Holding down the fort

I was thinking during band practice today when the directors had the low brass play our background rhythm for "Edge of Glory" (yes, the Gaga song). It's a bit weird to read, but once you figure it out, it grooves. I remembered when I was playing flute or piccolo, I would just tune out whenever the director worked with the low brass. After all, their parts were so boring.


But now, I love playing trombone. Rocking out on the baseline can be tons of fun, even if you'll never get the recognition that the hotshot trumpets do. Because they couldn't do it without you. And even if they don't realize it, you do. And hopefully so do your directors.

Some of my favorite songs to play are actually the slower ballads. Something about having the sustained notes underneath a melody, whether it's a soloist or a section, is really neat. I like to close my eyes and picture the sounds as wisps of color in the air, and see my sound rise up and support the melody, pushing it higher into the air. Often, the most musical parts can be found in the chords behind the melody. There was one particular measure in "Summon the Heroes," where, under the trumpet soloist, the first trombones held a whole note, the seconds and thirds had moving quarters, and the baritones had corresponding eighth notes. It was such a neat moment in the music that most people wouldn't notice consciously, but that's one of the beauties of music.

In sixth grade I sat there with my flute and wondered why anyone would ever want to play a non-melody instrument. Many years later and just a little bit wiser, I get now that some of the best parts aren't melody. I've been so jealous of horn counter-melodies on so many occasions. They really get the best "Hollywood lines," to quote my director. And some of the oom-pah tuba parts and walking basslines they get make me jealous. Music really only happens when everyone contributes, from the percussion to the bass lines to the chords, counter-melodies, melodies, harmonies, ostinatos... the list goes on. And that's what makes music truly beautiful.

I've often found that playing a piece well with a group can be a truly transcendental experience. I feel connected with the other players on a fundamental level in a way that I haven't found anywhere else. Music is a universal expression of the soul, and I feel that our shared humanity connects us as we create these sounds weaving in the air, carrying our dreams, our lives, our stories - for that is what we put into the music that we play.