We’ve just said goodbye to the folks at the Seymour Duncan booth. With that signing done and the Heritage jam this morning, I have one more official appearance to make today. As my manager and I navigate towards the Peavey/Budda booth through the thick crowd and overwhelming noise, I think to myself:
Describing NAMM as ‘sensory overload,’ is like describing the Sears Tower as ‘tall.’
If you’ve ever been to a Guitar Center or Sam Ash music store on a Saturday morning, imagine that white noise rumble multiplied indefinitely. Every type of instrument being tuned simultaneously over thousands of people talking, electric guitars squealing, drums pounding, cymbals crashing, acoustic guitars strumming, bases thumping, violins screeching, people singing, keyboards clashing, saxes and trumpets screaming, trombones farting.
At one booth, I notice a high school age kid bashing sound out of a guitar and it sounds painful. I can’t wait to get away. At the next is a duet with two master electric bassists, Victor Wooten (of Bela Flek & The Flektones) and Matt Garrison (of John McLaughlin, Joe Zawinul and Herbie Hancock). It sounds amazing. I stop and watch for a second but we have no time, I have to be signing for Peavey/Budda amps in ten minutes. If I stop and watch every cool jam and try out every piece of gear I like, I’ll never make it. 
Meanwhile I’m getting stopped several times a minute to sign autographs and pose for photos. This will happen all day today and tomorrow. Soon, my fingers will hurt from writing, my eyes will get sore from flash photography, my face will hurt from smiling, my hand from shaking, my ears from the noise, my throat from the dry air and my voice from talking above the din.
I’m not complaining. It’s part of a job I’m very lucky to have. I enjoy meeting all these people who are eager to meet me.
While I’m no ‘household name’ like Bono or Stevie Wonder, both of whom have attended NAMM shows from time to time (I once saw Stevie walking around, it was exciting), in this environment, where guitar enthusiasts are a sizeable portion of the crowd, I get a glimpse into what that kind of fame must be like. You want to pay attention to everyone and be nice to all. But it’s hard when you’re constantly distracted, running late to your next signing/performance, and getting texted by your buddies.
As someone who grew up feeling ‘invisible,’ I wonder if there is some deep-rooted psychological ‘corrective experience’ at play here (what would Mr. Freud say?). And I like being ‘this guy’ much better then the first few times I came to here.
At the first few NAMM shows I attended, I was awkward, shy, overwhelmed and feeling like a ‘nobody.” A young kid completely out of his element, I didn’t know what to say to anyone. I remember going up to booths and just getting a strange attitude from the people there. They didn’t want to talk to me. I was just another kid playing music they didn’t get, ‘thrash,’ which they equated to ‘trash.’ And I didn’t have the social skills to talk to anyone effectively, gear reps, guitar mags or anyone else. Indeed there were so many times that I’d felt I’d said something wrong, was caught off guard, was distracted, unable to stay focused. I’d leave the convention feeling terrible. 
While these early experiences were difficult, a couple very positive things happened as a result. For one thing, I eventually learned to handle it. Like a lot of things in life, you get better with practice and perseverance. By focusing on all the positive elements, I’m really able to enjoy it now. In fact, I feel that in these last few years especially, very positive developments have come out of it on friendship and business levels.
I don’t blame myself for having a hard time with it, early on. I recognize that it is a cesspool, an intense social experiment.
Another positive effect of NAMM was that it helped solidify my musical direction. I can remember hearing musicians like Chick Corea, Mike Stern, John Pattituci, Joey Defrancesco up close. Master musicians who were there for the music, not the imagery. It strengthened my resolve to be someone that was about the music. I felt like these artists were like sacred trees unspoiled by the surrounding pollution of those vying to prove they can play the fastest or dress the loudest.
Today, I’m able to enjoy NAMM largely because I feel I’ve been able to follow that path. Along the way, I feel I’ve become ‘image conscious’ without becoming a caricature of a metal or jazz musician or any other type. I’m so grateful to have come to a place where I can be here and have fun, feel good about who I am, play some good music, hang with some great friends and not feel sorry for myself.
(To be continued)