OK - I'm a Star Trek fan/geek/whatever (BIG fan of the original series - not so much of the Next Generation). Not to the point of dressing up like Kirk for ComicCon, but - yeah - I love the show and the movies.
Anyway, the second Trek movie "Wrath of Khan" is a classic. I don't think I'm spoiling the movie for anyone when I say Spock dies at the end. In these days of movie spoiler sites, Quicktime trailers and DVDs something like this wouldn't be a big deal, but I saw the movie at the theater when it opened in '82, and without any advance notice or hints I was genuinely shocked.
At the end of the movie they put Spock's body in a tube/coffin and shoot it to "The Genesis Planet" for his final resting place. Kirk, still grieving, looks to the future and reminds himself that "Spock always said there are possibilities." Kirk then grins and looks almost - confident? - and the movie ends.
My band played a gig on Saturday with a new keyboardist/female vocalist. It was an AMAZING show. We were winging it, as we used a sub guitar player, but it was unbelievable. I haven't felt so good about performing music in quite some time. Whatever we wanted to play we played, with no pressure or worry about being perfect. At times it felt like a free fall, but - although I've never jumped off a building! - I imagine a free fall is scary AND exhilarating at the same time.
We swapped harmonies and verses, sung together and apart and LAUGHED - a lot! - like kids just discovering something really cool for the first time. Props to Rob and Joey - the band's rock-solid rhythm section - for slipping more punches than Mohammed Ali in his prime, and keeping the rhythm fatter than pre-Subway Jared. Knowing you guys are back there holding it down is an amazing comfort, and I appreciate that.
So now? I'm feeling more excited than I have in 25 years of playing music. The band's going to stretch and play different things. We're gearing up to attack the next level in terms of gigs and musicality.
I'm confident, man, just considering the possibilities.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Ice Breaker Ship - aka Singer
Sometimes, life has a crappy way of imposing its will on you. You're making an omelet but you're thinking about a safe that's about to drop on your head. You're painting the fence while a poison-tipped spear's been thrown at your noggin. Or, you're getting ready to play music in front of strangers who expect you to entertain them for a few hours, but you're getting beat up by life's ill-timed shrapnel.
That's the thing, right? Keeping focused on the job at hand - but sometimes that's close to impossible. I have a gig this Friday with one sub and one new member (luckily, both are excellent musicians). These type of weird gigs need a higher concentration level - no skating here. Keeping two strangers and the other 60% of the band on the same page will take some doing, but I just ain't there yet.
The day gig. The fam. The muse who's suddenly gone MIA. All of this is nipping at me like a squirrel eating a buttered corn cob. This is the the danger of having two professions, and although I can normally keep them in opposite corners, I'm having no luck doing that this week. Whereas music is often an "escape" - even though it's actually MORE difficult than the day gig (I'll explain this in another blog) - I'm having trouble getting my head around what the band needs to do because of the heinous stuff unrelated to music soaring around me like Pig Pen's little cloud on speed.
So - I asked myself how to get through this, and my demented head shot back: "Ice Breaker Ship." For those of you who think I've totally fried my noodle - or don't know what I'm talking about - icebreakers are used to punch through and break up thick Arctic and Antarctic ice. They have a steeped hull to rise on top of the ice and then, using the ship's weight and gravity, crush downward through it. Inside the hull is a huge support structure so the hull itself isn't crushed, and powerful engines keep pushing it forward so the ship doesn't break under pressure.
(Yes - you're all gagging because the metaphor's so damn obvious.)
Anyway, that's where my head's going to be for the next day - trying to break through all the crap that's keeping me from focusing on the gig. And if I need help, I know Rob and Joey (Party Jones' esteemed rhythm section) are there to keep me smiling and help the band nail the gig.
That's the thing, right? Keeping focused on the job at hand - but sometimes that's close to impossible. I have a gig this Friday with one sub and one new member (luckily, both are excellent musicians). These type of weird gigs need a higher concentration level - no skating here. Keeping two strangers and the other 60% of the band on the same page will take some doing, but I just ain't there yet.
The day gig. The fam. The muse who's suddenly gone MIA. All of this is nipping at me like a squirrel eating a buttered corn cob. This is the the danger of having two professions, and although I can normally keep them in opposite corners, I'm having no luck doing that this week. Whereas music is often an "escape" - even though it's actually MORE difficult than the day gig (I'll explain this in another blog) - I'm having trouble getting my head around what the band needs to do because of the heinous stuff unrelated to music soaring around me like Pig Pen's little cloud on speed.
So - I asked myself how to get through this, and my demented head shot back: "Ice Breaker Ship." For those of you who think I've totally fried my noodle - or don't know what I'm talking about - icebreakers are used to punch through and break up thick Arctic and Antarctic ice. They have a steeped hull to rise on top of the ice and then, using the ship's weight and gravity, crush downward through it. Inside the hull is a huge support structure so the hull itself isn't crushed, and powerful engines keep pushing it forward so the ship doesn't break under pressure.
(Yes - you're all gagging because the metaphor's so damn obvious.)
