sometimes, a memory will just flood into my head. i saw a drummer throw his sticks into the audience and this is the memory that resulted from it.
many years ago, in a fit of rockstar passion, i threw a pair of sticks into the audience.
over-hand.
hard.
drunk guy walks up to me as i'm packing up, giddy as a 16 year-old girl at a jonas brothers show.
he's got a welt on his forehead, about the size of a large walnut.
he's also got one of my sticks in his hand.
"dude! that was so RAD YOU HIT ME IN THE HEAD WITH YOUR STICK DUDE F*CKIN AWESOME CAN YOU SIGN MY HEAD?"
i kid you not. i could have taken the guy's eye out, and he just wanted me to sign the welt. i apologized profusely, counted my blessings and vowed to never do such a thing again.
i spent the next week praying to God that there would be no phone call from dewey, cheatham & howe, esq.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
you talkin' shit bout mah boi?
in 2005, during the week of halloween, my band played at a club down in orange county. the club is about a thousand feet away from a ntz ntz club whose music is so loud even at that distance that it sounds like moby's right there next to you, screaming at you to be good to the animals.
the ntz ntz club is having a halloween party. 15 year-old girls are dressed in stuff that, were i their father, i would have never allowed on their persons. but that's just me, i suppose, as about 1,000 fathers in orange county seem to disagree with me on this evening.
i've backed the van into the closest space i could find and proceed to start breaking down my kit, when this drunk kid who is all of 21 or something walks up to me and asks if i wouldn't mind if he took a leak in the bushes that the van is parked next to. i tell him i don't care, do what you have to do. so he does.
he finishes up, walks up to kelly, extends his hand, and says, "hi, i'm john."
without missing a beat, kel looks at him and says, "dude - i'm not going to shake your hand after it's been on your dick."
embarrassed, and with girlfriend in tow, he says "oh ... sorry," and walks away.
oh, by the way - this kid is dressed in a radioactive man costume. his girl is pulling off the slutty nurse quite well, but as i've seen about 350 slutty nurses walk by in the past 9 minutes, the wow factor has completely worn off.
my gear is strewn about, as i'm packing everything up. radioactivedrunk decides to have another go at kel, so he returns, this time without nurse betty. he stumbles through my gear, staggers up to kel, and tries again to strike up a conversation.
for some reason, he's under the impression that vulgarities are a surefire way to get into a stranger's pants, so that's the route he takes. kel laughs it off, but after a while, my patience (and his common sense) has worn thin. so, very calmly, in a very quiet voice, i say something like the following:
"john, it's a very, very bad idea for you to keep talking to my fiance' in this manner, and it would be in your best interests to leave. now."
"but..."
"good night, john."
"tsk," and he walks away.
it's about 15 minutes later. i'm now facing away from the crowd as my singer and i are putting stuff in the back of the van.
"there he is!"
"hey, you been talking sh!t about my boy here?"
i turn around, and see that radioactive boy has now been joined by a 5'10", 350-pound batman. also drunk. extremely drunk. and the costume doesn't seem to fit quite right.
my singer and i look at each other, stifle a laugh, and i go to work diffusing this, er, situation. i mean, my going to jail for beating up two drunk superheros is not the kind of story i'd like my son to hear. not until he's 18 or so, anyway.
"why did you talk sh!t about my boy?"
while trying very hard not to laugh out loud, i explain to drunkfatbatman why i politely asked his sidekick to stop speaking to my fiance' as he was. after a few tries, always met with "why you talkin sh!t about my boy," it finally sinks in, i ask radioactive man to apologize, and he does. within 5 minutes, they're fans of the band.
in the meantime, nurse betty walks up to kel and asks, "what was my boyfriend saying? if he said anything rude to you, i'll kill him. i'm so sorry! i'm so embarrassed." she then walks up to me, takes radioactive man by the arm and plaintively asks me, "can we please go now?"
i'm a fairly big guy, and although i'm harmless, i've been told that i can come across as a tad bit intimidating. and it's obvious to both myself and my singer that nurse betty is scared. at this point, i can no longer control my laughter. my singer and i basically lose it in front of everyone.
