The Islander – Part 10: In The Band – Part 1

I was cold, I was wet, and I was exhausted, and I was having the time of my life.

In the amphitheater outside of the lunch room, the marching band was having their moment. At the end of every game, we’d march back from the football field and stand in rows on the large circular steps. After playing music and marching for the community, the students, and the football team, we would play music for ourselves. This specific evening, the band was playing for us, the seniors in the band after our last game. In the pouring rain, we danced in the center, surrounded by the band, joyously dancing.

Most people started band in 6th grade, I didn’t start until sophomore year. When it came time to do band, choir, or orchestra in middle school, my choice was easy. I had been playing violin since I was 6 years-old, I was really good at it, so I went with orchestra. Throughout middle school I was satisfied with my choice. I was the best violinist in orchestra. This was a really nice feeling since I wasn’t popular, I was bad at sports, and while I did fine academically, I never feel like one of the smartest people in the room.

I’d hear the band play during our music concerts, and their renditions of “Hot Cross Buns,” other typical middle school band music didn’t impress me.

My brother, Ed is three years older than me and had gotten into playing piano for the high school jazz band. So, when I was a freshmen, and he was a senior, with his help I got into jazz band as a pianist. It was a whole new world, a style of music that I hadn’t played before, and it was fun. I knew about brass and woodwind instruments, but I had never seen people play them like these upperclassmen did (Jazz band was an auditioned group that usually only included upperclassmen).

One day in jazz band, our teacher announced that the drill team needed a recording of the fight song to work on their routine for the football game. Since all of the jazz band kids except for me and my brother were in marching band and they were some of the best players, it was a simple enough thing to do. I’ll never forget one of the drummers strapping on a set of quads marching drums and being absolutely in awe as he warmed-up.

I watched memorized as they band played through the fight song. The percussion parts were fast and kinetic. The moving bass line was driving and powerful and the flute parts sparkled. Counter lines weaved in and out of the melody and the break strain with its chants was like nothing I had ever heard before. I had no idea that music could be this. It was one of most unforgettable musical performance I had ever heard in my life.

I didn’t know how to play any band instruments, I had never seen a marching band, I had no idea how hard it would be to stand on a football field for hours learning to march, and how uncomfortable it would be to wear a uniform for an entire football game. But in that moment, I decided that I was going to join the band.