by J. R. Practix

Accompaniment: (n.) 1. a musical part that supports or partners a solo instrument, voice or group 2. something that is supplementary to or complements something else, typically food.
Every single week of my life I play in a two-part combo, where we have chosen to focus on my partner’s musical abilities so as to allow some laser-beam consideration for my writing. After all, it would be ridiculous to have two people sharing, with one of the pair appearing to be superfluous.
So even though I play a musical instrument on stage and must perform with equal proficiency as my partner, I find myself viewed as “mere accompaniment.” I honestly do not mind this. Matter of fact, I promoted the concept. I think it’s difficult for an audience to view two people equivalent in capability. We are human beings–we like to compare.
So likewise, unless you are willing to become the accompaniment to an endeavor, you will just be part of a great ego struggle over authority and notoriety–which normally ends up with NOBODY being noticed.
It’s a problem in our society. We are constantly creating new titles, new positions and new ways of communicating the importance of the occupations of those around us so that nobody has to be in the “accompaniment” profile.
There just are times that you lead the band and other times that you load in the equipment. Any band will tell you–they are only as good as their roadies, and any roadie will tell you that he or she does not have a job without the band.
Any singer would be painfully boring without musical accompaniment and any musician would be stuck trying to sell an instrumental CD without lyrics and a vocalist.
Sometimes you have to realize the value of accompaniment. Even in heaven this discussion must go on:  which is the greatest–the Father, Son or the Holy Ghost?
The thing about that particular dilemma, though, is that a long time ago the three of them decided … they are one.