September 30th. 2008.Â
It is hard to find words to describe this day. In fact, it is probably the single most important day in my entire musical career. But I didn't know it then, nor did I know it for the next three years at Indiana University. Or the year after college. Or the 9 months waiting tables at a little restaurant called P.F. Changâs in D.C., after my first small taste of a national tour with Gentlemanâs Rule.  However, when I look back on the past 7 and a half years, September 30th is the day that started this wild ride. If I wouldnât have received the news that day, I might be working in a cubicle somewhere right now...married....with a kid on the way. Not saying there is anything wrong with that...but there wouldnât be TV specials, world tours, or MTV articles. Life probably would have turned out a little different...for better or worse. As we get closer to the 20th anniversary of the great institution that is Straight No Chaser, I thought I would go back and retrace the steps that got me to September 30th, 2008. The road to collegiate, and eventually professional a cappella, if you will.
After making the decision to attend Indiana in early 2006, I knew there would be abundant performance opportunities and a sizable music scene because of the large music school and renowned theatre department. However, joining an a cappella group never seemed to really cross my mind. That is until I heard Straight No Chaser. Now picture this, moving from a booming metropolis like D.C. to a small town in the middle of Indiana. It wasnât exactly going to be smooth sailing, so I had to make sure I was well versed in all aspects of midwestern life. One day on a whim I googled âIndiana acapellaâ and came across a myspace page that had a few tracks on it, one of which being âGhost Trainâ. The second the song started and the bass kicked in (props to Charlie and Randy) I was hooked. I knew that I had to be part of this group at some point during my time at IU.Â
As the first few weeks of freshman year went on, I walked out of a class and I saw it. A beacon of light among the dreary hallways of the Music Annex. It was an audition notice for Straight No Chaser. Without thinking twice I raced to a practice room and started rehearsing my favorite song from my high school a cappella group, Jackets Off. The tune was always a hit with students and parents alike, so me being the confident, fraternity pledging little shit head freshman I was, I figured there was no way they werenât going to let me in. Little did I know I was years away from SNC glory.
Walking into the audition, to say I was intimidated is like saying Charlie Sheen has a drug problem. I was shaking out of my boots. Most of the dudes auditioning knew each other from show choir or high school or the frat scene and I was this preppy-ass dude from the east coast trying to crash the party. There was even a quartet of randoms singing âBreakfast at Tiffanyâsâ outside the audition. I was out of my element.Â
When I walked into the room my yellow polo, lacrosse player hairstyle, and boat shoes were met with many blank stares...and when I said I was from D.C., Corey Frye asked me âwhat are you, the Presidents son or something?â... Safe to say I was toast before I even opened my mouth. I sang my verse and chorus and was quickly thanked....and asked to leave. Now I was obviously downtrodden after that audition experience, and quickly swore off Straight No Chaser for the rest of my college career, but something happened that fall. I was participating in Indianaâs Dance Marathon during a weekend in November and Straight No Chaser was one of the musical performances. While a part of me wanted to leave the room and find something else to do, another part of me had to see them live for the first time. After the concert, any anger or repressed emotions I had about not making it into the group vanished, and I was once again determined to be in SNC before I left BTown.
Sophomore year was tumultuous. I had a voice teacher that refused to let me sing pop, or even musical theatre. I was going through a breakup with the girl I lost my virginity to. I was living in a fraternity, one floor above a nightly party. I had gained 40 pounds because of excessive drinking, lack of exercise, and poor diet, and I was constantly sick because of it. I was smoking weed and getting high morning, noon, and night...causing me to perform poorly in most of my classes, voice lessons, and opera workshops. Many distractions were present in my life that inhibited my musical career, and I did not have the will power (see what I did there?) to cut them out. Â So I missed the SNC audition. I was too afraid. I lacked the confidence necessary to get my drunk ass off the couch and go audition. To be honest, I probably would not have auditioned again, but the summer after Sophomore year I got my shit together, was cast in a summer musical in D.C., got more focused about my music career, and attempted to be a bit healthier.Â
I returned the following year confident, excited, and determined to get into Straight No Chaser. My bragging self even told friends in D.C. I was going to be in the group, even though I hadnât even auditioned yet (insert face-in-palm emoji here). I already knew all the words to âFacebook Stalkinââ and âInsomniac.â Somehow I knew I was destined to find my way in.
