I am the deputy

Hey I'm Pat, you can call me the deputy.

When I was young I heard a story from an older kid about a world famous band. Top secret insider information. The story was that when they performed massive stadium shows there was a guy with headphones and a microphone hidden under the stage. He’d sing along to all the tunes and he sounded identical to the lead singer. They’d cleverly mix his voice in to make up for the fact that the guy running around and gyrating onstage was living the rock god lifestyle and not hitting the high notes the way he used to. 

I used to imagine that the man below lived a tragic existence. He’d probably signed a non-disclosure agreement and been sworn to secrecy. He’d probably have to wear a disguise and pretend that he had some sort of boring job on tour. Polishing the mic stands. Ironing the drummer’s bandannas. There could only be half a dozen people who knew the truth. That’s a hell of a way to NOT to be in a band.

Darryl Jones first started playing bass for the Rolling Stones in 1993 or 94 when Bill Wyman retired. He’s been on the albums and live shows for over 25 years. Last time I checked he’s still not considered an official member of the Stones. Check out their publicity photos. That’s another way to NOT to be in band.

I’ve NOT been a member of The Odd Folk for exactly a year now. It started off when Oscar couldn’t do the European tour last spring. I knew Morgan from working together on a theatre show about Cornish Miners and that led to drinking Scotch and jamming tunes in a static home in St. Just at 4am. He got in touch with me a few weeks before the van was set to depart and I just happened to have a bit of free time in my schedule and that led to drinking wine in a 16^th Century German frame built house in Riesling Country at 4am.

In the USA we’d call it being a ‘sub’ (substitute). Here in the UK they call it

being a ‘dep’ (deputy). I like the way ‘dep’ sounds because it makes me think of old western films and I wish they gave you a shiny deputy star badge that you would proudly display on your guitar strap to let everyone know that you meant business. 

There’s a few different ways dep situations tend to work. Sometimes they give you a bunch of recordings from albums and maybe some live shows and you have to work out all the parts by ear. Sometimes they give you a book or PDFs with all the parts written out meticulously and they expect you to do it exactly as written. Usually it’s a bit of a potpourri. Sometimes you get a combination of barely audible voice recordings, post-it notes, folded and wrinkled up coffee stained manuscript pages, and links to songs that are in different keys than they currently play them, and sometimes the bridge sections have changed and you need to "Watch Larry during the third chorus and if he nods twice that means we’re going to modulate up to Eb but if he blinks we’ll go straight into the intro for the next tune”.

I got lucky with how it all went with The Odd Folk. Morgan came to my living room we drank tea and he sang and played through something like 20 tunes and I jotted down outlines, recorded bits and played along. I learned a few of Oscar’s parts note for note but mostly I was given some freedom to bring a bit of my personality into the band. I had another rehearsal with Morgan and Louis the day before the tour. I met Shelley for the first time on stage at the first gig. I met Andy on stage for the second gig.

There’s always a bit of a funny thing after a gig when you’re not really in the band. When someone comes up to talk to you by the bar you have to find the right point to tell them that you’re not actually in the band or else you feel like you might be presenting yourself under false pretence. It’s a bit like trying to figure out if someone you meet is flirting with you, and deciding whether it’s appropriate or uncomfortably presumptuous to inform them that you’re in a relationship.  

There are also those times when a long-term Belgian fan asks you where the usual guy is and is relieved to hear that he hasn’t actually left the band, he’s just taking a break. Then they feel awkward because they think that they may have hurt your feelings and so they say something like ‘It’s not better or worse, it's just different’ but really you couldn't care less and you’re more preoccupied thinking about whether or not you might be able to step outside for a cigarette (even though you quit years ago) and justify it because you’re just filling in for another guy, so maybe it’s really like it’s them smoking instead of you.

But it’s been a real joy. I was ‘Not Oscar’ for a few other shows after the tour and then I was ‘Not Louis‘ for a couple more. I was almost going to be ‘Not Shelley’ for something else but that ended up not happening. Some people say being in a band is like being in a marriage. To several people at the same time. And members can leave for a bit and be replaced by random people for a while. And you can secretly keep a guy in the cellar to perform the duties that you can’t quite pull off the way you used to.