I found myself alongside Billy Sheehan at the Ampeg booth signing autographs. Billy asked me about my tendinitis (he has dealt with hand issues as well and was one of the bassists I called when I started experiencing discomfort). I told him I was playing pain-free due to my workout regimen. After we had signed for about 20 people each, I had no one left. Billy, however, had a line for the remainder of our hour-long session. I know Billy is one of the most famous bassists in the world, but I felt I could hold my own, based on the simple fact that I am in a contemporary band that’s been touring since I joined in 2003. Humbling No. 1.
Afterward I headed to the Warwick booth, where I met up with Jonas Hellborg. As Jonas was excitedly showing me the amp that he designed, he handed me a bass that was the antithesis to what I look for in an instrument. Jonas noticed I was uncomfortable, so he brought out this short-scale bass and started killing a Bach fugue. I was getting goose bumps on my arm. Then he handed me the bass, and my heart rate jumped. I thought, Please don’t suck again—but instead, I ripped like I have never ripped. How could this have happened? My old speed-metal band Racer X was playing a show the next night and I had been practicing for three weeks, which must have helped. A crowd started gathering as we traded back and forth. He was dialing up sounds on the amp and people were filming us. It was nuts! A true highlight of my life.
Fast forward to the Lakland booth, where I wanted to say hi to Dan Lakin. As I walked up, I saw Bill Dickens there. He was playing a Lakland bass and, of course, killing it! Leo from Lakland put me right behind Bill, and I start chatting with him … as he was playing! Then handed me his bass, created a drum loop on his new Boss pedal, and said, “Rock it!” I was feeling a little cocky from the Jonas jam, but this time I sucked again. Bill’s bass had too many strings (I just get lost on a 6-string), and the body was too big for me. After several attempts I realized I was too nervous and way ahead of the beat. I handed Bill his bass back and said, “I am rushing like crazy … I think I had too much coffee.” Head down, I walked away telling myself: I just got checked by Bill Dickens—that’s what I get for being too cocky. Humbling Experience No. 2.
Saturday night was the scene of my final NAMM show humbling. Racer X was playing our first show in eight years, and the songs do not have the easiest bass lines to pull off. In preparation, I over-compensated for the gig and switched to lightergauge strings to get a better handle on the shred parts. I noticed during the first song that my bass was sharp against Paul Gilbert’s guitar because I was hitting so hard. I had to alter my touch just to stay in tune, so I was unable to really dig in and play expressively. Ah, the challenges of playing in front of a thousand musicians and peers at a NAMM show!
I look at this year’s NAMM experience as a learning curve. A musician’s ego is valuable in enabling confidence and helping to envision unknown possibilities. An inflated ego may not be a good attribute, but if that inflated ego gets humbled, it can be invaluable to one’s own musical and personal growth.