The Clubdate Singer Speaks: Chapter 8
Disclaimer: The following story is an
actual event, as all of the vignettes in the 'Clubdate Singer Speaks'
series are. For 8 years, I was a member of one of the top Orchestras in
the nation. Though it was an enjoyable time, it was also at times, quite
painful. I took to writing initially to assuage my distress, and this
is one of those times when the pen (or keyboard) proved to be a healing
tool. I have considered publishing this series, and would appreciate
your thoughts...
"The Conflict” - Early 2004
(Please note the date of this writing. Much has changed since, but it reflects the state of mind I was in at that time)
Though this series of essays is autobiographical, I and my situation are by no means unique...
Saturday night:
I stand behind the microphone, in the crowded, dimly lit club, singing songs that make your body move.
I am the lead singer.
Sunday Morning:
I stand behind the microphone in the crowded, brightly lit church, singing songs that make your spirit soar.
I am the Worship leader.
Saturday night,
It's the booze, the beat and the lyrics that take you to another level.
Sunday morning:
It's the Holy Ghost, the lyrics and the beat, that take you to a Higher place.
Saturday night:
I am exhorting the party-goers, appealing to their basest desires and proclivities. "If you're sexy, throw your hands up, come on! Let me see ya shake what your Mama gave ya! Girl you better WORK that!"
Sunday morning:
I am exhorting the congregation, appealing to their most sacred sensibilities. The cadence is similar, but the words are a world away...
"Lift those hands if you Love Him! Come On family! Give God some Praise in His House! He's WORTHY!"
Saturday night:
Women in various stages of sobriety and undress, moved by my voice, make passes at me. Sometimes they hug and kiss me. I politely decline.
Sunday morning:
women in their Sunday best, moved by my voice, make veiled (sometimes not so veiled) passes at me. Sometimes they hug and kiss me.
I politely introduce them to my wife.
Saturday night:
The oldies range from Cole Porter to Sinatra to Sam Cook to Aretha Franklin to the Temptations. We sing them all.
Sunday morning:
The oldies range from Charles Wesley to James Cleveland to Sam Cook to Aretha Franklin to Andrae Crouch. We sing them all.
Saturday night:
I have to have my finger on the pulse of the party, to make sure that the song selection keeps the party's flow going.
Sunday morning:
I have to be receptive to the move of the Spirit, to make sure that the song selection keeps the Service's flow going.
By now you're probably calling me a hypocrite. I can almost hear the accusatory tone in your voice, as you say: "You can't serve two masters. You can't play for the devil Saturday night, and play for the Lord on Sunday morning". On the surface, yes that could be argued. But look at it this way:
Saturday night is my job.
Sunday morning is my calling, and for me, and many like me, the calling doesn't pay.
At least not monetarily.
What then do we do? Are we being duplicitous, hypocritical? Are we frauds, fakes?
Or could it be that we the unfortunate products of a grim reality:
Most of us cannot ever expect to support our families or pay our bills working in the church. This is but one half of the actual problem. The other half has to do with tastes in music, and musical expression. That is an essay for another time.
Most of the musicians I know that are in this situation would gladly stop doing this kind of work, if they church would pay them what they're worth. The fact is, though, that this doesn't happen very often. Most of us end up working in bands to make ends meet.
Here are but a few examples:
In my band, there are:
An associate Pastor of a large NYC Baptist church
A former choir director and lead singer in one of the top gospel choirs in New York
A multi-instrumentalist who juggles the band with church music commitments
and me.
In my best friend's band there is:
An ordained minister
A 3rd year seminary student
2 others who are musicians in their churches.
Why does this happen, you might ask. The problem stems from the age old black church philosophy. It is an HONOR to serve the Lord. That should be enough for you. Your reward will come later. Back in the day, when everyone lived on the plantation, it was cool because you had no bills. Actually it wasn't 'cool' per se, but you know what I mean.
As society changed, and churches sprang up in urban industrialized cities, this 'convenient doctrine' took root and spread, bolstered by numerous scripture, attesting to God's supernatural ability to provide for those that are doing His work, and the fact that folks were still poor, just trying to make it. There was no money to pay the musicians, and if there was, usually it was the organist.
In those days, it was still almost acceptable. I will go as far as to say that I still can understand this in smaller churches. However, in the age of the 'Mega-Church', this is not acceptable at all. I have seen musicians that asked for compensation, shunned thereafter, or in my case, character assassinated.
It's funny to me because everyone seems to miss this little verse:
As the scripture says, “You shall not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain," and, "The laborer deserves to be paid." - 1st Timothy Chapter 5 verse 18
The local church attitude also has repercussions within the recording industry, and the concert halls. Gospel music doesn't sell as well as secular music, and this is not for want of listeners. Gospel music listeners just don't buy CD's, and they continually attempt to undercut performers when it comes to their fees. I have seen it, and I have experienced it. Is it any wonder then that the artists end up doing what they do?
I wonder how the preachers would feel if the same logic is applied to their salaries and offerings, and people stop putting anything in the plates as they go by. I am convinced though, that this will probably never happen.
But I am a 'never say never' kind of guy, so I will hold out hope that someday things will be different, and guys like me won't have to straddle both sides of the fence, as it were.
