This is a tale of politics, lies, spin, deception, disloyalty, and selfish ambition. This is the tale of a church band. Sure, wherever you have any organized group of people you will have these things, but what makes this story all the more entertaining is that it occurred in the context of a church which considered itself as being the One, True Church. This church had “come out from among them” to be that light on the hill, to be “holy and separate,” to be the remnant that truly seeks God. All other church groups were living a lie, having been deceived by Satan through corrupt doctrine, the “teachings of men.” No, seriously. (In fairness, from what I have been able to gather since leaving the church, it is a stance the church has since renounced. But at the time of this story, that is where we were living.)
The ordinary members of this church would never have fathomed that any projects undertaken by “the body of Christ” could be full of corruption, or be just as worldly as any project undertaken by other “church” groups or even non-religious groups.
The church had an arts ministry, and if anyone knew just how corrupt the world could be, it was the artists who were turning their backs on it to follow Jesus. We took a special pride in conducting our music ministry in a way that (presumably) glorified God, not ourselves.
And so, around 1990, a group of Christ-like musicians came together within this church to form the core of a band which would rehearse and perform together on an almost weekly basis for about the next ten years. There was Ralph, who played Keyboard 1 and led the band. Rick played Lead Guitar. Then there was Paul, who played Keyboard II. Steve played Rhythm Guitar, Jim was on Drums, and I played Bass.
All of us in the band had good senses of humor, and we were all very capable musicians. Almost all of us were gigging around town on a regular basis as freelancers. Rehearsals were generally a blast. We would work hard, but have a lot of fun doing it. We would often laugh at comments or funny situations during rehearsals until it hurt.
Because our church was so big, we had the good fortune to play fun venues like the Medinah Temple, the Arie Crown Theater, and the UIC Pavilion. Occasionally, we were asked to travel out of state to play for other churches, and road trips were always fun.
Through the years, we would hear CDs that were being put out by ministries in our sister churches or hear one of these groups live. We were always surprised to hear how amateur these groups sounded, and it began to dawn on us how good we actually were. Looking back, I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised six working musicians that they sounded like a professional band. But we had been trained to be humble, so none of us were supposed to notice whether or not we were good – we were just being good servants, only doing our duty.
As we became more and more exposed to these mediocre CDs that were being produced in the "kingdom of God," our musical pride (and pride in our Chicago ministry) was stoked. We began talking about the CD that we should produce. We talked and we talked. For a good four or five years, we talked. Nothing happened.
And then, Matt blew into town. Matt was taking over our ministry, and Matt was a “can do” kind of guy. Suddenly, “the Band CD” became a top priority. Matt gave Ralph a paid position to put everything for the CD – the music and the musicians – together.
Ralph was a great band leader musically speaking, but his major flaw was in showing favoritism to Rick (the lead guitarist), and treating the rest of us, whom I call “the Four,” as mere working-class musicians. Ralph wanted to be a star, and he wanted Rick to be a star with him. His greatest ambition for the rest of us was that we would be “also rans.” This would have a major bearing on how the Band CD turned out.
One night after Matt addresses the band at a rehearsal and prophecies the coming of the Band CD of which we have all been dreaming, the Band is fired up. We look to Ralph to set the wheels in motion.
Weeks go by, and we working-class guys in the band are aware that Ralph and Rick have been very busy in the studio putting the first song together. Some of us ask when we’ll be needed in the studio. “Pretty soon, bro!”
At a midweek service, Matt gets up and proudly announces that “the first song of the CD is finished!” The crowd goes wild. He blasts it over the sound system. It was Ralph and Rick and some vocalists. As the applause erupts at the end of the song, we Four clap along and look at each other from various places in the fellowship. We each wear a little half-smile, as if to say to those who are patting us on the back, “Aw, shucks. It was nothin’. Really.”
A couple more weeks go by; another song finished; same personnel. “Well, surely they’ll start using us for the remaining material,” the Four of us think.
Another song. Another song. No one of us Four wants to look selfishly ambitious, so we ask about our prospective roles on the CD in only the humblest of ways so as not to look as if we care (at least, that was my approach).
Eventually, Paul is heard on some track doing some insignificant string line, and Steve visits the studio to lay down some rhythm guitar. But so far, after several songs and months of production, there isn’t any one track that could truthfully be said to represent the Band.
Knowing that production is nearing an end and that this is not the CD we had been dreaming of for years, I let my frustrations leak out through my wife (as any insecure man would do).
One evening at a big Sunday service at the Medinah Temple, Ralph approaches me and asks me to step out into the hallway for a minute to talk.
