12.27.08

The day Philip and Becky Rice began their lives together.

Gah, that's just messed up.

Here's the wedding through my eyes:

Matt (drummer from the neighborhood and stardeath), Eric (bass player from the neighborhood), and I were perched up in the balcony. Cables, computers, iPods, drums, a sampler, hand percussion, a synthesizer, delay pedals, bags and cases littered the space around the Yamaha m7CL (a digital mixing console). And right out over the rail, everyone dressed up, each ribbon and fabric placed carefully, every relative positioned in the right chair, the church was full of excited hearts and anticipating loved ones.

Weddings usually piss me off. Things are generally so pretentious. Trust me, I believe decorating and atmosphere are totally valid and always essential. I'm not talking about that stuff. I'm talking about the stench that exists too often at weddings where the relatives are uptight, the creeper uncle is checking out the bridesmaids (sorry, I don't know where that came from), the bride is worried about the unnoticeable flaw in her hair and dress, the groom is in need of a pep talk, and no one is actually happy because they drove and flew too far to just make their socially required appearance.

This wedding, however, couldn't have been more opposite of that. From the balcony, one of the musicians and I were noticing how only a small pocket of people weren't in the most lively conversation people could have in such a situation. The level of community and love existing in that one room was truly remarkable.

Then, before I could take it in, I was cued to start playing the keys that would set the mood for the whole service. You see, Phil, being a musician, and I, being his wing man in just about every musical endeavor he makes, sat together for hours writing out a score for the wedding. Yeah, like in a movie. This wedding was created to be a song. In the key of D. We tracked his vocals overlapping and swirling in falsetto notes, reverbed out to put it eerily in the distance. We spent time dialing in the synth sound I would be droning out perfectly. We discussed each movement of the music corresponding with the service. 

And it worked.

I played little soft droning synth chords for a while and abruptly stopped. It was time for Becky to come walking down the aisle to Phil. Making anxious eye contact with Matt, his finger hit the sampler trigger simultaneously with his big crash, opening up a naked space where Phil's pre-recorded vocals swept the sanctuary. Two bars in, Matt, Eric and I came in big, ushering the bride in with huge, epic notes.

Things would die down, flow, anxiously wait, slow down, and immediately hasten with the corresponding event happening in the wedding. And I must say, not due to our musical talent, but rather to an atmosphere of love and the presence of the Lord, the wedding was intense. No homily (speech or sermon), no dude on acoustic guitar, no 'butterfly kisses.' Just a series of emphases being placed on the epic moments of life: the triumphal entry, the vows, the intimate communion, the prophetic and savored prayer and laying on of hands (of over 60 or so people), and the big kiss. Dang. That's pretty rich.