The Clubdate Singer Speaks! Chapter 5: Bones & Tambo or. Sambo 2002

“Bones & Tambo or. Sambo 2002” I try to keep a safe distance, at least mentally, during the gigs. For one, it allows me to keep in mind that this is just a job, and a step on the ladder. I have to think that way, you see, because I have higher goals, loftier aspirations. Another singer once said to me, “Nobody’s EVER been discovered on a Clubdate” Truer words have not been spoken. I have to keep this in mind because I’ve played with some guys who for them, this is the pinnacle. This IS “show business”. This is as far as they’ll ever get, and they have resigned themselves to this fact. That is NOT my confession. This is a means to an end; I just have to be vigilant, watch the skies, and know when the season is at its end. I apologize, this is not the direction that I planned to go… The second reason that I keep my distance is that there is a level of minstrelsy to this job, which is inherent. It is very difficult for me. When I began in the band, one of the things that were mandatory was ‘audience interaction’. This took the form of either the ‘Soul Circle’, or the ‘Soul Train line’ in either instance, it was my job to go out into the crowd, and ‘interact’. Needless to say, I found this uncomfortable and degrading. ‘Why?’, you may ask. It seems innocent enough; Get the partygoers in a big circle on the dance floor, and put together couples with obvious differences, and get them to dance with each other. (In truth, this had an incredible effect at a Korean/Caucasian wedding a couple of years back. It was the perfect ice-breaker, and the party was great after that. That is of course, except for the bride’s self-loathing brother who denigrated his culture in order to ‘fit in’ with the white guests. Sorry, that’s another chapter… ) Or the Soul Train line. Everybody in the place trying to do what they saw on TV (yeah, they watch Soul Train too), what they dreamed about back in the day. Coming down the line, all eyes on you, as the music pumps, and the place rocks… Go White Girl! Go white Girl! (Come on, you know you saw Charlie’s Angels) This of course I find less objectionable than the Circle, because I am less the participant, more the ring master…. But back to the whole degrading thing. I am a singer. I am a black man. I am a professional musician, I am an entertainer, but I AM NOT A MINSTREL. I am in fact, a damn good singer, and it irks me that this is not enough, at least that was the impression that I was given. I did it for the first 2 years, growing increasingly more uncomfortable each time. It got to the point where I dreaded ‘Soul man’ because this is where the drama would usually unfold… Rev. calls this buffooning. This, he says, is for those who cannot move the crowd any other way, or feel that they must put on a show for the patrons... Darkies performin’ fo’ Massa’s guesseses, as dey watch from de po’ch. “I’se a Soul man! Yessa boss I iz” “ Aahh Gess yooo sey, what kin make mee feel dis whey? Massa, Massa, Massa! Talkin bout Massa, MASSA! OOOOhhh! We no longer do either the circle or the soul train line, though an occasional electric slide is not beyond Summer… But she’s fierce like that, and ‘It’s electric’