Evangelicals Now
<< December 2007 >>

The Music Exchange

Characters from the music hall

Over the years I’ve met lots of different types of church musician who have humbled me, cheered me up, or have exasperated me. Here are some of them.

You may recognise them. If so, it’s not the same person I’m thinking of (I hope). This article may not be much use, but it’s November at the time of writing and I did Christmas last month, so I reckon it’s time for some free style. If I start with me first, at least I’m casting the first stone at myself!

Meet the colleagues

The imperfect perfectionist. Expectations set far too high, and yet unable to meet them oneself. This means that you can blame everyone else for your own mistakes.

The ‘humble’ reluctant. The piano teacher or ex-pro who ‘couldn’t possibly’ play for the church meeting. ‘Helpful’ feedback always at the ready though.

The jazzer. ‘What rehearsal?’

The eccentric enthusiast. Wild ideas, completely unachievable, but let’s have a go anyway.

The eccentric. Wild ideas, wild bow tie.

The choral society representative. ‘I can’t sing in a different key — I’ve got perfect pitch.’

Les. There’s always someone called Les. Usually sings bass. Has done for 20 years.

The wedding trumpeter. Breath-taking warm-up. Death-defying performance.

The opera singer. ‘I think she was a little too close to the mic.’ ‘Um...there was no mic.’

The ex-opera singer. ‘I used to be an opera singer.’

The aging rock band. ‘Can I have more of me in the foldback?’

The brazenly confident. ‘I’d like to bless everyone by performing during the service. I used to lead the worship at my last church. I write my own songs too. I’d like to sing you one of my songs now. Shall we wait till the sermon’s over? It works equally well in F or G. What was your name again?’

The lame excuse. ‘I think I’ve got a tickle in the back of my throat. It could be a full-blown sniffle by Sunday morning. I’ll give you a ring then and tell you whether I can sing or not.’

The rusty bassist. ‘Have you got another lead? I think it’s the lead. Dodgy connection. Can we swap leads? Cheers. (Crackle crackle BANG!!) No, yours is dodgy too. Anyone else got a lead? Anyone?’

The frustrated Spice Girl. ‘Can I do the harmonies?’

Any musician in any rehearsal. ‘Anyone got a pencil?’

The drummer in denial. ‘I’m not speeding up, everyone else is dragging.’

The mad-keen guitarist. ‘This would sound great with a Coldplay intro hanging out to dry on a D vamp launching into a full-throttle melt-down cutting into the bridge. Can you give me an E?’ (I never know what guitarists are talking about.)

The reluctant organist. ‘No I’m not playing with that guitarist. I never understand what he’s talking about.’

The over-looked work-horse. ‘Nobody loves me, everybody hates me — I’m going down the garden to eat worms.’

The (very much older) instrumental group. ‘Let’s play this one in D.’ ‘Did he say B?’ ‘No, he said E.’ ‘Why’s he want to do it in C?’ ‘He doesn’t, he said, “Let’s play this one in G”.’ ‘Right everybody, 1, 2, 3 go!’ (It’s unfortunate that the majority of keys all rhyme with each other, but it adds a real unpredictability and dynamism to rehearsals.)

Sensitive bunch.

Those are a few characters that make up the rich diversity of church musicians. We’re an oddly unpredictable and highly sensitive bunch. Handle with care, but don’t take our foibles too seriously.

Richard Simpkin