Editor’s Note

I got an interesting e-mail last month. Took me a while to answer. Came from a kid in a to-remain-unnamed European country working to make a rep for himself as a live audio engineer and service provider. Nice kid. We have corresponded a few times over several years. (All via ProAudioSpace, BTW. If you are still not on it, you are very much missing out on some good stuff.)

That hedline (yes, that's spelled right. It's an antiquated newsroom thing. We also call the first paragraph of a story a "lede") is a little misleading. It's the end of the year. Of course we are going to look back. It's one of those human nature issues.

We have all been there. It's the end of a long stretch of work, and though you should probably be out celebrating the end of a good run, in truth, there is just no gas left to fuel the fire.

Can't remember where I got that phrase. Think some celeb or another used it once to describe the "behind the scenes" people on a film. You know, the ones without which no production would ever happen.

So, I'm doing the Facebook exchange thing with a friend of mine. Subject is cooking, and I asked, "Why is it that so many musicians and sound guys I know are the ones who do all the cooking at home?" And her response was immediate and to the point. "Because we have passion for it."

I am a huge fan of a really well-crafted tune. I am not talking about art or music as a tool for social change. I am talking about pop songs that still sound fresh years after their release. One-hit wonders like "Smoke From a Distant Fire" by the Sanford Townsend Band, or "Brandy" by Looking Glass, and guilty pleasures like "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" by Wham! or "Where's the Love" by Hanson. Every one a little pop gem.

How the hell did I end up here? How does a guy with an intense fear of falling-who gets nervous on a stepladder-find himself on a warm Sunday night in June standing on a small platform 855 feet above the Las Vegas Strip and prepping to step off said platform into, well, into nothing but air?

A couple of weeks ago, a good friend of mine sent me a link to a video. Her name is Cheryl Cobb, but her maiden name is Evans, and we knew each other in junior high school but had not had contact for 20 years when I unknowingly asked her husband to do keyboard reviews for me back when I was editing GIG.

My house has what we call the "million dollar view." As in, if it were in L.A. or New York, the view alone would be worth a million bucks. In Vegas, it's not worth what we paid for it, but that is a different subject…

So I'm driving a car I'm not used to yet and it has some features that were not present on my last vehicle. Like "automatic lights." Silly me, I go to turn off the lights when I park the car and the car informs me that is a bad idea.

For many years, I provided audio gear and services for a charity event in the L.A. area. When I started doing it, I had crap gear and only a very basic idea of what I was doing. I was the quintessential guy in the band who owned the PA and charged them as such. As the years went on and I provided more and better gear and service, my price went up. Because it was a charity, I cut my normal price by about 25 percent.

There is a joke about sound guys that, while it does not shine the best possible light on us, causes every sound person I have ever told it to to either laugh or nod because it rings so true.

Q: How many sound guys does it take to screw in a light bulb?

A: 10. One to do it and nine to stand around telling each other how much better they could have done it.