call me a wuss for talking my way out of it, but i'm too old to fight. there's more to life than spending a night in lockup for beating up a comic book legend and a simpsons character.
the ntz ntz club is having a halloween party. 15 year-old girls are dressed in stuff that, were i their father, i would have never allowed on their persons. but that's just me, i suppose, as about 1,000 fathers in orange county seem to disagree with me on this evening.
i've backed the van into the closest space i could find and proceed to start breaking down my kit, when this drunk kid who is all of 21 or something walks up to me and asks if i wouldn't mind if he took a leak in the bushes that the van is parked next to. i tell him i don't care, do what you have to do. so he does.
he finishes up, walks up to kelly, extends his hand, and says, "hi, i'm john."
without missing a beat, kel looks at him and says, "dude - i'm not going to shake your hand after it's been on your dick."
embarrassed, and with girlfriend in tow, he says "oh ... sorry," and walks away.
oh, by the way - this kid is dressed in a radioactive man costume. his girl is pulling off the slutty nurse quite well, but as i've seen about 350 slutty nurses walk by in the past 9 minutes, the wow factor has completely worn off.
my gear is strewn about, as i'm packing everything up. radioactivedrunk decides to have another go at kel, so he returns, this time without nurse betty. he stumbles through my gear, staggers up to kel, and tries again to strike up a conversation.
for some reason, he's under the impression that vulgarities are a surefire way to get into a stranger's pants, so that's the route he takes. kel laughs it off, but after a while, my patience (and his common sense) has worn thin. so, very calmly, in a very quiet voice, i say something like the following:
"john, it's a very, very bad idea for you to keep talking to my fiance' in this manner, and it would be in your best interests to leave. now."
"but..."
"good night, john."
"tsk," and he walks away.
it's about 15 minutes later. i'm now facing away from the crowd as my singer and i are putting stuff in the back of the van.
"there he is!"
"hey, you been talking sh!t about my boy here?"
i turn around, and see that radioactive boy has now been joined by a 5'10", 350-pound batman. also drunk. extremely drunk. and the costume doesn't seem to fit quite right.
my singer and i look at each other, stifle a laugh, and i go to work diffusing this, er, situation. i mean, my going to jail for beating up two drunk superheros is not the kind of story i'd like my son to hear. not until he's 18 or so, anyway.
"why did you talk sh!t about my boy?"
while trying very hard not to laugh out loud, i explain to drunkfatbatman why i politely asked his sidekick to stop speaking to my fiance' as he was. after a few tries, always met with "why you talkin sh!t about my boy," it finally sinks in, i ask radioactive man to apologize, and he does. within 5 minutes, they're fans of the band.
in the meantime, nurse betty walks up to kel and asks, "what was my boyfriend saying? if he said anything rude to you, i'll kill him. i'm so sorry! i'm so embarrassed." she then walks up to me, takes radioactive man by the arm and plaintively asks me, "can we please go now?"
i'm a fairly big guy, and although i'm harmless, i've been told that i can come across as a tad bit intimidating. and it's obvious to both myself and my singer that nurse betty is scared. at this point, i can no longer control my laughter. my singer and i basically lose it in front of everyone.
call me a wuss for talking my way out of it, but i'm too old to fight. there's more to life than spending a night in lockup for beating up a comic book legend and a simpsons character.
Friday, December 31, 2004
new blog site
i've moved all the "poetry" to another blog site. if you want to know where it is, e-mail me at mailATnickamorosoDOTcom. if i know you (or if you're otherwise real nice), i'll give you the link.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
what's that lyric again?