Anyway, that's where my head's going to be for the next day - trying to break through all the crap that's keeping me from focusing on the gig. And if I need help, I know Rob and Joey (Party Jones' esteemed rhythm section) are there to keep me smiling and help the band nail the gig.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The Kindness of Strangers
People can be kind - the type of good-hearted, no stings attached niceness that makes you think "hey - there's hope for mankind yet!"
We played a gig last Saturday - a 25th anniversary party in Huntington Beach. Before we played one note it was a great gig. The band was feeling good, the room was terrific, and the guests were cool and friendly.
But more than that, the hosts - and the guests - made us feel like we were there WITH them, not just performing FOR them. We ate with them (UNBELIEVEABLE food - filet mignon, anyone?), shared drinks with them (though I, as usual, stuck with water), had coffee and dessert and TONS of great conversation.
As I've blogged before, this type of treatment is totally unexpected and NEVER a requirement for hiring a band. We're brought in to do a job, much like a waiter or busboy (who work their butts off all night! They're the unsung heroes of many corporate and personal gigs, and I appreciate what they do and how they do it). We're not guests. We're hired to set up gear, sing and entertain, tear down gear and move along. Anything in addition to that is pure gravy, showing a generosity from the hosts that shouldn't be expected, but appreciated.
If - as a cover band player - you're not cool with that...if you expect to be treated like a king or a rock star...pull your head out and get into another line of work.
But I digress. Anyway, after a great night of food, fun and music, the hosts gave us a tip that made our eyes spin. Amazing. And you know what the host says to me? He shakes my hand and says "You guys made this party - and you're underpaid."
Yes, performing cover music is often a grind and can drive you nuts. But the kindness of strangers can make a good night really great - and creates memories I can carry with me for years.
We played a gig last Saturday - a 25th anniversary party in Huntington Beach. Before we played one note it was a great gig. The band was feeling good, the room was terrific, and the guests were cool and friendly.
But more than that, the hosts - and the guests - made us feel like we were there WITH them, not just performing FOR them. We ate with them (UNBELIEVEABLE food - filet mignon, anyone?), shared drinks with them (though I, as usual, stuck with water), had coffee and dessert and TONS of great conversation.
As I've blogged before, this type of treatment is totally unexpected and NEVER a requirement for hiring a band. We're brought in to do a job, much like a waiter or busboy (who work their butts off all night! They're the unsung heroes of many corporate and personal gigs, and I appreciate what they do and how they do it). We're not guests. We're hired to set up gear, sing and entertain, tear down gear and move along. Anything in addition to that is pure gravy, showing a generosity from the hosts that shouldn't be expected, but appreciated.
If - as a cover band player - you're not cool with that...if you expect to be treated like a king or a rock star...pull your head out and get into another line of work.
But I digress. Anyway, after a great night of food, fun and music, the hosts gave us a tip that made our eyes spin. Amazing. And you know what the host says to me? He shakes my hand and says "You guys made this party - and you're underpaid."
Yes, performing cover music is often a grind and can drive you nuts. But the kindness of strangers can make a good night really great - and creates memories I can carry with me for years.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Dodging Bullets, Neo Style
There's something weird/cool/pulse-pounding/whack about facing a bunch of strangers who expect you to do something REALLY exceptional - take them someplace in their past, and do it perfectly.
Cover music, man. It's bizarre! There they are, staring you down like something off George Romero's cutting-room floor, and you're looking back at them while the drummer counts off the song. It's time to nail it - kill the tune, raise the energy level, keep them dancing and singing along while not allowing that bastard Moe Mentum to escape out the back door.
Like most bands, we use a set list to get the wheel spinning. It helps the guitarist get his settings in place, helps the drummer and bass player figure out transitions and lock down the correct tempos and gives us a general roadmap for the night.
But what if the night takes a left turn down Bizarre Road? What if the crowd the night before loved 80s music but this crowd's eating it up like liver and lima bean-flavored ice cream? What if following the set list song-for-song is not only letting Moe get away, but it's killing the poor guy?
THEN it's time to slow things down - figuratively, not literally - and go Wachowski Brothers on the crowd. Bullet time, Matrix style.
What's that mean? Well, if you saw The Matrix (and I know you did), you remember Neo moving so quickly he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He could gauge his every move in a controlled, calm way. Remember him leaning back on his heels dodging The Agents' bullets?
OK - when bad energy comes back at you, go Neo style. Slow everything down in your head. Lean back, dodge, dodge. Don't panic - don't get discouraged. Then, while the band's playing the current song, rewind the past few songs in your head. Pay attention to details - every little foot tap and provocative stare. What worked? What didn't?
After that, do a quick mental review of the songlist while the band's cooking along.
Do all of this in about four or five seconds, but do it so quickly that - to you - you're moving in slow motion and not missing anything about crowd reactions to the previous songs.
This sounds really goofy, but I'm telling you - I've completely changed a set's directions based upon some girl tapping her foot or clapping for a song we played ten minutes before. And it WORKS. So when it works, you go with that road until it stops working, or until the end of the set. By then, you'll probably have the crowd on your side and ready to follow you wherever you want to take them.
