Paradise... The Band

I miss the feeling of drumming in a band. On the occasion of this past long weekend, our beachfront hotel hired a septet to create a poolside party for all of us appletini-sipping vacationers.

The ensemble, a local cover band, called themselves Paradise, which is perhaps the most garrish, trashy, chintzy excuse for a band name that has ever tickled my eardrum. Be that as it may, the musicians were true professionals who knew how to cover fun hits and create the right vibe for a bunch of tipsy tourists.

Here's the rub: they were all fantastic musicians. Clearly each member of the cover band was constraining their musical chops in favor of catering to the beach crowd, but they were able to bring lively new arrangement ideas to old classics. Each recognizable tune was treated with a fresh array of rhythm and texture, and the soloists were nothing short of phenomenal.

As I sat in my padded blue chaise trying to doze and enjoy the sounds of the surf, all I could think about was the skills of the hired musicians, and of course I was concurrently wishing that I was alongside, knocking away on the drums.

There is something marvelous about musicians creating together in a live setting. The synergy of the seven was vibrant and magical, and I can not stop daydreaming about the group's chemistry since the weekend concluded.

I sincerely hope that someday I will connect with a band of brothers and sisters who will enjoy this type of musical relationship. Until then, I keep playing the music over and over in my head. This is one of the many reasons I cherish the Redline Project: through this yearlong effort, I am finally able to express the music in my soul, even if it is not much of a group effort.