Chapter 3: The Reluctant Singer

Fran spent a good part of Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday trying to get me to learn how to sing. It was far more difficult than I thought. We used a digital recorder and she and I sang into it and then played it back to listen. At first, I didn't recognize my own voice. That's not how I sounded, I thought. But after a while, I began to understand just what she was saying about my voice. By itself, it wasn't a pleasant sound. But in harmony with Fran, it sounded completely different. I was pretty certain that Fran had the talent to be a lead singer in her own right. She had the voice and the inflection, but she needed the confidence to project herself to the audience. That would only come with time and experience. For my part, I could see the possibility that I might be able to backup Fran if it was the right song.

There was a lot of touching and hands-on teaching involved in my learning to sing properly. When to breathe, how to hold my head, how to make eye contact with the audience; all these things came into the sessions. The main thing that Fran preached was to "feel the music" when I sang. It wasn't enough to know the words, I had to sell them. She would stand behind me as I sang and press on my diaphragm, trying to get me to use it to propel my voice. It wasn't easy and I didn't get it right away, but over time, it seemed to her that I was improving. At least, that's what she told me.

With constant pestering, she convinced me that we would prepare two songs to audition for Fox and see if he thought they might fit what he would be happy with. He was usually pretty easy to please, but I didn't want him to pretend it was great if it wasn't. I needed an honest opinion. Fran was committed to the plan, so I owed it to her to do the best I could. The two songs we chose were Don't Let Go and Need You Now. Fran would sing lead on both songs with my backup. We rehearsed the songs to point where we were sick of the sound of them.

When Fran decided to let Stan in on our little project, I called him and told him we wanted to try something out with him. We got together on Monday night, just the three of us at my apartment. I had set the synthesizer up to give us the most complete sound possible for just the two of us. Fran would play chords and I would play guitar. Fingers crossed, we told Stan what we were up to.

I saw a big grin on his face before he exclaimed, "I knew it. I knew you'd give it a try. Show me what you've got."

We did. Our guest sat and listened intently, never interrupting or showing anything but concentration on our effort. When we finished "Need You Now," he just sat there, blinking his eyes and shaking his head.

"Are you two kidding me? That's your first try? Shit, Ed, you two sound like old pros, and the sound is amazing. I'll tell you what I like best. You don't sound like anyone. Your sound is different. It's all yours. Just imagine what it might be like with some more instrumental backup. How long will it take you to put together six or eight songs we can add to our act? Maybe two or three each set. Damn, you two are going to change everything about our band."

"Whoa, whoa, Stan. First of all, I'm glad you liked the songs. That's a start. But we aren't going to be able to put together eight or nine songs right away. Why don't we agree to start with one each set? When we're ready with more, we'll audition them for you. Hell, you serve two different audiences. One side is contemporary and the other is country. We haven't even looked at what fits our style yet. I've got some work to do before we have a play list we can use. It's going to have to be a step at a time. Understand?"

"Sure ... sure, Ed. Don't mind me. I'm just so damned excited about what you've added to this group with Fran and yourself. If this works out, I can see us working the county fair circuit in the summer. But I'll try and be patient and let you get your play list developed. It'll be hard, but I'll try," he grinned.

"Thanks. Fran and I have some ideas of what might work. If you have any, pass them along and we'll see if they fit what we can do."

"Great! Thanks, Ed. I'm really excited about this."

"Yeah," I smiled, "I gathered that."

I bought a used HP desktop computer and an inkjet printer. I didn't need a lot of horsepower, just enough to get on the internet and print out some lyrics and scores for songs we were interested in. I can't count the number of hours Fran and I scoured the sources for possible additions to our repertoire. Occasionally we'd try a song out just sitting at the computer to see if we could manage it. It was a good way to weed out the ones that we wouldn't be able to handle.

It took a couple of weeks of trial and error, not to mention practice, to come up with three songs for our contemporary list and three more for our country list. Fran was great at making notes as we worked through the songs to see how we should present them. Most of them, Fran was the lead and I was the backup. Once in a while, she would have me take the lead and our roles would be reversed.

It was nearly three weeks before we were ready to let Stan know what we had developed. We called a meeting at the apartment and Stan agreed immediately. When he arrived, Bud Lydel was with him. Bud was lead guitar, and a really talented musician. I figured something was up, but I'd let Stan tell me in his own time.

