Trampled by Teamwork

I think we can all learn something from folk music.

I just got home from seeing the band Trampled by Turtles pour themselves into live music at the Vic. I laughed a little bit when the five band members took the stage. The banjo player, violinist, and mandolinist all looked like they had just left their day jobs at Bass Pro Shop. They each had enough facial hair to keep them warm in the winter and I wouldn't be surprised if the shoes they were wearing were their only pairs. The bass player could have easily been the violinist's son, although he lacked the same abundance of facial hair. So, when I saw the lead vocalist and guitarist walk out with a nicely trimmed layer of scruff and a collared shirt, I assumed he would steal the show. I expected a single spotlight or a slew of guitar solos or vocal riffs. I expected the other 4 to absent-mindedly keep rhythmic support, to play chords just to move on to the next one. I expected each member to play his own instrument with mastery, 5 well-accomplished but independent musicians.

But, the show wasn't about the banjo player. Or the violinist. Or the mandolinist. Or the bass player. Not even the lead guitarist. This show wasn't about 4 or 5 or 6 stringed instruments. This show wasn't even about 5 voices.

This show was about 27 strings working together. Sure, each of these musicians was exceedingly talented, but none more so than the sum of their parts. This show was about 27 strings knowing and trusting one another, feeling where the group was moving and helping to move it along. This show was about sets of 4 or 5 or 6 strings pouring themselves into what they know and hoping that the result will benefit the rest of the 27. This show was about strumming each string loudly and with variety, but never so much so that it might overshadow another. This show was about 23 strings having the other 4's back when they felt compelled to take the lead, to solo. This show was about 27 independent strings, all being strummed into one beautiful sound. 27 strings trading in their own spotlight for a backlight that spreads evenly across the stage.

Folk music is selfless. And although I may still be stuck in the greed of rock or pop, I can rest easy knowing that selflessness exists.