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A Dadolescent Rocker is a guy who, after a Saturday afternoon spent choosing cushion covers with his wife, finally says enough is enough and decides to rekindle a teenage dream. He goes online and orders a brand new, cherry red Fender Stratocaster guitar from Andertons.co.uk. It’s an American-made one. A good one. Expensive. One like the pros play. The Dadolescent Rocker’s goal is to recreate the muscular guitar style of certain famous players in the Classic Rock/Blues Rock genre. In rank order, the most-admired and emulated players are:
More than simply emulating these guitarists, Dadolescent Rockers (DRs) aim to recreate, precisely and in fine detail, the original versions of their famous guitar songs. The “tone” must, of course, be spot on: being a DR often goes hand-in-hand with a degree of gear-nerdery. The original guitar solos must be replicated note-for-note. Transcriptions of the solos are bought from online teachers. DRs often go as far as to recreate small mistakes the famous guitarist made on the original recording. This insistence on attempting an exact replication of the original guitar parts always seemed odd to me for a couple of reasons:
Other typical DR behaviour when first playing in a band:
Summary DRs are new to the game. They may have played a little in their youth, but have only picked up the guitar again recently, within the last couple of years. Some DRs will advance to a good level quickly and some will not. If you meet a DR who is exhibiting the traits mentioned above, then perhaps you should avoid them in a band context, at least for the time being. A novice DR would rate around 8/10 on the musician toxicity scale. You’ll end up wasting a lot of time trying to correct certain aspects of their band playing and you’ll also waste a lot of time continually asking them to be quiet between songs at rehearsals, so that some discussion of those songs can take place. Those DRs who have already been in a band or two are a much better bet.
Mark Baxter (c) 2024
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In this blog post… Graham Stove fails to tame HAL 9000. Blazing guitar solos vs. plink-plonk guitar solos. A sleek, red Ferrari vs. Charlie Chaplin’s car. Careless Santana and his tiny 5-inch speaker. Tambana’s gig at the yacht club. Dave Perry does an amusing impression of a microphone. In blog post #4, we looked at a common character who you can expect to meet when playing in rock bands and at open-mics and jam sessions. Namely, the Gear Nerd. The Gear Nerd is obsessive about equipment. He must have the optimal guitars, amps and pedals. The gear aspect of making music is more important to him (invariably the Gear Nerd is a guy) than other aspects, such as learning how to play the chord G or how to play a C major scale. The exact opposite of the Gear Nerd also exists: The Gearophobe. A classic example of the gear-phobic guitar player was a former guitar student of mine who played in one of the student bands I organized. The band was called Philosoraptor. The guitar player was called Graham Stove. Graham Stove Graham Stove owned a large guitar amplifier. It was a so-called modelling amp, with an LCD screen, lots of small buttons and many options in terms of guitar sounds. Unlike the typical Gear Nerd, who would probably spend upwards of 10 hours researching an amp before purchasing, Graham, being a gearophobe, had not researched this amp at all. He had simply popped into his local guitar shop on a Saturday afternoon and bought it on the recommendation of the salesperson. Graham’s amp turned out to be a liability. It behaved in totally unpredictable ways and seemed to have a mind of its own. Sometimes, one of us would try to make a simple adjustment to the amp, for example lowering it’s volume slightly. The amp would then inexplicably switch to a different preset (sound). What had been a nice clean sound was all of a sudden transformed into full-on Scandinavian death metal. And then we would spend ages trying to find the clean preset again. I christened the amp “HAL 9000” after the disobedient computer from the film 2001: A Space Odyssey. After wasting time at several rehearsals, I concluded that Graham would never get around to reading the amp’s manual and we could not rely on him to gain control over HAL 9000 any time soon. So, I suggested he borrow a more ‘normal’ amp from a fellow Philosoraptor band member for future rehearsals and gigs. When borrowing this other amp though, Graham’s approach was similarly non-interventionist: he would simply plug his guitar into the amp and switch it on. Job done! Whatever sound happened to come out of the amp at that moment was Graham’s sound for the rest of the evening. No attempt was made to improve the sound to better suit the music we were trying to play. Even the simple controls (especially compared to those of HAL 9000) were too much for Graham to be bothered with. His “hands-off” approach caused two main problems…
Careless Santana My old band, Tambana, once had a gig at a yacht club in Cornwall in the U.K. The guitarist, Careless Santana, considered his small practice amplifier to be sufficient to play this gig. His thinking was that amp size doesn’t matter: the sound engineer can position a microphone in front of the amp and run the sound it captures though the big speakers of the P.A. system. This is true to an extent, but perhaps not when the amp is a very cheap one with a speaker measuring an unimpressive five inches, as was the case with Careless Santana’s amp. Despite the band’s reservations about his little amp, Careless assured us that all would be fine at the gig. At the gig, Careless positioned his tiny amp on the floor beside himself. The top of the amp was at a level just slightly higher than the tops of my Dr. Marten’s boots. Dave Perry was the sound guy that evening. At Careless’s request, Dave positioned a mic in front of the tiny five-inch speaker of the amp. When Careless was out of earshot, Dave did a funny impression of the microphone, looking left and right as if searching for something and saying “What am I supposed to do?” That evening, Careless Santana’s guitar sound had all the warmth and charm of a handbag rape alarm. Summary As I mentioned in blog post #4 (Gear Nerds), musicians need to have some okay gear and know how to use it. See the end of blog post #4 for my advice on basic gear for guitarists to play local rock gigs.
