Jon Nicol offers the best argument I’ve ever read for using a click track:
I want to tell you about a player who joined my team a few years ago. I met him through some other musicians and realized he might be a good addition to the team. People who knew him touted his ability to keep the band together and tight. However, I knew he also had some naysayers. But we’ll talk about that later.
He joined my team just for rehearsals at first. People gave him weird looks and even complained about him to me. This guy has no ego, but he has done a lot to damage the egos around him. He plays perfectly in time, and when someone gets off tempo he let’s them know it. Not rudely, just very matter-of-fact.
We actually had someone quit the team over him.
For a long time, this new member was OK just sitting in on rehearsals. When we all started to get used to him, we invited him to start joining us for a song or two on Sunday morning. The stipulation was, however, that if we as a band got off tempo from him, he’d stop playing.
Some wonder if he’s too rigid and mechanical and robs the music of its “soul.” Others wonder if he’s even spiritual enough to be on the worship team.
Are you ready to meet him and find what instrument he plays?
He goes by several names. Click Track. Click. Guide. Metronome. Least Popular Channel on the Aviom. A few of my team members have other names for him that shall not be muttered in this blog.
While it can be argued that the click is easily the “most hated” member of the team, “most loved” might seem a little over the top. I certainly don’t value the click over my flesh and blood players. But the click brings with him something that makes him crucial, almost indispensable.
Loading ...