“Your wife tells me you’re not very happy with the CD. What’s up?” Ralph seems defensive.
“Well, it strikes me as odd that what we’ve been calling ‘the Band CD’ isn’t really ‘the Band CD.’ It’s you and Rick and some vocalists, and I hear that our new brother, Justin, might lay down some rhythm guitar.”
“You know, I’m really getting tired of everyone coming to me or Matt or Rick and saying, ‘When can I play on the CD?’ Justin might get to participate because he is a servant – he’s always at the studio offering to help with whatever, he brings in lunches, he’s encouraging. Everyone else just has this attitude of, ‘Well, why aren’t you using me?’”
“I’m talking about Paul, Steve, Jim, and myself. I’m talking about the Band.”
“Well, bro, we can’t keep discussing this here. But this conversation is not over.”
About a week later, the Four are told in excited tones that they are needed in the studio to flesh out a tune that Rick was writing for the CD! (Interesting to note that we working-class types were being used for Rick's tune, not any of Ralph's. By this point, Ralph already had a history of showing reluctance to put any of his originals, which he produced by himself on his keyboards, into our hands. But after we would rehearse his material, he never failed to say, “Man, I don’t know why I hesitated to do this tune live with you guys. It sounds better than my original!” He ended up saying that to us every time we did one of his tunes live, and he meant it. And the next time the situation would arise, he was still hesitant. He never trusted us.)
So, I get to the studio just as Jim is finishing up. He had done Rick's tune, and Ralph had relegated his long-time drummer to a few cymbal rolls and crashes. I take my string bass into the studio and listen to Rick's tune for the first time. As I am learning it, Rick and Ralph are suggesting this bass line and that bass line. After we finish a couple of takes that I feel are completely inadequate, they have me do some deep pedal tones and special effects with my bow which they want to include in the CD’s ethereal Prelude.
I leave the recording booth, and even as I am packing up out in the hallway, I begin to regret coming in. I get this sudden, unmistakable feeling that we Four are being patronized; we’re being taken for a ride.
Sure enough, a few days later, a strange tale from the studio. We Four are told by Ralph himself that, as he and Rick were working late one night, Ralph “accidentally hit a button” and erased most of what we had laid down for Rick's tune. So, it will just have to be Ralph's keyboard work and Rick's guitar on that tune, plus some very minor contributions by Paul and Jim. We can't go back in and record again because we are running out of time.
“Running out of time” became the main stonewalling technique as the last few tunes were being produced – a CD we talked about literally for years, and suddenly we have to race toward a deadline.
I came to find out much later that the digital machine on which Ralph recorded us operates in such a way that you can't “accidentally” erase anything. To erase anything on that machine requires very deliberate steps; you have to try.
My heart truly sank as it dawned on me what had taken place over the last year of production: Ralph, Rick, and Matt get together to discuss the elusive “Band CD.” Matt hands Ralph the keys and says, “Get going!” Ralph and Rick stay up late night after night in the studio – they’re having a great time, and they like what they hear as they record their ideas. Pretty soon a tune is finished. They polish it and add vocals. It sounds great. “Hmmm, do we really need to bring the other guys in and redo it live? Let’s just leave it; we’ll bring them in on something else.” (No trust.) Now they’re on a roll, and this pattern will repeat itself over and over. (No loyalty.)
“But there is the matter of ‘the Band CD.’ Let’s bring them in to add some color here and there. Oh, not enough. They’re noticing that it’s still not ‘the Band.’ Let’s bring them in on Rick's tune. Hmmm. It’s a bit rough. Instead of really rehearsing the tune as a band like we do for everything else, let’s just scrap it and keep doing things our way. ‘It was an accident, and we’re running out of time.’ The main thing is that each of the Four are heard doing something on the CD, even if it’s the tiniest, insignificant lick, so that we can list their names in the credits and try to hide the fact that this CD is the Ralph and Rick Show.”
I’ll never forget the night I got to feel the full measure of Ralph’s disregard for me as a musician. We went out to a club to hear a bassist who had formerly been with the church, and during one of the breaks Ralph dragged Wally (the bassist) out to his van to hear the beginnings of “the Band CD.”
As we’re sitting in the van listening to one of the tunes (I'm alone in the back seat), Wally asks: “Is that a keyboard bass, or live?”
“Uh, keyboard,” said Ralph, after a slight hesitation. His face suddenly falls as he anticipates the next obvious question, but the panic in his eyes isn't enough to keep Wally from asking:
“Why don’t you use live bass?” as he nods his head back toward me.
