Ike Turner’s Pantsuit is in Beijing

The Bar at the Hard Rock Café, Beijing

Just got back from a trip to Beijing – a wild place – the biggest city I have ever seen – glass high-rises form the canyon walls, eight-lane streets from the canyon floors, and they extend in every direction. In Beijing, drivers use the gas-pedal-and-horn technique. No braking. Cars slip in and out of lanes like fish moving around  a coral reef, and if there’s no room to park on the street, then they park on the pavement.

A welcome respite from the furious, progress-tinged pace of Chinese life is the Hard Rock Café, located sort of up-and-to-the-right of the Forbidden City, nestled in a grove of upscale Western hotels, not too far from Embassy row. As fascinating as Chinese life is, the Café is a wonderful oasis, where the music of Elvis, The Pretenders and the Stray Cats complement onion rings, burgers and (gasps with delight) Guinness. The large central area has a stage, already set up with drums, guitars and mikes. And around the walls are the glass cases containing guitars from McCartney’s Wings, Tom Petty, and Prince, just to name a few. One-piece outfits belonging to Elvis, Ike Turner and even Fred from the B-52′s stand silently in glass cases, and there’s even a row of signed drumheads.

I guess the Hard Rock is like Starbucks for the musically inclined: a consistent customer experience that varies little from city to city. Beijing is a fabulous place, especially if you like high speed and crowds, which I do, but I tell you, two hours at the Hard Rock was an oasis of the cool, beautiful glamour of Rock, Soul, Blues and Motown.

Hard Rock Café Memorabilia

Walkin’ in Memphis

Memphis: Beale Street. Everyone who is anyone has played here.

I went down to Memphis in the Spring of 2010. I wish I could say we went down as a band, but that time has not quite come yet. I went down on business, but mainly so that I could walk the streets of that hallowed city. It isn’t hyperbole to say that there truly is something in the air down there. Beale Street at midnight. That’s where it happens. A couple of blocks closed to traffic, and almost every establishment jumping with the sound of blues, soul, funk, played by people who really should be doing it professionally, on tour with the greats of the business. Who knows, maybe some of them do. I stepped into B.B. King’s and watched in awe. One guitar player looked like Matt “Guitar” Murphy. The other looked like John Byner, the comedian. He played a Strat upside-down, the way Hendrix did, but musically he played like Stevie Ray, except his face constantly was contorting with grimaces and and open-mouthed stares, as he pulled every note – note perfect – out of himself and through his beat-up instrument.

Memphis breathes music. Around the corner from Beale Street is the Rock ‘n’ Soul Museum, where sequined and fur-lined jumpsuits belonging to the King, as well as to Isaac Hayes and a host of other giants, nestle quietly and forever, alongside the mixing consoles from Sun Studios and from Stax Records, and guitars from Carl Perkins.

Between Beale Street and the Museum, and just up a slight rise that makes up part of the banks of the Mississippi, is a statue of a young Elvis, hips and acoustic guitar swinging.

Steve outside Graceland.

I had a driver who took me to Graceland, which was once a stately mansion, but now looks more like “just” an affluent home. Nice, to be sure, but not on par size-wise with the mega-homes of the Billy Joels of the world. Elvis might have owned two planes (they’re parked across the street), but he couldn’t have taxied either one of them into the foyer, which I think Billy Joel can, and John Travolta still does. My driver patiently took my picture outside the gates of Graceland, and was able to keep the shot tight enough so that the gas station and the fast food restaurants that now flank the estate did not make it into the picture. But of course, the mansion’s true size is in its history. What it stands for as a home and shrine. It is worth the detour to see it.

I have been lucky to have visited many cities in my day, but few come close to having the palpable air of the love of music that Memphis has. New Orleans, yes. Parts of New York City, perhaps. But it seems to all come together, there, next to the big gray river, and it’s a place to which I long to return.

- Steve

The double-triangular shape of a successful band

There is a great book in the business world called the E-Myth Revisited by Michael Gerber. It’s a book I recommend constantly because of its simple premise: just because you are good at something doesn’t mean you’ll make a good entrepreneur. It’s a myth (hence the “E” in the title).  To succeed in business, there has to exist a triangle of talents: your subject matter expertise or skill, matched by marketing ability and management ability. Marketing ability helps you locate new business and management ability helps the business run. Most businesses fail because the entrepreneur only wants to focus on what he/she does best, leaving the other two sides of triangle unattended, at which point the business collapses.

It’s the same with bands. Many people form bands, with the idea of jamming once per week,and then maybe getting a gig somewhere. There are a lot of talented, passionate musicians out there. But for the band to make it out of the basement, they must fit themselves inside two triangles: The first is the combination of talent, chemistry and schedules; people have to be able to play, but they also have to get along in some form – be on the same mental page; and finally, they need to be able to get together no less than once per week, in order to keep up the  momentum.

Once they complete the first triangle, they must then step into Mr. Gerber’s triangle and recognize that although playing music is fun, the industry they are operating in is called show-business, not show-play. A band is a business. It needs management and marketing just like any other entrepreneurial undertaking. That means contracts, bank accounts, insurance, punctuality, advertising, competitive analysis, pricing strategies and a plan. That’s not so much fun, but there’s the rub. Without all of these items backing you up, the band will just fall back in on itself.

For the musicians I meet who get into music to get away from the trappings of the business world, I say, do yourself a favor:  pick up Gerber’s book.

Full band rehearsals or partial-but-regular?

We’re having this discussion right now. Whether it makes sense to wait until the whole band is available, or whether it’s better to hold regularly-scheduled rehearsals to keep the momentum. We have decided to do both: keep our cherished Friday afternoon rehearsal slots, but also schedule a full band get together no more than 14 days apart. I mean if you really want to do good work as a cover band or a party band – or any type of live band, you’ve got to keep the groove going.