The Hang
Or, how I learned to value people in increasingly less transactional ways
Today is a special day. I get to work with two extraordinary musicians, drummer Steve Brewster and bassist Mark Hill. We have a lot of history, spanning decades. Song after song, album after album—lots of output, hard work, love and respect. Both get mentions in my upcoming memoir (complete with discography), available February 4, 2025. Here’s a memory of one of my fave projects that we worked on together—No Man’s Land.
So it goes, that even though I have a new album of ten songs, EVERY KIND OF UH-OH, dropping a week from today, the making goes on.
What I'm most excited about though is the hang. I was telling a non-musician friend this week about the hang. “What is it?” He asked. Well, it's as important as the music. Or the money. You really shouldn't have music without it.
Here's how it goes. Every vocational musician knows it. Best case scenario is good music, good hang, good money. If the music and money are subpar, but the hang is great, the session is not only tolerable, but possibly fun, memorable. If you're well paid, but the hang and the music are intolerable? Well, this is what led to the musician joke about a hangless, bad music session: "If I pay to have my gear carted off and forfeit my check, can I leave now?"
The hang is the people. It's the soul. The glue. The humor and the history together. The joy of creating together—first there was nothing, then there was something. It's about being human. It’s the delight of safe and pretense-free camaraderie.
The hang is actually what we're all hungering for, even if we can't name it. The hang is what makes our differences smaller and our unity of grace, love, and laughter so much bigger.
The song, “Get Yourself Some,” is about entering into a cosmic hang of infinite love and possibility. If you don't do anything else today. Get yourself some hang. It's what you're made for.
BTW, thank you for leaving comments, liking, and doing all that algorithm junk. Your kindness has not gone unnoticed. Peace and love.
I like this so much, Charlie. My band has been together for over 40 years. The bass player is 84 and still carts his upright to rehearsals. Our hangs can be hilarious with misheard questions and answers that make no sense. They figure it all out with love and laughter, (mostly:-)throughout the process of learning material for the next concert. It’s all worth it!💖
Working at Quad Studios many years ago, I witnessed the camaraderie between the players that worked together regularly and thought they had the best job in the world. To make a living wage doing what you love with other professional that become your lifelong friends. That's a dream job no matter what you do.