T. Perry Bowers
I’ve been in the rehearsal space business for over twenty-five years. I’ve walked musicians to their first rehearsal space and given them the keys to a sacred place where they can get loud thousands of times. It’s been a true honor and a gift.
The hope they have, on that first day, is like the hope of a mother and father on the day of their child’s birth. The band members are excited. I can feel it pulsing through their hearts. What kinds of sounds will they make? On what stages will they perform? Will they gain the attention of others? Will people swoon? Will they make some money? Will they get the girl? I can hear their minds racing in anticipation.
I’m not going to lie and tell you that most bands take it to the next level. Most first incarnations of bands flounder for months and eventually fizzle out. Facing the discipline that it takes to practice your instrument, show up to weekly practices, and deal with differing personalities is a self-contained mystery school.
But when the chemistry is there and the people in the band are ready, it’s a beautiful thing to behold. There is nothing like walking down the hallways of my studio and hearing some powerful riff and vocal coming from a band that I handed over the keys to just months before. When I hear the cohesiveness of the band, the creativity, and the raw emotion of a fresh, original band, I know I’m in my zone. I feel like I’m serving a purpose. I feel worthy. I feel I’ve done something good in the world.
I’m not trying to take credit for the will that the new band has and is growing, I’m just saying that the little I can contribute to that kind of magic makes my little existence on this earth make a little more sense.
I would say that one out of every ten bands that come through my doors will end up on a stage, even less will make an audio recording, even less will make a recording that ends up on Spotify, and even less than that will ever make a music video or have a website. Most will have a couple of social media accounts for a while, but eventually, they will be deleted. It doesn’t take too long for me to see the writing on the wall for a band that is not going to make it.
Mostly, I just stop hearing them play. I stop seeing them walking down the halls with their gear. They just stop. It always saddens me just a little. I start anticipating the inevitable thirty-day notice on the practice space.
However, I’ll take an educated guess and say that for every band that walks through my doors, there are a hundred bands that don’t even get started. Late-night drinking sessions where two guys promise each other that they’re going to start playing together the next day. Acoustic practice sessions that never make it to a second one. Guitars bought that just end up in cases under beds.
If they actually sign a contract on a space and put some money down on a rehearsal space, they now have skin in the game. And, it’s not cheap to come up with first and last month’s rent. This gives the bands a little kick in the pants. I just love it when that little jump start leads to some serious musical and emotional growth.
Let’s talk about emotional growth for a second because I think it’s really one of the most important parts of being in a band. I have bands in my building that mostly just practice. In fact, I’m in one of them right now. My band is taking a little hiatus from playing live because of some personal things, but we still jam and get a lot out of it. For some people, just playing with four or five of your friends is a big deal. Gaining the courage to sing for the first time in front of anyone can be a huge personal breakthrough for some people. Performing music is no small thing, even if you’re practicing by yourself in your basement.
Developing and continuing a rehearsal discipline can save people’s lives. Breaking through and being able to play difficult chords on a guitar can be a huge self-esteem boost. I know it has been for me. The other day I realized that I can easily grab a couple of different chord shapes that used to be almost impossible to me when I first learned them. It made me feel nice for a minute, but it also gave me the confidence to play in front of people that normally would intimidate the hell out of me.
There is a woman in my practice space that suffers from social anxiety. She started to sing in a band that just wanted to practice. She agreed to join if the band agreed to never step out on stage. It was just a once-a-week jam session just for fun. They’ve gotten so good that she has agreed to actively pursue some gigs. She is ready to expand. That is growth you can’t get in a therapist’s office. That is growth you can only get from music.
I’ve been doing this for so long I don’t even know what it’s like not to push myself to be better every time I strap on my guitar. I have achieved so many things that I have set out to do musically just by showing up one day at a time in the rehearsal space. For me, it’s not about making money or having fame, it’s about setting goals and reaching them. It builds tremendous confidence over time.
I’ve told a few friends during my years of being a musician that just the act of walking over to your guitar every day and picking it up will eventually lead you to being able to play that guitar. It’s the day you don’t pick it up that leads to atrophy. Even if you only play it for two minutes, if you keep picking it up, it will hook you into your musical soul.
I think the same way about my rehearsal space. As long as I keep going to the door and walking through, good things will happen. Growth is inevitable. Healing will occur. And that’s what life is all about.
