The band pulled in to Utah tired and ready to go home.  We had been on the road for awhile and Park City, Utah was our last stop.  Park City has become a very trendy ski town since the Sundance Film Festival began there.  The Club had a good stage and dance floor and we looked forward to ending our tour with a bang.  9:30 p.m. rolled around and we jumped on stage ready to get the place moving.  We pulled out the big guns with all of our upbeat, fun, danceable songs.  The crowd stared at us for maybe 4 minutes and then went back to their drinks or food.  We played three songs in a row before I took a moment to talk to the audience.  After the third song it was dead quiet.  Not a clap or cough could be heard; just the dead eyed stare of an un-amused audience and the occasional dragging of a fork on a plate.  “We are Five A.M. out of the Bay Area…its good to be here tonight.”  Chirp…chirp.  “Uh…we just came from Wyoming where the men are men and…uh …so are the women.”  Chirp….chirp.  “Sooooooooooooo….here is song called Painted Words off of our new album.  There is plenty of room on the dance floor…..so….uhhh…don’t be shy.” drip…drip.
     I look out to find someone paying attention, maybe one friendly face.  Ahhhh….I find her sitting at a table to the left of the stage.  She looks really excited.  She looks really into the band and the music.  I decide to focus on her to keep my energy from dropping but then I look at her again and notice something isn’t right.  She still looks blown away by our first three songs.  Then it hits me she’s not blown away by us; she has recently had a face lift. She looks at me in a constant state of surprise, like a really happy clown getting an enema.  I realize she is not into us at all as she rolls her eyes, grabs her husband and moves to the bar.  We break into another solid set of fun happy songs to try and get the crowd on our side but nothing happens…they are slowly killing us. 
       After an hour of the knife being twisted in our gut we take our first break.  I walk down the steps of the stage and then I see them standing at the end of the steps waiting for me.  It is what every original rock band has to face during most shows, somebody waiting to say they wanted to hear cover songs.  I couldn’t escaped them so I slowly walked to the two snow bunnies dressed up in the latest fashion with one in a pink half shirt with “porn star” in glitter across the front.  “Hey you guys are really great but could you play songs that we know?  You know, like Livin’ La Vida Loca or YMCA?  That would be great.”  Defeated we walk to a table and sit down.  Some background music comes on the house speakers, its Will Smith’s “Gettin Jiggy wit it.”  The band lets out a collective groan, but then it gets worse.  Everyone jumps up with big sheep smiles, “YA!  Alright!!!  I love this song!!! Weeeee.  Baaaaa!!!”  The crowd proceeds to pack the floor and immediately begins to party like it was 1999.  The band is white faced as we stare at this obscenity.
      “Play Mustang Sally,” is their cry.  They want the familiar – the comfortable.  They want something they already know so they can feel safe on the dance floor.  They don’t want to miss a beat, break or stop and look stupid in front of a bunch of people they don’t know…right?    For the bands out there trying to sing our own songs there is nothing worse than playing a great set filled with vibe and soul but as you take a break you see them standing there waiting to say, “Can you play something we can dance to?  Uh…you know like Brick House or Brown Eyed Girl?”  It matters not that you just played 5 totally danceable songs in a row.  They crave beige, vanilla, and easily digestible food.  These are the same people that Jesus upset with his teachings.  He flipped over tables, told the righteous they were wrong, the rich to give away their money, and the last that they would be first.  The religious leaders of the day often waited for him after he spoke to say, “uh Jesus, couldn’t you preach some Skynard or maybe “Play that Funky Music White Boy?”  Ok, maybe that is a loose interpretation of the bible but you get the point. 
       Our lives should be focused on playing the music never heard before.  It should be about taking the path un-traveled and giving up the familiar for the chaos and beauty of living in the spirit.  Spirituality should be spontaneous, a cacophony of rock, jazz, jam, reggae, ska, punk, classical and folk. It should rise up from the heart not dictated by books and lectures.  It should be alive and just as things that are living; constantly growing, changing, challenging, failing, and succeeding.  When I see the big MEGA churches in America and I can’t help but think they are no different from the popular dance and cover band clubs.  These people don’t want to be challenged they want something they can depend on, something they already know the ending too.  They want a comfortable controlled spiritual life.  They want to know exactly where the stops are, exactly when the chorus hits, and exactly where it ends.  This leads to a very safe and structured belief system but it does not lead to a spiritual life. 
