There’s no gold medal for disregarding everyone’s opinion. And if there was one, that’s a lonely medal stand and no one is cheering.
The whole trick to the entire thing isn’t not caring what people think, but rather knowing who’s thoughts you care about.
And then caring for them consistently.
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Drop me an email: gabe@gabethebassplayer.com
When singing the songs or talking between them…address the different parts of the room.
If you run around the whole time, even running around gets boring.
People love grand finales. Have one.
Don’t hide your mouth.
If you want people to take a picture, give them a look worth taking a picture of.
You sing louder than you talk. Speak up. Louder and clearer.
It’s easier to make it all about the lead singer when you first make it all about the drummer.
No need to stop and apologize for technical problems, just keep putting on a show.
If you want people to dance and they’re not, you’re either playing the wrong song or playing for the wrong people.
If you don’t get it perfect, don’t worry. You get to do another show.
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There’s two really good ways to get better at talking…
Listening
and
Speaking up when you’re afraid to
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It’s more fun to work on something that’s working than something that isn’t.
If you love heavy metal and you’re a struggling heavy metal artist but for some reason when you pick up a mandolin and play a tender song everyone wants a ticket…you have a choice to make.
And I’m not talking about do you wanna play heavy metal music or mandolin music. Because we already know which music you prefer.
I’m talking about what kind of life do you want to live?
The life where you struggle a lot more but there’s honor and lots of personal cool factor there?
Or the life where you sellout theaters and arenas but you’ve gotta play a mandolin instead of a Les Paul?
You don’t have to keep working on the thing that isn’t working.
Chances are you know of a couple things that are working. Go there.
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Drop me an email: gabe@gabethebassplayer.com
It’s been fun to reminisce a bit this week about The Kicks.
Like I said Monday, it was ten years ago that we put out our first album.
And I can’t talk about our first album very long without telling you about Mitch Dane.
We always said that if we could only thank one person during a Grammy speech it would be Mitch.
Mitch was the producer on our first album and the following two. But his contributions were far greater.
Mitch goes first. He’s a true believer. Mitch believes in artists without looking around to see if it’s cool or not to believe. He listens and hears both the music and the person. He speaks on purpose.
He is ultimately cool.
He was the first one to take us in. When we were definitely uncool. When no one was calling or emailing us back, he did. He invited us to his house and we sat on his couch and talked about music for hours.
He knew how to handle four wild eyed guys who had never made a record before. He was a true shepherd. He taught us real music making. He guided us and let us think it was all our idea.
He taught us to play together. To tune after each take. To stand up for ideas. To respect good drum sounds.
The morning coffee was good and the afternoon coffee even better. A studio full of toys and possibilities and vintage guitars and GREAT vocal mics.
But Mitch was the one. His presence is the special thing that makes that studio spin.
Mitch initiated our creative and music making maturity…all the while venturing into the richest of conversations about faith, life, family, love and marriage.
That first record especially was such a joy to make.
So thank you, Mitch. Thanks for going first. We needed that.
***Sputnik Sound
***Juliette
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The Kicks first slam dunk opening slot tour was with Los Lonely Boys.
(And no, we never did find out how far heaven was.)
Like I mentioned earlier this week, most of our touring back then was two or three shows per weekend and then a long drive back to Nashville. But this tour was something like fifteen shows in twenty days. Super exciting and different.
We had a really great manager at the time who sat in on our rehearsals leading up to the tour and that’s when we really started clicking with what it meant to put a show together. So by the time we hit the road our thirty minute opening set was pretty dialed in. Set list, transitions, talking points, rocking.
For the last song there was a down section in the middle where our lead singer would say a little something to the audience. It was a lull in the song for him to say something short or something long, fun, meaningful, funny, whatever came to mind.
It turns out that planning that lull but not planning what he would say was an a pretty enticing invitation for the spirit, the magic fairy dust, the special extra thing to show up. That moment was the best moment of every show on that tour.
The important thing to see here is that the magic fairy dust happened BECAUSE we had a plan, not because the dialogue was unplanned.
Unscripted dialogue within the context of a well planned show.
The well planned show is the invitation for the magic fairy dust to come make the unscripted parts sparkle.
You can find a tour recap video here. And also some vocal warmups.
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Drop me an email: gabe@gabethebassplayer.com