The Big Break

From behind the curtain, alone together…

It’s one of those weeks in Nashville where there is so much happening around town that it makes my head spin. It’s Americanafest! Every year the wheels of doubt spin in me in anticipation of the whole thing. I wonder, do I belong? Do I fit in here? 

The short answer is YES. 

And so do you. 

But sometimes the noise is so loud it’s hard to hear the music. 

We live in a wellspring of creation. It’s a palpable energy that can be accessed, solely by the strength in numbers of people who are here because they love music. It’s more amplified on a week like this because we are all thinking about it even more. 

On Tuesday I was invited to sit in with the band ‘Them Vibes’ at the Basement East event ‘Shine a Light’ which was a Rolling Stones tribute night. It was a benefit for the Sims Foundation. I played ‘Moonlight Mile’ which is the last track on ‘Sticky Fingers,’ one of my fav Stones records.

Photo by Craig Toney

 To prepare I listened to the song 40-50 times, pseudo transcribed the string arrangement on a notepad, had a very short rehearsal (like 5 minutes) and hoped for the best. 

Standing nervously backstage waiting to go on, I felt the mix of excitement to do my thing as well as the nervous energy in me. Will I totally suck, do I even know how to play music? It is always right there. Always. 

Leah Blevins went out and slayed ‘Wild Horses.’ That song is one of my fav songs of all time. It is with me in sickness and health, good times and bad. It means more to me than I can really explain. As she sang, the other jittery musicians and I stood side stage, and when the first chorus came in, we all spontaneously started singing in harmony. It was this moment… where it all melted away - all of the doubt, jealousy, confusion, whatever mystery of being a musician that happens when you have spent your life waiting for the ‘big break’ that helps it all make sense. To me, that was ‘THE BIG BREAK.’ We let it all fall down and sang a favorite song, sung by a beloved singer and the aloneness of everything was let go. 

When it became my turn to play, all of the self doubt evaporated as soon as I heard the violin start to play itself in the song. I looked out over the room. The packed crowd was giving us back more than we could ever put out. The room was alive. I saw many friends out there, and thought, damn, this is cool. This is why we do what we do. This is energizing. I'm a lifer.