Behind the Spotlight: The Bassist's Role in Music and Mission - Oct. 1, 2025

Band rehearsal is on Thursdays. Oh, right — you may or may not know I’m in a band! We’re called The Frontrunners, we play alternative rock music, and Thursdays are our sacred creative time. If we’re not playing a gig, the five of us gather in our well-worn practice space to prepare for upcoming shows, write songs, or reimagine familiar tunes. 

Last Thursday, after a spirited songwriting session, I arrived home to find my husband, Danilo, engrossed in his own musical interests: rewatching Ladies and Gentlemen: The Rolling Stones, the 1973 concert video featuring his favorite band.

The Stones in their prime were another level. Jagger prowls the stage, hurling bars with unfiltered conviction. Richards tears into an extended solo, climbing up and down the neck of the guitar. Then the film flashes briefly to my counterpart in the band, bassist Bill Wyman. 

“They’re not showing him much, are they?” Danilo remarked.

“No,” I replied. “But if he wasn’t doing what he’s supposed to be doing, everything else would sound like a mess.”

In rock bands, the bass is the glue between drummer and ensemble, translating rhythm into melody. The Stones made their mark with wild charisma, gritty licks, and rebellious solos. They jammed, they improvised, they fed off the crowd. But without the rhythm section laying the foundation of the song, that memorable performance would dissolve into incoherent noise. Alternatively, as long as the bassist and the drummer are in lock step, the rest of the band can do their own thing — even go off script — and the music will still feel “right.”

Now, I’m not saying the bass never gets its moment in the spotlight. My inspiration to pick it up, and now my songwriting style, comes from artists like Flea and Geddy Lee, whose melodic lines shape their bands. And my bright red Thunderbird is hardly subtle. But even when the bass takes center stage, it still has one non-negotiable role: stay in the pocket. If the bass isn’t playing in time, the band will collapse. 

I’ve often compared running our band to running a company. Musically, each instrument has a role in creating a cohesive sound. And the music itself is only half the battle. Beyond learning and writing songs, there’s all the logistics, creativity, and project management that facilitates getting our music on streaming platforms, on stage, and in front of audiences.

Last week, watching the Stones with Danilo, I saw another parallel between my role as a bassist and my role with Magenta. Most of what we do isn’t about us taking the spotlight. Magenta’s clients, primarily mission-driven nonprofits, are the ones out front, solving difficult challenges to make the world a better place. They are the performance that moves people. 

In this analogy, Magenta is the bassist, translating the raw rhythm of metrics and data into meaningful stories that resonate. We help organizations define their impact; we craft the narratives that demonstrate results and compel investment. Without that framework, an organization’s impact story can look like a collection of jumbled, unrelated numbers and quotes. Without a strategy to translate data into stories, even the most inspiring work risks getting lost in the noise. 

I love playing bass—and I love being a bassist. I relish the challenge of anchoring with our drummer no matter what distractions unfurl around us. I thrive laying the foundation for our guitars to hook listeners with textured chords and vivid riffs, and for our lyrics to weave through gripping, poignant themes. I love that when I get my piece right, the whole band can soar. 

It’s the same for our clients. When we do our part, your impact strikes a new chord of clarity. And when your impact is clear, your mission commands the spotlight.