AiMinG For PerFecTion BY STEVE COOK
If you ever took music lessons, you were probably told to play your scales until
they were “perfect.” We would labor to
get them right, but even if every tone was
smooth and even—with every note the exact
same length, intensity, and volume—the
execution would still not be perfect. It could
be excellent, or possibly even world-class,
but not perfect. The more worldly instructors know that this is an impossible task, yet
they encourage us to aim high. Perfection is
the level we should try for in everything we
do—from musical performance to how we
carry ourselves to how we set up our gear—
because the closer to perfect we can get, the
less room there is for error.
When you sign that imaginary contract
to become a professional musician (now I see
why the high school guidance counselor didn’t
have a booklet on this occupation), then your
goal should always be perfection. You want to
nail the audition. You want to play the show
perfectly. You want your gear to work flawlessly every time. But since this is real life we are
talking about, we all know this really doesn’t
happen. There are just too many factors at
play that get in the way. It’s one thing to have
a perfect show day, but it is another thing
all together to know when that day is falling
short and how have the mindset to overcome
the hurdles keeping you from your goal.
Recently, we had a one-off show that
took us from Nashville to Cedar Rapids,
Iowa. One-offs are easy—you get on the
bus, do a show, and then head right back
home. It’s a simple concept, and since we’ve
done this hundreds of times, the situations
almost run themselves. Almost.
The first problem we had was with the
trailer, which caused a four-hour delay and
pretty much set the tone for the day. Instead
of a soundcheck or even a decent line check,
we were shifted from our plan of a comfortable load in and setup to what is known
as a “throw and go.” Our setup is not that
complex and our crew can usually have us
up and running in no time at all. Take away
the video walls, “ego ramps,” and the moving
lights and smoke, and our setup is essentially
not much different from that of a local bar
band. At its core, it’s still a guitar or bass
going into an amp that’s plugged into the PA.
Until the problems set in. Without the
benefit of a soundcheck, we just ran through
the signals of each instrument, and of course,
there was no signal from the bass rig. There
Steve Cook combats a truckload of technical difficulties at a recent outdoor festival: No signal due to a faulty DI, a funky
mix from having to re-route his signal, and
a malfunctioning mic—all of this on top of
an empty stomach.
is nothing worse than being the cause for a
show delay, especially since I pride myself on
having my gear in top working order. But as
stressful as it is, that moment of imperfection is not the time to worry—it’s the time
to fix it and get it right. For no apparent
reason, my preamp DI decided not to work,
even though it was 100 percent just two days
prior. The minutes seem like hours trying to
fix the problem, and since I didn’t have the
benefit of a bass tech, I was behind the rig
getting things back up and running.
As the show began, other little imperfec-
tions popped up. While the bass issue was
fixed with re-routing, the gain was now
way off from the normal mix and everyone
onstage was needing adjustments. It didn’t
help that monitor world (the catchy insider
name for where the monitor engineer is
stationed) was offstage and below our field
of vision. And this meant the engineer had
to make an adjustment, then move to where
we could see him, and then go back to the
console. I think he walked a mile in 30-foot
increments during that 60-minute set. Then
my microphone went out (the gnomes had
it in for me that day), the drummer’s snare
broke onstage, and the piano was having
issues as well. Take into account that we
hadn’t eaten or showered, and it suddenly
had the makings for “one of those gigs we’ll
always talk about.” But in reality, it wasn’t
that bad.
STeve cook
has been fighting his rock-star frontman
urges for decades, holding down the low
end for such artists as Steve Cropper, Sister
Hazel, and Phil Vassar. Join in his “touring
therapy” on Twitter @shinybass.
