autographs: ed shaughnessy

the other night i found myself talking about my small collection of autographs and thought it would be a nice little series to blog about.

i've never really been an autograph-seeker, partly out of shyness and partly out of respect for the celebrity's privacy. however, when i happen to find myself face-to-face with a notable person, i usually ask for their signature during the course of our conversation. i just don't really go out of my way for an autograph, waiting in a long line for little more than "make it out to christa, please". that seems kind of weird and rude to me.

this man is ed shaughnessy... a name that not everyone knows, so apologies if this first installment in my autograph series doesn't bowl you over.

ed shaughnessy was the drummer in the tonight show band for something like 30 years (many of those years under doc severinson). he also drummed for duke ellington, benny goodman, count basie, jack teagarden, billie holiday, charles mingus... god, the list goes on and on. here's a "drum battle" between ed & buddy rich.

when i was in high school my band director convinced me to play the bass in the jazz band. i was already a good classical french horn player, and i guess she was trying to help me branch out a little. more likely she was just desperate for a bassist. so i took a casual lesson or two from the jazz band's guitarist (who enjoyed playing KISS more than jazz), learned where to push my fingers down on the strings, and began fumbling my way through rehearsals. when the director programmed a difficult number, i would ask if i could play the bass line on the little roland organ instead of the bass; sometimes she would agree (she was THAT desparate for a bass line) and sometimes she would urge me to just figure it out on the bass.

the worst thing about reharsals --and everyone in the band would agree with this-- was when the director made us improvise solos. we were all terrified of that... adolescent, inexperienced musicians who never wanted to take a chance and risk embarrassment. we were all happier playing in unison. luckily there isn't much call for that kind of improvisation on the bass; the closest i came was having to improvise a "walk" during the few charts that didn't have the bass line written out. (those numbers would simply have the chord changes printed, and i'd improvise the bass line that supported the rest of the ensemble. it was difficult... i always preferred having the specific notes written out for me. that's the way it was when i played french horn!)

our director pushed us hard. we had one of the best high school jazz ensembles in the state, and we also hosted a big jazz festival every spring which drew relatively big-name talent to the area to perform in the final concert. this celebrity would perform with our band after the closing ceremony. the year i picked up the bass, ed shaughnessy was the celebrity performing with our band.

we had one rehearsal with him before the concert and he was NUTS. full of energy, tons of words spilling out of his mouth... yammering about african drum beats and all kinds of things that were foreign to us. he was extremely magnetic, but we were all slightly terrified of his non-stop excitement for music. during that rehearsal he encouraged us ALL to take solos. i thought --being the bass player-- i was safe. but i was wrong.

during rehearsal of a song called "mr. c's boogie" ed turned to me and shouted, "8 bars! go!!" i panicked!! i didn't know what to do. my fingers froze. i fumbled through something ridiculous, and he stopped the band to poke gentle fun at me. i remember my face turning red, my eyes welling up with tears. even though it wasn't his intent, he could see he'd hurt my feelings and he apologized for it afterwards. he didn't know i was so new to the bass. he hugged me and i felt a little better.

when the piece came up during the concert i thought i'd be off the hook. ed knew i couldn't pull it off. he knew i didn't have any experience. besides, the auditorium was PACKED with people... there's no way. no way he'd ask me to do that again. still, my heart was racing.

please don't call on me, please don't call on me, please don't call on me.

he shouted during the piece for the saxophone player to take a solo. next, the trombone.

please don't call on me, please don't call on me, please don't call on me.

now he took a solo himself. then the trumpet player. everyone was getting through it pretty well. as relief washed over all of us we started to really enjoy the groove.

then he yelled out, "bass solo! go!!" my heart stopped.

i own a tape of the concert, so i know i actually played something: a slightly funky "walking" bass line. but honestly, the most vivid memory i have are the tortured thoughts echoing through my head:

breathe, dammit. think. THINK! shit, that was a wrong note. keep going. ok, that's 6 bars. 7 bars. 8 bars! maybe a couple of clunkers, but you did it!!

i got through 8 bars!! i couldn't believe it! a huge wave of relief washed over me. i even heard a couple of shouts of appreciation from the audience as i was finishing.

then ed yelled "one more!! take another 8!!"

geah!! i gave everything i had on the first 8!!!

i slapped the bass a little. ouch... feedback. my luck was running out... things were going downhill fast. maybe more walking might help... on down to the lowest notes possible. oops, buzzing strings. not good. humiliation setting in... i'm going to faint... ugh, a terrible last note...

finally my solo was over. ed looked over at me and smiled. i felt disconnected from my body.

thankfully the piece ended shortly after my solo and i forced myself to sit, breathe deeply and recover. the director acknowledged the soloists by name, and the audience applauded for each of us. then ed did something i'll never forget. he stood up from his drum set, microphone in hand and said, "i would like a special recognition for this young lady on the bass... chris has never played a public solo before! how 'bout the BASS!! yeah!!!"

and everyone applauded. loudly. with that extra bit of support ed turned that wholly terrifying event --something that would have lived forever in my mind as a terrible experience-- into one of the proudest moments in my life. i smiled at him and about cried.

the happy photo and autograph happened right after the concert.

Posted by xta at April 13, 2005 01:27 PM | TrackBack