I caress the smooth spool of solder as I wait in anticipation for the soldering gun to heat up. I strip the rubber from my cable just enough to give myself a workable amount of copper, and with heated iron in hand, I touch the tip to the end of the solder melting just enough to coat the end of the cable. I repeat the process over my solder point and leave a perfect shining spot where I then touch the end of my cable and hold for a moment before I release the iron. A thin line of smoke wafts up and tickles my nostrils with its delicate fragrance. Ah, I love the smell of solder in the morning.
My screw gun sings its high-wailing song as I put together my racks. I go over my stage plot and program my input list and monitor mixes into the digital console. I clean my amplifiers and pack my cable trunks. I double check my microphones and count out my stands. I ensure that I have the proper steel package and that my motors are packed and ready to go. My power distro energetically lines itself up behind the feeder cable trunk and my line array looks ready to fly. Equipment gives back what one puts into it; if it is cared for and given enough energy it will not fail. “Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain’t somethin’ else. This is this.”
In Demand
Then the phone rings and I shift to another part of my brain, “This is Baker speaking. May I help you?” It could be one of many voices on the other end of the line, a male, a female, a knowledgeable person or a complete novice in the field of audio. They might be on tour planning a stopover at one of the many television shows or arranging a showcase in some room that was chosen for décor and not for sound. The voice on the other end of the line might be supercilious and ignite my ire. Either that or the obsequious tone may inspire a sugar-coated nausea to rise up inside and gag me, but regardless of tone or timbre, these voices share in common a cry for help and a demand for a solution. “I need a sound system. I need in-ears. I need a microphone for 500 people. I need a lot, but only have a little. I need to fill a rider for a famous act I booked, but I’m a nonprofit organization. I need help! Help me please!
The veins in my forehead are bulging and a red hue begins to filter my vision. I unclench my teeth and puffing up to my intimidating and green post Bruce Banner size, I scream into the mouthpiece of the technology that has brought me more than my share of irritation, “WHO CARES WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT ABOUT ME?” Sure, you have needs, but I have needs, too. How are you going to help me? Don’t just think you can throw money at me and I’ll jump at your every command or fill your every whim. I have my pride, you know, and I have grown weary of hearing that phrase “I need, I need, I need.” When do I get my share of the pie? When do I get to demand? WHAT ABOUT ME?
What About Me?
I push my gear to the loading dock and load the truck. I look forward to the magic and joy of putting all the pieces together and making them fit like some giant 3D jigsaw puzzle. There is a technical skill to packing a truck utilizing mathematical and spatial relationships. The only stipulations are those that can be clearly defined by the physical boundaries of the box into which the smaller boxes are being loaded. There is no grey area and no room for misinterpretation, and while the puzzle might be put together in a variety of different ways, it either fits or not. It’s simple. “Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain’t somethin’ else. This is this.”
Setting up the gear is pretty much the same as packing the truck; everything has its proper place. A certain amount of power is needed to drive the system and all the pieces fit like an Escher tessellation. All is going as planned until some event planner or hot shot producer comes up and demands that they need to move all the gear from one end of the room to the other. “I need you guys to set up with the speakers behind the band. I need you to take up less space. I need, I need, I need…yada, yada, yada.” Hey, forget you and your needs. What about me Ms. or Mr. Producer, eh, what about me?
Never Ending
Unfortunately, it never ends. Once the gear is all set (again) some visiting engineer invariably demands, “I need to change the input list. I need more effects. I need more subs. I need a different console. I need, I need, I need.” But, of course, it’s not over yet, as the band who has been waiting — not so patiently — has finally taken the stage so that they too can express their needs. “Yo, Mr. Soundman, I need more vocal. I need more kick drum. Hey yo, we all need more kick drum. Hey, Mr. Soundman, more snare in the drum wedge.” Now the “I needs” are multiplied by five or six. When will all these desires be satisfied and what about me? I have needs too. I go home and my wife needs me, my kids need me, my dog needs me, my three cats all need me. Believe it or not, my two fish and turtle need me, and what do I get in return? I get stress, agitation, a twitch under my eye and a really bad rash. Do I actually need to haul my ass in to work just for a bad rash I can easily get at home? Who needs all these people and their needs? From now on, it’s just the equipment and me. “Stanley, see this? This is this. This ain’t somethin’ else. This is this.”
“I love the smell of solder in the morning.”