Friday, November 26, 2004
the end of the rainbow.
a rant, as it were.
i was hanging out with some people a few days ago at this bar in hollywood. this place is known for being the rock and roll bar in town. or was, anyway. its reputation is well-known. the joint's infamous for some serious rock and roll debauchery. i remember reading of bands like motley and van halen holding court there for days in the 80's. the days where i'd hear of the most insane things happening behind those walls.
of course, i was too young to go there back then. but (quite) a few years have passed since i became of legal age, so i'm now able to see some of this first-hand. to be honest, it's not as though i go looking for this kind of stuff. (i don't. really, i don't.) but it is nice to watch it as some sort of cautionary example.
over the years, i've seen the place just turn into nothing more than a travesty with a smoking patio. some of the most depressing people i've ever seen seem to call this place home, and any new blood is only drawn there because of what it used to be. i can't tell you how many times i craned my neck to see someone i thought was someone "famous," only to remember that the person i thought it was now has short hair, doesn't wear their own damn band t-shirt, doesn't weigh that much, and probably wouldn't be caught dead in this place to begin with. i have a feeling that most of our l.a. rock and roll forefathers abandoned this venue a long time ago.
is it a shell of itself? or have i just moved beyond the desires of the everyday l.a. rocker wannabe? surely there's more to life than being a 50 year-old, mullet-wearing, leather pants-stretching, second-hand smoke-belching, ratt t-shirt-wearing has-been who talks incessantly of the "good old days?" is this the shit i get to look forward to in my later years?
nearly all of the people i was with spoke of how out of place they felt there. at the risk of being perceived as some sort of elitist, i must agree. i look at some of the people who frequent this place, and tell myself "don't ever be THAT. don't ever let anyone turn you into THAT."
and as some 4'9" 50 year-old blond with horrible teeth - dressed up like the hooker you always think of when you think of a really hideous hooker - walks up to me and tries to strike up a conversation, all i can do is wonder if she's at this place so often that she gets her mail here.
yeah, that sucked to write as much as it sucks to read. but this is a rant, so i'm keeping it.
sometimes i wonder if being a professional musician is all it's cracked up to be. i mean, it's not exactly a glamorous lifestyle, no matter what one might think (or tell you). the audience sees 1 hour of stage time. what they don't see are the hours spent in rehearsal (rehearsing sucks), hours in vans, hours spent on the side of the road due to broken-down vans, bad motels, bad road food, dickhead club owners/managers/sound monkeys, arguments, bills, etc. and as for money - i'm scraping by every month. the shit you see on eMpTV is so out of reach, and to be honest, i don't know that i'd ever want it anyway. i think i'd rather be poor and true to what i believe, than a wealthy sell-out who doesn't even like what he does anymore.
and that's the thing that i keep coming back to. the inescapable, almost-indescribable thing that i carry with me - the thing i unintentionally and sometimes unknowingly display every time i'm on a stage -the thing that people see the most in my playing:
i love what i do. absolutely love it. every time i'm on stage with my friends, playing music i've helped create - every time i walk into a control room after laying down a successful drum track - every time a student looks at me during a lesson and says, "i get it!" - i am reminded of why i took this sometimes-crazy course in life.
so in the end, i consider myself blessed beyond measure, and i thank my Creator for my blessings.
but let's be honest, people. a little cash wouldn't suck.
i was hanging out with some people a few days ago at this bar in hollywood. this place is known for being the rock and roll bar in town. or was, anyway. its reputation is well-known. the joint's infamous for some serious rock and roll debauchery. i remember reading of bands like motley and van halen holding court there for days in the 80's. the days where i'd hear of the most insane things happening behind those walls.
of course, i was too young to go there back then. but (quite) a few years have passed since i became of legal age, so i'm now able to see some of this first-hand. to be honest, it's not as though i go looking for this kind of stuff. (i don't. really, i don't.) but it is nice to watch it as some sort of cautionary example.
over the years, i've seen the place just turn into nothing more than a travesty with a smoking patio. some of the most depressing people i've ever seen seem to call this place home, and any new blood is only drawn there because of what it used to be. i can't tell you how many times i craned my neck to see someone i thought was someone "famous," only to remember that the person i thought it was now has short hair, doesn't wear their own damn band t-shirt, doesn't weigh that much, and probably wouldn't be caught dead in this place to begin with. i have a feeling that most of our l.a. rock and roll forefathers abandoned this venue a long time ago.
