beely

Seems to me you are seeking a technical solution to a human problem. In fairness to your drummer (I know, I know 🙄), perhaps his use of IEM's and controlling his own mix is preventing him from hearing, quite literally, the scale of the problem. The feedback issue you are experiencing may not be simply attributed to mic volume alone. As someone who also does sound from the stage, I fully appreciate your situation. I sometimes feel that my attention is split to the point I feel I'm doing neither job as well as I would like. I hope you get things sorted out.

Much to my surprise, I'm very much enjoying "Shut up and dance". (Walk the Moon)

Currently compiling a list of no-longer-required music-related items that will be put up for sale in the near future. Then, a chilled afternoon preparing for an unexpected visit to Perth Concert Hall to see Mike and the Mechanics. (My daughter-in-law has taken slightly unwell and can't go).

Oh my goodness, it appears I may have led a bit of a sheltered life. I bought the Ric new in 1978. It was my only bass until the Mustang (current gigging bass) took my fancy around 2014. Hayman Fender Gibson Rickenbacker Fender

I had the good fortune to see Evanescence in Oslo earlier this year. Fantastic bass playing (and singing) from Emma Anzai of Australian band, Sick Puppies.

I have two basses; a Rickenbacker 4001 and a 2006 MIJ Mustang. I know it may seem odd but, sound-and-playing-wise, I’d be hard-pressed to make a choice of one over the other. Emotionally it would be the Ric as I’ve had it a very long time. However, the Mustang is lighter, which I like. It is also shorter, which our singer, who stands to my left, appreciates as she’s less likely to have her ear clipped every five minutes. 😇

Done.

A few years ago at an open mic, the guy who was performing started playing Ryan Adams’ “When stars go blue”. I decide to get up on stage and give him some accompaniment on the bass. He has his capo on fret three, playing in “C”. That makes it Eb but hey, I’m a bass player; I can do this. I decide to ease my way gradually into the song, making it look like it was all part of the plan. When I started playing, something sounded not-quite-right. I quickly realised it was me, playing in the wrong key. It was an honest mistake; one that anyone could make. I mean, who would think that a guitar player using a capo would be tuned down a half-step.

Your situation is so reminiscent of my own, only you are a few decades behind me. I worked in the printing trade for most of my working life and for a great deal of that period I was working shifts. Not being able to commit to rehearsals, gigs etc made being in a band so problematic that I eventually gave up. I didn’t want to be the “sorry-I can’t-make-the-gig/rehearsal-this-week” guy. I did have a bit of a get-out however. I play guitar and sing, so was able to pick-and-choose solo acoustic gigs without having to rely on, or inconvenience, anyone else. Not quite the same as playing bass in a band but an acceptable alternative. In May 2010 at the age of 55, I was made redundant from what proved to be my final printing job. For the next eighteen months I drove taxis and stacked supermarket shelves (not the worst job I’ve ever had, but I’d place it in the top 1 🙄), continuing to work unsocial, unpredictable hours. In November 2011 I began working for Royal Mail as a postie. Now I had regular hours, generally 6.30-2.30, the first thing I did was to start looking for a band. Nothing came of that search so I started my own band. We have recently celebrated our ten-year anniversary, still having three of the original five members. This is perhaps a slightly long-winded way of saying that the difficulties you currently face are not insurmountable and that life can change in unexpected and, ultimately, beneficial ways. Hang in there; you’ll get back to it.

I think you have accomplished more than you will perhaps, at the moment anyway, realise. Many years ago, 1965 to be precise, I was 9 years old and the only one of a group of pals who didn’t have a bike. As with most families, money was tight and there wasn’t any likelihood of me getting one any time soon. Without letting on to me, my dad, my pop, uncles and so on had scavenged around for bicycle parts; frame, wheels etc. My dad worked away from home at this time, leaving early Monday and returning late on Friday. Sunday night I was packed off to bed and my dad secretly set about assembling this bike. Goodness knows what time he got finished. I got up for school the next day; he had already left for his train, and I found this bike sitting in the kitchen. I’ve never forgotten that moment: “My dad made that for me”. It took many years for the deeper significance to become apparent, but at that point, the moment was enough. I hope in the years ahead, your son will carry with him a similar cherished moment. Bravo Sir.