I received my first bass guitar for Christmas in around 2001. From here I had the music bug, I wanted to play music, make music, and just surround myself with music. And I did. My bedroom walls were plastered with posters from music magazines like Kerrang, Metal Hammer, and Rock Sound. Much like any teenager, I aspired to be like the bands I idolised and before long, I’d joined my first band.
This was the beginning of what you could say is the curse I seem to bring to every band I touch.
The band was put together by my cousin who had started playing guitar about a month before we’d all got together. We only had one thing in common: Metallica, the only band we were all familiar with and we began playing cover songs. It was funny, four kids in a church hall, chugging out For Whom the Bell Tolls.
It was fun, but there was one frustration: my cousin. As much as we tried to chug along, our only other guitarist was carrying the weight, and as quickly as we got together as quickly the cracks began to show. I can’t remember the specifics, but we all decided to kick out my cousin in favour of a Megadeth-obsessed guitarist. He was a good guitarist, but it didn’t last long.
As it turns out, this band meant more to my cousin than he’d let on, and my nonchalantly kicking him out didn’t go down well. Yes, I’m an asshole. And this isn’t the first time I thought it would be okay to just cut someone out of a band.
From here I was part of several foundations of bands with friends from school that didn’t make it, one was a Metallica cover band with me on guitar. That didn’t go anywhere. Another hoped to be a bit more punk similar to early AFI – a band we decided to cover at our first rehearsal. The funny part of this story is that we hadn’t heard our friend sing before having him as the vocalist. We began playing the track and he opened his lungs with the deepest death metal growl we’d ever heard.
As it turns out, he was a screamer, not a singer, which didn’t necessarily work with this particular AFI song we decided to cover. Did we make adequate use of our time at the rehearsal room to try and make something original to suit his vocals? Nope. We just bummed around for an hour and never played music together again.
The Emo Phase
Fast forward a couple of years to around 2005 I came across an ad for a band that sounded perfect. I was big into my emo phase (a phase I’d learn would never end, even in my mid-thirties) and this band had all the right influences: Saosin, Chiodos, Taking Back Sunday. For the first rehearsal, I lugged my bass and amp on several busses to the guitarists’ house and we immediately hit it off.
This band lasted for a good couple of years, we played countless local shows – one was with a pretty big band in the local scene. We even recorded a short three-track EP but as with many things, those familiar cracks began to show. Though now I’m recalling what went down, it wasn’t that much of a big deal. We all felt that the vocalist didn’t care much for his voice and at times started to sound a bit rough – that was it.
Aside from playing bass in this band, I did backing screams. Because I thought I had the confidence to handle vocals, I suggested taking over lead vocals, throwing in a keyboard a-la Enter Shikari and Chiodos (even though I barely knew how to play), and getting a new bass player in.
Only problem? We did this behind the vocalist’s back. Much like my first band, this new lineup didn’t last long, at all. Everyone was too awkward to address the station with the vocalist and it all just imploded. As the bass player that we got to replace me was school friends with the rest of the band, I think they got back together with the vocalist with this new bassist in my place. I don’t blame them, to be honest.
My next foray into band life had me ditching the bass for vocals – apparently, the last band didn’t teach me any lessons. This band was an alternative metal, metalcore outfit that already had an established setlist. All I had to do was step into the shoes of the last vocalist and go from there. This went pretty well, we played a few shows and turned a few heads – that was until the drummer decided to leave.
I can’t recall the reason why, but I definitely got the vibe that he wasn’t a huge fan of this little emo kid coming in and shaking things up. Fortunately for us, he traded his drum kit for the bassist’s old bass amp, so we were able to continue writing while we searched for a new drummer. Unfortunately finding a replacement drummer was difficult. Not going to lie, I attempted to step up to the drum throne myself, but alas it didn’t work out. Although things ended relatively amicably, there was tension, and I still feel partially to blame for that one.
Maybe I’m Not The Problem?
Now, I wasn’t always the curse of bands. In around 2007 or 2008 I found myself answering an ad for an alternative indie band in the style of Death Cab for Cutie, it seemed like a good idea at the time. The band were adults and had decent heads on their shoulders, and seemed like it’d be without its dramas, right? This band did pretty well for itself, too. We’d practised routinely, had a decent EP recorded, and were well on the way to coming out of the gates swinging.
Naively I thought this could be the band I’d make it big in but as it turned out, their previous bass player (who I replaced) saw what he was missing out on and wanted back in. With him being best friends with the vocalist/guitarist it wasn’t long before I began to be “reprimanded” for missing the odd practice here and there and eventually being pushed out. Did they go on to big things? Nope. I believe they had one gig and that was it.
Jump to an attempt at starting a post-rock band and during the first meet I got so drunk I threw up and embarrassed myself. I joined a band that played funk-infused indie rock which didn’t gain any traction. There was another attempt at an emo band and an audition with an alt/indie outfit that absolutely loved me, but this didn’t work out because at the time I wasn’t able to drive. This band did end up making waves in the scene so much so that they got a sync placement on the UK soap, Hollyoaks. I guess they made the right decision there.
Following this I answered an ad for a progressive tech metal band whose drummer had an obsession with Periphery. Being a huge fan of SikTh I did jump at the chance of joining and it was one of the more technically challenging bands I’d been in. This band had legs, we played a few gigs and we were making the right kind of noise, the only thing we were missing was a vocalist. The guitarist, while technically sound and had a great voice, didn’t really want the pressure of doing both, which made sense. Plus, turns out he was moving away for college, so that kind of put a spanner in the works.
