Letting Go Doesn't Hurt. Holding On Does.

About 10 years ago, Armando and I put together a band called "regular JOE 2.0. Armando and I had been together for years, and we trusted one another.


Still, with Rick (drums) and Adrian (lead guitar), who were new to us, we struggled musically, we struggled to find our audience and we struggled to find our chops. But once we got there, we did pretty well. As is typical with cover bands, eventually everyone got bored and wanted to move on. Adrian (God bless him) decided to do more challenging music and told us his days were numbered.


Still, I wanted to start doing original music, and I figured the chance to work these songs into our sets would've been fun. But the opportunity was gone. While I was sad that our band days were over, I was glad everyone moved forward with their lives. As they say, it was fun while it lasted. But let me tell you something most people don't know.


During a practice session, Adrian told me I was playing the wrong chord on a particular song. I challenged him back and said I didn't hear the chord the same way. He insisted. And I got angry. When he asked if we still had a band at that point, it dawned on me he was right. I was a control freak. I had to let go. I had to learn how to trust Adrian. From that point on, I did.


Armando stepped in and asked him if he would take over our music. From there, Adrian was our music director. He did an incredible job.


What Adrian taught me was to trust his judgement. As part of our team, I owed it to him to listen up to get things right. It takes a team to make a band work, not ego. In fact, ego is the enemy. Everyone on the team makes valuable contributions even if the audience doesn't see it directly. In this case, the audience never knew what Adrian did behind the scenes, they only saw how well he played.


As I mentioned on my last blog, everything sucked for me for a few years after the band died. My vocals, musicianship and motivation fell flat. I auditioned for bands in Albuquerque, but lost interest in them. The truth was, I was in a depression. Music wasn't fun anymore. Holding on to regular JOE 2.0 hurt.


I had to let it go. I turned inward, and started writing more seriously. I didn't want to be in a band anymore. I didn't want to tour. I wanted to create my own art. I had to move on.