They're Hip, They're Cool, They're 35: The New Wedding Band

wbpic.JPG
Via NYT.
When I saw that the NYT had a story over the weekend about a new breed of wedding band, I expected that the piece would look into the trend of hiring a new breed of original (probably indie) bands for your wedding--"Lambchop plays original set for wedding, makes $10,000" sort of thing.

But this story wasn't about that: It was about ex-traditional musicians who'd gone on to families and careers, and were playing in wedding bands on the side, one of whom--The Dexter Lake Club Band--is not only really good at playing covers and entertaining 20-somethings to grandmas, but can also be credited with making playing in a wedding band cool. But can playing in a wedding band ever really be cool?

Never mind whether this is really a new trend or not, the wedding-band circuit tends to evoke images of washed-up wannabes or has-beens--mostly never-were types--who couldn't cut it creatively and sold their souls for a chance at an audience. Like, any audience. You could call it selling out if there was actually anything to sell out in the first place, naysayers seem to say.

The problem with that stereotype is that it ignores the wide range of ways folks drawn to music can be engaged by playing it--from session work to commercial songwriting to the cover-band circuit. It imagines that the only criteria for whether one should be playing music is whether it gets some kind of mainstream or critical approval. It presumes that talent only counts in original music, and not necessarily in original or interesting--or even merely faithful--interpretations of other folks' music. Not to mention the fact that that sort of thinking also ignores how much playing other people's songs--hits or otherwise--is really fun.

The Dexter Lake Club Band--composed of a former French Kicks member and some other dudes with real-life responsibilities--have been heralded in the Times piece as The Real Deal, at least as real as you can get doing covers:

Weddings, of course, have been the secret sustainer of the music world since time immemorial. But for just as long, wedding bands have been a source of embarrassment for those forced to play in them. The Dexter Lake Club Band has neatly subverted this construction by the simple expediency of creating a band that actually rocks. In the process, they've become one of New York's premier wedding bands for people who would never dream of hiring a wedding band. New York magazine called the band one of the "top 10 reasons to get married in New York," and it has played for high-profile brides like the actresses Olivia Wilde and Amanda Peet. ("I am an old lady and I was pregnant, and I still danced up a storm," Ms. Peet says by e-mail message.)

Of course, the tone of the story has to draw upon the stereotype, so it follows with an emphasis on how scruffy and hipster-y and unkempt the band is--just like "real" indie rockers--and how they know what it's like to tour in a shitty van, lest you think these are just straight-up dudes who want to play music but never really could by any stretch of cool. They choose to do this. And they actually make money, which for a musician, can ostensibly never be sneered at.

At any rate, I wonder--is just being really good at covers enough to make it cool--cool enough to transcend the Nadir of Slumming that is the wedding circuit? (Looking at our own resident cover band Guilty Pleasures, I'd say absolutely. But they're a Cover Band primarily and not a Wedding Band.) Or are wedding bands, no matter how rockin' their rendition of "American Girl," destined to credibility with an asterisk--always a bridesmaid and never a bride?

  • Weekly
  • Music
  • Promotions
  • Dining
  • Events