How Being In Bands Helps Me Train

I’ve been in a few bands in my day, and let me tell you . . . it’s rarely as fun as it sounds.  In many ways, the biggest high I had in rock n roll was coming up with ideas and imagining how cool the band was going to be.  Being in a band is sort of like training for an Ironman . . . it’s a lot of work.

Practicing Technique

My first official band was Stinky Chicken and we played one show at my house. The set list was loaded with Lenny Kravitz and Zeppelin covers and I was so nervous I wore a wig.

I’d been playing drums for about 6 months and really sucked, but loved hearing guitars over my back beats.  Working on cover tunes stretched my nervous system to the limits.  I wanted to let my legs and arms flail at will, but that usually sounded like shit (much like it translates into a crappy run time).

I had to train my brain and muscles in new ways.  Drills in drumming are no different than drills in swimming, biking, and running.  It’s not fun, but they really pay off when it’s showtime.

Training Needs Focus

My next foray into the glitzy world of rock n roll was with a band we coined Big American Cock.  It was a group of guys who had big ideas, could play fairly well, and evidently thought they had big dicks.  We spent most of our time cooking up marketing plots to conquer the world.   Our practices were free-for-all’s that started and stopped at will.  We melded originals with covers and I honestly don’t think we actually got through a full song without someone stopping to yell at the singer.  We never played a show.

The boys from Big American Cock had no focus and liked the “idea” of being a band more than actually putting together a plan.  It was more fun to slam beers, break shit and talk about how cool we “could” be rather than actually hone our skills into tangible songs that make women throw panties on stage.

Repetition Creates Courage

Brain Kingdom was my third project, and went in the complete opposite direction.  It was just me on drums and Don on guitar.  We met at a rummage sale and practiced almost every night for a year.  We amassed over 20 original songs before we enlisted a bass player and found the courage to play in front of an audience that wasn’t Don’s dogs.

I was so damn nervous before the first show.  I literally felt like I didn’t belong on that stage, which was almost the exact feeling I had before my first triathlon.  But I made it through both, and went on to many more.

I rarely felt comfortable playing drums on stage and the only remedy was repetition.  I had to get up there and do it . . . often.  That’s exactly why I’m planning to sign up for as many tris as possible before I head to Wisconsin for Ironman 2013.  Nerves are my biggest enemy.

Find A Plan and Stick To It

After 25-30 shows with Brain Kingdom, I still kinda sucked, but felt like I was ready for the big time and moved to Nashville (I actually moved here for a marketing job, but music always seems cooler).  As luck would have it, my neighbor –Tommy the DUI lawyer–was a friend with the newly formed Muzik Mafia, which eventually produced Big & Rich and Gretchen Wilson.

Through Tommy and his traveling limousine parties, I met a lovely and talented Muzik Mafia performer named Rachel Kice who challenged me creatively like no one I had ever met.  We launched a new project called King & Queen, rented a one room shack in Ashland City, and wrote songs for 3 days.

While not the most polished, it was (and is) some really cool shit, but for some reason (likely my real job and anxiety) the project never really took off.  It’s kind of a bummer because it was a piano/drum sound that I believe was ahead of the White Stripes and other two person crazes.

In reflection, King & Queen needed more organization.  We spent more time making videos and brainstorming than finishing.  Impulses and ideas were flowed but rewards never came in proportion.  I didn’t give enough energy to actually getting in front of people with our show.  If you wanna race, you have to sign up.

Dreams Come True, Sort Of

Rachel eventually moved to California (but still loves me) and I practiced on my own until Scott asked if I’d sit in for a gig with his band.  “Who, me?  Are you sure?”  He was sure and I quickly learned 10 of their original songs.

The Frolics were a husband (Scott) wife (Amy) fronted kind of a punk rockabilly meets Quentin Tarantino deal and it was way out of my realm.  I was sort of laid back and funky, but now it was time to thrash (which is an exact opposite of my swimming dilemma).

The first show went pretty good and they asked me to stick around.  We played at all the Nashville hipster spots.  Exit/In, The Rutledge, 5 Spot, Foo Bar, and The Muse, which was so punk it didn’t have heat in the middle of January (and has since gone out of business).

I was working very hard on machine gun chops and felt great about the direction of the band.  We had gigs, a hot and talented lead singer, and really cool original music.  I was inspired, confident, and ready to conquer the Ironman of music.  That’s when Scott and Amy told me they were moving to Canada to find a hot chick drummer.

Getting to the Finish Line

So, I guess the Frolics were sort of like my Half Ironman.  We got out and played a lot of shows with nice crowds, but the race ended before I was ready to quit.

Ironman Wisconsin is lurking next September and my experience with trying to create polished bands and sold out shows will certainly play a role in my training.  Anyone can visualize the pretty picture at the finish line, but it’s understanding how to navigate the other 140.6 miles that constitutes the real work.