Dudes in bands: They’re creative, laid back, they’re hot, they have great music collections, they’re sensitive, and very often, they’re funny without being as damaged as comedians. What’s not to like? Let’s discuss.
There was the Luke Skywalker look-alike who drummed for so many bands I couldn’t keep track of them all. (Although, as a drummer, does he really count as a musician? Wocka wocka!) Practices and shows took priority over time with me, so I was competing with an unknown amount of other rock dudes probably numbering somewhere in the dozens, and decidedly losing that competition. The drummer boy flaked out on me. He reappeared to apologize profusely for his disappearing act, we had a great discussion over dinner about us, and how we were going to start over and do it right this time because both of us really understood where the other one was at. Then he promptly flaked again. He’s now married to another musician who, it turns out, has also flaked on me.
There was one guitarist boyfriend who was a little too dark and moody, to the extent where he’d wander off from a social gathering. One New Year’s Eve when we had a small gathering of couples visiting, he grew self-absorbed and drifted into another room to noodle away on his guitar, oblivious that he was being rude.
If the musician in question is successful enough, there’s also the on-the-road factor, and he’ll be gone a lot. I remember being thrilled to learn a later guitar-playing bf was going on a mini- tour in Japan. At last! Dating a guy in a band was going to pay off! I could totally tag along! Rock ‘n’ roll! Japan! Then he told me there would be no room for me to stay with them at the tiny Tokyo apartments where the trio would be crashing, and it was too complex a city to navigate on my own without speaking the language. Getting a hotel with the boyfriend was out of the question since he was broke, being a musician and all. I was bitterly disappointed.
If this rock and roll dreamboat is on stage in front of crowds on a regular basis, there are likely to be plenty of other gals lined up behind you, which can mean he’s full of himself and he’ll be less afraid of losing you. On that note, someone once advised: never date a bartender, a doorman, or a musician.
One of my wiser friends put it more specifically: “Don’t date musicians anymore, Colleen.” She felt they were narcissistic and would never cherish me the way I deserved. At first it was a foreign concept: Wait. I don’t understand. Not date the guys I find to be the hottest? It took some adjustment. I had to get it through my skull that musicians doing their thing plus me doing my thing in a relationship setting equaled unhappiness.
The last musician I dated against my better judgment was the biggest flake of all, suddenly deciding he didn’t want our relationship anymore, and he never gave me a reason. I hear he did write a song about it, though. (Is this a plus or minus to dating a band guy? Depends on the song. Without rock love gone awry we wouldn’t have many a classic. “You’re So Vain” comes to mind.)
After my series of dating disappointment, I just wanted someone normal. Someone who had nights free on a regular basis, who wasn’t always turning down invites because he had practice or a show, who wouldn’t try to get away with behaving badly because he’s an artist. I wanted to not have to attend rock shows of my boyfriend’s and his friends’ bands multiple nights a week as part of my girlfriend job description. Ideally this new kind of fellow I was aiming for would keep somewhat regular hours and get paid regularly. It only took nearly fifteen years of dating musicians, and about three or four instances of swearing off them, but I quit that dating bad habit.