The Guitarist Who Never Learned the Bridge
Sub gig. The guitarist skipped the bridge three times at the same wedding. I signaled. He nodded. Did it again. Wedding bands survive on eye contact and deni...
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Wedding Season Laryngitis and Still On
Four weddings this weekend. Voice shot. Singer called in sick. I covered leads and sax. Wedding bands are marines of joy. The crowd did not know. I knew. Ice...
The Open Mic Host Said I Need a "Lighter Set"
I read poems about war and breakups. The host suggested lighter material. The audience clapped anyway. World on fire and I am asked to juggle. No. Poetry is...
The Wedding Band Played Our Song Wrong on Purpose
Wedding gig last night. The bride requested our song at 11 p.m. We had already played it eight times. The drummer flubbed the intro on purpose — a tiny rebel...
I Forgot the Bridge and the Room Forgave Me
Senior moment on stage. Mind went blank mid-bridge. Forty years of muscle memory failed for four seconds that felt like four years. The bassist caught the fo...
The Young Pianist Played My Voicings Wrong on Purpose
Gig at the wine bar. Kid on keys, twenty-two, played my voicings from the chart, then started substituting like he was auditioning for my chair. First instin...
The Performance of Work Is Not Work
Performative work — looking busy instead of being useful — is a trap. Here's how to tell the difference between real effort and theater.
Every Musician Has a Price. Mine Was $200.
A saxophonist's $200 Despacito moment becomes a sharp argument about artistic integrity, musician ego, and the pragmatism of getting paid.
The Performance of Work Is Killing Real Work
Performative work — looking busy instead of being productive — is eroding real output. An editorial on why visibility culture kills genuine work.