Group Dynamics

A rock band is, inevitably, the interaction of two or more people.  How these people interact is always as unique as the people themselves.

The most popular group of all time were The Beatles.  The primaries in this group were, of course, John Lennon and Paul McCartney.  Originally John was the leader of the band, but over time Paul and his songs gained ascendency as John succumbed to internal pressures.  George grew resentful over the duo's control, and Ringo remained philosophical.  It was, of course, much more complicated than this, but that's pretty much it in a nutshell.  The struggle of egos finally broke them apart.

Every group of musicians, rock, country, jazz, even a symphony orchestra - heck, every group of people for any purpose - has its own group dynamic.  This dynamic directs what material gets done, what the next step in their development will be, and how long they'll last, among other things.

Duke Ellington was famous for writing concertos for his primary soloists.  During the Big Band era it wasn't unusual for a lead musician to leave, either to take a better offer from another band leader or to form a band of their own.  Ellington was able to keep his core group together for decades by showcasing them with pieces written specifacally for them.

The Doors didn't play anything except by unanimous consent.  They were known to halt a show for several minutes and argue about what to play next.  NRBQ, on the other hand, went on stage without any set list at all.  Their drummer, Joey Spampinato, called tunes on the fly.

Rush has survived with the same three members for about 35 years.  They have a unique ability to divide up responsibilities on every project; one will do the cover, one will oversee the promotion, another will do something else.  As a writing team, the drummer, Neil Peart, will submit lyrics.  Then the guitarist and bassist, Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee, work out the music, tweaking the lyrics with Peart as necessary.  Lifeson is presented as the real leader of the band, but if he is he's a very wise one, leaving the others plenty of spotlight time and creative credit.

I especially like a comment he made in a recent video on the history of the band.  Peart wasn't the original drummer, coming in after the first album was already released.  There was the inevitable getting-to-know-each-other period while they were on the road, and Lifeson noted that Peart was always reading.  And some pretty heavy stuff, too.  His reaction was, "Gee, I bet this guy could come up with some awesome words."  And so, Peart was tapped to write lyrics.  A lot of band leaders would have seen someone like Peart as a threat, but Lifeson's attitude was to use that talent to improve the band.

A lot of bands center around one person who serves as the main provider of material and the front man in live situations.  Jethro Tull has Ian Anderson; Dire Straits, Mark Knopfler; John Fogerty served this function for Creedence Clearwater Revival.  Sometimes there are a duo who act as the band's primaries, like Mick Jagger and Keith Richard do for the Rolling Stones, or Robert Plant and Jimmy Page for Led Zeppelin.

Fleetwood Mac are a unique entity in the annals of rock.  Begun largely as a backing group for guitarist Peter Green, he was so impressed with his rhythm section of Mick Fleetwood and John McVie he suggested it as a name for the band.  When he left, the band continued on with other musicians through several iterations, keeping the name along with the rhythm section.  The new people each took a turn as tacit band leaders, but Fleetwood and McVie remained the constants.  Fleetwood even acted as the band's manager for a long time.

Another unique band was Rockpile.  This was a four-piece rock band that never played under that name until near the end of their time together.  The primaries in this group were guitarst Dave Edmunds and bassist Nick Lowe.  Both were songwriters and singers, and both had flourishing solo careers.  Whichever one had a new album to promote, the rest of the band would act as their backup for the following tour.  When it was time for everyone to go their separate ways, they recorded one final album as Rockpile and called it a day.

Supergroups are an interesting phenomenon that came out of the 1960's.  Cream are widely regarded as the first of these.  Eric Clapton rose to prominence playing guitar for the Yardbirds and John Mayall's Bluesbreakers.  He played with bassist Jack Bruce in the Bluesbreakers.  Bruce had previously played with drummer Ginger Baker in another group, and the three decided to join forces.  Although Clapton was arguably better known in the US, Bruce was clearly the leader of the band.  He handled most of the songwriting and lead vocal duties.

Probably the most successful of these bands was Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.  Each had been in another popular band before they joined forces.  David Crosby and Stephen Stills met and became friends when they were in the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield respectively.  Graham Nash, singer and songwriter for the Hollies, met Crosby when the Byrds came to England.  In 1968, after the Byrds had fired Crosby, they met up again in California.  Crosby suggested they get together with Stills, whose band had imploded the year before, for a jam session at "Mama" Cass Elliott's home.  The rest, as they say, is history.  After a successful first album, they needed more musicians to back them up on tour.  Neil Young, who had been with Stills in Springfield, was brought on board and given equal billing.

This worked well as a partnership.  Crosby was the creative flake, always experimenting with alternate guitar tunings and musical ideas, and had a real gift for harmony.  He wrote songs like "Almost Cut My Hair," "Carry On," and "Deja Vu."  Stills was the workhorse of the band, playing everything on the first album except drums.  Not as wildly creative as Crosby, he was probably the most solid musician and songwriter.  His songs include "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" and "49 Bye-Bye's."

