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Waiting For Life

by Jeff Waful - waful@unclesammy.com

Everything about the night was perfect. Amidst a sea of tangled cables and burning incense, Uncle Sammy led us on a 4-set, 7-hour musical excursion. Every moment was pure bliss. The band played as if one brain or some kind of higher power was connecting their thoughts. The jams sounded like well-crafted compositions, yet every note was improvised. Of course, one of the exciting things about improvisational music is that anything can happen. There are "on" nights and "off" nights. On this night (and 5 ½ hours into the next morning), the band was "on".

Back in college, I took several courses that dealt with the ethics of journalism. I realize this article would be a classic example of a conflict of interest. Hell, I'm the manager of Uncle Sammy. I've struggled with the issue of writing about the band for months now. After last weekend however, I was compelled to share my experiences with you. I didn't play the role of manager on this particular night. I was a fan. I was a diehard. I danced. I laughed. I had my mind blown. I shut my eyes for extended periods of time. I was lost in the music. It felt good. I had a epiphany

The location was ideal: a secluded house nestled in woods of Vermont surrounded in every direction by woods and mountains. There were no neighbors. In the backyard, there were large patches of moss that lead to a small stream. Some of our friends had dug a hole in the lawn where a blazing bon fire burned for nearly the entire weekend. The weather was unseasonable warm with daytime temperatures hovering around 70. The air was so pure that I found myself breathing at times just for the taste of it and not out of necessity. At night, a full moon peaked over the mountains and rose to illuminate our playground.

We started setting up the "stage" in the garage around 4 o'clock on Saturday. One of the things that I enjoy most about playing private parties is the fact that there are no time constraints. Part of my responsibility as the band's manager is to make sure that everything happens on time: from load in, to sound check, to the band taking the stage. On the occasion that we play a party, this all goes out the window. There is no stress involved. Dealing with "the venue" consisted of me asking my friend Stacey if it was all right if I duct-taped a black light to the ceiling of the garage.

As more and more people started to arrive, it dawned on me just how unique the party really was. The majority of the people there had met through the Internet. Everyone had the same passion for live music. It's a pretty amazing concept. The Internet made it possible for such a small segment of the population to find others with a shared interest. Literally every one at the party was a fanatical live music junkie. This is a phenomenon that is could not have happened 10 years ago. A lot of us had never met, yet hugs were being exchanged as if we were life-long friends. As the sun set, the cars kept rolling in. It was not a huge, out of control party. It was more of a gathering of about 50 people.

While the band sound-checked, an impromptu "opening act" entertained everyone around the fire. About twenty people sang along, banged on bongos, and strummed guitars. The sing-a-longs were very entertaining. Most of these people had never had a conversation with each other, yet they were harmonizing Doobie Brothers tunes like they had known each other for years. As the sky grew dark, the light from the fire began to cast shadows around the yard. Every thing had a magical look to it.

At around 10:30, Uncle Sammy was ready to start playing. They had not planned on going on at any particular time. They just felt that the moment was right. "You ready? Let's do it", was all that needed to be said. When the first notes started reverberating into the open Vermont air, I knew the night was going to be epic. The sound was so crisp and the band was just ripping. People filed in and started dancing up a storm. The band was obviously very loose and playful; especially our bass player Brian. He's the comedian in the band. He's the ham. He was killing me during the first set. Every time he played a lick, he'd look up and make a weird face at someone in the room. This left me in hysterics while trying to dance at the same time. The thing that blew my mind from the first set was the fact that the band was taking so many chances. They were taking the songs to places they never have before. After about 45 minutes they somehow found themselves segueing out of the first song into a spontaneous version of Marley's "Lively Up Yourself". The place erupted. Brian then decided to walk the bass line and our drummer, Tom was right there with him, swinging his ass off. All the sudden, the band was playing a jazz version of "Lively". It could not have sounded better if they'd rehearsed it for weeks. Max then slowly built up and guitar solo and the band swelled behind him. Minutes later the entire party was moving and grooving to a ferocious, double-time, swunk jam. (when funk meets swing).

