Simplicity and setting expectations
I'm encountering a funny thing I didn't anticipate when I set out to be a minimalistic guitarist. I'm finding that certain bandleaders and artists I go to work for are a little shocked at my setup.
Before I decided to simplify my rig and try to do more with less, I would ask the bandleaders who hire me up front what sounds they were looking for. In terms of delay and reverb, I could accommodate nearly anything—I had a Timeline, a Memory Man, and two Eventide H9s on my board. But then I became so disenchanted with it all and in a blog post I titled, 'More is more to lose' I detailed how I decided to let go of my love of things and try to live a more meaningful life with less. I became a minimalist.
Joshua Becker defines minimalism in the best way, he says, "Minimalism is the intentional promotion of the things we most value and the removal of everything that distracts us from it."
In that spirit, my guitar rig is pretty simple now. One guitar, one amp. Pedaltrain Jr with a Tuner, Tubescreamer, a Bluesbreaker style drive called the Del Mar, DD-5, and RV-5. I'm honestly wondering after a couple weeks of play whether I need the second overdrive. I kept a DM-2 to throw on if I ever need a warmer delay and to just have in the gigbag for playing blues/country/rock when so many pedals aren't needed.
With this simplified rig, my biggest weakness is not having much of an "ambient" guitar sound. The trails on the DD-5 and RV-5 can only be so long and aren't particularly deep-sounding or immersive. That said, I've always maintained that I'm a guitarist, not a keyboard player, and that most of the ambient sounds you'll hear on an album are coming from the keys, not the guitar. I'll point out that one instrument has a built-in sustain pedal and the other doesn't.
So a couple of days ago, I arrived at the gig, unpacked, stationed my little Pedaltrain Jr in my spot, plugged everything in, and waited for the go-ahead to start checking my guitar. And the worship pastor who hired me kind of gave me a funny look like, "Is that all you brought?"
All fears subsided (at least I think they did) when I began to play. My tone was on-point and I knew the songs, and like always, I listened to my bandmates and watched my leader for unexpected changes in dynamic. I played to serve the song. We rehearsed, played the church service, I got paid, we went and had dinner. All was well. I even got some compliments. But I think—in light of that initial gasp that I didn't come with a Strymon-loaded-spaceship of a pedalboard—it might be a good idea to set expectations up front about what I can and can't do as a minimal guitarist.
This advice isn't just for the minimalist, though. I think with any new gig, it's important to set expectations up front about what you will bring to the band, not just in gear and tones but in feel and presence. Here are some super easy, non-awkward, ways that you can make bandleaders aware of the style and the sounds they're getting when they hire you.
“I’ve gotten away from being as much of a chameleon as a lot session guys are—they show up with 12 or 15 guitars...I’m becoming more of an artist. I’m known for my style.”
Meet your new bandleader for coffee before agreeing to take on the gig. This is the simplest way to gauge a person's expectations ahead of the rehearsal or gig. Meet with the bandleader and get to know his or her communication style. Someone said communicators fit into only four styles: Directors, Thinkers, Entertainers, and Feelers. I've worked with worship pastors and bandleaders of all types.
There are those who get right to the point and tell you just exactly what they want from you. I've come to value this. In response, I tell them exactly what I'll be bringing to the gig and what tones I'm able to cop from the album. I make sure to let them know that I've listened to the song several times and have no trouble playing it, and that I also read sheet music.
There are those who carefully plot out each and every sentence they're communicating, they speak slowly to convey the thought perfectly, and in return they expect you to show your thought in your responses, like showing your work on a math problem. When I'm setting expectations about my guitar work with a thinker, I make sure to acknowledge their thought-process and share my own in my responses.
Entertainers are all about the stories and anecdotes. Your first meeting with them could last 3 hours as they tell you about all of the guitarists they've loved in the past, those they've hated to work with, all the funny stories from that one conference they played in Corbin, Kentucky where the drummer fell off his throne down the back of the stage and into a cam op, and how special it was to be able to hold their grandmother's hand as she read the Christmas story to the family last year, why they chose jamocha as their favorite milkshake flavor... With entertainers, in setting expectations, I try to tell stories about previous gigs I've had and previous bandleaders. Have fun with them.
