Waiting For the Rain

Today the world awaits the second installment of ABC's new prime time soap, "Nashville."

As a resident of greater Nashville, I am interested in how the TV show will affect our economy. It is said that 125 to 150 people have found steady employment on the production and that, better yet, if a full season is shot here (hoping that last week's pilot and it's 9 million viewers keep coming back for more), $44 million dollars is expected to be spent. Also, according to Sunday's Tennessean article by Jaquetta White : "So far, (the) 'Nashville' produc­tion has involved 350 to 400 Tennessee vendors, according to an assistant to the show’s pro­ducer. That includes transportation, construction, design, cleaning and just about any other type of company that comes to mind."

As the pilot's storyline portrays, the real Nashville is filled with people who have moved their lives to this great Music City to fulfill dreams of being a star. The problem is the industry has a very narrow view of who's an investment-worthy new act. Its all about how quickly a company can return their investment and start making a profit. If your song moves up too slow or stalls somewhere on the chart without establishing you as a star, you're probably going to return to the line of starving artists, hoping for another shot.

Being a song writer myself, I can relate. The music business has changed dramatically since the digital revolution, and even the stalwart "Big Three" music conglomerates haven't seen profits like they used to back in the boom days. The game is tougher, meaner and potentially leaves more souls in the dust.

Being creative is a faith game. We write songs, books, screenplays, or whatever, without any guarantee that they'll ever see the light of day. We can only do our best and keep writing, re-writing and editing so that, hopefully, someone will see what we see in our work.

For twenty years I've been waiting at the curb four times a year for that royalty check from which comes a diminishing amount of money. The faith it takes to keep writing and creating is too costly for many. Its not uncommon for those who moved to town in the boom days to head back to Indiana or Louisiana, in hopes of finding a different line of work in a less competitive environment.

Its kind of like Noah in the Bible: We keep building something for which there is no apparent reason. A voice in our head says, "Build it and the opportunity will come." But there are no clouds in the sky! As a creative person, I can't let the discouragement freeze me out of doing what I love. Living in Nashville among other artist creates camaraderie...we all cry on each other's shoulders. The best we can do is build the finest "boat" we can while waiting for the rain. There's something to be said about being ready when opportunity strikes!

A Disaster Averted

Sunday was a day I won't soon forget. As music director, it's my responsibility to keep things rolling smoothly at church on a weekly basis, and to make corrections when necessary. I'll contact the worship leader the week before if anything in the song list or the the musical lineup needs tweaking. I try to head any problems off at the pass, but this particular weekend was crazy.

Our drummer was driving down from East Nashville to be with us at our Spring Hill location--about a 45-minute drive. I usually leave my house at 6:50 AM to be on stage by 7:00 (oh, the blessing of living near my church!). The musicians started arriving and began setting up. I noticed our drummer wasn't there, and it was 7:10. Then 7:20 came;  I started to get concerned.

My brother Jon and his family were in town from Birmingham, Alabama, for a visit. I had just said "good morning" to him as he was doing his quiet time. Collecting my things before leaving, I mentioned how cool it would be for him to play drums with our worship band sometime,  and that it would be like old times when we traveled the country and the world together thirty years ago as musicians. (I am reluctant to ask him to play because, when he comes to my place, he's looking for a break from his own weekend responsibilities as drummer for his church's worship band).

The hands on my watch showed 7:30. Oh crap--we've got a problem! I needed to somehow locate the missing drummer and started plotting what to do if he couldn't make it. I was concerned that he had an accident, slept in, or had mistakenly showed up at our Franklin campus. I couldn't find a phone number for the drummer and didn't see any texts or messages from him on my phone. So, it was up to me to find a solution to the eminent catastrophe brewing on the horizon: no drums for the two services that were only a little over an hour away.

I called my brother when he was still sitting alone doing devotions. He was surprised that we needed a drummer--especially since we talked about it a short while before.  He hesitated for a moment before saying, "I'll be there!" He made it within 15 minutes, we rehearsed, and he did a killer job both services.

In my career, I've learned that anything can happen, anytime, like the time Jon's drums never showed up at a gig we flew to in Houston. After a bit of an emotional and an equipment adjustment, Jon improvised and played the whole gig on just a snare drum--the only piece of gear we were able to scrape up. We probably played one of our best shows that night.

It's convenient when my brother, a drummer, is staying at my place, five minutes from church when I need him. But most of the time, it seems that options are few and time is limited when problems arise.

I later learned that our original drummer had blown a tire on the interstate. He didn't have my phone number to make a call. I was relieved to hear that he had the tire repaired, and since we were already starting the second service by that time he was set to go, he just headed back home.