By the time audition day came around I was more focused than Peyton Manning on game day. I wanted something that would stand out, and make me look like less of a choir nerd than I actually am. So I decided to wear the freshest pair of Nikeâs I had and create a melody to a popular Lil Wayne song, âGot Money.â Nobody thinks of Lil Wayne when they think of collegiate a cappella, so I stood out like a cowboy in Times Square. After my song, most of the guys in the room seemed to vibe with not only my music selection, but also my personality and demeanor. Even though Jesse Townes, someone who became one of my best friends in the entire world later told me when I walked into the room he thought I was âa huge doucheâ....at least I made some sort of a first impression. I expected a callback email shortly after the day of auditions was finished, and sure enough I got one.Â
Now at this point, overly confident frat boy Will started running his mouth again. I was partying late into the night and in my lousy attempt to flirt and impress women, I started bragging to girls that I had been selected as a new member of SNC...even though I still had callbacks to go through that weekend (insert face-in-palm emoji here....again!). Callbacks went smoothly, having passed the interview portion with flying colors and blending as best I knew how during the singing bit. However, I was told that when being accepted into the group, there wasnât an email or even a call...the guys actually came to your place of residence and surprised you in person...as an informal initiation into the group. After waiting up until 3AM, I realized I was not getting that knock on my door. A rush of emotion came over me as I checked my inbox and found yet another rejection letter from the members of SNC, telling me I didnât make the cut. I felt like a failure. I felt like a liar. I felt like I wanted to camp out in my room for weeks.
In the days following my audition, I was busting my ass in the practice room, convinced my a cappella days were over. I was rarely partying and constantly trying to get better at singing opera, the music I was studying at the time. That was all gravy, but I still felt something was lacking in my life. I wasnât truly unleashing my creative potential. That all changed when one Sunday morning Owen Stevenson called me and asked if I wanted to come in the following week and audition for the group again. My heart almost skipped a beat, and my faith in becoming a member of SNC was restored...although admittedly I was a bit apprehensive to tell people I was going back in for an audition. I wasnât going to run my cocky mouth again until I knew I had landed a spot in the group.
When I showed up that week to audition, there were only four guys in the room including me. I got fired up at those odds, because I knew they were taking 2 guys and I knew this time I had a 50% shot at making it. It was basically a coin toss that decided my fate with SNC. After singing a bit and answering some questions, they told me to go wait in the bathroom with TJ Breen. Before I could even open my mouth or introduce myself formally, TJ looked at me with a big smile and said âweâre in.â Now again, I didnât want to get overly hyped up about Teejâs prediction, but inside I felt like I had just crushed 5 Four Lokos and was about to win a Grammy or something. I was pumped. up. They brought Teej and me back into the room and started into this spiel about how they werenât going to end up taking anyone, thanking us for our time and effort, and wishing us the best of luck that semester. TJ rightfully got super pissed and started yelling at them about wasting his time and killing the mood. Just as we were about to leave the room, the guys bumrushed us, yelling, hugging, and embracing us as new members of Straight No Chaser.Â
There it was. The moment that started it all...and the ride had just begun. In fact, it hadn't even started yet. It was like the slow incline of a roller coaster before the first drop. A mixture of excitement, anxiety, and happiness.Â
If there is a moral to this story, it is that there is no right or wrong way to achieve any goal. Many of my brothers got into SNC/Another Round on their first audition. For some it took three, or four, or five different auditions. Some didnât even get in at all. If you want something bad enough, anything is possible. That statement has resonated with me throughout my career in the music industry, and it still rings true today. Nothing worth having comes easy...so take the leap. Be unique. Be you.Â
Most importantly, do what makes you happy.
TO BE CONTINUED
WL