Tuning Under Duress, Now Was the Time, and Quid Pro Dough

Tuning Under Duress

Dear Mr. P.C.:

Usually when I'm setting up for a gig, there will be other musicians doing the same, such as horn players. My question is: Why, when I am ready to tune my bass, do the rest of the musicians in the band suddenly feel it is time to warm up on their horns or noodle on their instruments? How can I tune when I can't hear? I realize it is a democratic society, but this seems almost intentional.

—Tuning Under Noisy Ensemble Unbearably Problematic 

Dear TUNEUP:

They're doing you a favor, giving you an excuse. When you play out of tune—which, face it, you'll do whether your open strings are tuned or not—you can blame it on them.  

Why are they willing to take the fall for you? Because your bad intonation gives them an excuse for their own intonation issues! 

It's a beautifully symbiotic relationship, TUNEUP. But there's an easier excuse for all of you—just tune to the club's piano.

Now Was the Time

Dear Mr. P.C., 

Is playing ahead of your time the same thing as rushing? 

—Vanguard Vic  

Dear VV:

At any given moment, your time is now. If you're playing ahead of your time, you're ahead of now, so now you have to rush to try to catch up. But it's a moving target you'll never reach, like a racing greyhound chasing the mechanical rabbit, an exercise in speed and frustration.  

On the positive side, critics will describe you as "moving the music forward."

Quid Pro Dough

Dear Mr. P.C.: 

This isn't exactly etiquette, I guess. But what do you think about quid pro quo gig exchanges? You know, where one artist books another, not because it's the best player for the gig, but in the hope that they'll be booked back in return?

—Questioning Unjust Interpersonal Deals   

Dear QUID: 

It's complicated. 

Let's say you book me on a gig with the expectation I'll book you back. And let's say I mean to, but it doesn't make sense on my next gig. On top of that, let's say I have similar relationships with other players. How do I keep track of all I owe and all that is owed me? 

Obviously, there needs to be currency of some kind: a simple IOU I can collect, dispense, and, in the privacy of my home, sort into two piles—owe and owed—for each musician I work with. 

Difficult questions arise: Can the IOUs be swapped? Is there an enforcement mechanism? Are there expiration dates? Do they accrue interest?  

One thing is certain: Eventually, like other commodities in our capitalist system, the IOUs will be assigned cash value, then bought and sold by profit-driven investors outside our jazz bubble. A different type of bubble will be created—the prices will quickly escalate, creating a disconnect between the IOUs' market value and their lesser worth as promised gigs.  

At that point, only the investors will be able to afford the IOUs, so before long all gig debt will be owed directly to them. Unfortunately, there won't be nearly enough gigs to cover the debt, but the more charitable brokers will let musicians work off the difference in entry-level office jobs.

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