In 1993, I knew exactly two people in New York. My cousin and a friend from high school. Neither of them were musicians. I had my drums, my business degree from Howard University, and enough nerve to figure it out as I went.
What I didn’t have was a plan. What I had instead was a Friday night gig at the Ramada Inn in New Rochelle.
Once a month. Twenty people in the room, most of them friends of the bandleader. We played dance music, ABBA, whatever was on the radio. It wasn’t glamorous. Nobody was getting discovered at the Ramada Inn in New Rochelle. I knew that. I showed up anyway.
The guitar player in that band was a guy named Matt Beck. He was/is a GREAT musician. He was doing some sub work on Broadway at the time, but back then he was just the guy I played “Dancing Queen” with while people did the electric slide.
I wasn’t networking. I wasn’t positioning myself. I was showing up, playing well, and being someone people didn’t mind being around.
Then one night on a break, Matt asked if I’d be interested in Footloose — a production heading to Las Vegas and then eleven months on the road. I said yes. Ten months later, Matt called again with tick, tick...BOOM! Jeff Potter, the drummer holding the chair on Rent, heard I’d been doing it and brought me in to sub. Rent led to Little Shop. Little Shop led to The Color Purple. The Color Purple led to Altar Boyz. Altar Boyz led to Memphis: The Musical, my first Broadway chair.
The whole chain traces back to a hotel ballroom in Westchester County.
I wasn’t the most impressive drummer in New York in 1993. Not even close. But I was consistent. I was easy to be around. And I kept showing up in rooms where better players were — not to impress them, but to learn and to be known.
I wrote about this same idea from another angle in We’re All in a Relationship. The Question Is Which Kind. The short version: this business isn’t a meritocracy. It’s a trust economy. Matt didn’t call just because I was talented. He called because he knew me. That’s a relationship, built one unglamorous Friday night at a time. If you haven’t read that piece, read it after this one. The two belong together.
And here’s something I’ve realized a lot of you don’t know. Look at the top of this site. There’s a whole banner up there — Notes, Chat, The Callboard, Real-World Training, Podcast Episodes, Videos, Shorts, Resources, Broadway Bound And Beyond, About. Every one of those tabs is full of material most readers never see, because they only read whatever lands in their inbox.
The tab I want to point you to today is Real-World Training. It’s where I write pieces exactly like this one — the material nobody teaches in school. A few of what’s already in there:
Why Some Musicians Keep Getting Called Back — it has nothing to do with chops and everything to do with how you show up.
Always Play With People Better Than You — the real mentorship in music never came with a curriculum. It came with trial by fire.
Make It Plain — every note you play is a choice. What are yours saying?
What If Your Dream Gig Isn’t on Broadway? — there are roughly 20 drum chairs on Broadway at any given time. Here’s how to build a career around that math.
So, You Got a Call to Do a Broadway Musical Workshop. Now What? — inside the room, what to expect, and how the money works.
Picasso’s Napkin: Why Your Years of Experience Are Worth Paying For — knowing your rate, knowing when to walk, and why “it only took a minute” is never the whole story.
10 Real-World Lessons Every Working Musician Should Know — the skills, habits, and mindsets that turn gigs into careers.
You Paid Into It. Now Learn How to Use It. — what I wrote for Local 802’s Allegro about the benefits too many musicians leave on the table.
Some of these are free. Some are for paid subscribers, because that’s where the deepest material lives. Either way, go explore the tab: Real-World Training.
Your Ramada Inn is out there right now. It doesn’t look like an opportunity. It never does.
Broadway Bound and Beyond is available now at broadwayboundbook.com.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.