is it a shell of itself? or have i just moved beyond the desires of the everyday l.a. rocker wannabe? surely there's more to life than being a 50 year-old, mullet-wearing, leather pants-stretching, second-hand smoke-belching, ratt t-shirt-wearing has-been who talks incessantly of the "good old days?" is this the shit i get to look forward to in my later years?
nearly all of the people i was with spoke of how out of place they felt there. at the risk of being perceived as some sort of elitist, i must agree. i look at some of the people who frequent this place, and tell myself "don't ever be THAT. don't ever let anyone turn you into THAT."
and as some 4'9" 50 year-old blond with horrible teeth - dressed up like the hooker you always think of when you think of a really hideous hooker - walks up to me and tries to strike up a conversation, all i can do is wonder if she's at this place so often that she gets her mail here.
yeah, that sucked to write as much as it sucks to read. but this is a rant, so i'm keeping it.
sometimes i wonder if being a professional musician is all it's cracked up to be. i mean, it's not exactly a glamorous lifestyle, no matter what one might think (or tell you). the audience sees 1 hour of stage time. what they don't see are the hours spent in rehearsal (rehearsing sucks), hours in vans, hours spent on the side of the road due to broken-down vans, bad motels, bad road food, dickhead club owners/managers/sound monkeys, arguments, bills, etc. and as for money - i'm scraping by every month. the shit you see on eMpTV is so out of reach, and to be honest, i don't know that i'd ever want it anyway. i think i'd rather be poor and true to what i believe, than a wealthy sell-out who doesn't even like what he does anymore.
and that's the thing that i keep coming back to. the inescapable, almost-indescribable thing that i carry with me - the thing i unintentionally and sometimes unknowingly display every time i'm on a stage -the thing that people see the most in my playing:
i love what i do. absolutely love it. every time i'm on stage with my friends, playing music i've helped create - every time i walk into a control room after laying down a successful drum track - every time a student looks at me during a lesson and says, "i get it!" - i am reminded of why i took this sometimes-crazy course in life.
so in the end, i consider myself blessed beyond measure, and i thank my Creator for my blessings.
but let's be honest, people. a little cash wouldn't suck.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Monday, November 15, 2004
day six - home
~or~
post tour syndrome
when you're on the road, doing what you love, the most depressing thing can be the return home. omarr and i have done enough tours to understand this phenomenon. romanticism of the road, smiling fans and gas station food give way to day jobs, bills and "normal" life.
happily, omarr and i had much to talk about on the way home, and we came home with a million plans. on wednesday, we begin pre-production for our first full-length cd. it's about damn time. we're making t-shirts. it's about damn time. :-) we're planning another northern cal tour for february, we're possibly hooking up a small tour with derivative, and a good friend of mine will be passing our package to his label (in germany). personally i think europe would eat us up. so, omarr and i don't feel too bad to be home. and besides, i've got another great band that keeps me plenty busy, so music's always happening.
all in all, an excellent tour. can't wait to do it again. nite.
post tour syndrome
when you're on the road, doing what you love, the most depressing thing can be the return home. omarr and i have done enough tours to understand this phenomenon. romanticism of the road, smiling fans and gas station food give way to day jobs, bills and "normal" life.
happily, omarr and i had much to talk about on the way home, and we came home with a million plans. on wednesday, we begin pre-production for our first full-length cd. it's about damn time. we're making t-shirts. it's about damn time. :-) we're planning another northern cal tour for february, we're possibly hooking up a small tour with derivative, and a good friend of mine will be passing our package to his label (in germany). personally i think europe would eat us up. so, omarr and i don't feel too bad to be home. and besides, i've got another great band that keeps me plenty busy, so music's always happening.
all in all, an excellent tour. can't wait to do it again. nite.
day five - san francisco
~or~
"i can't believe you got that parking spot here!"
the last show of the tour can be a very telling display of a band's professional prowess. i've found that it can be either the best or worst show of the run. the band is either on fire because they've honed their chops during the previous gigs of the run, or the band is so tired and antsy that they can't really focus. they can't sing as well because they've neglected hydration (or have had too much booze). they can't play as well because they're exhausted (or have had too much booze). they miss their families and beds at home. the reasons are many. i sure miss my son a lot when i'm away, so i can relate.
