Envy. Gets us all.
You see this fella on the stage, the one with the saxophone. I’m picking the half the audience wanted to be him, and the other half wanted to be Walt Robberds, the front man of The Butlers holding a white guitar in the background and pictured lower down on this page. I’ve never met them. Never spoke to them. No idea what they’re like off stage. On stage, I’ve got a bit of an idea. Well, quite a bit.
I couldn’t get enough of these two. Lyrics, melodies, chords, rhythm, set choice aside, watching the crowd work of two artists made my night. I’ve caught Walt Robberds before. He’s a frontman’s frontman. Damn good singer and guitarist. Looks ultra cool without making an effort. Owns his lyrics. Gives the crowd bang for their buck.
The saxophonist. First time I’ve see him. Goes by the name Big Red (at least, I read this somewhere else, could be a one off, but I liked it, so we’ll keep it). Corny as this may sound, the saxophone and he were in love. It was beautiful. Seeing them separated would be unnatural. Upsetting. Wrong. This is a musician magnificently in tune (apologies) with his instrument.
Years of work go into this. Years and years. Days. Hours. Sacrifice. Passion. Love. I can think of others I’ve seen like this. Shaan Singh (Drax Project frontman and saxophonist), Oliver Wallace-Pram (lead guitar, Th’Goodside), Anita Clark (violinist, performs as Motte), Nick Douch (drums, Ekko Park) come to mind. A memory of the sound should come first. Out of respect for the artist, I wish it did. It doesn’t.
What comes first is all visual. How the saxophone, guitar, violin, drumsticks are held. Not held in a technical way. Held in a ‘this is part of me’ way. Like Big Red is showing the audience. Left hand on sax, right hand outstretched. This is who I am. Same for Singh. For Wallace-Pram. For Clark. For Douch. And for every musician who picked up an instrument one day and didn’t want to be separated from it.
Much like the photographers who can’t be separated from their camera.
Perhaps, after all, it’s not envy I dreamed up a few paragraphs ago. Perhaps it is just simply respect. And gratitude, for you learn something from watching musicians like Big Red.
Practice.
Practice.
Practice.
Reward.
The reward being you get to stand on stage, doing the thing you love, in front of people who love it.
So thank you, Big Red. Hope to see you again one day.
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