The Perils of Sounding Too Good
A trip to Nashville made me rethink what the purpose of live music is.
I went on a circuitous trip last week that was supposed to end in Nashville. I say it was supposed to end in Nashville because every flight from Nashville to the New York City area was canceled for days, so we had to rent cars and drive 10 hours to Washington, D.C. in order to catch the train. Before that mayhem, we heard plenty of live country in Music City. Many of those aspiring country artists left an impression on me. But an offhand comment from my sister left an even deeper impression: “He sounds exactly like Eric Church”.
She was talking about an artist we’d seen perform in one of the various dives. And she was right. This guy sounded exactly like country superstar Eric Church. Though she meant this as a compliment - she was implying that he sounded like a professional - I actually thought the implications were a bit less certain.
You Don’t Have to Sound Like the Recording
Vaughn Meader was a building a great career. The musician and comedian realized that he could do an uncanny impression of then-president John F. Kennedy. So, in late-1962 he recorded a parody album of the dashing politician for Cadence Records called The First Family.
The album was a massive success. It sold millions of copies and remained atop Billboard’s album chart for months. It also made Meader a celebrity. He was featured on numerous television programs and written about in Time and Life magazines, respectively. This will sound made up, but The First Family also bested albums by Tony Bennett and Ray Charles for Album of the Year at the 1963 Grammy’s.
While Meader was busy recording a follow-up of non-Kennedy material, the president was assassinated. Within a week, the New York Times reported that Meader was dropping the impression and his label was removing The First Family from circulation. Kennedy impressions were no longer fashionable. And neither was Vaughn Meader. His career never recovered.
I was thinking about Mr. Meader when my sister remarked that the country artist we were listening to sounded exactly like Eric Church. Again, my sister meant this as a compliment. She meant that this rising artist sounded on par with a professional. And he did. But the story of Vaughn Meader illustrates how sounding like a particular person can be a short-term asset but a long-term encumbrance. Though Eric Church is popular now, his sound will one day go out of style. If you sound exactly like him, you’ll regret it when fashions change.
So, what should you do instead? How should you play Eric Church’s music without sounding like Eric Church? You have to make it your own. You have to leave your mark. Easier said than done, but if you do, I’ll want to go listen to your music. If you don’t, I’ll just put on Mr. Church’s recordings.
But I don’t think this only applies to upstart musicians. I think it applies to people of Eric Church’s stature too. Ultimately, every artist is a cover artist when the play live. Of course, when you reach a certain stage of your career, you are just “covering” your own songs. But perfectly recreating your own recordings can have unexpected effects.
You’ve probably been at a good concert and had your buddy to turn to you and say, “Wow, they sound exactly like the record!” While many nameless artists on the streets of Nashville are trying to recreate Eric Church’s recording, Eric Church is trying to do the same thing. One day, though, he’ll struggle to do it. Maybe his voice will have changed. Maybe his fingers won’t work the same. Maybe he won’t be interested in those old songs. If that’s the case, Eric Church will become bad at performing his own music.
Artists that manage to capture people’s attention for decades often do so by convincing their audience that their songs, unlike their recordings, are not fixed objects. They can change overtime. That’s the reason that Bob Dylan can change the lyrics to “Simple Twist of Fate” repeatedly and have his fans hold onto every last word. It’s the reason why people have spent countless hours cataloguing every song Phish has ever performed on stage. It’s the reason why people gushed over Joni Mitchell singing “Both Sides Now” in wildly different range than it was originally recorded.
If you go out each night trying to recreate the magic of the studio, you end up convincing your audience that there’s only one way things can sound. You end up convincing them to trust you to only do one thing. Whether you’re a young songwriter playing covers or a seasoned veteran building a legacy, that ends up being a problem if you want to change. And one day you will. People, like songs, are dynamic.
A New One
"Good as Gospel" by Bear Redell
2023 - Country Ballad
Bear Redell was the most compelling young artist that I saw during my weekend stay in Nashville. The first thing that grabbed me was his voice. It was powerful but tender. In fact, he mixed those two feelings in such a way that I felt the need to seek out his original music. That’s when I was doubly impressed. He had a few good songs.
“Good as Gospel”, released in early May, is a somber ballad that wants to drift into lyrical cliches. But each time it’s about to get too saccharine, Redell pulls it back with a detail just specific enough to make it personal. By towing this (dangerous) line, he’s able to hold your attention for nearly four minutes.
An Old One
"But Anyway" by Blues Traveler
1990 - Blues Funk
Before ending up in Nashville, I was briefly in Denver. Naturally, I had to see a show at Red Rocks, the famous amphitheater built into the million-year-old rock 10 miles outside and 1000 feet above the Mile High City. So, I grabbed tickets to whoever was playing while I was there. In this case, it was Blues Traveler.
This concert was apocalyptic. And I’m not talking about this music. There was lighting, rain, and two bouts of hail, the second of which forced the show to end early. But before we ran for cover, we got to see the 90s’ rockers bust through a fiery version of “But Anyway”. I am by no means a huge Blues Traveler fan, but hearing John Popper - the group’s frontman - play the harmonica live is mind-melting, especially on this funky jam. It’s what I imagine it was like to watch Eddie Van Halen play the guitar live.
Want some non-musical writing from me? I wrote a piece for Business Insider about measuring nepotism in politics using data from Wikipedia.
Want to hear the music I make? Check out my latest EP, You Know I Can Be Dramatic.
An impressive and enjoyable piece of writing, Chris! From an offhand comment by your sister to a well-devised and -conceived linear construction about a dilemma few had considered (I know I never had)!
I DO know I've not heard Vaughn Meader's name in what has to be decades, and I'm willing to wager I'm one of the very few (if any!) of your readers who was alive when he was at his zenith (I was 7 in '62). I recall him on some variety shows, and I'm sure "The Ed Sullivan Show" was one.
I remember vividly his album (and possibly his March '63 follow-up), as it was one of my dad's 20,000 LPs, and I not only overheard him playing it at times, but I recall it being a de rigueur record to pull out during my folks' dinner parties and pinochle game nights with friends!
I'm hoping our 'Stack friends will take a cue from you about inspiration (and a listening ear!) turning into glowing content!
I have a copy of Meader's record; 10-20 years ago it was in dollar bins and garage sales everywhere. Common as dirt.
But what you're saying here is very important, and why I so vehemently oppose the idea of live musicians using "backing tracks" to make their songs sound like the record, even on their own music.
Live is, and should be, a distinct and separate experience from being at home with the headphones on. Each has its value; but those values are different. Trying to make one exactly like the other is a disservice to yourself and your listeners. They don't pay to see you doing karaoke.