The formation of my punk band is the only thing in my life that is happening ahead of schedule.
My friend and I had a long running joke that we were going to fulfill a mutual lifelong dream and start a band when we were 50. However, over time we decided to jump start our rock star status and started messing around with sound more than a decade earlier than originally planned.
There are a thousand reasons why I shouldn’t be in a band. For starters, I have only been playing bass for six months. I practice almost every day, but still, I register pretty high on the Sucktometer. Also, with two kids and a job and so many other responsibilities, the proverbial full plate is more like a teeming trough.
In fact, there are so many other things I could or "should" be doing with my time instead of making bad sounds in my friend’s basement, and yet my two bandmates and I meet religiously every Thursday night.
It all started one frigid evening in mid-January.
There we were, freezing in Renee’s basement, wearing hats and gloves with the fingers cut off so we could stay warm and still play. But despite the missed notes and flat singing, that night, my band was born in a Riverwest basement, joining the ranks of every other Milwaukee band -- spectacular or craptacular -- that has ever existed.
The first few practices were rough. We practiced for four or five hours at a shot, trying to come up with something that sounded remotely like The Cure’s "Boys Don’t Cry." We were officially a Totally Crappy Basement Band.
However, every week we video recorded ourselves playing a song, and by March, when we watched the clips in succession, we realized we were actually getting better. We elevated our band status from Totally Crappy to Sorta Shatty, and we kept going.
Last night we played our first gig at a friend’s birthday party. It was our maiden voyage from the basement, and the only time we played for anyone or anything other than the washer and dryer. Luckily, the audience -- a whopping 100 people -- was made up of friends who were extremely supportive.
Truthfully, the gig only went OK. Even though we nailed our nine-original-song set multiple times in the basement, on stage we fell in and out of fumbles. There were some great moments where we were really tight, but for the most part, we felt like we could have done better and wished we could have done the set again.
It’s corny to say, but I really learned a lot from this experience and I made a few novice discoveries.
1. We must have monitors when playing outdoors. We are used to playing in an enclosed space, and playing outdoors is completely different. The sound does not bounce back and therefore I could not hear myself or my band mates well enough.
2. Be absolutely certain about lighting. We did our sound check when the sun was still shining, and I really thought we would have enough light once it was evening, but we didn’t. I royally F-ed up one song on account of not being able to see my bass frets.
3. Play slower. At times, nerves took over and we played parts of songs way too fast. I realized playing a gig is like public speaking: always speak or sing at a pace that sounds slow, because it’s probably exactly where it needs to be for the audience.
4. Don’t be afraid to mix up the set list. The drummer wasn’t feeling the song that was next on the set list and she asked quickly if we could play something scheduled for later in the set. The song she was requested was one she felt better about, and so it helped her feel more on top of her game which helped everyone.
5. Recover and put your heart back in it. Messing up on stage has the potential to sink the set, but the key is recover as quickly as possible from the blow of the error and jump right back in with zest.
6. Prepare to be disappointed. Most people told me they messed up more live than they did during practice. I had to remember that even a bad gig to the musician might be a good show for the audience, so I tried not to rip on myself too much when people congratulated me on the show. We are our own worst critics, both in music and life, so I really tried to just congratulate myself for having the girl cojones to get on stage at all.
And, of course, I’m already thinking about the next gig and how much better it will be.
Molly Snyder started writing and publishing her work at the age 10, when her community newspaper printed her poem, "The Unicorn.” Since then, she's expanded beyond the subject of mythical creatures and written in many different mediums but, nearest and dearest to her heart, thousands of articles for OnMilwaukee.
Molly is a regular contributor to FOX6 News and numerous radio stations as well as the co-host of "Dandelions: A Podcast For Women.” She's received five Milwaukee Press Club Awards, served as the Pfister Narrator and is the Wisconsin State Fair’s Celebrity Cream Puff Eating Champion of 2019.
