Practical MIDI

November 22, 1963. (Kennedy Assassination)
February 9, 1964. (Beatles on Ed Sullivan)
June 28, 1966. (?)
December 8, 1980. (John Lennon Murdered)

And there you have it—four important dates in my life. To the rest of the world, though, it would appear that there are only three important dates to remember. Maybe so, but that's because the rest of you weren't members of The Dimensions — my first band.

So, while this particular memory may mean nothing to most of you out there, I can rest assured that at least three other people will find this column amusing, if nothing else. Maybe my memories will mesh with your first band job memories.

There were four of us that summer day. I was 15 and played lead guitar. Don, my rhythm guitarist was 16 and had his driver’s license and was able to drive us to the jobs. Dan, the bassist was also 16 but our drummer, Randy, was just 13, but had already had 7 or 8 years experience with other bands. A child prodigy, you might say.

Our first job turned out to be on the beach of a local bar. None of us was old enough to even get inside, so they set us up outside. Our experience to this point was ZIP. We didn’t know that if you set a mic stand in the sand and hit it with your lips while grasping an electric guitar that it could curl your hair. We found out the hard way. This was before the days of sophisticated P.A. systems and all we had to sing out of was a Fender Showman amp with mics plugged into the guitar channels. Some of you guitar players know that the treble setting can be cranked up for a guitar, but plug a mic into that same channel with those same setting and it’ll cause a squeal that’ll attract dogs from three counties. Another lesson learned on the job.

Let’s discuss the monetary rewards of playing live jobs. With four members to split the take, we each went home that day with ZIP. And that wasn’t our only freebie job in those early days. I dare say we played probably fifty jobs during our first two years in the business and twenty of those were freebies. Back then a regular paying job was $75.00, or $18.75 each. A deluxe job was $100.00. These days I wouldn’t get out of my easy chair to take the whole kitty if it amounted to that, but back then it was big money for a teenager. My first year of playing netted me a grand total of $222.50 for all of 1966. These days I can take that much home in one good night.

Money and equipment lessons aside, there was also the experience of singing in public for the first time. Up until that day I had never sung in public and was not about to start now. I usually stood there with my guitar and my dark glasses and hardly dared look at anyone throughout the song. I was a shrinking violet who shunned the spotlight and the audience. During the breaks, the other guys would be out there glad-handing and taking the compliments in stride. I was usually found sitting by myself on the sidelines until it was time to play again. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. It definitely got the ol’ heart pumping and brought a pint of sweat to my palms. Kinda like a roller coaster ride, which is a perfect way to describe those early days.

Appearance was all-important back then. Although we tried to grow our hair in the Beatle-style that was so popular, our dads usually weren’t far off with the electric clippers to make sure our ears showed. We did, however, pick out four identical shirts that told everybody who saw us that we were a group. Granted, flowered Hawaiian shirts with solid red ties didn’t exactly make the fashion statement of a rock star, but it was a novelty that we just couldn’t resist.

One last memory that seems to stay with me to this day is that of standing behind the curtain on stage at our local armory, opening for a national act. You can’t imagine the feeling of the curtains opening and seeing 400 kids standing there looking up at us and feeling like real rock stars. It didn’t immediately dawn on us that they were really there to see the headliners and that we were really there so that the headliners’ crew could tweak the P.A. system while we played. We were the Guinea Pigs, so to speak, but still it was a thrill.

Let’s jump ahead 37 years to my last job, last weekend. The other band guys are long gone and it’s just me with my guitar and keyboard and MIDI files and between songs I can carry on a conversation with the audience like a professional standup comic. These days I never get nervous or scared before a job, even when I was chosen to open for some nationally famous acts. It’s just another job and another paycheck and another chance to play music. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy it. On the contrary. I look forward to every job, not just for the money, but because the music I play takes me back to a simpler and more enjoyable time. In a nutshell—I play my music and I’m a teenager again.

I hope it never ends.

©2002 Bill Bernico for CYBERMIDI.com Downwind Publications