Rehearsing
I was listening intently to some Louis Armstrong recordings from the twenties en route from Des Moines, IA to Norman, Oklahoma. On the bus, dead of night, hurtling toward a known destination with unknown realities: what would the hotel be like, would we be playing in a nice theater, how’s the food, what surprises good or bad lay in store. The usual questions and anticipation's. Another day on the road. Louis Armstrong’s recordings were a breath of fresh air. I couldn’t stop the smile on my face. The music displayed the very best in musicianship. The c.d. package stated this was the “definitive study of Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five and Hot Seven recordings.” What struck me about the music, later the next day, was the intricacy of the parts. No question that a good deal of it was improvised, but there was a tight structure to the songs, suggesting hard work on the arrangements. I would have loved to have been there at the rehearsals.
The importance of rehearing is obvious. It is where ideas are realized, where songs come to an untimely end because of frustration in figuring out the parts, or succeed beyond anyone’s imagination due to the chemistry of the players and the effect they exert on the arrangement heretofore unknown. Where euphoria is exhibited when a groove materializes out of nowhere, where charts and arrangements are run over in an often perfunctory manner-as a tune up, mainly to insure everyone understands the chart, holding out for the magic when the song is later recorded in the studio or performed live. Rehearsals can be a playground or a place of intense study (many times, both). I look at rehearsing as a refuge, a private place to try out all kinds of things: tempos, different keys, rethinking an arrangement that you’ve played for a number of years that could stand some updating, taking a different approach to a song you’ve recorded and, while not making it unrecognizable, breathing new life into it from a live perspective, which usually involves elongating the instrumental section. But it can certainly entail more than that, a lot more.
The dynamics of rehearsing have always fascinated me. Although my mode of tackling the responsibilities of rehearsing remain pretty much the same in any situation-I want to bring out the best in the song and support the artist-there are differences in rehearsing for Little Feat than for rehearsing for almost anyone else. The main difference, of course, is depth of which I can contribute, or feel I can. In a recording session with another artist, the clock is running and decisions are come to in a quicker manner. Even if you rehearse outside of the studio, the music has usually been through a few layers of preparation by the producer and the artist-instrumentation, the arrangements, which is to say tempo, key, etc. have been thought through, leaving all but very minor adjustments to make, if any. The job is to integrate your part with the rest of the musicians, or simply read the chart and improvise where you can. Serve the song.
Rehearsing with a band is another story. There is more at stake, potentially, in everyone’s decision making on the song, for one thing. In Little Feat we’ve known each other for thirty years or more. The familiarity can work for or against you. I brought in the song Oh Atlanta, a kicking rock and roll song, and was met with less than a enthusiastic reaction. I was ready to give up on it, and then I just figured it was a good song and they would eventually get it. Attitude is what you have to work with, be it a band, or a group of seasoned session players. People are people and can be burnt out or cynical depending on when you catch them. The trick is to bring a passion and conviction to the material, along with constructive tools to bring others into the fold. The key can be as simple as making sure everyone can hear properly.
The setup at rehearsals can be critical. One of the most often overlooked aspect to rehearsing is communication problems with the monitor mixer. Monitor boards are not the most sophisticated even in the best of rehearsal halls. Taking the time to get everyone’s mix can be difficult when there only a few cues. Basically, it takes watching the volumes (this is of course a general statement, but in most musical genres it’s true). Depending on what you’re working on, vocals are sometimes the toughest to get above the fray. Honestly, a great place to start is with the drums. If the monitor volume is not blasting the drummer, he or she is not going to feel they have to hit the drums so hard to keep above their mix. Sound works like a pyramid-one person has it too loud, it’s not long before it permeates everything (bleeding into vocal mics is where much of the problem is). I have rarely seen people ask for less volume in order to hear, when in fact that is exactly what they should be doing.
Placement of the instruments also takes experimentation to get it right. Everyone should be able to see each other, for example. It is invaluable when working up arrangements, especially the ability to signal changes such as dynamics, moving into a new section, or just gauging how everyone is doing. Give yourself every advantage you can.
Lighting can, interestingly, have an affect. Knowing when to incorporate it is sometimes used too early in the process. I’ve been in rehearsals where mood lighting-turning the lights down low-is used before anyone even has the arrangement together. For me, the time to bring the lights down is after everyone can hear properly and a good grasp of the arrangement(s) are understood by all, allowing everyone to play freely. Jamming with mood lighting? Yes, it works. The object of jamming is exploration, pushing the limits...and fun, letting loose.
Jamming is one thing, working up songs is quite another. I like to mix and match when possible to provide a advantageous pace. Leadership at rehearsals, like every other aspect, is important on providing focus to the task at hand. Giving direction is essential. I’ve worked with charts, and without. My focus is what the players are comfortable with. It’s not necessary to read charts, but it can take a bit longer sometimes. Patience is in order, aggressive patience. Making changes in the music and keeping the players attention is easier said than done. I tend to rehearse complicated songs in sections. For example, I’ll rehearse only the first verse and chorus, particularly if the second verse is just a bit different. Once the changes are absorbed, I move on through the song, again, in stages. It is less frustrating in the long run and allows for confidence in the performance. What I’m striving for is to get players to make the song their own. It doesn’t mean I don’t have specific parts for people to play. The direction I provide has air tight passages, particularly in the bass-much like figured bass parts in some of the classical pieces I was brought up playing piano and pipe organ on. I do, however, allow for leeway in the parts once the song is learned. This latitude in decision making produces some great results, usually. If not, I still have the original parts to fall back on, provided they worked as I thought they would. Rehearsals are for making those adjustments, large or small.
One tricky area can be guests. I’ve been to many rehearsals, many sessions, where guests are invited prematurely to witness the music making process. It happens innocently enough. Someone is in town, friends or family want to stop by. All good unless you are unprepared. What having guests there too early in the proceedings does is bring up the level of embarrassment if everything is not just right. It becomes difficult, at best, to get into an earnest discussion of someone’s part if their friends are there. No one wants to look bad. Take the pressure off of yourself and those you’re working with and keep people out until a time is agreed upon to have them there. If you’re in for a week’s rehearsal, either before a tour, a gig, or a recording session(s), you might want to have a dress rehearsal at the end of the week. Having guests at that point can be to your advantage. It gives you a chance to go into full performance mode. If things go wrong, it’s better in front of fewer people than at a gig. Again, it allows for adjustments.
Rehearsals all translate into performance values. Even Bob Dylan, who shied away from rehearsals whenever possible, had his own method for not rehearsing. More than likely, he wanted his music to sound as loose as the blues recordings he grew up listening to and loved. The overall intent of what you are after in your music should reflect how you rehearse. It means being prepared in what you want before you walk through the door. From there, take advantage of all the possibilities. Collectively, your music and your musicianship are the beneficiaries of the experience.
Bill Payne
(on the bus somewhere between)
Vicksburg, Mississippi and Chattanooga, Tennessee
September, 2001
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