You hear the phrase "living the dream" casually tossed around, but bassist/vocalist Jay DeMarcus of Rascal Flatts really is setting the bar for the storied cliché: An everykid
from a musical family in Columbus, Ohio goes to Nashville, gets his band signed, the group tours
the world, sells 20 million records, and charts ten No. 1 singles and counting. Oh yeah, he married
a beauty queen, too. But behind the easy caricature is a no-bull player and producer, a guy who’s
every bit the bass geek as the Jaco worshipper down the street, someone who stood his musical
ground in the session-cat-dominated Nashville scene to earn his way onto every Rascal Flatts album
since the first back in 2000. “That was our argument,” says DeMarcus, now 38. “That’s what Joe
Don Rooney and I do. He plays guitar and I play bass, and there’s no reason to call it a band if
you’re not gonna have the guys in the band playing on the records.”
Here’s another sign that DeMarcus was destined to be a bassist—he started off as a drummer.
But after realizing he wanted to write songs, he started playing other instruments: guitar, keyboards,
mandolin, and bass. After majoring in music at Lee University near Chattanooga, he joined
a Christian band called East To West, which brought him to Nashville. “Really, my goals were to
write and produce. But I started playing bass more, and as you try to find ways to start paying bills
and make a living, you take all kinds of gigs.” He worked steadily, eventually becoming bandleader
for country artist Chely Wright. Then in 1997, Jay convinced his cousin, vocalist, and longtime musical
collaborator Gary LeVox, to come to Nashville. A year later, it happened. “We started playing
some clubs together, and then we got signed as Rascal Flatts. Things sort of took off from there.”
You could say that.
With co-write credits throughout the Rascal Flatts catalog, and stand-alone production credits
for Michael English, Jo Dee Messina, and Chicago, DeMarcus has achieved his early stated goals
of writing and producing. At the end of the day, though, he’s still a bassist in a band, and that was
the focus of our interview in the midst of an intense summer publicity blitz to promote the group’s
latest album Unstoppable, their fourth consecutive record to debut at No. 1.
What were your early playing years
like, and how did bass fit in with the
other instruments you picked up?
My father made his living in Columbus
playing keys in local bands, and he
played Fender piano bass because he
could make more money by not hiring a
bass player. When I would hear him play,
my ear would gravitate toward the bass
lines. I quickly found out that I loved that
feeling of anchoring the rhythm section
with the drummer. My dad showed me a
few little things—I learned how to play
bass on a Gibson Grabber bass that he
had bought at some yard sale. The more
I played, the more I loved what a bass
guitar meant to a rhythm section.
Who were your three main influences
as a bassist and musician?
Right out of the gate, Marcus Miller
was a huge influence. I also love Jimmy
Johnson and Jaco. I could never play like
Jaco, but it was something to shoot for, anyway!
And then I got into people who were
playing straight pop music, like Nathan
East and Leland Sklar. When I started get-
ting into the country scene in Nashville,
people like Jackie Street and Jimmy Lee
Sloas were on some of my favorite records.
Plus, Tommy Sims—he’s one of my favorites.
He’s sick.
How did you get comfortable playing
bass and singing?
That’s tough. You’ve got to have that
pocket with the drummer and lay down the
groove and sing things that aren’t necessarily
in rhythm with the line you’re laying
down. Practice-makes-perfect. I like to get
the vocals to where they’re second-nature
and I don’t have to think about singing my
lines, and concentrate more on the groove
and the pocket with the bass line.
The first Rascal Flatts CD seems to be
the only one featuring Nashville session
bassists. After that it’s all you, right?
Yeah. We were new artists, and the
producers didn’t know us very well, so I
kind of see their point of view. They didn’t
know what they’d be getting, and they
didn’t want to put some untested guy in
the studio playing with a bunch of session
guys, and potentially putting them
in a place where they were wasting a
bunch of money if I couldn’t deliver.
So we finally sat down and I said,
Look, it’s my record, I want a shot, and
if it sucks, I’ll spend money out of my
own pocket to replace it. That’s how we
started playing on our records.
I remember a distinct moment. We
did the first track on the second record,
and the producers were sitting there. The
drummer, Lonnie Wilson, came into the
control room, and we listened back to
the first take, and he started laughing. He
was like, My God, man, that’s awesome!
There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be
playing on all kinds of records. And our
producer at the time, Mark Bright, turned
around and started chuckling, All right,
all right, I was wrong, I was wrong, I’m
sorry. And after that it was all good.
What’s it like playing bass in arenas
and stadiums versus honky-tonks
and smaller clubs?
Well, you can get away with more in
smaller settings. You can play a little
fancier and show off your chops a bit
more. When you’re playing a bigger arena
or outdoor venue, you have to simplify,
because a lot of it is lost in translation.
What might sound cool in your own ear
mix is completely lost by the time it gets
to the person in the back row of an arena.
So I learned very quickly in the first few
years of touring that what you have to
do is simplify and make the low end
translatable as it gets out to the arena.
How do the bass lines on the Rascal
Flatts records get created? And how does
that fit into the overall writing process?
We’re fortunate to work with one of the
greatest producers and guitar players of our
times. Dann Huff just inspires you to play
better. When we’re taking a track and working
out the arrangement, I always try to create
a line that means something to the song.
I try to make the bass matter. The only criticism
I’ve ever had of country music is for
so long, the bass line was so anemic that it
meant nothing to the track. I love bass, and
I love lines that matter and jump out at you.
I try to approach each take differently and
not play the same thing every time. Sooner
or later, take after take, you home in on a
part that fits the track, and ultimately mat-
ters as a bass line.
When you’re producing other bassists,
what do you look to draw out of them on
a session?
I let them do what they do. I try not to
get too nitpicky about it, because it’s hard
as a bass player; when you listen to a song,
you know what you would play. The bassists
I use are extraordinary, so in the first place,
there’s a reason that they’re in there. It’s
because I believe in what they do.
If you could track bass on a cut for any
artist in the world other than Rascal Flatts,
who would it be?
I’d say Paul McCartney. It would be such
an honor to have one of my favorite melodic
bass players call me to play bass on a track
for his record.
What have you learned about yourself
as a bassist and musician over the
past ten years—and what do you want to
learn in the next ten?
More than anything, I’ve learned that
just when I think I’m good and I can bring
something unique to the table, I find out
quickly that I suck and I have a lot of work
left to do. [Laughs.] Ten years from now, I
hope that I can look back and say the same
thing, and that I’m still doing what I love,
which is playing bass on records. I hope I’m
still employed!
CAN BE HEARD ON

Rascal Flatts, Unstoppable
[Lyric Street, 2009]
Rascal Flatts, Me and My
Gang [Lyric Street, 2006]
LeAnn Rimes, Whatever We Wanna
[Warner Classics UK, 2006]