Now, the reason for this band falling apart was that I did the biggest faux pas when looking for bands to join: I was also playing music with someone else. This other band was pretty casual, it was just me on bass and a guitarist and the music we were making I could only describe as experimental alternative indie. It was fun, it was different, and it wasn’t overly serious. But it was a commitment.
Cut to the tech metal band’s drummer coming to us saying we had a gig at a local bar and he’d found a vocalist that was going to debut that day which happened to be the same day I was playing music with the other band. As the gig was small, I said I had other commitments and couldn’t make it. This was a mistake. Turns out the drummer’s dad had secured the gig for us and not playing it would reflect badly on him – which didn’t go down well and resulted in me receiving a torrent of abuse from the drummer. It’s safe to say I didn’t stay in touch and subsequently the band fell apart. Sadly so did the other band as university commitments came first, which is fair.
No, I’m Definitely the Problem…
For a while I swore off bands as it always seemed to end in drama. Of course, like someone addicted to crack, I didn’t swear off the stuff long. Cue another ad for a band that wanted to capture the sound of Funeral for a Friend and Fightstar, alternative emo vibes all around. It seemed decent, albeit a bit of a trek to the next city over. After three rehearsals, things went a little sour when began discussing recording and spending thousands on albums, EPs, and music videos. While I don’t disagree with the saying: “You’ve gotta spend money to make money”, in this instance, it just didn’t make sense. We’d never played a gig and had no social media presence, no one knew who we were as a band and I felt we’d be burning money – we weren’t even ready to play shows.
How do you think this story ended? You guessed it: Things got nasty in the group chat. I’ll admit upon reflection I was a little headstrong, it was early days after all. I still stand by what I said, but maybe I should have approached it differently.
I will say I got some vindication on this one. Around a year later I saw a post on their Facebook page forgot to unfollow stating that the band was breaking up after spending hundreds on a “mini-album” they’d had burned onto hundreds of CDs that only a few of their friends and family bought. They’d also put money into a music video that no one watched. Ultimately the band was frustrated with going nowhere and called it a day. Not to say it would have gone better if I were still in the band. But it kinda proved my point.
After placing my own ad, I was contacted by the vocalist of a budding metalcore band that was pretty set to go. They’d booked in a recording studio, had a music video in the works, and had high hopes to make it big. That was before I realised the majority of the material we were working on was the cobbled-together remains of several iterations of the band before it. Oh, and the lead guitarist lived around 140 miles away and we didn’t yet have a drummer. But, none of this was on my dime so I went with it.
Immediately I should have released that this was a bag of red flags – not only was this almost the identical attitude to the previous band, but we were heading into the studio despite never playing music in a room together on account of the guitarist being miles away. To no one’s surprise, the second guitarist struggled with some of the guitar parts and eventually, the lead guitarist took over.
This led to that guitarist being down as he thought he could do it and many conversations about whether we keep this guitarist in the band were had. Short story: we didn’t. This then lead to us searching for another guitarist, which was pretty easy as we had music recorded for them to check out.
With a music video scheduled for December, we had to try and learn the basics of the song to pass actually knowing how to play on camera. Oh, and we still had no drummer. “Lucky” for us, the vocalist had a drummer friend who manifested out of nowhere.
With an EP and video recorded, it’d make sense to rehearse the hell out of the songs we had so we can start gigging and promoting this music. But the vocalist had other ideas. We weren’t going anywhere without representation. They wanted to shell out even more money for PR and management, despite, at this point, we’d still never actually played music in a room together.
At this point in my daily life, I had a plethora of experience with PR and marketing as I dealt with all of this for a publication I used to write for. So I offered to do this in-house for our first EP, what’s the harm? We do a bit of outreach and if we get no bites, then we look into hiring someone.
I was met with a brick wall on this one, so to save another incident like the band before it, I just stepped out and called it quits. Can you guess the outcome of this one? Well, let’s just say the EP and music video never saw the light of day aside from the vocalist using it in ads for their next band.
To add, we did step foot in a room together to play music – once. We had a two-hour rehearsal room booked, but the first 45 minutes were wasted by the vocalist and drummer having to go get a cable to hook up their Macbook to the PA (which we never used). As it turns out the drummer didn’t really know how to play drums that well leading to the vocalist telling us we needed to learn the songs at home better…
Maybe This Time Will Be Different?
When the pandemic hit I kept contact with other people to a minimum due to my wife having a compromised immune system. This allowed me to explore other ways of making music and I dove head first into production which helped me grow as a musician as well as really reflect on how I handled previous situations. I also decided that if I were to do the “band thing” again, I’d make sure it was done right for me both musically and mentally.
So roll around 2024, I’m back looking for another band but with the idea of just going with the flow and not stirring up drama. I also wanted something ground-floor so I could be a part of it from the beginning and one that aligned with my music tastes, not just joining bands for the sake of joining a band.
My wife actually came across the ad, and it seemed perfect; back to emo, post-hardcore, and a little nu-metal thrown in. The vocalist already had a guitarist in mind, I was on bass, and we found a drummer and guitarist from the same ad. Things started well but soon enough the red flags started flying and boy did they fly. In the end, this band went in a really odd direction both musically and structurally, so after a few months I decided to cut and run before I got to in my head as well as in over my head. I also very quickly realised that, right now, I don’t think I’m ready to do the band thing.
Will I ever be ready? I’m always tempted, but past experiences have helped me see red flags before they even become a problem, which generally just turn me away before I even respond to a musicians wanted ad.
Cut to today. 2025. I’m doing the band thing, but it’s all me, creating the music I want to create at my own pace without any grand ideas of becoming famous, or pushing rehearsal three times a week, or planning to do a world tour after a month of being a band. I’m writing and having fun, working with some real rad people to flesh out songs I have written and to sound cliché there are some big things ahead…