Times Change But They're Still the Same

On Sunday (Feb. 21) I attended an afternoon jam session at the Biltmore Cabaret (don't let the name fool you, it's a hotel tavern) in almost-downtown Vancouver. Ridley Bent, Dustin Bentall (Barney's son), and a couple of other songwriters along with some members of their respective bands took to the stage for an afternoon of musical camaraderie. They each performed five songs, then groups were assembled and the jamming began.

Over the years I have attended and hosted numerous jam sessions. They can be lots of fun or a complete drag, depending on when and where the jam is being held and who is involved. Sunday's performance was interesting for me because of what the bar scene has become. The Biltmore Cabaret is the tavern of a Howard Johnson's hotel. No surprise there. The first difference I noticed was the lack of the "tavern smell" that permeated so many of the places that we used to play. Usually it's a kind of olfactory crucifixion consisting of stale beer and cigarette smoke topped off with a tinge of bathroom odour; instead walking into the place did not assault your senses at all. Anti-smoking rules do work. Who knew? The second was the house PA and lighting system. In our day we carried our own production. These days the venue supplies it. And, the soundman has become the soundwoman, and a good one too.

Another change is the lack of involvement of the club. Today, musicians do their own advertising and many times only play one night or even one set. We played six nights a week for five hours a night, the club or tavern advertised (sort of), there was rarely a cover charge, and we were paid a contracted amount. Today's players negotiate a base rate for the band, if they're lucky, and rely on the door charge which is usually split between several bands. No audience. No money. Tough gig. I think in this way, the change in the scene is not a good thing. It's now more difficult for young musicians to make a living, and they don't get the benefit of 30 hours a week playing together either.

The biggest change, however, is with the music. When I was on the road, we played cover songs. There was not the competition or other choices for the Great Unwashed. There were no sports bars, neighbourhood pubs, or discos. Those venues emerged later. During the 1980s, if folks wanted to go out and dance there was only one choice and that was a live band. We had to play cover songs because that's what the people wanted to hear. They wanted to dance to the songs they heard on the radio. We couldn't play original music. The audience was non-receptive to creativity and club owners frowned on it. Original music sucked, or at least that was the perception. We would sandwich our original material between two cover songs and disguise the fact the song was one of ours. This was because most of our cover tunes were not the hit songs per se, so we could get away with playing material that was somewhat unfamiliar to the audience. To satisfy our musical "Jones" we played the other songs on the same album as a particular hit. We chose songs that we felt were much better than the hit song. In this way, our set list was eclectic enough that slipping in original material would not draw attention from the club owner and we could fool the audience. Isn't that sad? We had to fool the audience in order to play something we wrote.

Today's bar scene is the complete opposite of what we dealt with. And it's the music that does it. Whereas original songs were anathema in our day, today's bar scene thrives on original tunes. You can't be a front man unless you write songs. Being able to sing is not enough anymore. For example, at Sunday's jam Dell Cowsill (son of legendary singer/songwriter Billy Cowsill) took the stage with some of his friends. Dell plays bass with Dustin Bentall and during a lull in the activity had decided he wanted to play something just to have a good time. Cool. He played a couple of Beatles' songs and "Down By the River" by Neil Young. The boys did a great job of faking their way through the songs, it was musical self-indulgence at its finest. Been there, done that...lots. After his short session, Dell came off the stage to chat with some of the players scattered about. They were all laughing about the performance. "Total cheese, man, total cheese," said one. "Hilarious," said another.

To quote Bob Dylan, "The times they are a-changin'" and how they have. Musicians today are not the live jukeboxes they were when I was playing. Original music is seen as something you have to do, especially if you're playing the bar and club scenes. Sure, there are still bar cover bands, I saw one a couple of weeks ago, but audiences have moved from drinking and dancing to drinking and listening. It's the "old" bars that have the cover bands. And no one goes to the "old" bars anymore. The "new" bars have original music of all kinds. It's exciting and it's what people want and expect. Go figure.

At the risk of getting all weepy and sentimental here, just let me say that it's good to see the musical torch passed on to such a willing and able gaggle of young players. The legacy that my generation of musicians left behind can be heard in the songs of Ridley Bent, Dustin Bentall, and Corb Lund. While we may not have been able to play original music, we were able to create a western Canadian prairie sound that was different than what was coming out of central or eastern Canada. I hear Killer Tumbleweeds, Longshot, and Weekend Whiskey Band in the songs of Ridley, Dustin, and Corb. I hear the musical influences that had a hand in sculpting my style and the styles of my compadres being restyled and re-presented by the musicians playing today's country music. These guys are digging Gram Parsons and Hank Williams perhaps more than we ever did. Today's players play original music. And I think it's a good thing and about bloody time.

Get out there and support them.