Lastly, some people strongly communicate in emotions, they're feelers, and they expect their emotions to be acknowledged in your responses. I set expectations about my guitar work by wrapping my guitar style and gear in a feelings sandwich: "I want the strength of the chorus here to come through in the guitar, so I'll be playing dry there, just driving the chorus with an overdrive pedal—no atmospheric clutter. I feel like this song requires an strong, declarative statement that could be muddied with reverb sounds."
State your beliefs in bold on your website or card. I'm a guitarist, not an effects-pedalist. Here on my site and in conversation with bandleaders I mention several times that I'll always work to deliver the song. Meaning that the gear I value most is gear that serves the song and doesn't get in the way. I'm not going to throw on the Old Blood Noise Procession just because I got it last week and wanna try it out, and I'm not going to slap in some Big Sky Cloud setting just because 'every song needs a little reverb.' I always serve the song.
Nearly any song you hear on any worship album made in the last 25 years can be delivered using a Tubescreamer, digital delay with tap tempo, and light modulated reverb, especially if you're working with a keyboard player who tackles the pads, loops, and ambience. Bethel's guitar work has more of a tape delay and hall reverb sound, and is all-stereo-all-the-time, but I've still been able to find a way to incorporate my style into their hooks and parts.
Quick note on Bethel's guitar sound. It is more ambient, and generally longer, than, say, the Daniel Carson-Passion-Elevation-influenced guitar sound. James Duke recorded mono on a live album they produced with only his DD-20, Memory Man, and RV-5, and still managed to honor the Bethel sound. Even using the Timeline and Big Sky, the guys at Bethel still dry up and drive the song much more often than I think people realize. And in Bethel's WorshipU videos for front of house engineering, production manager Clint Aull said that the engineers prefer their guitarists to play without reverb as much as possible. Michael Pope says he listens to his engineers and adjusts delay and reverb trails when they're muddying the mix. It's this kind of collaboration and service to the overall mix that I value most as a musician—it's not about me, it's about delivering the song and sitting friendly in the mix.
Make audio and video available in a press kit. No better way to let people know your style than to provide them demos and audio. This is a goal I'm working on—there are so few clean recordings of my live work that really show me off, and I'm too much of a perfectionist to link to iPhone recordings.
Ask about the band's setup and members. Get to know your coworkers. I always make sure there's a keyboard player ahead of time, or that the band uses click and loop and has someone triggering pad sounds. That kind of lets me know how much space I'll be required to fill in our songs and transitions.
Listen to audio from the band, try to pick out what previous guitarists were doing. If you hear something that you clearly can't cop using a simplified guitar setup, or if the previous guitarist used some wild fuzz pedal or something, I'll make sure they know, up front, that I won't be bringing a buzz-saw sounding Tonebender to the gig. I often listen to the band's last guitarist to try to find alternatives to some of the things he or she did and to improve upon it. That sounds a little mean, but you know you'll keep the gig and make the band very happy if you quietly improve on issues with the last guy's timing or feel.
Adjust expectations with grace, and do so ahead of time, NOT during rehearsal. So you can't do what they're asking? Mention it up front if possible, and if what they're asking is wildly unreasonable, offer an alternative solution with grace. If, during rehearsal, you and your bandleader just can't gain agreement about a particular sound or feel, don't be afraid to offer to step back during that part, "Why don't I just dip out there, or we cut the instrumental short?" That won't happen often if you've met with the bandleader and discussed your limitations. People appreciate honesty. If you honestly can't do something it doesn't mean you're a crappy guitarist—it means you've got limitations—and that's human. I think I get more work by being honest about what they're getting than by talking myself up.
If your style doesn't match their vision, pass on the gig. As a bandleader, there's nothing worse than getting someone who said he or she could do all these great things, but then doesn't live up to expectations. Don't be that guy or that girl. If the songs are calling for something you're not able to do, and you've explored alternatives, and you've talked it over and can't come to an agreeable solution with your bandleader, if you bow out, you're helping more than hurting. Don't be afraid to say 'no.' I turn down 100% of all requests I get to come and play hair-metal.
Focus on developing your sound. You can't be all things to all people and you can't be expected to have every pedal every guitarist used on every album. But what you can be is you. Strive to develop your own voice. Work toward artistry over vocabulary. Be like the Guthrie Trapp quote above, much less a chameleon and much more a unique voice that people seek out to add to their record.
Be the best.