The Boy in the Band
April 12th, 2008 (Life)It all began on a Friday evening at five o’clock. I had taken the day off from work in order to help set things up and make sure everything was just perfect for the first concert I was about to play. It was the first concert any of us in Daikonashi were to play together. Horse Radish Legs. No, that is not what I had eaten for lunch that day; it is what Daikonashi actually means in Japanese. It is also the name of the first rock band I was ever a drummer for. That evening, I didn’t mind so much that I had to carry my entire drum set up on the stage like I have done so many Sunday mornings in preparation for playing at church. Heavy though the instruments were, my spirit was lighter with thoughts of future fame and recognition from my peers from what I hoped would be a successful evening of making music.
The janitor, who couldn’t have been more than a year older than me, met us inside and told us that he would be controlling the sound and making sure everything went smoothly that evening. Feeling a small sensation of nervousness and slightly out of breath from carrying in the excessive amounts of the band’s equipment, I began to put my drum set together and position it on the stage. The correct positioning of the band members is important in order to give the audience an appealing view as well as to make everyone onstage feel as comfortable as possible. This was especially important to me as I yearned for complete perfection on the first night I exposed my talent to my peers.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t always feel like I have to show off in front of my friends. If I know people are watching me though, I usually try to make myself look good at whatever I am doing. Usually though, I end up looking like a fool because I focus too much on what people are thinking about me rather than what I am doing at the moment. For instance, if I am skateboarding in an area with lots of people in it, I will always end up on my face or totally screwing up my jump because my attention is not on what I am attempting to do. This, however, was not exactly foremost in my thoughts as I continued working on setting up for the concert.
After everything was appropriately situated onstage, we decided to get started on setting up the sound system. This means having all the proper cables for every application needed, and can be a difficult process because it does not always go as smoothly as one might anticipate. Fortunately, minimal problems were encountered and, for the most part, things were set up as planned. We found enough microphones for the drums, and after some tweaking, the guitar, keyboard, and bass were properly fed into the soundboard. Quality lighting is another key element that must be correctly prepared before any indoor concert. The light system on this particular stage was far from quality, but we made due with what was there to use. The stage that we were going to play on held a few spotlights, and after putting different colors of cellophane over each one, they gave an effect similar to what we had wanted. The technical details were finally all taken care of.
By this time, I began to notice that more and more people were arriving to hear the bands. Nothing had started yet, but the air of excitement was growing. We were no longer killing time by giving each other henna tattoos and telling stories, but instead were beginning to watch people as they arrived. One thing I must mention at this point is that I went to a private, somewhat preppy high school. Three were a grand total of 80 people in my graduating class and everyone knew each other like they had grown up as neighborhood friends. Abercrombie and Fitch, Old Navy, and Structure dressed most everyone who attended Worthington Christian High School. Because of this, I had not been exposed to very many of the types of people that I met there that night. These were your typical concert people…at least what I think when I think of concertgoers. Chains and baggy pants adorned these new arrivals and they carried a sense of individuality about them. I began to notice that there were also quite a few smokers there. Some people were smoking pot, some were smoking cigars, and others were just running around and having a good time. Everything seemed to be going ok until I realized that the reggae band that was supposed to open for the night had not shown up yet.
As I was sitting there counting down the minutes till things were supposed to get started, I began to think about what it would be like to get up on stage in front of all those people. I had thought before that it would have been nice to have the attention focused on us as a band, but now I was starting to wonder whether that was such a good idea or not. I began to remember back to all the concerts where I had been the one who was in the audience. I always enjoyed them most when I stopped watching the drummer or the lead singer and just danced around and had a good time. Legs kicking and arms flailing, I dance like some sort of ceiling fan that has a crooked blade, but it’s more fun knowing that people can think what they want about me and I don’t care a lick. Soon though, my thoughts came back to the moment at hand and I started to worry that the reggae band may never show up. My fears soon were dissolved however when they arrived, piling out of a smoke filled van, just in time to get things rolling.
As the Jamaicans were up on stage hammering away at their instruments with perpetual smiles plastered on their faces, I was sitting in the audience just imagining what it was going to be like when we got up on stage and started to really get the place moving. Drumsticks flying and guitars wailing, we would be the main event that night with everyone yelling and screaming for more. We would be begged to play more shows and actually make money off of them rather than playing for free. This is how I imagined things would be as I contemplated what a wonderful evening was in store for us. Little did I know however that my drumsticks wouldn’t fly in quite the manner that I had imagined them to.
Eventually, the reggae people were done playing their music and went outside to smoke some more of the herb. It was finally time for Daikonashi to perform. This was what we had been preparing the entire evening to do. We all went up on stage, were announced (our name was pronounced completely wrong of course) and sat down to begin our set. I tried to look out across the crowd, but saw nothing except for purple spots as the lights shown down with all the intensity of a Floridian sun. I could feel tiny beads of perspiration sliding off my skin as I attempted to focus on what was happening. This was the moment I had been preparing for the entire evening. I had set up and waited patiently all night to play, but my moment of fame, if you could call it that, was over almost before I even knew it had begun. The only thing that really remains clear in my mind was how I dropped my drumstick right at the climax of our first song (A kind of tradition came from all this: at every concert that I have played since, without meaning to, I always drop a drumstick at least once while I am up on the stage). I was not thinking clearly through the entire show, which is evident to me by the way things just blurred by as if I was in some sort of crazy dream.
My spotlight of fame was, in actuality, no more than a blink of the eye is to a blind bat. Things didn’t go exactly the way I had imagined that they would, but as the instruments were being packed away and things were winding down for the night, I began to think. I started to self-consciously evaluate my motives for being onstage. Was I playing drums in order to bring glory to myself or to God? I had this on my mind during the drive home, and arrived back at my house in a sentimental mood thinking that you really do learn something new every day. Some days you even learn something that you remember the rest of your life. I will never forget that concert and the life lessons that it taught me.
Is this an updated version of a paper you wrote in h.s.? Just curious, since I remember the title. Do you feel like you have come a long way baby? It brought back the whole evening to me, also—I remember the Harings being there, the W.C. crowd who danced at one point, and that the Reggae guys seemed “not quite there…if you know what I mean” I felt excitement for all of you, and joy that you got the chance to perform, after all the evenings of practice and learning songs. My favorite song was the one about the old man… Does the Crkhouse Band fufill some of that desire to perform? All I know is that I love to hear you play, and get a little thrill when you let go and do your thing!