I thank God for turning a disaster into a heart-affirming opportunity for my brother. It was also a chance to reunite with him after a 15-year gap between playing together. And most of all, the church didn't even know the difference--maybe it was one of the best worship sets we've done.

Sometimes the pressure helps to step up our game. I hope we don't see another one of those "growth opportunities" for a while...I'm still reeling from the bullet that just missed us!

Lead...Then Get Out of the Way!

Dolly Parton was in our local news this week. It brought to mind what she always says about her appearance: "It takes a lot of money to look this cheap!" And that, my friends, leads me to a few thoughts about leading worship.

I had a great conversation yesterday with a new friend on the subject of worship. He once had a mentor who said the #1 thing to remember as a worship leader is to lead the congregation to the Throne, then get out of the way. I heartily agree.

The difficulty in preparing for worship, and making plans to get out of the way, is that it takes a lot of skill to make it look so simple--thus, the reference to Dolly Parton. I've had the rich experience of playing behind some of the greatest worship leaders of our time. I took the opportunity years ago, while being a back-up musician, to study the way an excellent leader bonds with and leads their audience. It's hard to reduce a skill like this to a few points--and with such limited time--but there are some basic things to which a young, or a new worship leader can aspire.

It's important to have a worship plan, but be willing to abandon it to follow where the Holy Spirit leads. The crucial thing to remember is that the Spirit is leading us during our planning time, too, and it has been the rare occasion that I've ventured away from the original plan. So, the plans we make must be solid, Spirit-filled, and we must scrutinize every aspect in order to help the audience focus on God.

Our goal is not necessarily to have an impressive set of songs, or to create an opportunity to display our artistry. It's always been, though, about leading our congregation to God and getting out of the way! Here are some things that help me every time I sit down to plan a service.

1) Choose congregational keys for the songs.

Some worship leaders blame the audience for not singing, but the reason they aren't singing may be because they can't sing the song in the key you've chosen. A congregation has a limited range that goes fro B flat--below middle C--to D, an octave and a whole-step from middle C. Choose song keys where the melody stays within these boundaries. Worship leaders that are altos and high tenors can make the mistake in keying the songs to their own singing range.  In doing so, they alienate John and Jane Q. Public's ability to sing the songs!

2) Be prepared so that you are at rest with yourself on stage.

Think through the transitions between songs--what you're going to say and what you'll play. Work out a seamless way to go from one song to another. Dead airtime in a service (mostly between songs) can be a trust-killer for audiences (sometimes in the middle of a sweet time of worship, though, silence can be golden). It's smart to practice transitions in rehearsal. Make a "cheat sheet," if needed, to lay on the stage floor in front of you. A quick glance downward can rescue you during a momentary lapse of memory. Know your chords, use a monitor for lyrics, make eye contact with your congregation and draw them in. Being comfortable on stage will help your audience trust and follow you. Confidence breeds confidence.

3) Don't be afraid of dynamics in the service.

It's okay to bring the music down to one instrument at times, especially during an intimate moment in worship. The stripped-down, single instrument can facilitate a "one-on-one" feel that will enhance an intimate lyric. Some people ask me why my sets usually start with faster songs and end with softer songs. I answer that it's human nature. In other words, folks are coming in from the parking lot, hardly focused on spiritual things. Faster songs, with a "gather together" lyric, help focus attention toward the stage to begin the worship journey ahead.  It's our job as leaders to help the congregation focus ultimately on God and not themselves. I design a worship set to facilitate this journey for them--like concentric circles leading into the "bulls eye" of intimate worship.

4) New songs may be cool, but a familiar song always wins.

Choosing songs from the CCLI top 25 may keep us from feeling stagnant and bored, but don't underestimate the emotional power of hymns and of older worship songs. Why? Because people are already familiar with these songs; they've already made an emotional connection with them. Emotional connections and familiarity are important in worship because the congregation can close their eyes and sing without looking at the lyrics on screen. It's important to teach new songs, too, just not too many at one time. Remember, it's not about you, but about the journey of the congregation and, more importantly, about God. Don't let the need to be cutting-edge veer you away from the chief goal: to lead the congregation toward a deep and personal connection with God.

As we grow in our ability to lead people, we see that it takes a ton of  life-experience and skill to make our jobs look easy, and it takes a considerable investment of time each week to be effective. It's all about leading our church family to the Throne and getting out of the way, to leave them standing alone in the presence of God.