"Okay, Stan," I began, "Here's what Fran and I worked out as a starting play list for both the country and contemporary side." I passed the printed sheet to him with a copy to Bud.

Stan was silent as he read the list over. We had a dozen songs listed, only four of which could be classified as country. I saw his head nodding as he looked the list over carefully.

"I like the list, Ed. Some of it can cross over too. Do you think you and Fran can handle all of these songs?"

"We've worked on how we see them working for us, Stan," Fran said, speaking up for the first time. "I'm confident Ed can handle his part and I'm okay with mine. We've tried not to reach too far. I won't pretend I can do a Dolly Parton song. My voice can't handle that. But I can cover the ones we listed."

Stan continued to review the list with Bud. When they finished, they both nodded, apparently signifying approval.

"I asked Bud to be here for another reason, Ed. We need someone to play bass on a regular basis. Thad fills that role now, but we use him on fiddle and sometimes mandolin as well. Bud feels Thad can teach you bass pretty easily, since you already play guitar. You'd be even more valuable, Ed, and we could do some switching to make sure we always have what we need. Hell, keyboards, guitar, bass ... damn near a human spare part," he laughed.

I thought about it for a few moments without responding. Learning another instrument is usually a major project, but if Thad said it was easier because I already played guitar, then I'd give it a shot.

"Okay, Stan. I'll try it. I hope Thad's a real patient guy, Bud. I'm no screaming hell on guitar, so four strings instead of six might be more my speed."

"Great. Once again, Ed, you are willing to come through for me. Thank you. I'll let you and Bud decide how to get together and see how it works out."

"I don't think you'll have too much trouble, Ed," Bud said. "You have a good understanding of the guitar and that makes the transition a lot easier."

"I hope you're right, Bud. Anyway, Fran and I plan to rehearse three songs for this weekend and you can decide when to insert them. I'm sure you'll want to hear us go through them, so I'd suggest we get to the club an hour early and you can decide where to insert them ... or not," I added.

What the hell have I gotten myself into, I wondered? I had no intention of becoming a full time musician. I was just a spare part, filling in for missing pieces a month or so ago, now I'm in deep. How smart is that?

Stan and Bud left, both happy with the meeting. Me ... I was still wondering what the hell I'd just agreed to. Bad enough I have to learn to sing, now I have to learn a new instrument. How did this happen?

I turned to Fran and saw her laughing quietly at me.

"What's so damn funny?" I snapped.

"Don't get mad at me, Ed. You're the one who doesn't know how to say no to anyone." She couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She was right, of course. I was guilty of always trying to please everyone. I wondered where that came from. Oh well, too late now. Nice goin' Ed.

To some degree, Bud was right. Learning to play a bass guitar wasn't as difficult as it seemed. I had to adjust my fingering and my muscle memory of where each note was. Thad felt I should choose a fret style instrument to begin with. It would make it easier for me to find the right note and not have to hunt for it. I took his advice. I borrowed a used Bronco from the store and spent my next two weeks trying to learn to play it with some confidence. Luckily, most parts for bass didn't require tricky fingering like I might encounter on a guitar. It was more like just playing chords on the piano.

So now I was versatile Ed Murchie, semi-professional musician, stumbling along without a plan, dragging Fran along with me. Oh boy, the blind leading the blind. How did I get myself into this mess, I asked myself constantly?

The truth was, I was enjoying it. More importantly, Fran was with me every step of the way. Better yet, she was in bed with me every night. Once I'd gotten over the "look but don't touch" rule, I relaxed and we both began to sleep better. It still drove me crazy that this woman was just out of reach. My erections were painful, and only relieved by hand in the privacy of the bathroom. I didn't know how much longer I could hold out without something happening to upset the applecart.

What changed everything in our relationship was completely unpredictable. We were at the Riverside Club one Friday night, setting up for our three set performance. It would be my first time on bass and Fran would be on second keyboard in addition to her singing parts. We were almost a half-hour before our opening set when who should appear unannounced and definitely unwelcome but Crystal Shannon.

She stood with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "Well, well, well. Look who's here; Little Miss Fly-By-Night. You owe me some time, girl!" she snapped at Fran.

I saw the flustered look on Fran's face and knew I had to intervene. "She owes you nothing, Crystal. You voided her contract and if you'd like to discuss just how that came about, please join me in the office. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all these other people. That wouldn't be good for your career now, would it?"