Ralph knew he couldn't say a word without revealing his musical arrogance; all he could do was throw Wally “the look.” Wally, not wanting to call attention to the silence and cause me or Ralph possible embarrassment, replied to the look with a quiet, “Mm,” and they began discussing other production topics. Sitting in the back seat, I just pretended to be listening to the music, and took a little pride in my humble state of mind which said, “This is God’s CD, and God has chosen Ralph to put it together. I trust that whatever Ralph has me do for this CD is just what God would want me to do. God is in control.”
God, was I pathetic. If I’d had then the measure of self-confidence I possess now, Wally never would have had the chance to say, “Mm,” because my question would have followed right on his heels:
“Yeah, Ralph, why don’t you use live bass? I’m a bass player, you know. I’ve played professionally from coast to coast, in Europe, and have been playing in and around Chicago for fifteen years; I also happen to have been your bass player in the church band for the last ten. This song you’re playing for Wally is a cake walk – I could play it in my sleep better than you played it on your keyboard. So, what’s up, Ralph? Is the only child having a hard time sharing again? Jesus calls that being selfish. You know, Jesus is an only child, too, and he is anything but selfish. So, when will you include the Band on the Band CD, Ralph?”
And how much further I’d have taken our conversation in the Medinah hallway:
“Bro! Are you saying that the band members who have served you and the church for years have to come to the studio bearing gifts of pizza and nachos to play on the BAND CD?! Are you out of your mind? Should we even have to ASK?!!”
One night not long before Matt blew into town, the band was rehearsing, and during a lull I reiterated that we really should record what we have. “You guys know that things are constantly changing in the church. The six of us have been together for years and have been the backbone of just about everything that has happened musically in this ministry. How much longer do you think this is going to last? One of us might move or transfer out of the arts ministry, Paul will probably fall away [laughter], and who knows what else might come up? We need to record our CD soon!” General agreement.
There we were, six musicians who had been working together for years and years. I really wanted for myself and all the others to be able to enjoy what we had long after the band had broken up, which it inevitably did (actually, I was the one who ended up leaving the church). But after all the hard work, after years of rehearsals and performances, after all the talking and dreaming, we were left with a sham: the Ralph and Rick Show. Perhaps the greatest irony of the whole affair was the title of the CD, taken from Romans 15:5-6, which is a plea for unity among Christians. What a joke.
So, how did the credits turn out? Aside from the vocalists and other miscellany, here's what the Band did on the seven tracks of the long awaited Band CD:
Ralph: all keyboards, bass, drum programming
Rick: all acoustic and electric guitars
Paul: additional synthesizer on 6
Steve: additional acoustic guitar on 7
Jim: hi-hat, cymbals on 7
Me: acoustic bass on 1
Is it not laughably obvious? Take away the itty bitty contributions of the Four, and the CD is virtually the same. The one that kills me is Jim's contribution. Years from now he'll put the CD on for his friends and family, telling them of all the concerts we played, all the setting up and tearing down of his drumset, the innumerable mic checks, the late night rehearsals, all the time, toil and sweat.
"That's me on the hi-hat," he'll say. "Oh, and that's my cymbal there. Did you hear it? Let me rewind that. Okay, here it comes again...right...there! Yup, that's me. Um, no, I'm only on this track. No, no drums. Just my hi-hat and cymbals."
As his listeners contemplate his insignificance, Jim will blush with embarrassment and vow never to show this CD to anyone else as long as he lives.
The entire project turned out to be quite a slap in the face for all Four of us.
Actually, Jesus didn't fare much better. During the Prelude, a couple of the church's ministers are heard quoting that passage from Romans over pads of ethereal space music. In an apparent bid to appeal to a wider audience (which never happened), the first mention of Jesus is completely edited out, and the last reference fades out so quickly that you can barely hear it. Then, as if to show just how deliberately the Controversial One is being downplayed (again, to appeal to that wider audience, which never happened), you hear the ministers reading the passage again, edited exactly the same way. As for the rest of this Christian CD from the One, True Church, he is mentioned by name three times in a single span of 11 seconds. Jesus gets 11 seconds on the CD - it is believed that he, too, failed to show up to the studio with the requisite bucket of chicken.
Ultimately, this is just one of those classic church politics stories – the “righteous” leaders strutting about just like they do in "the world," with the average members afraid to challenge the blatant worldliness of their leaders. It’s a small-time scandal that was never uncovered – the story of a church band CD produced in a climate of pride, politics, and deception. Oh, well. Such things are common to man, even to those who think they’re above it all.
It still pisses me off to think of the lost opportunity to capture what we did and what we had, but I can laugh about it now...or at least sneer.
