Last night, I had a dream that I was playing again with my old band Analog Revolution. We got a gig at a local music festival, and I couldn't help but fall into the illusion that we'd play together forever. It's the childhood musician's dream, to find the perfect band mates and develop together through the rest of our lives, to become a well-oiled machine.
In this dream, I was running a bit late and missed the first half of our set. But I jumped on stage and had a great time playing the songs again. After the set, we broke down our equipment and hauled it to our van, but I realized I lost some of my guitar cables. By the time I found them, however, the rest of the band had scattered, and the band van (which I had to drive) had turned into cardboard. Then that cardboard started to buckle. Then I woke up.
This means something, obviously, but I have other things on my mind. Tonight's the last practice of version 3.0 of my band. Friday is the last gig. Then I have to try and find yet another backing band. I think I have something set up, but only for 2-3 gigs a year...and more permanence would be nice.
My wife last night complimented my on how well I've been taking this ending. Frankly, though, I have a lot of practice. After Analog's drummer moved away, Black Swamp Rats lost a rhythm section via Facebook, and then the band itself broke up again via Facebook. My next band, Magnosaurus, also broke up via Facebook. And my solo band has already gone through several incarnations. So I'm kinda used to it.
When I finally got it through my thick head that any band would break up, I learned self-sufficiency. Now, no matter what happens, I'm prepared and can carry on. But, if I'm honest, I miss the illusion of that lifelong band. It would be nice to have permanence as something other than a dream. Still, I must soldier on.
This post, by the way, is both a description of my musical career and a metaphor for life.