here's what a Live Sound Engineer does. In our setup, the guitarists and bass player have their own amplifiers that they control to produce the sounds they want and if I make a suggestion about volume they'll adjust it. All the microphones are connected to a powered mixer where adjustments are made so that each person's voice sounds the best it can and is equalized for volume so everyone can be heard. Every venue has its own challenges, for example, a small restaurant will have dramatically different settings than a dance hall or an outdoor event. 'Playing' the mixer turned out to be, after all, playing an instrument and now I feel that I'm an essential part of the band.
Most gigs last about 4 hours and the band has done their best to make the audience happy. We don't stick to a particular set list, the main singers have lots of songs to choose from. Each audience and each night is a little different, a Friday night might be full of people who have had a long week and are responding well to some good solid rock 'n' roll and blues. A Saturday night crowd could be people who have been out running errands all day or having some fun with their families and are up for lots of dance music. When the audience starts to respond to certain songs with appreciation we know to do more of that. Then, for variety, we mix it up, which they appreciate all the more. Sunday Jam Sessions, which we host twice a month, are usually a good mix with guest artists who have dramatically different styles and genres.
As this is live music, not a single song is played exactly the way it was recorded and released. The experience is utterly ephemeral, completely dependent on the interpretation of each musician. Each singer has most likely changed the key to suit their own voice and our crew can play any song they've ever played before in any key. In fact, they're so skilled that if they or a guest singer can sing a song, the band can fake it through the first verse and chorus, by which time they've learned it. Their favorite response to "Do you know ________...?" is "We will in a minute.". It's not a boast, the band as it stands, 3 instruments and 2 singers (but everyone sings), has a combined total of about 170 years of stage experience.
There are rituals involved in setting up for a gig; evaluating the room to see what the setup should be, taking into account the players and where they should be placed, wiring, sound check, playing, breaks and visiting with the audience, breaking down and going home. Breaking down is my favorite. I call it Closing Time.
The regular time for gig at local bars is 9pm-1am and closing time in Texas bars is 2am, so we're usually finished breaking down and driving off when the bar closes. When the show's over we thank the audience sincerely and tell them when we'll be appearing next, and the next time there's live music at this venue, and put in a plug for the next band. Then I quickly walk over to the mixer and turn it off. Sometimes people forget the mics are still on and say something they wish they hadn't. Better to be safe than sorry.
As we begin unplugging wires from the mixer, the mics, the speakers and monitors, we begin visiting with each other. Everyone helps with breaking down and loading up the band van.. The musicians discuss how this or that song went well, or they apologize for 'messing up that part of...'. We wind down slowly from performance mode, which includes a lot of adrenaline.
The bartender turns the jukebox back on. Sometimes we hear a song we like and decide to learn it. We proceed to roll up cords and put them in cases, fold up microphone stands, music stands and speaker stands, put electrical equipment back in its designated cases and haul it out to the van and load up. We catch up with the lives of our friends, the other band members, who are much like family, perhaps more so because we have music in common and sometimes see them more often than we see our families.
The bartender pays us for the evening. I add in the tips and pay everyone. When we're wound down enough, we wash our hands (bars with dance floors aren't that clean), hug all our friends-this is Texas, anyone you've known more than an hour is a friend- and hit the trail. The ride home is mostly quiet, with spurts of "That was great, that was so damn great, how do we deserve to have that much fun with people we care about and get paid for it?" Coming down from a performance high is sad and sweet. We're well aware that this evening was a transient experience, a snapshot, a moment that will never occur again. And we did good.
Lyle Lovett wrote a song about it.
Closing Time by Lyle Lovett
The night she is a true companion They shuffle in, they hear the sound But by night's end it's night's abandon You look across the floor ain't anyone around
[Chorus] Closing time Unplug them people And send them home It's closing time
Now Kenny he's been mixing sound all evening Sometimes I think that boy he ain't got no ears And Kathy's laughing, Kathy's always laughing Well keep on laughing Kathy, just make it out of here
[Chorus]
So stack those chairs upon those tables And stack those empties upon that bar And count your money, and count my money And hear those bottles ringing, you know where you are
[Chorus]
The night's all that's left behind You take your part and I'll take mine And go on home It's closing time