The joys of the sound check...

October 25^th – I used to do a bit on the folk circuits, vocals and backing stuff. Was never any great shakes but have worked with some fine, fine performers over the years I did it, no-one better than Dave James who is more than a folk singer-songwriter to me, he is a life inspiration. Now there are certain stereotypes that go with folk singing; finger-in-ear wailing; unkempt beards; sloppy Joes; sandals with a full compliment of black toenails; real ale; a proclivity of auditorium vocalists attending the gig who will, at the drop of a key, sing along lustily with the performer adding some harmonies that are off the scale as well as off the key. But as irksome as that last can be, that’s a shared experience that helps to bond the performer and audience and continue the tradition of handing down our oral history to those who follow.

It’s also, unfortunately, a type of music that is treated as background to drinking hubbub, with the members in the bar carrying on their conversations about the best Audi to buy or where the best authentic Cantonese/Vietnamese food can be purchase at normal room level volume whilst some poor bugger is out front trying to convince them that use of the cat ‘o’ nine tails is no answer to a disgruntled schooner crew or that seducing some poor lass in rig of rye is no answer to other matrimonial difficulties. I can remember doing a private party in some big house or other, a charity function, I believe, and one of the main members of the folk troupe I was with got fed up with the level of background chatter and laughter which continued on throughout the set even after we’d been announced. We were at the head of the stairs in this place sort of looking down from a minstrel’s gallery doing our best to compete against the laughter and guffaws that only the rich and privileged can release when, to my delight, as we regaled about the delights of playing in the rushes-o, I heard his dulcet tones coming over our assembled voices with the line;

I strangled woman who was talking her head off, and I threw her down the stairs”

Did they hear? Did they fuck; flat lined…but it kept us amused for a couple of songs so all worth it in the end. Thing is, with folk singing, you need little or no sound-check time. If your engineer knows your style then he can dry-run it if you’re late, and if he doesn’t then it’s usually only a vox mic and guitar pick ups that need balancing. Not so with rock bands…

Then we not only get a plethora of electronic kit that has myriad ways of malfunctioning but we also get ego. I’ve never met yet a rock band muso that, should the FOH sound be shite or monitor levels too high/low/indifferent won’t at first blame either the technology or the technician; never. They may be persuaded that, in fact, although sound engineers can work wonders they have yet to work the miracle of getting your out-of-tune vox in tune or of squashing the horrendous feedback you got at either mic or amp and which removed the front row’s fillings before it could be stifled. That’s why we all have to go through the stultifying, boring business of the sound check. This is a chance for the band and engineer to make sure that all feeds are good and the levels are OK, when we all know that what it actually is, is an opportunity for all band members to moan about the acoustics, the power supply, the lighting, the foldback, the seats, the house lights, the dressing rooms, the height of the stage, the depth of the stage…the list goes on.

All these things are flagged up for one reason; so they can be trotted out as excuses for rubbish work on the night. It’s like a security blanket that smothers their fragile egos in warm folds of Ah, never mind material. Always have to smile a bit when I’ve watched talent come into the theatre, go on stage, stand D/S/C, clap their hands then turn to anybody who’s listening and say;

That’s a lively sound

and I think;

Well, yes, but, you see, it’s empty now. When it’s full of people the room sound will change and that change will deepen and deaden depending on the total number of people who turn up to watch your sorry ass.’

After that we have the full sound check (joy) when markers can be put down as to just who and what isn’t doing it their job properly. I can remember having a band in (can’t remember who) and having to sit through a 45-minute sound check whilst the not very good, not very secure vocalist berated all and sundry about the sound that was coming through his monitors;

Can I have some more bass through this? – Can I have less drums and more backing vox? – Can I have just a little more horns through this? – Can I…Can I…Can I…?

My fuse is reasonably short when I see poseurs and liggers finding fault with others to excuse their own shortcomings so, after about 30-minutes of sitting through this shite I do believe I got up from the seat, pointed at the vocalist’s monitor and shouted out to the sound engineer;

Can you put some fuckin’ talent through this?

So imagine being on the sound crew of Bruce Springsteen’s Philadelphia concert on this day in 1976. Because Mr. Springsteen had not been happy with the sound he was getting during the tour he’d said he’d never play another sports arena. He relented and played the Philadelphia Spectrum BUT not before he insisted and got a 2 hour sound check… Oh, joy…was probably longer than the show.