Until then, it is what it is, and I can fully understand the choices that people like:
Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin, Lou Rawls, Whitney Houston, Otis Redding, The Isley Brothers, Bobby Womack, Patti Labelle
and too many others to name had to make.
So I will keep on singing my songs, and supporting my family.
Call it what you will, but I believe that it's ok with God...
"The Conflict” - Early 2004
(Please note the date of this writing. Much has changed since, but it reflects the state of mind I was in at that time)
Though this series of essays is autobiographical, I and my situation are by no means unique...
Saturday night:
I stand behind the microphone, in the crowded, dimly lit club, singing songs that make your body move.
I am the lead singer.
Sunday Morning:
I stand behind the microphone in the crowded, brightly lit church, singing songs that make your spirit soar.
I am the Worship leader.
Saturday night,
It's the booze, the beat and the lyrics that take you to another level.
Sunday morning:
It's the Holy Ghost, the lyrics and the beat, that take you to a Higher place.
Saturday night:
I am exhorting the party-goers, appealing to their basest desires and proclivities. "If you're sexy, throw your hands up, come on! Let me see ya shake what your Mama gave ya! Girl you better WORK that!"
Sunday morning:
I am exhorting the congregation, appealing to their most sacred sensibilities. The cadence is similar, but the words are a world away...
"Lift those hands if you Love Him! Come On family! Give God some Praise in His House! He's WORTHY!"
Saturday night:
Women in various stages of sobriety and undress, moved by my voice, make passes at me. Sometimes they hug and kiss me. I politely decline.
Sunday morning:
women in their Sunday best, moved by my voice, make veiled (sometimes not so veiled) passes at me. Sometimes they hug and kiss me.
I politely introduce them to my wife.
Saturday night:
The oldies range from Cole Porter to Sinatra to Sam Cook to Aretha Franklin to the Temptations. We sing them all.
Sunday morning:
The oldies range from Charles Wesley to James Cleveland to Sam Cook to Aretha Franklin to Andrae Crouch. We sing them all.
Saturday night:
I have to have my finger on the pulse of the party, to make sure that the song selection keeps the party's flow going.
Sunday morning:
I have to be receptive to the move of the Spirit, to make sure that the song selection keeps the Service's flow going.
By now you're probably calling me a hypocrite. I can almost hear the accusatory tone in your voice, as you say: "You can't serve two masters. You can't play for the devil Saturday night, and play for the Lord on Sunday morning". On the surface, yes that could be argued. But look at it this way:
Saturday night is my job.
Sunday morning is my calling, and for me, and many like me, the calling doesn't pay.
At least not monetarily.
What then do we do? Are we being duplicitous, hypocritical? Are we frauds, fakes?
Or could it be that we the unfortunate products of a grim reality:
Most of us cannot ever expect to support our families or pay our bills working in the church. This is but one half of the actual problem. The other half has to do with tastes in music, and musical expression. That is an essay for another time.
Most of the musicians I know that are in this situation would gladly stop doing this kind of work, if they church would pay them what they're worth. The fact is, though, that this doesn't happen very often. Most of us end up working in bands to make ends meet.
Here are but a few examples:
In my band, there are:
An associate Pastor of a large NYC Baptist church
A former choir director and lead singer in one of the top gospel choirs in New York
A multi-instrumentalist who juggles the band with church music commitments
and me.
In my best friend's band there is:
An ordained minister
A 3rd year seminary student
2 others who are musicians in their churches.
Why does this happen, you might ask. The problem stems from the age old black church philosophy. It is an HONOR to serve the Lord. That should be enough for you. Your reward will come later. Back in the day, when everyone lived on the plantation, it was cool because you had no bills. Actually it wasn't 'cool' per se, but you know what I mean.
As society changed, and churches sprang up in urban industrialized cities, this 'convenient doctrine' took root and spread, bolstered by numerous scripture, attesting to God's supernatural ability to provide for those that are doing His work, and the fact that folks were still poor, just trying to make it. There was no money to pay the musicians, and if there was, usually it was the organist.
In those days, it was still almost acceptable. I will go as far as to say that I still can understand this in smaller churches. However, in the age of the 'Mega-Church', this is not acceptable at all. I have seen musicians that asked for compensation, shunned thereafter, or in my case, character assassinated.
It's funny to me because everyone seems to miss this little verse:
As the scripture says, “You shall not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain," and, "The laborer deserves to be paid." - 1st Timothy Chapter 5 verse 18
The local church attitude also has repercussions within the recording industry, and the concert halls. Gospel music doesn't sell as well as secular music, and this is not for want of listeners. Gospel music listeners just don't buy CD's, and they continually attempt to undercut performers when it comes to their fees. I have seen it, and I have experienced it. Is it any wonder then that the artists end up doing what they do?
I wonder how the preachers would feel if the same logic is applied to their salaries and offerings, and people stop putting anything in the plates as they go by. I am convinced though, that this will probably never happen.
But I am a 'never say never' kind of guy, so I will hold out hope that someday things will be different, and guys like me won't have to straddle both sides of the fence, as it were.
Until then, it is what it is, and I can fully understand the choices that people like:
Sam Cooke, Aretha Franklin, Lou Rawls, Whitney Houston, Otis Redding, The Isley Brothers, Bobby Womack, Patti Labelle
and too many others to name had to make.
So I will keep on singing my songs, and supporting my family.
Call it what you will, but I believe that it's ok with God...
Comments