(Some names of individuals and bands mentioned in this blog post were changed to protect identities.) Mark Baxter (c) 2024 This blog post is part of a series of three posts on the subject of Chaotic Divas. In the previous two posts we looked at three examples of Chaotic Divas: Colin Europe, Fabiola Tantrums and Foxy California. We witnessed the destructive mayhem a Chaotic Diva can cause. In this final post on the subject, we’ll examine two last examples: Hugh Jazz and Hairy Styles. We’ll also delve into how to defend your band against the destructive tendencies of a Chaotic Diva and discuss when to say enough is enough and mercilessly throw them out of the band. Chaotic diva #4: Hugh Jazz Sometimes a talented instrumentalist can be as troublesome and tiresome as a singing diva. For example, consider two jazz greats, Charlie ‘Bird” Parker and Django Reinhardt. There are many stories about these two not showing up for concerts. People would be sent out to find them and bring them to the gig. The other musicians would be waiting. The audience would be waiting. Eventually Bird might be found high as a kite with a needle in his arm at his dealer’s apartment in New York. Django might be found fishing on a riverbank on the outskirts of Paris. They would then need to be persuaded to come to the gig where they were the main attraction. Hugh Jazz was a well-renowned violinist who had played with some European jazz greats. On the advice of my friend, Gary, a bassist, I hired Hugh for a swanky corporate gig. We were to play some sophisticated jazzy background music as a trio to about 200 diners in a large events hall in Brussels, Belgium. The diners would be dressed up in formal wear: suits and ties and cocktail dresses. Hugh committed to one short rehearsal before the gig. But, don’t worry, Gary assured me, Hugh is a professional and a great improviser. He knows what he is doing. You’ll see, it’ll be alright on the night. As band leader, I had been told by the event organizer that we musicians must wear suits and ties. I relayed this info to Gary, who in turn passed on the message to Hugh Jazz. The day of the gig I was standing next to the event organizer when Hugh turned up at the gig. We both turned to look at him as he walked across the large dance floor toward us. The organizer’s mouth was hanging open slightly. She looked a little shocked. Hugh had chosen, for this glitzy occasion, the following ensemble: an over-sized and moth-eaten brown corduroy jacket, a large and colourful silk tie with Homer Simpson’s face on it (the kind of thing an eight-year old might buy his grandfather for Christmas circa 2003) and a pair of scruffy desert boots. His blond hair was unkempt and all over the place. His shirt and trousers were extremely creased. Imagine taking a sheet of tin foil, scrunching it up into a ball and then trying to flatten it out again. That’s the level of creasing I’m talking about here. He had obviously dug his shirt and trousers out from the bottom of the laundry basket one hour ago and directly put them on. I had to laugh when Hugh opened his case and brought out a highly unusual fluorescent pink electric violin! (He had played a lovely old acoustic violin at the rehearsal.) Hugh’s overall appearance was one of a naked man who had been covered in glue and thrown through a charity shop window. After a brief sound check, Hugh headed directly to the free bar, whereupon, in a short space of time, he managed to get totally s**t-faced. He then started flirting with the event organiser, who blushed and all-of-a-sudden hurried away to attend to an urgent matter elsewhere. When it came time for us to play, Hugh slowly staggered up to the stage. He then proceeded to play a great two hours of largely improvised music, just as Gary had promised he would. At the end of the evening, Hugh Jazz interrupted the gentle hum of 200 people involved in after-dinner chat to announce to them that we, the band, were leaving. He did this by shouting, there being no vocal microphone. This totally killed the cool, sophisticated atmosphere of the event that we were hired to embellish. The conversation in the hall stopped dead and the guests looked around in all directions to see where the commotion was coming from. Hugh then introduced Gary, me and himself to the diners. We each received a somewhat reluctant but polite round of applause. The event organiser had hired me to put together bands for events a few times before. These gigs were always very well paid. This was the last time she hired me. Chaotic Diva #5: Hairy Styles I used to play in a band called The Tingly Sensations with singer Hairy Styles. Hairy was a handsome guy and very popular with the ladies. He wore skin-tight leather trousers. And he didn’t just wear them on stage: he also wore them to take the bus to Tesco’s on Tuesday mornings to do his weekly shop. Hairy was a good frontman but he had a couple of quirks. One was drinking to excess and the other was impish mischievousness. Hairy could get away with a fair degree of cheeky behaviour due to his good looks. Inappropriate announcements Hairy Styles’ chief amusement in life was to make inappropriate announcements