The wedding was an adorable affair, so simple, fun, and refreshing--just like the bride herself. Then we got to the dancing. She hired a band, and even consulted me on them before signing the contract (she had heard my rant about wedding band must haves). I gave her my approval after she forwarded me their multi-paged document of all the songs they could cover--on paper it exceeded my highest standards for wedding dance party protocol.
As the band took the stage it became quite apparent they were skilled musicians, however they had some limitations in what the lead singer could do, and he readily admitted that. Good for him for not trying to sing outside of his range, but bad for the wedding dancer who really wanted to hear the songs outside of his range. What's a wedding dancer to do?
Join the band and sing the songs you want to hear.
Oh no, I didn't?Oh yes, I did. As Mr. McMichael as my witness (and co-conspirator) I hijacked that wedding party and brought the funk--not once, but three times.
After the first time, I went directly up to the bride and apologized for what I had started. I told her I had absolutely no intention of singing at her reception, it just all happened so fast, and the next thing I knew I was up on stage, and just when it hit me, somebody turned around and shouted, "Play that funky music, white girl." Thank god she is so good-natured and too laid back to have been upset. She just laughed it off.
And when I jumped up on stage to sing a little Gloria Gaynor, she came running up to the stage wagging her finger at me calling me out, "What are you doing? You had every intent of signing at my wedding!" I'm not sure how, but I survived.
Note to self: When life cracks the door for you, push that puppy open and jump in!
And as the night was winding down, Mr. McMichael requested some Journey (definitely my guiltiest musical pleasure), and when the lead singer said it was out of his range, that's when we began plotting. Our read on the band left us with the hunch that if we could get to the keyboardist, Journey would be played. We were right. With time left for only a few more songs, the leader put his hand to his brow and peered out into the crowd. Jokingly he asked, "are there any other budding musicians out there that want to come up and join us." Our cue! Mr. McMichael yelled directly at the keyboardist, "Play some Journey!" The band all chuckled, because seriously, 80s cheese? But the keyboardist played the first chord, and reflexively I set a land-speed record as I bolted to the stage. Bounding up the stairs I think the entire band was surprised that this wasn't a joke. What started out as a couple of bars played to appease a rowdy crowd (think of that guy at every concert you've ever been to who yells, "FREEBIRD!"), had turned into a melee of band members scrambling to keep up--and even learn the accompaniment as they went along.
In no time flat, the bride was up there with me, and we were bringing the Steve Perry like nobody's business. Mr. McMichael grabbed the candle centerpiece off of one of the tables and slowly swayed with it over his head, a few others followed his lead, and before we knew it, we had a legitimate rock anthem in the making.
I'm now strongly considering turning my wedding talents into a profit-making venture. And you'll notice below that I have moved to amend my initial wedding dancer stance on music providers with the bolded text:
"if you have a band, make sure that you love that band and—depending upon the type of dance party you want—that the band understands the importance of wedding reception mainstay (i.e., this band should be so fantastic that they can cover many types of music and songs from all eras… if it’s a wedding that I’m going to be at, make sure they are prepped to play plenty of 70s and 80s, or surrender the microphone and play back-up as I belt out the hits).
1 comment:
i SERIOUSLY hope there are pics out there somewhere
Post a Comment