sometimes, the good and bad vibes come together and create an extraodinary performance.
woke up some time in the early afternoon, after going to bed at around 4am. we all decided to take it easy, as we wanted the last show (san francisco) to be killer. we said goodbye to naomi and left at 4:30.
the makeout room is in the mission, the oldest town in san francisco. i love the mission. dirty and nasty like downtown los angeles. crime everywhere. panhandlers everywhere. hey, i never said i'd live there, people.
we pulled into town at around 8pm, and found a parking spot right in front of the venue.
read the last half of that sentence again. now read it again. if your mouth isn't hanging agape, then you just don't know how nearly impossible it is to find parking in san francisco. especially right in front of your destination. especially in a 15-foot econoline like maggie.
right in front.
anyway, we had originally been scheduled to take the stage at 9(ish), but someone at the club decided to change that. we had been unable to reach the promoter, so we didn't know until we arrived what the revised set time was.
11.
so, the flurry of phone calls began. both omarr and myself had friends in the area coming out to see us, so we of course had to inform them of the change. one of my friends was to drive all the way out from brentwood (about 90 minutes in normal traffic) after getting a sitter for her two kids. that's dedication! obviously, we knew that we were just about to lose some of our draw, but as it was completely out of our hands, we put on our game faces and trudged ahead. in the meantime, we took some band photos.
during the first band's set, we found out that the sound guy was going to do a solo set at 10. very politely, omarr asked him if we could possibly switch set times with him. sound guy looks at omarr like he's covered in something and says, "um, no." 11 it is. cinch the game faces a little tighter, boys.
in the meantime, my good friend phil came out, and that really lifted my spirits. he's a wonderful guy, fellow drummer, and like a brother to me.
11pm. we took the stage to 30 some-odd people. from the first downbeat, i knew something was afoot. it might have been the "f*** you" attitude we wanted the sound dickhead to feel, or possibly just a by-product of the solidarity that you build with your bandmates when you're on the road. whatever it was, it was there in droves.
omarr was stellar, and his singing went above and beyond what i thought he was previously capable of. we were tight. we were powerful. we were on fire. i don't know what it was, but it was unreal. i couldn't help but have this enormous grin on my face for just about the entire set. hell, strangers were smiling out in the audience. people were dancing, clapping along, singing along to our marvin cover. and they bought cd's.
and, amazingly enough, sound dick gave us good sound.
this was, by far, the best gig slow car crash has ever played. and we still can't quite figure out why.
brian decided to roll home tonight with dan and trish, so omarr and i are at a motel in hayward. i get a bed again!
posted on monday night, cause there ain't no dsl line in a hayward motel room.
"i can't believe you got that parking spot here!"
the last show of the tour can be a very telling display of a band's professional prowess. i've found that it can be either the best or worst show of the run. the band is either on fire because they've honed their chops during the previous gigs of the run, or the band is so tired and antsy that they can't really focus. they can't sing as well because they've neglected hydration (or have had too much booze). they can't play as well because they're exhausted (or have had too much booze). they miss their families and beds at home. the reasons are many. i sure miss my son a lot when i'm away, so i can relate.
sometimes, the good and bad vibes come together and create an extraodinary performance.
woke up some time in the early afternoon, after going to bed at around 4am. we all decided to take it easy, as we wanted the last show (san francisco) to be killer. we said goodbye to naomi and left at 4:30.
the makeout room is in the mission, the oldest town in san francisco. i love the mission. dirty and nasty like downtown los angeles. crime everywhere. panhandlers everywhere. hey, i never said i'd live there, people.
we pulled into town at around 8pm, and found a parking spot right in front of the venue.
read the last half of that sentence again. now read it again. if your mouth isn't hanging agape, then you just don't know how nearly impossible it is to find parking in san francisco. especially right in front of your destination. especially in a 15-foot econoline like maggie.
right in front.
anyway, we had originally been scheduled to take the stage at 9(ish), but someone at the club decided to change that. we had been unable to reach the promoter, so we didn't know until we arrived what the revised set time was.
