At the end of this week I’ll be embarking on my band’s International World Tour. Needless to say, I can hardly believe it’s already time for takeoff. But before I go, I obviously want to brag – I mean blog – about how exactly I ended up in a band, despite my lack of musical abilities.
Let’s rewind the tape back to April.
Two work friends and myself came up with this pipe dream where we would enter our company’s talent competition so we could win a free trip to our parent company in the United Kingdom. The reason it seemed realistic was that no one else was competing, but the reason it seemed unrealistic was that only one of us could do anything musical whatsoever. We didn’t let that stop us, though.
We brainstormed what act we could do that would win us the golden ticket. Some of them included '90's boy band, rapping, ribbon dancing and the Cups song. Since the only realistic one in that list was the Cups song, we spent one night learning how to cup.
Then we decided that wasn't show-stopping enough. We talked about our aspirations with our HR department, and she told us that she actually hired some guys from local bands. So obviously, they were in, even though they didn't know it yet. During their first week on the job, we approached them both and creeped on them until they agreed. It was very “Making the Band,” minus any tryouts, P. Diddy, tears or drama.
We were talking about what songs we could manipulate to make the lyrics applicable to our company, and within a few minutes our new guitarist picked out, “Don’t Stop Believing.” We were all hooked immediately and committed. We even signed a legally binding contract, which was scribbled on the back of my notebook.
I then self-assigned rewriting the lyrics so that way I could prove I was worth having in the band. Our guitarist told me we needed a bassist and that it’s super easy to learn, so I also jumped on that position and called it as my own. The other non-musically inclined in our band did panic a bit, since I now claimed the bassist position, but we promised her a nice cowbell to ring. Turns out she would eventually become our lead singer, so I really dodged a bullet with the bass.
In the interim of our band formation and our first practice, I wrote our song, “Don’t Stop Comparing,” our drummer named our band Customer Journey, and we solidified a practice space and time. And we were ready to rock out.
When I showed up to band practice on my first day, I honestly was a bit nervous. I didn’t know the band that well and I didn’t want to embarrass myself with how bad my bass playing was about to be. Thankfully, we had some pizza, wine and beer to take the edge off. Within minutes, I had a bass guitar strapped to my chest, and I was feeling like a total badass.
I, however, did not play like a badass.
I had zero idea what I was doing, I didn’t know if I was plugged in, and I couldn’t even follow the basic directions of which strings to touch and where to put my hands.
That first band practice was pretty horrid, but over time it got downright impressive. I had a few lessons with a local bassist, practiced nothing by “Don’t Stop Comparing” on my bass almost every other evening, and just like that, we were winning our local talent show to win the trip to the UK.
Our pipe dream had paid off, and our trip was secured. Now it’s time for takeoff to take over the world as we corner the market in auto insurance comparison rock bands.