Playing Music For Money

I've been a member of a Jimmy Buffett cover band (Mark and da Sharks) for about a year now, and it has definitely shaped how I view music. We play half Buffett, 30% classic rock, 20% country. It's not the most musically satisfying endeavour of my career, but usually we only play with Yo Yo Ma once. Being a fairly decent steelpan player (at least in my mind), I have a pretty secure spot in the band, as my trade is not widespread yet. Such is not the case for bassists and guitarists. I've seen 3 of these types get thrown out in a year. Three. Three grown men, thrown out of a band that averages 500 bucks a night. Why?

Money.

Fuck money.

We picked up an old Jimmy Buffett song this year, called "Playing Music for Money" and it sort of outlines how I look at music. Maybe I'm just young and naive to the whole industry, but like he states, if he's out to turn the people on, who's turning on him? Good point, Jimmy. I play what I like to play. I write music that I like. Early on Saturday, when we played at the Wild Duck Cafe in Essex, MD, some guy yelled out: "Could you guys play some real music?" My response was simple. I kept playing real music. I kept playing the set lst with the rest of the guys, and we played it well. I mean, Buffett's not quite what I'd call the most smashing musical genius ever, but it's fun and people can get into it. I like to play it, it's easy and when I'm soloing, I can really shape things to fit a more chaotic and bluesy style that Buffett, Chesney, Denver, and the Beatles don't usually have. One guy doesn't like it? Too bad, 5 guys do (That would be us on stage) and I can guarantee that the crowd who is cheering likes it, too.

Back to my point. Money. It ruins music. Our past two long-term bass players, Tim Roberts and Jaime Sanchez, were great men. Absolutely the coolest dudes. They were both somewhere around 50 and met me when I had just turned 19 and accepted me for what I was... another musician. They were both supportive of my playing and I loved being in a band with them. The bond I felt with Tim still hasn't been matched since he left back in July of 2008. Jaime just left the band today. Thrown out by the lead man, Mark... because of money.

The two guitarists who I've been with, Mark Magee and Frank Winterling are also cool dudes. Mark's a great band marketer, and Frank has an amazing friendly quality to him. He, Tim and Jaime have all felt like uncles to me. I can have some beers and talk to them about our lives, and the fact that 26 years stand between myself and them doesn't matter. That's cool. But when money comes to the table, things get nasty. People start bickering and arguing over who should get what cut of the money for this and that and blah blah blah. I don't care about the damn money, I still work, so 120 dollars isn't going to make or break me.

It amazes me how much grown men argue. I'm 20 years old, and I have some friends who get whiney over silly stuff, but these guys go at it and they're 45-55 years old. The leader of the band, Mark, likes things his way, which is not always well-received. I myself disagree with his decisions sometimes, but mostly regarding which songs to do. I don't say much about it though. It's his band, he just pays me to play. It's my band, too, I guess, deep down, but it's his project. That's a good way to say it. His project, our band.

My main concern is what music we play. I want to play well. If I get payed, sweet. I have fun though, whether we're playing as a favor, for 200, or for our 1000 dolar gig we had. It doesn't change the fact that we are a BAND not a BUSINESS. We play MUSIC, not make MONEY. That's the whole fricken problem with things in music. People get caught up in cash and it just sucks. At the gig at WDC on Saturday, things were getting turbulent and tensions were mounting, so I was a little down about the attitudes getting thrown around. This is the part where I go ahead and take my place as "just a kid" and don't get involved. After much bickering, Frank walks over to me and shakes his head. I ask what's the issue, and he responds, "Money. We're a real band, now... Bickering and arguing with each other."

That's the problem. In my youthful naivety, I thought a band was a group of friends who played music, when in reality it's a group of associates who like to play cutthroat to get the most cash possible. Drastic as that accusation sounds, that's how it feels.

When the smoke clears and the Sharks continue our Summer '09 tour around MD, I hope that we all realize somewhere that money isn't everything.