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Trevor Finlay / Blog

What Grinds My Gears

There is a special place reserved in hell for cover bands with egos. First, let me explain my definition of ego. We all have one - doctors, lawyers, entrepeneurs, truck drivers, bartenders, everybody. I know that I do. At one point in my life, I decided that I was good enough to play music for a living. I believe that it's healthy and necessary. What drives me crazy is the unhealthy ego - one that's founded on insecurity or disallusion or both. Once upon a time I was a sound man at a punk club - the drummer came to hang at the front-of-house. I said to him "Wow - there are a lot of pretty girls here" to which he replied "Well, what do you think we are - amateurs?" Being in a popular tribute band can be a lot of fun and cool, but at the end of the day no one is running out to buy the newest CD done by the tribute band... To me, it's the same as getting an ego about being in the world's greatest wedding band. Don't take it or yourself so seriously, dammit.

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