Graham Nash wrote the hit singles, and they were great ones.  He gets credit for "Marakesh Express" and "Teach Your Children," among others.  As a trio, they seemed unstoppable.  Their pop instincts were brilliant, and their various talents complimented each other.  Enter Neil Young.

In his own way, Young was the equal and the inverse of each of the other three.  He wrote big hits, played every instrument, and was fearlessly creative.  But he was volatile, unstable, and darker than they were.  It could be argued that the album, "Deja Vu" from 1970, was a quantum leap above its predecessor, "Crosby, Stills, and Nash."  But the only two studio albums the quartet did after that were in 1988 ("American Dream") and 2004 ("Looking Forward"), and neither of them are very highly regarded.  As a trio, however, the other three have survived and thrived.

One thing that really drove this band was the ongoing competition between Stills and Young.  Young has always been singled out as the creative genius and his solo career was much more successful than that of the other three.  Stills, on the other hand, was never happy as the "little brother," and was always pushing to exceed his friend, while at the same time celebrating him.  His solo albums have included several of Neil's compositions.

The inner dynamic of The Beatles was a lot like this.  Paul McCartney was ever in John Lennon's shadow, even after songs like "Yesterday" made him the most popular songwriter.  Paul was The Cute One, but it was John's band.  This dynamic continues to this day, with Paul ever striving for John's respect, even after the latter's death.  Think on the 2002 live album by Paul, "Back in the USA," where he credited all the Beatles-era songs to "McCartney/Lennon" instead of the usual "Lennon/McCartney."  Nah, no psychological issues there.

Sometimes a band does well because the principals find a way to work together well and compliment each other's strengths, while de-emphasizing each other's weaknesses.  One example; a casual listen to CSNY's "Four-Way Street" reveals that Nash, in a solo setting, was pretty weak at guitar and piano.  But they wouldn't have gotten nearly the radio airplay without his songs, and his high tenor voice made their famous harmonies work.

Other times it's simply a matter of the band accepting their role as sidemen for their resident genius.  A group like Jethro Tull changes personnel regularly, but remains largly the same.  Charlie Watts sits grinning behind the drumkit behind Jagger and Richards, happy to be in one of the biggest bands of all time, and doing as he darned well pleases in his off-time.  Since the early 1960's they've had three lead guitarists, but only one drummer.

And sometimes three, four, or more powerful egos manage to find a way to work together for the common good.  Credit gets spread around, creative urges are indulged, and the show goes on.  Rush is a great example of this.  So is U2.  Lynyrd Skynyrd would fit into this catagory, operating mainly as an extended family with no real leader, especially since the passing of original lead vocalist Ronnie Van Zandt.  In groups like this, decisions are made by concensus and everybody has room to explore their own muses.

Speaking of Skynyrd, it would have been interesting to see how their relationship with Steve Gaines would have gone.  Gaines was brought in to replace departing guitarist Ed King, who is coincidentally back with the band.  Gaines proved to be a powerful singer and singwriter, sharing a good portion of those duties on his one studio album with the band, "Street Survivors."  It would have been interesting to see if he'd broken away for a solo career, or if Van Zandt would have let him have more of the spotlight.  Unfortunately, he died in the same plane crash as Van Zandt, ending the first era of the band.

The point of this is not necessarily to express a preference.  All these methods work, to varying degrees, mostly depending on the people involved.  Since all the acts mentioned above gained a considerable amount of fame and influence, it could be argued that they were all successful.  Even the ones that didn't last long.  There may be residual hard feelings between Eric Clapton, Ginger Baker, and Jack Bruce, but I've never seen anything to suggest any of them regret being in Cream.

I would be interested in hearing anything anyone has to say about any group they'd been part of; what worked, what didn't, where did ego help, where did it hurt, what did you do for good or ill?  What have you learned on the subject?  And no, don't feel obligated to name names, please.

If I have any suggestion for anyone contemplating a musical union, it would be to go into it with your eyes open.  Be aware of your own strengths and weaknesses.  Be on the lookout for those of the rest of the group.  Be supportive, but also be honest.  If there's something you want to do, say so; don't make the rest of the band guess.  And accept the answer you get.  If your ideas get a negative response, take the time to decide how much they mean to you.  You may have to press your case further, or put them aside for a time, or find another outlet for them.  Or, accept the possibility that they suck and you're wrong.

Jon Anderson has held an unofficial leadership role within Yes over the years purely out of obstinance and persistance.  He would suggest his ideas over and over until everyone broke down and tried them.  And, often, they were pretty good, but the band finally accepted the fact that, if Jon had an idea, they were going to try it.

And most importantly, be prepared for the end to come.  And it most likely will.  Try and let it come in such a way that will allow the members to still be friends.  Every band is an experiment.  And while it's tempting, especially when you're young, for everything you're interested in to be the center of the universe, it's really not.  The breakup of a band may suck, but it's better in the end to let it go and remain friends.  Learn from the experience, and move on with your life.