Part I
Don’t mind me, I’m just playing the bass.
Someone else has the melody; nobody really wants to hear it on this thing. I’ll just weave my way through the harmony, quietly delighting in the delicate balance of science, art, spirituality, expression, and social commentary.
. . . Watching the chords pass by and finding so many relationships; adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing.
. . . Watching the math pass by and finding so much music; melody, harmony, counterpoint, thematic unity.
. . . Feeling the earth vibrate beneath me, stirring my emotions. Feeling my emotions stir, vibrating the earth beneath me.
. . . Feeling the moods shift, feeling the air lighten, feeling hearts break and mend, feeling souls redirect.
I’m in a good place. I trust the others; they know their music and they love mine. I love the others; I know my music and I love theirs. Freedom is at my fingertips, running through the whole of my physical and spiritual self. My head, heart, and hands work in concert.
Our ballasts release, we rise untethered — levitation. Freedom is here for all of us. We revel in it.
It’s a dream. There’s no beginning, no middle, no end. There’s no spectrum at all. We’re all there together but not sure where. There’s no need for answers — just flight; just weightless exploration.
We’ve found love.
We’re playing in the multiverse.
We know the creator because the creator is us.
It’s bounding exhilaration, but soft and calm. It’s bombastic but gentle. It’s fiery hot, but fluid and cooling. Ignited, refreshed, grounded, exuberant.
Invested without risk. Engaged and aware.
Rewarded and accepting the call to return, we descend to the ground, softly. Tenderly welcomed back to terra firma and warmly received with a mindful expectation to share the wisdom and joy of the journey.
Don’t mind me, I’m just playing the bass.
Part II
It’s not rare to be in the midst of work — the work of a bassist, the work of a musicianer, the work of a spiritual guide — and to be simultaneously accosted by the queries of Ms. or Mr. Doe. Mr. Doe wants to hire the band for a private event or a public concert on the horizon. Ms. Doe wants to request a song from her litany of completely unrelated music styles. Neither of them seems to realize that the bassist is currently involved in some higher brain function and its related coordination of advanced, delicately tuned fine motor skills. Neither of them seems to notice that the bassist is still maintaining the time and the harmonic bed without missing a beat or creating unintentional discordance. Neither of them seems to understand that the bassist is busy.
Mr. and Ms. Doe have visited me plenty.
No, Ms. Doe, this 8-piece band that’s currently playing the jazz inspired from the 1920s and 30s doesn’t have Paul Anka, Johnny Horton, or The Righteous Brothers ready to go at your beck and call. OK, if you go away, I might be able to coax us into a Johnny Cash tune . . . but only if you don’t come back up here and ask me while I’m playing my instrument.
No, Mr. Doe, this is not the right time to ask me if we’re available to play your upcoming event. I’m currently soloing . . . it’s my own event and you’re crashing the party. Perhaps, at least, you could wait until the tune has found its end?
I don’t want anyone to feel like musicianers aren’t approachable; I just want to point out that there may be better times and places.
Let’s look at the math . . . just the elementary math; no trig or calc, not even algebra.
During each tune, my job looks mostly like this: outline the chord with the appropriate number of beats, keep time, provide a consistent pulse, understand and honor a particular feel, produce a good tone, use appropriate dynamics, manage a certain amount of percussion.
That’s seven (7) items that require definite attention. That doesn’t include periodically taking an inventory of my body in space and its intelligent use to achieve those seven requirements. Nor does it calculate the very necessary interaction with the other bandmates. What about the constant awareness and ability to mitigate small instrument or gear maintenance issues during songs? We can just keep adding, really . . . singing the song. Seven higher functions that are commonly perceived and translated as “playing” an instrument or music.
My bandmates are doing the same.
Look at the band leader. She’s creating a new interpretation of the melody while deciding who might be most appropriate to take the first solo after her translation. What about the drummer? Four limbs moving independently but in concert while listening intently to that newly minted melody to anticipate and drop stabs that perfectly align with the band leader’s accents. Those other horns? They’re just reading tiny black dots that pass by like lightning flashes, even in the slowest of tunes. That isn’t all, though. Each one is listening to the others, blending in tone, pitch, intensity, all while supporting that melody. Each one is also completely aware of the band leader’s responsibilities; ready to be that first soloist; ready to pad whoever gets called to solo; ready to turn the page, pick up a new mute or a new instrument; even ready with a compassionate smile to acknowledge a moment of true understanding between two souls. The guitarist and pianist are locked into the bassist and the drummer; they know the tune well enough to abandon the page. Without skipping a beat, losing time, or abusing the feel, they’re watching the audience to gauge what’s working; they’re intent on creating and supporting drive and spirit for all while deftly, with no perceivable effort, manipulating a tool that takes years to employ at this level.
Each one of us is immersed and committed to this energy, to discovering and refining a spiritual connection for each other and those who are listening (even those who are not). Each one of us is feeling a bodiless but fully present communication with one another and those whose gathered ears and feet surround us.
Each one of us is doing at least those seven processes.
Don’t mind us, we’re just the band.
Part III
Together, we’re creating something for you that will never be heard this way again; lovingly tailoring a custom fit experience for you, one that can never be taken from you.
. . . We’re weaving a tapestry of experience through a communication that’s felt by all, conscious or otherwise. We’re inviting everyone, the listeners, the dancers, the drinkers, the passers-by, to co-create and explore that tapestry with us.
Each of us has the harmony. Each of us has the rhythm, the feel, the time, the spirit. Each of us finds a way to support the melody, to support each other, to support the beauty. Each of us, as individuals and as a group, co-create a momentary state of something other-than-mundane, something intangible but thriving in some fully present way.
Our ballasts release, we rise untethered — levitation. Freedom is here for all of us. We revel in it.
It’s a dream. There is no beginning, no middle, no end. There’s no spectrum at all. We’re all there together but not sure where. There’s no need for answers — just flight; just weightless exploration.
We’ve found love.
We’re playing in the multiverse.
We know the creator because the creator is us.
The place where we’re going, this place where we are isn’t created accidentally. This place isn’t forged with insistence or force. Neither band nor audience alone builds the experience in a vacuum. This place happens through the merits of a shared respect for and understanding of process and engagement; we hold space for each other, and in doing so, open ourselves to undiscovered planes of awareness.
You are all invited to get on board.
We do mind you — you are part of our process.
We can get away without you; we’re our own audience, and can’t help but be fully engaged. But, your reciprocation can take us to new planes; let’s be co-creators. Let’s see what we can do together.
Do mind yourself, you’re the audience.
Ryan, I feel honored to be so close to such goodness. Thank you for the invitation. Let’s Dance