[Author's note 2020: This day is often referred to as my first "solo" gig because I was alone on stage the entire show. I've done short solo style stand-ins before, and played solo bass to a vocalist many times. The significance here is that although it would be another five or so years before I learned to sing, This was the start of my final musical phase. Mistakenly, I presumed being able to sing would make it far easier to find a guitar player. That wasted another five years until 2018-ish.
That was when I attended a series of live shows in Nashville where I heard bad singers doing harmony. This same process [had] got me signing at Karaoke [a few years earlier], I knew even if I was lousy, I could do a better job than these guys. But singing harmony confused the daylights out of me. It took more years to learn to sing along with recordings, and then to play bass at the same time.
I honestly believe this is my final musical effort. It has just taken so much out of me.]
One should always consider the mental state of an area before moving there, and here is a little evidence for anyone planning on relocating to Florida. I’m not saying everyone here is stupid, careless and lazy. Just all the ones you will meet if you leave the house. What other State would allow what you see here? The gap between the pole and the hedge is too small for a bicycle or baby carriage. Even a pedestrian other than a child has to turn sideways to squeeze through. (This photo is from my series called “YourFlorida”, a play on the government site “MyFlorida” which glorifies this place.) Read my lips, “If you move to Florida, you will see this kind of thing every day.”
There is something happening out over the Atlantic. The wind has been from the southeast for days. This cools it down a little. That’s good because I had to spend a lot of time at the computer. That also means I have most of the bizcard pages converted to tables (instead of css, cascading style sheets). I’ve forgotten a few of the finer points and I’ll head in today. There will be lots of coding, but once I have two or three inners (linked pages), I’ll be able to sell it.
I took a break and watched Clint Eastwood in “Escape from Alcatraz”. You know, he even livens up what would otherwise be pretty dry material. It interested me because I am for prison reform. It is the isolation that is supposed to be the punishment, not the other prisoners. All prison movies seem to portray the guards and warden as evil, so I doubt they are making it up. Anyway, I do believe the prisoners got away and the official claim that their bodies were never found is a coverup.
Music class was great, my students have the makings of a small band. This is not lost to the parents. Next week I’m taking along a microphone, finances permitting, as the one of the girls sings in a choral group. She has such a soft voice we cannot hear her over the acoustic guitars. What surprises me is that she knows some of the material we play, material from the 1950s. I was not like that at fifteen and I never even heard of Patsy Cline or Merle Haggard until I was over thirty.
Which brings me to the part everyone I know wants to know. Hello, Marion. Hello, Wallace. Hello, Mitch. Yes, I played my first single gig last evening. That is single, as opposed to solo. I cannot do a solo despite a lifetime of trying to “learn” to sing, and I assure you I did not quit easy on that effort. What I can do is put on a good show, and that I did.
The equipment worked perfectly first time, the setup is less than ten minutes. I had just over two hours of material ready. That will be remedied this week. This tiny pub in the middle of nowhere (but the middle of nowhere is a lot closer to downtown than where you-know-who plays) was a dandy match for the music I play. Lots of thirty-somethings. Very successful for a trial run and they want me back next Wednesday.
Every tune was a crowd pleaser, and I successfully pulled the audience away from TV sports. The bartender on staff called the owner and told him to get over to see this, and the consensus from the crowd was the music was “better than that Karoke”. It is, and I have not transcribed my best material yet. Johnny Cash is a very big hit.
So there is no misunderstanding, I will describe exactly what I do. I take ordinary songs that I find have good crowd appeal. That means other musicians may disagree, but that is not my concern. I correct any tonal or compression errors with my computer, and stretch the tune up to 4 minutes long. A very smart idea I had in the 80s, by the way. Then I remove any sounds below 60 MHz, and punch up the mid range. I burn MP3s onto ordinary CD-RW disks, along with comedy tracks. I play these on stage with a DVD player though my 600 watt PA system. Excellent sound! Then I stand there and play spicy bass licks along with the music.
The crowd reaction was as predicted. At first the “yeah, yeah”, then spinning around on their barstools, then the staff starting to bop along. They quickly catch on they have never seen anything like this before. It is really the choice of music. It is dance music (Foxtrot rhythms) all the way. Very few people pick up that they are hearing, in most cases, a significantly different bass line. This causes them to focus on what I do, for they can never be sure they didn’t miss something on the original cover.
My tips for the evening were $7.50 and three free drinks, which I declined. That compares well with each of the last ten gigs from you-know-who. I am considering posting my net band pay here, looking to increase readership only. My gross pay is nobody’s business, but newcomers and old-timers may be curious what playing music really pays, particularly those old-timers who don’t know what a set of books looks like.
I need more practice but that has always been true. I’ll get started now that I have work. It is nice to know that in the end, no matter how poor the guitarist scene gets in this town, I can pull off an act by myself. My main selling point is that you have never seen anyone read a crowd like me. I didn’t say I was good (although I am damn good at it), only that you have never seen anyone do it like I do. There seems to be nothing I cannot pretend to have in common with anyone and I seem to know something about where they are from no matter where that is. Try me. Ha!