The Long Game: How Saying Yes to the Right Gigs Can Build a Broadway Career
From bar mitzvahs to black box theaters, the path to Broadway is paved with early yeses, quiet crowds, and the gigs nobody else wanted. Just ask Frank Pagano, Janek Gwizdala—and me.
Reading Janek Gwizdala's recent piece "Saying Yes (and No) with No Regrets" made me think hard about the choices we make as working musicians—and how those early yeses, even the ones that seem small or forgettable at the time, are the building blocks of a career. Not just any career—but a sustainable one. A Broadway one. The kind where people trust you, call you and call you again.
Janek's story is a powerful one. When he moved to New York City in the early 2000s, playing jazz on electric bass was a long shot. Bandleaders would go down a list of 100 upright players before they even considered calling an electric player, and Janek was nowhere near the top of that list. But he didn't wait around. He said yes to every opportunity. No matter how small the check. No matter how weird the venue is. No matter how far it took him from his dreams of playing with guys like Mike Stern or Dennis Chambers.
That "yes to everything" mentality put him in the game, and eventually, it got him the call from Stern. Then came the gigs, the tours, and finally, the offer: a one-off trio date with Stern and Dennis Chambers. Janek's dream gig. But he had to say no. He'd already committed to a six-week tour with Jojo Mayer's band and couldn't ethically back out. And as much as it hurt, he stuck with his commitment.
That "no" haunted him for years. But in time, he ended up playing many gigs with Stern and Chambers. That's the payoff of showing up and sticking it out.
That story reminded me a lot of what Frank Pagano shared during our upcoming Broadway Drumming 101 podcast episode. Frank's another musician whose long résumé didn't come from chasing fame but from saying yes to real gigs with real people. He told me about playing in vans, doing upstate bar gigs, and backing artists in genres he hadn't fully figured out yet. But he showed up. And he delivered.
You can't plan this career in a straight line. You say yes, you do the work, and over time, you earn the right to say no without losing everything.
That's what Broadway veterans have in common. They've played everything. And that flexibility, the ability to play rock, jazz, funk, odd meters, pop ballads, Latin grooves, playing with brushes, locking in with click tracks, understanding vamps, and scene changes, makes you a great player and a reliable one.
It also made me think of one of my early brushes with opportunity that I didn't even realize was happening at the time.
Back in the mid-90s, I was gigging with my band EvilTwins at The Cooler in Manhattan's Meatpacking District. This was before it became a high-end fashion playground. Back then, it still smelled like what it was—a working meat market. Blood in the drains. Grit in the air. But it had a vibe. And we were doing our thing, even if the crowd was light.
Unbeknownst to me, Felicia Collins was in the back of the club, watching us. Yeah, that Felicia Collins—from Letterman, the Black Rock Coalition, and countless heavyweight gigs. Soon after, she emailed me a few times, asking if I wanted to do a gig with her. I didn't know who she was yet, so I kind of brushed it off. Later, I found out the gig would've been with her and Will Lee. Yeah.
That Will Lee. And yeah… I missed that one.
I've run into Felicia many times over the years, but one time, we connected again before a taping of The Late Show. We were both walking into the Ed Sullivan Theater area. She was heading to work, and I think I was on my way to a Broadway show. We stopped and caught up. She looked at me, smiled, and said something like, "You look different now—more wholesome." She wasn't wrong. By then, I had cut off my long dreadlocks, was raising kids, and was deep into my Broadway journey.
That moment reminded me how this industry doesn't forget you. People circle back, and gigs circle back. Missed chances may sting, but if you've put in the work, there are always more opportunities ahead.
Today, I use what I call my "Rule of Three": good music, good people, and good pay. I need at least two of those to say yes to a gig. But when you're starting out, you say yes. You get in the van. You do the low-paying bar mitzvah, the no-budget showcase, or the rock musical in a black box theater. You say yes because every gig gives you the reps, connections, confidence, or clarity.
Broadway veterans didn't start here. They started everywhere. They said yes, showed up, and adapted. And now, after years of doing the work, they can say no without fear and without regret.
If you want to build a Broadway career, it doesn't start on 44th Street. It begins when you say yes to a gig on a random Tuesday night in the Meatpacking District with your hard rock band. Just like I did with EvilTwins. That night, the crowd was maybe ten people deep, but I played like it was 10,000. No holding back. No phoning it in. I didn't know it then, but Felicia Collins was in the back of that club. I didn't end up working with her (yet), but that night put me on her radar. And today, I'm in the same circle of musicians she regularly works with. That kind of fire, that commitment to play your ass off no matter who's watching, is what people notice. Even if they don't say it in the moment, they remember.
And here's the ripple effect: that gig, and others like it, led to me connecting with musicians like Matt Beck. He saw something in me, too.
After playing with him on several gigs at Ramada Inn in New Rochelle on a Friday night, out of all places, he recommended me for a bus-and-truck tour of Footloose, which was my first real show on the road. Then, out of nowhere, he called and said, "Hey, I want you to come off the tour to play tick, tick…BOOM!" That one call changed my path entirely.
You never know who's watching, and you never know which gig will lead to your first break or your next one. But if you keep showing up, saying yes, and playing like it matters (because it does), that long game starts paying off.
That's how you get on Broadway. That's how you stay.
On the next episode of the Broadway Drumming 101 Podcast, my guest Frank Pagano, who has played on Broadway in Escape to Margaritaville, Cry-Baby, The Pirate Queen, Good Vibrations, Big River, Smokey Joe's Cafe, and Leader of the Pack, and Off-Broadway in The Burnt Part Boys said it best, "So say yes. Do the gig. Learn the lesson. Build the network. And eventually, when you've earned it, say no without regrets."
Catch more stories like this in my conversation with Frank on the next Broadway Drumming 101 episode releasing Saturday, May 24. It's a masterclass in the kind of choices that make a career last.