over the microphone to the audience. For example, he would announce that a famous and much-loved musician, such as Paul McCartney or Eric Clapton, had sadly passed away earlier that day. These two musicians were still very much alive at this time, a fact that the audience would only discover over the following days, weeks or perhaps months. In an age before smartphones, Hairy’s sad news could not immediately be verified by audience members and they automatically assumed he was telling the truth. Surely no one would joke about such a thing? Well, yes someone would as it turned out. And that someone was Hairy Styles and his perverse sense of humour. After Hairy’s solemn announcement, an air of melancholy would hang over the audience as the band started to play a cover of either Yesterday or Tears in Heaven. Another way that Hairy would amuse himself onstage was by shouting out odd and sometimes deeply offensive slogans. One of his favourites was “Free Nelson Mandela!”. Nelson Mandela WAS free at this time. In fact, he had been the president of South Africa and had since retired from being the president of South Africa. He had been free a long time. “Respect the c**k!”, was another Hairy Styles favourite: a phrase Tom Cruise’s character shouts in the 1999 film Magnolia. Surprisingly, these slogans would very often get a round of applause from a portion of the audience. I have a photograph of Hairy taken after one gig. He is lighting up a bong under a sign saying “Strictly no drugs allowed on the premises”. We most probably didn’t get asked back to some venues due to Hairy Styles’ high jinks. Conclusions about Chaotic Divas. The five cautionary tales you have read over the course of these last three blog posts... Colin Europe, Foxy California, Fabiola Tantrums, Hugh Jazz and Hairy Styles show the detrimental effect a Chaotic Diva can have on a band. They can annoy band mates, erode team spirit and morale, waste time and lose the band gigs. However, you may still need a Chaotic Diva for the energy, creativity and star quality they bring to the band. They do tend to be great performers. They tend to have stage presence. Shoe-gazing guitarists and drummers hiding behind their cymbals need an outrageous frontman or frontwoman to compliment their talents. Audiences love an over-confident narcissist for some reason.
So, how should you deal with a Chaotic Diva in your band? My advice is to, frankly, treat them like you would a small child. The big mistake band members often make is in failing to identify a Chaotic Diva as such in the first place, and then continuing to treat them like a grown adult. When a Chaotic Diva starts being disruptive and annoying, call out their behaviour. When they start requesting new songs at a rate the band will struggle with, keep telling them why these songs cannot all be attempted right now. Maybe we can play them later. If they turn up late for rehearsals regularly or are not doing their share of the logistical side of things, let them know that this will soon start to piss off their fellow band members. Obviously, take them to one side to tell them this. No need to spank their bottoms in public. And, when a Chaotic Diva behaves well, reward them with a visit to MacDonald’s and a Happy Meal. Seriously though, my experience is that Chaotic Divas don’t respond badly to being kept in check occasionally, if done with a little tact. They’ve been a pain in the ass before. This is not new behaviour for them. Somebody has undoubtedly told them that they were being a pain in the ass before. Everyone lived and it was fine. So, you can do the same. Telling them straight is how you quell their destructive tenancies before they become a problem. Accept the small risk that they leave the band in a huff. Of course, you’ll also want to perform a cost/benefit analysis from time to time, to check whether the magic a Chaotic Diva brings to the band is worth all the hassle they cause. If the Chaotic Diva becomes too much to handle, kick them out without remorse and look for a less troublesome replacement. Lastly, it’s important to remember that a Chaotic Diva should not really have a superiority complex in an amateur band playing gigs at The Dog and Duck on Thursday evenings for £50 and two free beers each. This concludes this series of three blog posts on the topic of Chaotic Divas. Hopefully, after reading these posts, you’ll be better able to spot one in the wild and also better able to assess whether their talent outweighs the amount of havoc they cause. (Some musician and band names have been changed in this article to protect identities.) Mark Baxter (c) 2024 In part one of this series of blog posts on Chaotic Divas, we defined what a Chaotic Diva is. We also met Colin Europe of The Shiny Exciters and witnessed the destructive forces he unleashed when left to his own devices. In this post, part two of three, I will introduce you to two more Chaotic Divas I have personally encountered over the years. More mayhem will ensue... Chaotic diva #2: Foxy California I only ever met Foxy California on one occasion, for about eight minutes. And during this time, I didn’t speak a single word to her. Nor did