Long Live The Players

They are the unsung heroes of the music universe. You may see them in the unfocused background of the videos or on the darker parts of the stage, but without them, music does not happen. The “musicians” we celebrate are nothing without them and the true artists will be the first to admit it.

They are the players. They are the wizards who breathe life into the songs that will forever be credited to somebody else, even though it is their creativity, their skill, and their passion that make the songs worth listening to. They are the ones that bring colors to the palette and flavors to the dish. They are poets without words, speaking through their instruments so that somebody else’s voice is heard more clearly, more distinctly, more beautifully.

And most of us don’t even know their names.

While the people on the album covers get the interviews, the awards, and the lucrative record deals, it is the ones whose faces you hardly ever see that truly make the music. It is their beats that you dance to, their grooves that you feel, and their guitar solos that you belt at the top of your lungs. Without them, the vast majority of modern artists are nothing more than a few chords, shallow lyrics, and a moderately catchy melody… if they’re lucky. Without them, most of music as we know and hear it would simply not exist.

Indeed, part of the beauty of music is the many parts of the whole; the group speaking with one voice. This is not to say that solo music cannot be beautiful; far from it. But there is certainly a unique power that is created by several different people on several different instruments simultaneously painting the same picture. There is a unique intensity to it; the telling of the same story with many different voices all speaking at the same time. The band creates a sort of community that no single person can, in and of themselves, accomplish. Even musical geniuses and prodigies cannot do it all, and supposing they could, they couldn’t do it all at once. Thusly, we buy albums and go to concerts based on one person’s name, but we are more-often-than-not exposed to a band of players; a group of musicians whose efforts are no less important, no less valuable, and, most times, much more difficult. We may pay more attention to the one underneath the spotlight at the front of the stage, but make no mistake: what we feel, what we hear, what we experience and what we love is largely the creation of people we wouldn’t recognize if we bumped into them walking down the street.

It’s true that modern technology has attempted to reduce the need for the great players, but the real appreciators of music will always know the difference. Drum grooves that come from a box and the robotic corrections of ProTools will never be able to replace the human touch of the live musician. In art, the perfect is the enemy of the good, and no computer will ever make music as beautiful, as real, or as genuine as is made by a person.

So, long live the players. Long live the music makers. Long live those whose passion is the performance and not the fame. Long live those whose talents and abilities are bigger than mere commercialism. Long live those who love music and not trend. Long live the perpetual students and the self-denying masters. Long live innovation and not derivation.

Long live the players.