Family Is Everything

It's sad to witness a family falling apart. On the Orange County Chopper TV show, with it's stars Paul Teutul Sr. and Paul Jr., we have, like voyeurs, watched them fighting over business matters for the past three years. This new season shows the Teutuls making an attempt to heal the rift through building a bike together. I felt like cringing every time I'd hear the disrespect, from both sides, in the form of fiery comments to the camera, as if the camera crew were arbitrators in the on-going battle.

Last night, as Brenda and I sat with my dad for dinner, I asked him if he has good memories of his father. He said that he never really knew his dad and that, as far as he remembered, he wasn't home very much. When he was home, my dad continued, it was to sleep-off a late-night drinking marathon. I feel bad for my father because he never had that opportunity to hang out with his pop like I have been blessed to do with mine.

After all is said and done, our families are the core of our lives. I couldn't imagine a life without clear communication, love and trust between those in my family. So much of who I am is wrapped up in being a husband and a father. My greatest memories are of reading to my kids as we cozied up in their beds after bath time. If I made a mistake with a show of anger, I always tried to say I was sorry.

Tomorrow, Brenda and I will make an early morning trip to Murfreesboro where, in a local hospital, our first grand baby will be delivered by C-section. Pop will be with us, too. That will make four generations of Harvills in that hospital, when Josh and Amber's Norah Charlotte finally arrives.

Brenda and I weren't perfect parents. I especially lost my patience more than a couple of times, and in the heat of frustration, I most certainly said some regrettable things. But I am proud of the way Josh and Betsy have turned out, in spite of my failings. I see the way they treat their spouses with love and through servant-hood. I hope my love for their mother was an inspiration to them.

I pray the forth generation of Harvills carries on the legacy that my parents and Brenda's parents started back before she and I were born. On both sides, there were broken marriages, but our parents were determined to change all that.

I feel for broken families. Its not too late to make a change, to take a u-turn and come together as families. I believe my wife, kids, grand kids and extended family are, next to God, everything.

Writing Is Hard

Writing is hard. It's like writing songs: you rewrite over and over again, and when you think everything is fine, there's still a need for revision. I am, what you might call, an avid reader, so I know what great writing tends to look like. The tough part is that what I think--or should I say--the way my brain composes sentences, isn't particularly kosher with grammar nerds. By the way, if it weren't for the spellchecker on my Mac, I would be in serious trouble.

I wouldn't call my wife and editor, Brenda, a nerd, but she has a mighty fine eye for poor grammar, due to her excellent private school education. Can I blame my lame writing skills on the fact that I grew up in Southern California during a particularly lax period when my public school system thought it intrusive to actually fail students with poor writing skills? How would I know then that I'd grow up and want to be a writer?

Kids don't usually have the forethought when it comes to their health or good writing and math skills. We trash our bodies with doughnuts and candy bars until, in our 40s, we get a bad report from the doctor. Only then do we kick into high gear and change our slothful eating habits. As kids we look at our report cards and chuckle, thinking we'll never use those skills we learned (or didn't learn) in real life. Well, I'm here to tell you--yes, all you kindergarten students just starting your first few weeks of school.--PAY ATTENTION!

I wish I had taken seriously my English teacher in Jr. High who said good grammar is the foundation for a good life. Well, maybe I wouldn't go that far, but I will admit that learning good grammar habits will save you the grief I've experienced since deciding to become a writer. Even in the case of writing songs,  verb and subject agreement still applies. On a side note, if you're going to write worship songs, take a few classes on theology in college: it helps when you get that right, too!

So, with all of this push-back when it comes to writing, why do I still want to sit here at my Mac and pound through another blog post, work on a book or write another song? I mean...who is really reading or listening? My answer is: It doesn't matter. I am compelled--simply put! I love the process, and will keep writing until either my hands wither up from arthritis or I die and my cold hands lay frozen on this keyboard--God forbid!

Please work with me here--I"m probably going to misspell a few words, and will certainly abuse grammar now and then, but I'm going to say what's on my heart. No matter how difficult the process, here I go again. And, oh, thanks for reading!

When You're Not Invited to the Party...

I wasn't surprised to see on the Tennessean newspaper's front page this past Sunday morning a prominent photo and headline of one of my favorite country artists, Marty Stuart. If you've been reading my blog for the past two years, you already know about my fascination with this guy.

Photo by Anthony Scarlati

Yes, his music is what I like to listen to. Yes, I am a sucker for his Saturday night TV show on the RFD-TV network--probably because it's got an old-school Porter Wagoner Show look, due to the fact that Directv doesn't broadcast it in HD yet.