my friend Dave London. Despite the briefness of this encounter, Foxy California really made Dave and me sweat! It all happened at an open mic event held in a large bar one Sunday evening years ago. Dave and I were sitting on chairs on stage: he was singing and we were both playing our acoustic guitars. We had just finished our first song and were about to launch into our second song when suddenly, out of nowhere, some lady appeared onstage and snatched the mic away from Dave. She was a tall, mature black woman wearing high heels, shoulder pads and a side-slit dress, which seductively revealed a sliver of her left leg from ankle to hip. On her head was a wide-brimmed hat cocked at a jaunty angle. She had the impressive stage presence of Grace Jones (a 1980s pop icon). Foxy California spoke to the crowd who immediately woke up and got excited. Especially the older gentlemen in the audience. This was going to be way more entertaining than two blokes in jeans playing guitars. She turned to us and said, “Summertime. Key of A minor”, and then swiftly launched into the opening lyrics of Gershwin's classic by herself, beckoning us to join her. After figuring out she was actually singing in F minor, Dave, who somewhat knew the song, was able to back her up. I did not know this song at that time, and so I sat there doing nothing, not wanting to make myself more conspicuous by standing up and tip-toeing off the stage. Dave made several mistakes during the song, including some bad ones, which didn’t seem to knock Foxy California off her stride at all. It was a powerful performance by her and she got a huge round of applause afterwards. Before the applause died down, Foxy California suddenly turned to Dave and me and said “Fever in A minor” before proceeding to sing it in Bb minor. She got lucky with this song choice. I had just learnt this Peggy Lee song for a project with another singer and so I was able to follow along. It was Dave’s turn to sit there like a numpty this time. This song also finished to great applause. Foxy California took an extravagant bow, walked off stage, vanished into the audience, and we never saw her ever again. Singers who don’t play a musical instrument generally have little appreciation of musicians’ capabilities. Hence strolling up to two scruffy dudes playing 1990’s Britpop at an amateur night and expecting them to know and instantly play old songs from the 1930s and 1950s! Chaotic diva #3: Fabiola Tantrums Fabiola Tantrums was the lead singer of the band Jet Blonde. Two of the musicians in Jet Blonde were students of mine and they would sometimes complain to me about her chaotic and diva-like behaviour. This behaviour would ultimately result in the band falling apart, something I’m sure Fabiola never intended to happen. In fact, I’m pretty sure Fabiola would be shocked to hear me laying any of the blame for the downfall of Jet Blonde at her feet. According to my students, Fabiola’s behaviour included:
Fabiola’s insistence on the band being polished before she would start coming to rehearsals was not a good idea. The Jet Blonde guys found it difficult to play through songs without a guide vocal. They were not good enough at that stage to keep the vocal melody in their minds while playing. They would lose their place in the music when rehearsing without Fabiola. Gradually, the musicians began to lose interest. Their rehearsals became fewer and fewer. The upshot of all this was a disastrously unprepared for gig at Scaramanga’s Bar. Just like the Colin and Valerie Europe debacle at Montgomery’s years before (mentioned in the first part of this blog on Chaotic Divas), Jet Blonde struggled through their set with uncertain playing, many mistakes and muted applause from the audience. And, approximately halfway through their second set, the worst thing that can happen to a band on stage apart from death by electrocution occurred: a train wreck (i.e., stopping abruptly and prematurely mid song). Unlike the landlord at Montgomery’s, the promoter at Scaramanga’s told the band immediately after they came off stage that he would not be hiring them to play again. The band quickly fell apart after the loss of this prestigious and regular gig. While the blame for Jet Blonde’s downfall does not lie solely at Fabiola’s feet, she did play a significant part in eroding the band’s team spirit and morale. She introduced a kind of infection which quickly spread to the rest of the band and eventually killed off its host. This was part two in a series of three articles on the topic of Chaotic Divas. In the final instalment, we’ll cover the following…
(Some musician and band names were changes in this article to protect identities.) Mark Baxter (c) 2024 |
Blog: How to form a rock band. Also, how NOT to form a rock band.About this blog
These blog posts contain info I would like to pass on to my music students when they form their first bands and start to play live gigs. I explain more here in my first blog post.
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Mark Baxter, musician, music teacher, guitarist, bassist, drummer. English expat living in Belgium.
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