exercise in diplomacy. That might mean having to “fake another genre” outside Ganz’s beloved alt-country and blues. The week leading into the Lottery she’ll be practicing songs, getting her fingers ready. She’s planning to look through old lyrics and exercise her voice. And yet, with the sagely wisdom that every parent earns the hard way, she is prepared to throw it all out in the negotia- tions of the day, if that’s what needs to be done. “This event is the perfect setup for an anxiety attack,” she says. “I would almost like to be with a group I don’t know at all, just so I know new people. From a comfort level, I’d like to work with someone I know. But I’m just surrendering to this.” Ellie Fern: the musician’s musician Whether intended or not, the Rock Lottery can result in minor musical emergencies. A band might not have a clear lead singer, or it might have four such leaders, with everyone trying to figure out who will be forced into playing bass. Truly fortunate musicians on Saturday. on Saturday will be those paired with a selfless utility player like Ellie Fern, leader of Ellie Fern & The Evergreen. No one would dare keep her crystalline soprano vocals bottled up. Yet Fern’s happy to step back and try on a supporting role for a change. “I’ve collabed with people on a whim or done songwriting sessions with people I’d never met,” Fern says. “I will be singing, probably, regardless if I’m the main person or doing harmonies. And I’m comfortable on guitar and piano. It’d be cool if I’m even in just the rhythm section. I’m just happy to do it.” Not every lyricist thrives under pres- sure, though. Fern’s approach for this boiler room session: snag everyone’s ideas, get them down on paper and don’t stop until everyone has had their say. Then chisel the ideas down to that which is most concrete and undeniable. She admires the focused songwriting approach of John Mayer, who has said that no one can write a damn about a garden but you’d be surprised what you can say about a single flower. “The unknown, and putting yourself out of your comfort zone, really helps new, creative ideas come up,” Fern says. “None of us know what’s going to happen. It could be magic.” Joey Gutos: the rejuvenated songster The curse of being a professional musician, says Gutos, is that the more you play, the more you miss your friends’ shows. The singer-songwriter has also been recovering from professional burnout he attributes to far too much effort on social media and not enough time with a pen and paper. The Rock Lottery, for him, is a chance to write and create for the pure art of it, working with that same talent that he’s missed out on for far too long. “I get over-analytical,” says Gutos. “I have to keep that in check and remember that creating music isn’t a perfect science. There’s no equation with a perfectly balanced left and right side. It’s just expres- sion. If it means something to a ton of people, amazing. If it means a ton to one or two people, amazing.” The challenge he sees for the Rock Lottery musicians is the need to be vulner- able instantly. As five strangers collide and decide to make spontaneous art together, there’s no time for foreplay. They have to convince one another without hesitation that they’re safe enough to sparkle. Then, of course, comes the other curse of a musician: when the lights come on, you’ve got to answer the call. “There is a certain science that goes into being an artist where it’s like, ‘OK, how quickly can I train myself to get into that flow state to where I can make something quickly,” Gutos says. “Nobody is going to slam their head against the wall for eight hours trying to think of one line. But some- times, that’s what it takes.” Sophia Bavishi: the upstart beatmaker Bavishi could coast for a whole career on her lush vocal stylings. In the four years since she released her debut single, however, the young songwriter has gone deeper into building her own loops and beats, pushing herself to think more and more like a producer. Any band lucky enough to have her in their Rock Lottery draw will have a player who looks to enhance any song with a plethora of options with her mighty Ableton Push. “We’re starting the song from scratch, so that is improv,” Bavishi says. “I’ve just been preparing myself a lot by making beats at home and then, on the spot, coming up with a song and not just an idea. My plan is to come in with sounds to create a track over.” She wouldn’t be the first early-career musician to look to the Rock Lottery as a chance to expand her horizons and take daring risks. Bavishi’s songwriting skills still hold some sway. Only now she’s asking herself where her developing talents as a producer might fit, and how to comple- ment an entire band. “This is just about being present and in the moment and being the best artist you can be,” she says. “If everyone understands what each part is, it could really be glued together.” Chaz Fertal: the tinkerer For years, Fertal has dreamt of playing in the Rock Lottery. The saxophonist for The Hourglass Cats has two young kids, and doesn’t get out as much as he once did. It’s altogether too orderly of a life for someone who demands a bit of chaos in his musicianship. “I fly by the seat of my pants a lot in life,” he says, “and this is a great opportunity to do it in the music world.” When he got the call to participate, Fertal says, it felt like being pulled into the Phoenix music scene’s answer to “Saturday Night Live” — a day of racing, rehearsing, rewriting on the fly and then a Winning Combination from p 12 Tyler Matock of Mr. Mudd & Mr. Gold performs with The Stems. (Photo by Jim Louvau) The Scratchers (inspired by the lottery ticket) perform at Crescent Ballroom. (Photo by Jim Louvau) A scene from the Phoenix Rock Lottery in 2017. (Photo by Michelle Sasonov) >> p 16
