One year ago today: November 1, 2020, I like Bluetooth.
Five years ago today: November 1, 2016, that “thermos hot”.
Nine years ago today: November 1, 2012, approaching 9,000 miles.
Random years ago today: November 1, 1982, many identical issues.
Today’s post is dominated by the gig last evening. My study of the event is intense, but short-lived. Once small decisions are made, move on. So the immediate aftermath is the best time to catch me. Plus, it saves me deciding what was important today and saves you from hearing about that shed, already. Oh, you’ll get more shed news as the Bidenistas are not letting up on their tyrannical demands for the virus shot, but those who have not complied by now are not going to without the use of force. I’m beginning to hope there is a real hot incident, but that it happens around DC and the source of these insufferable liberal AOLs.
I may have pushed the band over their confidence level, but I’m also a past master at making that look like part of the show. The gig was a success, first for making good money and last for securing us that all-important “paid practice” location. This club doesn’t pay well, but I don’t expect that on Sundays. There was $53 in the tip jar, meaning this gig paid me three times more on average than the Hippie. Shown here is a typical scene with typical clientele. We played the standard four hours and I believe this puts a real incentive into the band, but they lack that one almost vital element: stage time.
I should word that more carefully. Some of them have plenty of stage time, but they don’t learn from it, they don’t process the lessons learned. I had not set out to do this circuit, but anything is better than no gigs at all, so I comply. There was a lady rep there from, don’t quote me, the Elks, which is a huge organization in these parts. The band had no business cards or blurb sheets, so I dipped out to my van. If that lady calls back, peeps, a hundred bucks a person is not unrealistic with their budget. What? Explain? Okay,
the Elks, instead of a dozen little spots around the county have five or six big locations, which by
Florida standards is huge.
Other things that went okay despite the confusion are bit parts that favored me. Hey, unlike all the liars out there, I admit to having ego and it needs feeding. I shone if only because the others did not. The stage was long and wide and the dancers crowded the small area in front of me. Something was wrong with the acoustics, I could not get the bass amp to stop “booming” but it made little difference to the company.
What went wrong. Everything, but I told you about stage presence. I just make it look like part of the show. To have fun in a band, you must make money, and to make money there are many yes-or-no ways to do things. What I say are not so much mistakes as bad decisions. The difference is, few people are ever forced to make mistakes. Bad decisions can easily be caused by circumstances. So go lightly here. To start, the band is not adaptable. We had the song lists but did not follow them. The first set, people were eating and did not want fast music.
So the band reverted to playing all the slow music they know, most of which I did not know and had to improvise. I was horrified by some of the mess-ups but after that set, they were satisfied playing that old crap, so away they went with music I’d never heard before. They basically fall apart on stage, reverting to not what they rehearsed, but to what they are most familiar with. I’m always ready when a band does that but it is not music to be proud of.
For the record, as I stepped out the door later today, I heard 16 or 18 distinct gunshots in rapid succession from around a quarter mile to the west. Nothing there but several large empty fields. They were random, but closely spaced and all from one gun by the sound. It resembled pistol shots but I don’t know of any magazine that large. A half-hour later, possibly coincidence, we saw two firetrucks heading that direction.
Restored Spitfire.
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Next, they have some terrible habits that show up. One is comping. On stage, they retrogress to comping. Since all songs are now the same, they don’t tell me what they are playing or give me time to find the sheet music if I even have it. This does not work when it is my turn to sing, which is kind of a bright spot in the mess I’m describing. (I mean this musically, not from the audience perspective.) When I sing, they are forced to wait until I open the lyrics page, then play the song as practiced. The chain reaction here is that my tunes are markedly better presented by comparison. The audience definitely notices that. This photo is for balance, it has nothing to do with music. There are some cans of prepper food beginning to populate the space.
And they picked up on my showmanship, which I don’t say is great, just greater than the surroundings. The band played around a third of the evening’s material without us ever rehearsing it, so they kind of fall apart on stage. I never fall apart on stage, so yes; once again I was in a mini-spotlight of my own. These guys must tighten up or get used to it because I did nothing they could frown on because they asked for a good bass show.
My best material is emerging as Jimmy Buffet, turns out with minimal exertion, I can sing a note or two higher in my natural voice and hit his notes. The pivotal event of the evening was a request. This description is totally from my point of view. A grandmother type asked for “that dance they follow each other like they used to do.” To my horror, the band did not know what a conga line was, and on top of that said they didn’t know any. You never, never, never turn down a request from a grandmother. It just is not done, old boy.
I’m an old rocker, I’ve never played a conga line. But I know one Calypso beat tune, “Party Till The Money Runs Out”. Fair is fair, the band had been making me play unknown material all night, so I launched into it and gave the room a demo of how bass soloing works when you know what you are doing. This roped the band into following me and that conga line was the high point of the evening. Hmmm, have I just learned how to get this band to play my material?
My disgust with comping is no secret. These guys don’t even know they do it but on stage they wildly forget what was rehearsed. That gives me an advantage I intend to pursue. The last thing to go wrong is we were paid by check. Bands are cash only. Or make the check out to yourself and pay us in cash. To my mortification, the other guys did not have the skill set to divide the gate up four ways. I finally walked over there to see what’s the delay. They had decided to “pay the gig money first”, then divide the tips, so they had eight separate piles of money.
They had counted the bills out without regard to the last two piles having the correct denominations, and were stumped because nobody had change for the last twenty. They were discussing settling up next practice when I said no, do it this way. In thirty seconds the cash was done with the extra $2 going to the band leader. They had to think when I said the “over amount’ would never be more than $3 because we are a four-piece. If this was the world, folks, I’d be the crowned monarch by now.
ADDENDUM
Racine County, Wisconsin, with 23,203 voter all having the same phone number, is untouched by the authorities. As I said a year ago, there are no vote police. Nobody to go arrest the wrong-doers. The leftists have spent decades making sure the police work for them and nobody else.
I went out tonight, mostly because I could afford it. I didn’t make a lot, but the extra allows things to reappear on the table. I’ve covered this before, how doing things first class does not cost that much more than economy. The snag is if you can’t even afford economy. Well, I mapped out the shed for electric and I won’t bother with less than real wiring. It’s cheaper to do it right even if I must buy the full 50-foot roll (around $27). The shed is scheduled for two 100W bulbs and eight duplex outlets. We no longer underestimate outlet requirements around here.
And a quick on-line consultation with my people says this band is not special, that the situations can all be handled as ever before. There is always at least one codicil. Here, it is that the songs I sing are done my way. You knew that, but allow me to narrow down what I mean so you know I am no beastie. These guys comped most every song last day.
This included tunes I sing where I come in later. So often by the time I began, they were already playing the wrong tempo and vibe, if I may use such dated terms. We know these guys never really practice on their own or learn anything beyond the easiest way they can do things, so let me intro my own songs. This is something they never knew could be done. It works like so.
Rather than let them muck up my intros, I begin right in playing bass and singing. That compels them to listen to what I’m doing before they come in. Do that wrong, and what can I say? I have initially chosen nine songs for this treatment. There are another couple I must reckon on the lead player (Margaritaville, etc) to bring in. But I notice since all he does is the lead part, I can forget his influence once that is done. He could not strum a song for love nor money. He at best is delaying my intro. Next rehearsal is upcoming Thursday. We shall see.