I learned a lot that night. As I was dancing, eyes shut, with a grin from ear to ear, I detached myself from the beautiful surroundings and did a lot of thinking. That's happens to me a lot. When the music is just right it just becomes the soundtrack for my thoughts. I've had many epiphanies during some of the best shows of my life. On this night, it dawned on me that no matter how much the band rehearses, they play their best when the vibe is right. It's more psychological than anything else. The time leading up to the show really determines how well they are going to play. As their manager, I'm usually running around worrying about logistics and stressing about this or that. It occurred to me that playing shows at bigger venues is very tricky, to say the least. Obviously, the high profile gigs are great, as far as name recognition and exposure. However, it's more of a challenge for the band to be in the right mind set. When we play an hour set opening for two other bands, chances are that we're not going to get much of a sound check. Everyone's going to be worried about their monitor mix or the fact that they haven't had time to do their vocal warm-ups. It's very hard to play improvisational music when you're head's not in it. You can't just go through the motions. When there's stress before a gig, it's much harder for the band to get into "the zone". I realized that if we could somehow capture the beautiful vibe of this Vermont party and bring it with us to every gig, the jams would reach new heights. I made a promise to myself that from now on, I will do everything in my control to keep the band stress-free before a gig. (I'm usually the source of the stress anyway). It's easier said than done, but it's more important than I ever thought. The guys play like a different band when the mood is right and everyone's smiling.

After many deep thoughts, I opened my eyes and noticed that about twice as many people had crowded into the garage and a sea of dancers now stretched out into the back yard. Set one ended to cheers and laughs. The band said they would return "in a bit". No one really cared when the second set started. There was no rush. There was no curfew. Set break consisted of everyone walking out back to the campfire and meeting new people. There were several different kegs of quality beer flowing. (For environmental reasons, Amy and Stacey requested that no one bring bottles or cans, so people simply brought kegs). I met people from all over the country that had traveled to Vermont for the party. Meeting people from the Internet is very interesting. Since most people's screen names are usually different than their real names, it can take a while to realize who you're talking to. As people exchanged more hugs and party favors, the band decided to start playing again. No one had any idea what time it was, even me. Imagine that, a manager with no concept of time.

Set two was more outrageous than the first. Everyone in the room seemed to be on the same wavelength. Thoughts were exchanged collectively through the music. The guys in the band all had smirks on their faces as if they knew that they were playing some of the best music of their lives. I felt like a little kid again. I was so lost in the music and full of joy, I felt like I was five years old running through a field of flowers. I shut my eyes and did more soul searching. Everything in the world seemed right. It became obvious to me that this is what makes me the most happy. Listening to live music is what makes me feel most like myself. When my best friends happen to be generating that live music, it's even more rewarding. Managing the band has become a full time effort. When all of the week's work is done, it is such a treat to be entertained by your co-workers. It was about half way through the set when I made the most important decision of my young life. It just hit me. I decided that I was quitting my day job. I am ready to pursue my dream. I knew right then and there that the time had come. If managing Uncle Sammy now requires more hours, than I must free up some of my time for the band. Then I opened my eyes to see a birthday cake floating through the crowd towards "Bones" as everyone serenaded him. Set two ended to more mind-expanding improvisation. I felt so liberated. It was as if I had just given birth. Two more sets followed and I was on cloud nine. When the sun began to rise, most people had retired to bed. A few of us however could stop dancing. When the final notes were played around 5:40 AM, Tom wanted to keep playing. The band had just played the longest show of their life and Tom wanted to keep going. I felt like a new man. I felt like I had just gone through months of psychotherapy. I saw the world differently after the show. Why shouldn't I do exactly what I want for the rest of my life? Life's short and then you die. If you're not doing what you love, then you're wasting time. The following week, I gave notice at the office. I'm ready.

For another perspective on this night check out http://www.phans.com/column/phmay99.htm

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Jeff Waful is Jambands.com columnist and manages the band Uncle Sammy.