       Spirituality today has been watered down to a list of moral rules to live by: don’t drink, don’t have premarital sex, go to church on Sunday, don’t use bad language…etc.  It is not that I am saying these things do not matter I am saying we have got it backward.  If we get people to listen to the spirit that is already in them, they will live a moral life because they can live no other way not out of fear of damnation, hellfire or being banned from the afterlife.  They will understand that God is in their breath and the words they chose to speak to one another, god is in their hands when they reach out to touch one another, and God is in their eyes as they chose how to see the world they live in. 
        When I listen to some of the great artist you can sense their influences.  As a song writer I found as I exposed myself to folk, jazz, blues, country, and poetry I was inspired to write and think in different ways.  We seem to crave the comfortable these days, things that are easily explained and easily understood.  The focus has become faith in a belief system and structure.  Political battles and social position all evaluated and decided by what set of beliefs we have decided to call our own.  This is when the group-think takes over and once it does we become another person beholden to an institution that dictates our actions.   We get up to dance but only for the pre-approved music. 
      The band was playing in a town called Mountain View.  The town was very wealthy and the owner told us he expected us to play a few cover songs because that is what his audience expected.  We played three sets and by the third set we had a crowd of about one hundred in the palm of our hands.  The room was shaking and the band was firmly planted in the grove.  We had all ready played the pre-requisite cover songs so we had been tearing up the third set with only our own tunes.  With every song we were building more and more energy.  Over to my right I see the owner looking upset.  I thought he was getting worried about the crowd getting out of hand as a few people had begun jumping up on stage during some of the songs and dancing.  I was wrong.  He was yelling at Hammer (our guitar player) that we were not playing enough cover songs.  We ended a song and I spoke with him.  I told him to look around at the audience having a great time but he still insisted that we play more cover songs. 
      We played four more songs, all our own, the band refused to give into this blatant stupidity.  The crowd was now larger than before; we jumped into a drum jam with didgeridoo and percussion.  The crowd began jumping, dancing, spinning, swirling and clapping but over to my right there was the owner steam pouring from his ears and cannons in his eyes.  He pulled Hammer aside again during a song and demanded we play a cover song immediately.  Hammer replied, “If you don’t leave us alone we are going to pack up and leave.”  The owner stormed off.  This would be yet another bridge burned by this band but one we all enjoyed pouring gasoline on and getting out the smores.
       Comfort is good for many things in our lives.  The fact that we can sit in our homes by a warm fire and sleep or read is a wonderful thing that should be embraced fully and enjoyed but comfort is also something that should be questioned on the spiritual path.  The owner of the Club was only comfortable with songs he already knew and nothing else.   He could only see his Club as being one way.   He built up a world that made sense to him and was unable to cope when that world came crumbling down.  He became angry when he not only didn’t get what he was comfortable with but he also had to watch as people embraced what he didn’t want.  I see many many churches, synagogues, and mosques filled with people like this.  They are furious when something goes against their interpretation of a belief or if their belief system is questioned; not their spiritual sense but their beliefs.  They are unwilling to change or open their mind and hear something new.  They are unwilling to dance to music that they have never heard.
I wish the spiritual path was comfortable and easy but God is like water; ever changing form, separating, freezing, melting, falling, dripping and rushing through everything and everyone.   You can live next to a lake your whole life and think you know everything there is to know about water until you travel to the ocean, until you look upon a glacier that plunges dark and deep just as high as it reaches for the sky, until you see a river caressing her way through a canyon, until you look through a microscope at human tissue and find water’s slippery footprint under your very skin – in your blood.  The same water you thought was only confined to the boarders of the lake.  You could turn your head and walk back to your quiet but very understandable lake and continue to believe and preach to the world that you know all there is to know about water, or you could open your eyes and dive in. 
      Resist dancing in step on your journey; question, argue and explore.  Listen to new and different voices – new and different songs.  Living a deeper life means leaving yourself open.  Yes, this can be scary.  Yes, this can be unsettling but there is no other way.   If you close yourself off to only a narrow view than all you hear or experience is funneled through the smallest of openings.   You close yourself off to hearing the Song in its entirety and hear only part of the music.
        On your path I hope you find your self dancing out of step. I hope you find yourself at accordion festivals and didgeridoo drum circles and I hope you dance and dance and dance.  I hope you find yourself leaving the comfort of you warm home from time to time and taking long walks in the rain.  These are the places you find the spirit.  These are the places you hear the voice.

Posted by Trent on Tuesday, September 4th, 2007 at 11:16 pm.