11.
so, the flurry of phone calls began. both omarr and myself had friends in the area coming out to see us, so we of course had to inform them of the change. one of my friends was to drive all the way out from brentwood (about 90 minutes in normal traffic) after getting a sitter for her two kids. that's dedication! obviously, we knew that we were just about to lose some of our draw, but as it was completely out of our hands, we put on our game faces and trudged ahead. in the meantime, we took some band photos.
during the first band's set, we found out that the sound guy was going to do a solo set at 10. very politely, omarr asked him if we could possibly switch set times with him. sound guy looks at omarr like he's covered in something and says, "um, no." 11 it is. cinch the game faces a little tighter, boys.
in the meantime, my good friend phil came out, and that really lifted my spirits. he's a wonderful guy, fellow drummer, and like a brother to me.
11pm. we took the stage to 30 some-odd people. from the first downbeat, i knew something was afoot. it might have been the "f*** you" attitude we wanted the sound dickhead to feel, or possibly just a by-product of the solidarity that you build with your bandmates when you're on the road. whatever it was, it was there in droves.
omarr was stellar, and his singing went above and beyond what i thought he was previously capable of. we were tight. we were powerful. we were on fire. i don't know what it was, but it was unreal. i couldn't help but have this enormous grin on my face for just about the entire set. hell, strangers were smiling out in the audience. people were dancing, clapping along, singing along to our marvin cover. and they bought cd's.
and, amazingly enough, sound dick gave us good sound.
this was, by far, the best gig slow car crash has ever played. and we still can't quite figure out why.
brian decided to roll home tonight with dan and trish, so omarr and i are at a motel in hayward. i get a bed again!
posted on monday night, cause there ain't no dsl line in a hayward motel room.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
day four - redding
~or~
hipsters, we ain't
woke up around 11 this morning. still felt like poop, but not anywhere near yesterday. everyone else went to a greasy spoon down the street for breakfast. i didn't want to chance it, so i hung out at the house, called my son and did some much-needed laundry. i was a bit stir crazy by the time they got back, and when omarr suggested we all go to the park, i jumped at it.
chico's bidwell park is the 2nd largest metropolitan park in the united states, exceeded only by nyc's central park. it was a great walk. i took a ton of pictures, and spent the better part of an hour kicking newly-fallen leaves. autumn is in full swing here, something i don't get to really see in los angeles.
we left for redding at 5:30. it's only 90 minutes away from chico, so we got to the venue pretty quickly.
serendipity is an interesting little joint. it's a coffee shop that hosts mostly singer/songwriters. other than us and another band we we were touring with the last time we came up, i've never seen another band play there; just singers and their guitars. the place basically caters to young hipster types, but most of what we played for were teenagers. lots and lots and lots of teenagers. and being that it's a coffee shop, everyone's right there, up in your grill, just a few feet away. kind of an intimidating feeling.
it's funny - i've played at promise keepers, this men's conference thing, in front of 60,000 people, and haven't felt the least bit intimidated. i play for sold-out crowds at clubs - no worries at all. you put me in a small room with 20 people staring at me from only 5 feet away, and things get weird. i don't know why it works that way, but it always does. even omarr was a little bit on the quiet side tonight.
best way to describe the gig was "ehh." it didn't suck, but it wasn't excellent. we all made a few mistakes. my right hand had apparently decided that it was tired of holding sticks, so it just plain wasn't gonna anymore. i let three sticks fly over the course of 2 songs. and although the audience showed their appreciation by clapping and cheering after every song, the vibe was kind of dead and they didn't seem too interested.
or so we thought, until we found out that we sold 9 cd's. in a room of only 20 or so people. that's inspiring.
on another note - we found out that video from our last show is on serendipity's website. just click on "videos" to view. i'm the guy with a monitor for a head. :-)
on the way back, we drove through this little town called corning. someone remarked on the stars, so we pulled over and got out. corning's a very small farming town, and there were no city lights to impede the view of the heavens.
and then we got lost.
don't know how, or why or where we went wrong, but we did. it took us a half hour to find the right interchange to get to the highway that took us back to chico. we got in at around 1am. we then went to duffy's (yes, we includes me), and had some drinks. as my diet has been mostly milk as of late, it didn't take much time for me to get hammered. i mean hammered. i don't remember anything after brian walked back to naomi's with me.
posted on sunday, because of the last half of the above paragraph.
