Spotlights illuminate the lead singer as he bellows out heartfelt lyrics on a blackened and bruised stage. The mass of sweaty, smiling fans dances and sings along to the melody, and all seem identical in thought. Everyone, that is, except Andy Dorris.

There is knowledge among the local music scene that while bass players such as Dorris are vital to the life and consistent beat of the band, the role is known to be a lonely but eye-opening one.

“I have a hard time listening to the lyrics, but I do listen for the tonality and bass lines in the music,” Dorris said. “It’s my curse. I don’t get to hear it like other people do, but I can feel the emotion in another way.”

Having been raised around his father’s band, the bass player for Aaron Kamm and the One Drops is now a seasoned vet in his favorite form of art. The rock ’n’ roll, blues, African blues, and reggae-infused band will jam it up at the Yacht Club today from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m.

Why the excessive number of genres all in one pot? Because it works. New cycles of fans roll in, and others stay, but the crowd won’t always want just reggae or just blues for three-hours straight, and neither do the band members.

“It’s how we’ve lasted this long,” Dorris said. “Most bands flake out because their music starts to sound the same.”

However, trial and error peak in the world of artists. The bass player began his journey by walking some tunes for a birthday party at a local bowling alley. A failed band followed those bowling-alley blues until Kamm and the One Drops was sculpted in 2007.

Being in a band and going on tour isn’t always about rock and roll and sex and drugs. It means long hours on the road, fewer hours with one’s family, and prolonged sound checks happening right before interviews.

Genetics literally and metaphorically play a role in Dorris’ lifelong reign of the bass.

“It’s by far the best talent that I’ve been given. Being able to listen to jingles on TV, picking that tone, and then playing it on piano when you’re 4 years old has a lot to do with genetics,” Dorris said. “My dad was never given a chance for lessons. He learned everything by ear. You can work and work your way to it, but the talent will always shine through.”

But, as most biological anthropology classes would say, environment is the rain to the gifts held within humans. Band members were always scuffing the steps that led down to his father’s basement, tracking in talent and energy with them.

Dorris was never to be found playing outside with the other children. He was addicted to the magic of music from the start.