All of this pales to the fact that the music coming out of my TV speakers during the show each week is fresh. This is ironic since many of the music styles Stuart leans on hale from late 60s/ early 70s. The Fabulous Superlatives, Marty's band, are creating killer music, and everyone from Shooter Jennings to Emmylou Harris to Merle Haggard have made an appearance on the show. Everybody seems to be paying attention! That's why I wasn't surprised to see the front page Sunday.

Marty has enjoyed a remarkable career. In 1972, as a 13-year-old fresh out of Philadelphia, Mississippi, he was invited to play mandolin with the Lester Flatt bluegrass band. As he got older and his playing matured, he was introduced to all of the bad things that many a young musician finds along the road: drugs and too much alcohol. His career took a huge step forward when, in October 1989, his solo record "Hillbilly Rock" started climbing the charts. He spent most of the 90s releasing hit records and enjoying "star" status. After a while, country music headed in a different direction, leaving Stuart and many other artist clamoring for a career. That's when Marty went to his old friend and former boss, Johnny Cash, for some advise. From  Peter Cooper's interview in Sunday's Tennessean, Marty explained,

“I said (to Cash), ‘I can’t seem to get my hand on the brass ring down­town,’ ” he says. “He (Cash) said, ‘There ain’t no brass ring, and if there is and if you get it, what have you got?’

Another pivotal conversation  spawned one more of many "aha" moments. Stuart was troubled with the state of traditional country music and expressed:

“I thought, our culture’s slip­ping away,” he says. “I thought, ‘The music itself is fast fading.’ I had a talk with (gospel music kingpin) Bill Gaither, and he said, ‘If you love your culture and stand by it when nobody else does, you become the go-to guy for your culture, because of your love.’ ” 

 Since then, Marty has taken a lonely road but one that proved to be exactly the best direction he could have steered his career. Now he is the go-to guy for traditional music.

My take-away from Marty Stuart and his amazing story is this: When you're not invited to the party, throw your own! In doing so we may find that, 1) everyone's waiting for someone else to make the move, and 2) the music business needs a brave soul to step out and take a chance with passion, determination and class with music they love. Chances are there are thousands of fans just waiting to throw their hard-earned money down on you and your music.

Hammond Organ Heaven

You could walk into a grandma's house--probably one out of ten in the 1970s--and would see a beautiful wooden console keyboard in the corner next to a couch covered in protective plastic. I'll admit I took those old spinet organs for granted. Sure, its still common to see a rock concert stage fitted with a Hammond B3 or C3, but those smaller-sized organs seemed to be the ones old folks would buy to power up for family gatherings at Christmas. I'll bet many a Hammond spinet organ found its way into a trash heap, the value unbeknownst to those cleaning out grandma's house.

Hold on before you make that mistake! As I have learned from my dear friend Kevin Shaw, those old Hammond keyboards can still, if in solid working order, put out the wonderfully mind-blowing tones that we all cherish.

A Hammond M3, similar to the one Kevin's restoring.

I have an indelible memory of hearing a rock band with a Hammond organ back in the 60s at Disneyland. The swirl and stereo effect of the organ/Leslie combo helped give bands a signature sound. Deep Purple and other groups like Procal Harrum with "A Whiter Shade of Pale," Argent's "Hold Your Head Up," songs by Emerson, Lake and Palmer and late-70s rockers like Foreigner, Styx and Kansas, are all known for using a Hammond. The slightly distorted organ helped glue each band's sound together and paired so well with the dirty dual guitars that filled our stereo speakers.

Arguably, little spinets like grandma's Hammond M3 can sound mighty close to their big brother, the B3, albeit with fewer bells and whistles.

I wrote earlier this spring of a Hammond M3 that my buddy Kevin Shaw masterfully restored for my church. Once we got that thing up and running for our worship band to enjoy, I started to pray for my own Hammond set up--and I don't even play keys!

Leslie 120 cabinet

This past week I visited Kevin and he pointed to a Leslie 120 in the corner of his shop. We hooked it up to one of his fabulous-sounding guitar amps--and there it was: the swirling, room-filling tone that guitarists die for (remember that George Harrison "While My Guitar Gently Weeps"?). Its the real thing!

He then took me out to his fabrication shop and showed me the Hammond M3 he was fixing. Kevin asked me if I was interested in purchasing both the M3 and the Leslie cabinet after he completed the repairs...Is the pope Catholic?!...YES!!

So, this weekend Kevin's bringing the M3 and the Leslie over to my place. I am looking forward to using this rig for organ overdubs but am equally looking forward to using the Leslie for some of that classic guitar swirl that most players can only get from using pedals. Yep! I'll be be in swirl heaven.