(For those of you who want to cut to the chase? ALWAYS think on your feet. OK - I friggin' LOVE the Matrix. Sue me!)
Cover music, man. It's bizarre! There they are, staring you down like something off George Romero's cutting-room floor, and you're looking back at them while the drummer counts off the song. It's time to nail it - kill the tune, raise the energy level, keep them dancing and singing along while not allowing that bastard Moe Mentum to escape out the back door.
Like most bands, we use a set list to get the wheel spinning. It helps the guitarist get his settings in place, helps the drummer and bass player figure out transitions and lock down the correct tempos and gives us a general roadmap for the night.
But what if the night takes a left turn down Bizarre Road? What if the crowd the night before loved 80s music but this crowd's eating it up like liver and lima bean-flavored ice cream? What if following the set list song-for-song is not only letting Moe get away, but it's killing the poor guy?
THEN it's time to slow things down - figuratively, not literally - and go Wachowski Brothers on the crowd. Bullet time, Matrix style.
What's that mean? Well, if you saw The Matrix (and I know you did), you remember Neo moving so quickly he felt like he was moving in slow motion. He could gauge his every move in a controlled, calm way. Remember him leaning back on his heels dodging The Agents' bullets?
OK - when bad energy comes back at you, go Neo style. Slow everything down in your head. Lean back, dodge, dodge. Don't panic - don't get discouraged. Then, while the band's playing the current song, rewind the past few songs in your head. Pay attention to details - every little foot tap and provocative stare. What worked? What didn't?
After that, do a quick mental review of the songlist while the band's cooking along.
Do all of this in about four or five seconds, but do it so quickly that - to you - you're moving in slow motion and not missing anything about crowd reactions to the previous songs.
This sounds really goofy, but I'm telling you - I've completely changed a set's directions based upon some girl tapping her foot or clapping for a song we played ten minutes before. And it WORKS. So when it works, you go with that road until it stops working, or until the end of the set. By then, you'll probably have the crowd on your side and ready to follow you wherever you want to take them.
(For those of you who want to cut to the chase? ALWAYS think on your feet. OK - I friggin' LOVE the Matrix. Sue me!)
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
AKA The Seven Degrees of 7/4
I'm reaching back in my Rolodex-card memory (most of the cards are smudged though!) and thinking about previous July 4th gigs.
America's birthday's always been good to me and my musical crew - financially and otherwise. And it's weird how many friends I've made and gigs I've picked up through this one holiday.
For example: my friend Jack introduced me to Bob and Sue, who'd used a different band every year for their huge July 4 party...that is, before us (well, by "us" I mean me and several incarnations of my band. Wait, wait...in NO WAY am I taking full credit for doing this party every year - I've been blessed to play this gig with some crazy good cats. However, I'm kind of the string holding the years together).
Anyway, one of the guests at Bob and Sue's party was Steve, who throws his own summer bash every year. He now books us for that every year, playing alongside his band - and we have a BLAST. At Steve's party we met several folks who've hooked us up for the Long Beach Auto Show, Long Beach Concerts on the Park and Rancho Los Cerritos community. At the Long Beach Auto Show we met a person who hired us to play their Christmas function, and at THAT function we met someone wanting to book us for HER holiday function the following year!
(ASIDE: this hasn't even TOUCHED upon meeting the wonderful Steve and Jennifer at Bob's party, who've become very good friends - no, make that "part of the Jones family.")
I KNOW I'm forgetting something - and one of these days I'll do the definitive gig tree, which shows where EVERYTHING came from (would Taco Surf be the Tree of Life?). In the meantime, it's interesting and fun to see how much really comes from celebrating the Fourth of July with Party Jones.
America's birthday's always been good to me and my musical crew - financially and otherwise. And it's weird how many friends I've made and gigs I've picked up through this one holiday.
For example: my friend Jack introduced me to Bob and Sue, who'd used a different band every year for their huge July 4 party...that is, before us (well, by "us" I mean me and several incarnations of my band. Wait, wait...in NO WAY am I taking full credit for doing this party every year - I've been blessed to play this gig with some crazy good cats. However, I'm kind of the string holding the years together).
Anyway, one of the guests at Bob and Sue's party was Steve, who throws his own summer bash every year. He now books us for that every year, playing alongside his band - and we have a BLAST. At Steve's party we met several folks who've hooked us up for the Long Beach Auto Show, Long Beach Concerts on the Park and Rancho Los Cerritos community. At the Long Beach Auto Show we met a person who hired us to play their Christmas function, and at THAT function we met someone wanting to book us for HER holiday function the following year!
(ASIDE: this hasn't even TOUCHED upon meeting the wonderful Steve and Jennifer at Bob's party, who've become very good friends - no, make that "part of the Jones family.")
I KNOW I'm forgetting something - and one of these days I'll do the definitive gig tree, which shows where EVERYTHING came from (would Taco Surf be the Tree of Life?). In the meantime, it's interesting and fun to see how much really comes from celebrating the Fourth of July with Party Jones.
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