Sunday-Ready on a Monday-to-Friday Schedule

If you’ve ever walked into Sunday service holding a bass (or guitar, or sticks) in one hand and a half-opened POWERMINT (BY DIANA!) in the other, smiling like you’ve had eight hours of sleep when you’ve actually had “two and a prayer”… yeah. Welcome. You might be a “fake musician” too.

And I don’t mean fake like you can’t play. I mean fake, like you have a calendar invite at 9:00 a.m. on Monday morning, but you’re expected to sound like you actually practise every day for 8 hours. Fake like you own at least one nice piece of gear, but you bought it from your many allowances and first dollars made. “Yuh gigging? Noooooo… But yuh want fancy ting”

That’s me. Trinbagonian-bred, day-job-fed, and worship-ministry-led. Some weeks I’m at work answering emails, with 30+ Google tabs open and another tab open for the set list on YouTube at 1.25x speed, headphones on, just to sink everything in.

People think, “Wow, you must practise every day, right?” Here’s the thing: 60-80% of my practice is listening. I look out for tone, feel, dynamics, and what the other instruments are doing. Life has so much to balance, and if you’re going to do that while being a high-level musician, your ears become one of your most important tools.

Sometimes excellence looks like preparation.
And sometimes excellence looks like adaptation.

What I learned (and what I keep relearning)

1. The “fake musician” label is usually just imposter syndrome in a cheap costume.
   If you’re practising, serving, showing up, and growing—how are you fake? Listen, half the Psalms were written by a man who had a day job avoiding King Saul.
2. Worship isn’t a talent and gear showcase, but skill and gear stewardship is still spiritual.
   There’s a difference between chasing the tone like an idol and treating your tools with respect because other people are depending on you.
3. God is not shocked by your limitations.
   He knows you have a job. The beautiful part is that God doesn’t bench you for being human. Like the cliché saying goes, “God doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called.”

Practical takeaways for the day-job musician

• Get the setlist and build a meditation
  Create a playlist and set it on repeat. If you traverse the highway every day like me, you have plenty of time to familiarise yourself—no surprises even if they cut a song.
• Set aside time to learn your craft
  Life is busy, but you can’t go forever with just listening as practice. Buy books and watch videos. If you stay with 2000s skills, we’re leaving you behind, Buhhrooooo.
• Build a “bare-minimum rig” plan
  Tuner, compressor, backup pre-amp. You don’t need all of this—but at least have a tuner to keep your bass in tune.
• Have a 10-15-minute pre-rehearsal ritual
  Tune. Check levels. Pray. “Yuh gotta pray my boi.” Remind yourself: “I’m here to serve, not to prove.”
• Stop comparing your Monday life to someone else’s full-time music life.
  Comparison will drain your joy faster than a cheap 9V battery.

I’m still figuring it out. Some weeks I’m on fire—locked in, tone sweet, spirit steady. Other weeks I’m fighting fatigue, wondering why my fingers feel like they ate cement for breakfast. But I’m learning that faithfulness is a sound too. You can hear it in the way someone shows up prepared, humble, and open.

If this hit home—if you’ve ever felt “not legit enough” but still called to play—drop me a message. Tell me what you’re wrestling with: the imposter feeling, the time crunch, the gear stress. I’d genuinely love to hear your story, and we can remind each other we’re not as alone (or as fake) as we think.