You’re sitting in a bar, or pub, or coffee shop, whichever tickles your fancy; you’re enjoying whatever beverage you like to sip; and across the room a few people are running cables around a an open area where the pool table usually sits. You hear a familiar chirp as a scruffy guy plugs in a guitar and steps up to a microphone.
“Hello,” he says. “Here’s a song.” He turns to the drummer who clicks the four beat intro, and they’re off, jamming to some rock cover or folk tune or acoustic ballad.
The live band: is there anything more exciting? Roller coasters. Childbirth, probably.
Okay, is there anything more exciting while sitting in a public venue? An armed robbery attempt, I would imagine.
Okay, my point is that bands are cool. Unless you’re one of those weird people that don’t like music—in which case I’d rather not associate with you, so I don’t care if you feel excluded—everyone likes music. And hearing great music performed by real people instead of from an iPod or YouTube is an exhilarating experience no matter how shitty the talent. And believe me; I know a thing or two about shitty talent.
Meet Sparrow McGee, Ohio’s premiere Classic Rock, Alt Rock, Folk Rock, Ska, Punk, Ska-Punk, Reggae, Doo-wop (seriously, we’ll play anything for money) cover band. Formed by five high school pals from the great city of Tiffin, Ohio, Sparrow McGee tours the county each year, hitting a remarkable three venues, including one local sports bar, a back porch full of college guys, and a barn. Since their humble beginnings, they’ve had to find replacements for their bassist, their lead singer, and their van, but their spirit lives on as they rock the house month after month.
Thinly-veiled self-deprecation aside, being in a band is one of the best things I’ve experienced. I know we aren’t nearly talented enough to pack houses much bigger than Coco’s Bar and Grill, but it’s still a blast entertaining our fans (though most of them are family members).
However, there’s one thing I could really do without. Since we’re a cover band, listeners enjoy hearing the songs they know and love, the songs they hear on the radio, and the songs they haven’t heard in years. The most common praise we receive is that we have a great selection of songs—ranging from 1955 to 2015—so the folks on the dance floor get so excited hearing such a variety, that they think we can play anything. And thanks to a few very talented musicians who are up to the challenge, we are expected to spit out any and all requests sent our way. The thing is, we aren’t that good. We can’t play every song we’ve ever heard. It takes time to learn rhythms and lyrics and melodies and harmonies.
“Play ‘Free Bird,’” a voice shouts from the back.
“Go to hell,” a voice replies from behind the drum kit. Not only is your request unoriginal, and no longer funny, but it is disrespectful to the group who has put time into choosing, practicing, and performing a select set of songs for your enjoyment. So no, sir. We will not play “Free Bird.” Nor will we play “Don’t Stop Believin’” or anything by Bon Jovi.
Next time you’re seeing a stand-up comic, ask him or her to do a certain bit, and see how it goes. Better yet, ask them to do a bit made famous by another comedian. You wouldn’t go to an art gala and request that all the paintings be replaced by “Garfield” comics. You wouldn’t ask Martin Scorcese to make a film in the style of “Beauty and the Beast.” You wouldn’t tell The Who to play Katy Perry.
Now, I realize Sparrow McGee is worth less than Keith Moon’s sweat-stained boxers from 1969, but taking unwarranted requests after playing what we thought was a kick-ass opening set is still annoying. We’re not a jukebox. We’re not YouTube or Spotify. I hope we’re better than radio. Occasionally, we'll play something you request, but don’t expect us to play what you want; that’s not how this arrangement works.
Who knows; maybe one day we’ll be big enough to play our own songs in front of sold-out crowds across the country. Maybe one day. For now, we’re still packing Coco’s and raising barn roofs. Have a nice day.
