Shinybass Journal Entry 07/11/2024

The Story behind the Dream 

In a time before podcasts and every single bit of life being online and ‘on demand’, the world used to run on a bit of a different plane. If we had a favorite television show that was broadcast on Mondays at 8PM on CBS, then we had to wait every week for that show to be broadcast at 8. If we missed the start, we could not rewind it, and we had to wait for reruns or later syndication on a lesser channel to see our favorite episodes again.  

My family centered around the TV show M*A*S*H, as did about everyone else in the country during the 70s. Luckily, it hit syndication before it ended its run, so we could watch older episodes before dinner, then watch a new episode on Monday. I know network TV is still a thing, and thankfully we still have some control on releases instead of just vomiting everything a show has to offer at once.  

Although that happens as well, I suppose. ‘Here are our first 6 episodes’. I get the idea. Really, I do. ‘The binge’ is real. Get us to sit for 2-3 hours at a clip. Sometimes (not absolutes here, Phil Rosenthal), the show already sits in my subconscious behind the 8-ball when an entirety of a half season is released at once. Just me, I suppose, but there is a small set of checks and balances where the show should make me want to come back, and the producers are hoping they have swayed my interest enough to remember and care enough to come back week after week.  

Before television programs, we had radio. Favorite shows would come on at various times, and we’d huddle around a wooden rectangle in the living room and be transported to other places with comedy, music, and drama programs tickling our ears and being open to our own interpretation as to what the scene and actors looked like. Opening the mind to interpretation runs across music, art, and books. Movies and TV sort of ‘spoon feed’ us, whereas the other mediums become much more personal.  

Paul Harvey used to tell ‘The Rest of the Story’ 6 times a day for decades on radio. Paul made us feel comfortable and safe, like sitting with a relative on the porch at a gathering.  Paul would start spinning words in such a way that would grab us immediately, and have us waiting in earnest for the next line. As his story unfolded, we would be getting incredible facts and ideas not taught us in the history books. Soon, we would have the ‘reveal’, and Paul gave us a punch line of sorts at the end that would mimic a slight of hand trick. The story would make no sense until he revealed something like ‘and that child grew up to become our 12thPresident’, and we have this great moment of clarity.  

I am a sucker for those behind the scenes stories. I want to know the chaos that people went through in order to get to the result. ‘Get Back’ from the Beatles was amazing, just to see the process of greatness unfold in front of the camera. I love hearing the (sometimes) ordinary inspiration for something iconic and wonderful. One day Steve Cropper and Eddie Floyd were in the Lorraine Motel to meet up with Wilson Pickett. (The Lorraine was the Stax hang back in the day, where they used to swim in the pool and unwind when needed). Steve told me he was sitting on a chair next to the night stand and just hammering number combinations on the phone. All of a sudden one popped that sounded good to him: ‘634-5789’. And now you know the rest of the story.  

But the story is just the beginning, right? Or is it the end? There is a beautiful 140 year-old library nestled in the sleepy Northeastern town of Norfolk, Connecticut. The chairs inside are inviting, as are the beautiful wooden shelves and the maze of staircases within. I have been lucky enough to walk those historic floors a few times (my first visit was a welcome respite from the bitter cold), and settle in to grab a few minutes with a book.

The next time you stroll the aisles of a library, pause for a moment. Let your eyes run down each shelf and pause at the colorful spines of thousands of titles. Now, think of the story each book had to get to the shelf. There had to be an author sitting somewhere, coffee in hand, most likely staring out the window, searching anywhere for the first sentence. Somewhere deep inside the spark is lit, and suddenly (and finally!) the author gets the first words to paper. One step further down the path, and we would see hundreds of hours of effort, self-doubt, personal perseverance and finally a manuscript. Then the ‘real’ work begins getting that book published. It’s exhausting.  

Records are the same way. The steps taken to get a band signed then actually released is a whole big ball of work, and it runs in parallel to just about any artistic endeavor. It’s a brutally tough world to break into and find success. Thankfully (and sometimes not), self-publishing and uploading of music is now an option, so someone’s story can be told and not governed by the powers that be.  

The dream (whatever form the dream takes) lives and breathes. For each of those books out there, each of those bands trying to make their way, there is a spark; there is a dream. Just wanting the dream doesn’tmean it will happen, of course, real work is involved, and sadly that shuts down a lot of dreams rather quickly. The work of getting a band on the stage, getting songs written, playing said songs in a similar key, getting a show together – it’s a LOT. Then multiply that by 100 times a year (or in our case ‘back in the day’) 200+ times a year.  

Not every book is a good one. Not every band is a good one. Unfortunately, not every author consults an editor before self-publishing, and not every band hires a producer for their record. I’m not saying the story isn’t a good story, or the song isn’t a good song. Maybe they need a little ‘shaping’ to bring it to the masses. Regardless, they are TRYING.  

And that is why we should give them a moment of our time. Listening, reading, admiring all cost nothing (ok, maybe a cover charge or Audible download). All the big artists you love started somewhere, and probably in a very small way; getting an article published here or a bar gig there. Then the spark hits the gasoline and boom. They’ve evoked a feeling somewhere for someone. I remember people telling me the favorite part of our show was when I did this little bass slide thing. I mean, to me it was just something I sort of did, and now, strangely, I try to sneak it in every show I play. If I can help make someone smile, then my job is done.  

So stop reading this and go read a book or go watch an indie band on a Tuesday night. You honestly never know the beauty and the story you may find.  

See you on the road!