Session Shenanigans

The studio guitarist’s guide to happiness and personal fulfilment, as related by session ace Mitch Dalton. This month: Everybody dance!

- Mitch Dalton

“Everybody dance, do-do-do Clap your hands, clap your hands Everybody dance, do-do-do” (Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1809-1892. Or Nile Rodgers, 1952- present. Not sure.)

Back in the day, where would an impecunious plectrist have been without the all the gigs that offered employment to bands for dances, weddings and anniversaries? And, since the dark day of the DJ had yet to dawn, music-making was digital only in the anatomical sense. If your alcohol-fuelled, family feud-ridden, acrimony-filled function needed musical accompaniment, it had to be either live or lacking. Hence the opportunity to fill your Ryman’s career-to-view diary with two or three jobs per weekend, a fortnight of pre-Christmas office orgies and well remunerated New Year’s Eve descents to the depths of Auld Lang Syne, The Conga, and Twist And Shout. Throw a few hours of teaching into the mix and - Good Golly Miss Molly! - you were earning a living through music. Or The Birdie Song, as we called it.

You and your tuxedo would show up with enough time to find the venue, park where you could and drag a hernia-inducing Fender Twin onstage. Whether the venue was The Dorchester Hotel or the room above The Dog And Duck, the same principles applied. You’d play some tasteful bossa novae and instantly be invited to turn down, even as the first morsel of smoked salmon was impaled on the cutlery.