Hey gang,
Here’s a fun thing: Every so often I experience what is called a “dissociative anxiety attack” - from what I understand it’s basically when enough stress builds up in my brain and body it makes me feel like an alien for a while, which is cool.
The weird thing is that I don’t really know it’s going to happen until I’m pretty ensconced in alienville, and also I can go years without having one so it’s always a fun surprise when it occurs. A few weeks ago I had one during a show that my band was playing, which, contrary to assumption was not the cause of the anxiety attack (I have played thousands of shows in my life and if they made me feel like that every time I would’ve given it up long ago) but oftentimes an elevated moment like preshow jitters can be the trigger or tipping point.
I share this not to freak anyone out or fish for sympathy. Anxiety is, if not normal, at least ubiquitous enough that it can and should be normalized. Late stage capitalism has also pushed a hundred thousand bite size anxiety triggers on our culture - from social media echo chambers, to the 24 hour outrage-fueled news cycle, as well as reliably sending those in my generation through regular economic and social upheavals every few years since the turn of the millennium. All while privatizing the responsibility for that anxiety (and the same could be said for depression, attention deficit and a host of other mental issues) onto the individual in the form of simple chemical imbalances that can only be mitigated through pharmacological means.
So modern living is the pits and sometimes it makes me feel like an alien sometimes. It’s ok if you feel like an alien sometimes too. The best piece of advice I got after my first attack was simple: “The only way out is through.” Recognizing the situation, remembering that it will pass, holding on to the oh shit handle until it does.
But another funny thing about anxiety attacks is that they have aftershocks and reverberations that surface here and there. Most of the time mine bubble up in my dreams. Last night I had a very mild one that must have been connected to my experience at the show.
Let’s get into it.
Ruby Lee - Bill Withers
In my dream, I was on tour playing bass with a band and just before we went onstage the singer informed me that we were going to kick off with “Ruby Lee” by Bill Withers. While I once counted bass as my main instrument, it’s been probably 15 years since I last spent any serious amount of time practicing, nor have I ever played “Ruby Lee” on any instrument at all.
On its surface, the song should be a cinch on bass. The bassline actually never changes throughout the entire song, relying on Withers’ vocal melody to mark the structural changes while the backing track chugs along steadily underneath. But that actually makes the song harder to play on bass. There are no changes, no rests, nowhere to hide, just metronomic execution over and over again. Also the song is one of two tunes on the record that were co-written by Withers’ long-time bass player Melvin Dunlap and it shows. The buttery smooth bass melody slinks and hops over the fretboard with relaxed precision as Dunlap bends notes and throws in the kind of stuttering flourishes that only a player of his caliber could manage.
Dunlap not only held down the low end on songs like “Who is He (and What is He to You)?”, “Lean on Me” and “Use Me” but also was a core member of the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band where he laid down the iconic, high-register bassline on “Express Yourself” in 1968. Call those pretty big shoes to fill at a moment’s notice.
Fortunately, before I had to go onstage and try to sink into Dunlap’s slithery groove, I woke up in a cold sweat, mercifully clutching a pillow instead of a ‘72 Fender Jazz Bass.
I’m a firm believer that every cloud has a sliver lining. Today’s was that I woke up with Melvin Dunlap’s bassline from “Ruby Lee” stuck in my head and Maeve and I got to listen to the record +’Justments while I drove her to school today as the sun started to dapple the West Hills of Portland and so far nobody has asked me to play even one tasty bass lick. The day is still young, though.
That’s it for today. Thanks for listening.