:-)
hipsters, we ain't
woke up around 11 this morning. still felt like poop, but not anywhere near yesterday. everyone else went to a greasy spoon down the street for breakfast. i didn't want to chance it, so i hung out at the house, called my son and did some much-needed laundry. i was a bit stir crazy by the time they got back, and when omarr suggested we all go to the park, i jumped at it.
chico's bidwell park is the 2nd largest metropolitan park in the united states, exceeded only by nyc's central park. it was a great walk. i took a ton of pictures, and spent the better part of an hour kicking newly-fallen leaves. autumn is in full swing here, something i don't get to really see in los angeles.
we left for redding at 5:30. it's only 90 minutes away from chico, so we got to the venue pretty quickly.
serendipity is an interesting little joint. it's a coffee shop that hosts mostly singer/songwriters. other than us and another band we we were touring with the last time we came up, i've never seen another band play there; just singers and their guitars. the place basically caters to young hipster types, but most of what we played for were teenagers. lots and lots and lots of teenagers. and being that it's a coffee shop, everyone's right there, up in your grill, just a few feet away. kind of an intimidating feeling.
it's funny - i've played at promise keepers, this men's conference thing, in front of 60,000 people, and haven't felt the least bit intimidated. i play for sold-out crowds at clubs - no worries at all. you put me in a small room with 20 people staring at me from only 5 feet away, and things get weird. i don't know why it works that way, but it always does. even omarr was a little bit on the quiet side tonight.
best way to describe the gig was "ehh." it didn't suck, but it wasn't excellent. we all made a few mistakes. my right hand had apparently decided that it was tired of holding sticks, so it just plain wasn't gonna anymore. i let three sticks fly over the course of 2 songs. and although the audience showed their appreciation by clapping and cheering after every song, the vibe was kind of dead and they didn't seem too interested.
or so we thought, until we found out that we sold 9 cd's. in a room of only 20 or so people. that's inspiring.
on another note - we found out that video from our last show is on serendipity's website. just click on "videos" to view. i'm the guy with a monitor for a head. :-)
on the way back, we drove through this little town called corning. someone remarked on the stars, so we pulled over and got out. corning's a very small farming town, and there were no city lights to impede the view of the heavens.
and then we got lost.
don't know how, or why or where we went wrong, but we did. it took us a half hour to find the right interchange to get to the highway that took us back to chico. we got in at around 1am. we then went to duffy's (yes, we includes me), and had some drinks. as my diet has been mostly milk as of late, it didn't take much time for me to get hammered. i mean hammered. i don't remember anything after brian walked back to naomi's with me.
posted on sunday, because of the last half of the above paragraph.
:-)
Friday, November 12, 2004
day three - off
~or~
so yeah, the pizza was a bad idea
day off. we awoke at 11am for a 12pm check-out. dan's girlfriend trish drove up and met us at the motel. we then went to visit sonoma state university, because trish was thinking of transferring there. beautiful campus, but the school doesn't have the courses she needs, unfortunately.
i've been sick to my stomach all day. although delicious, last night's pizza has really jacked up my system. probably because it's the first solid food i've had in two weeks. my stomach said OH HELL NO YOU'RE NOT PUTTING THAT HERE and i've been sorry ever since. i don't know why the script isn't taking hold yet.
we took our time getting back to chico. there's something very awesome about getting in a van with your band, putting the cd player on blast and hitting the road. it's a great experience.
everyone else is at duffy's, a popular standing-room-only bar in town. i'd be there as well, but being that i have apparently turned 80 this week, i'm hanging out at naomi's with my notebook computer, my copy of the alchemist, my mylanta and my walker. good night, kids.
hey omarr - "i got a chinese riddle for you, rhonda!"
so yeah, the pizza was a bad idea
day off. we awoke at 11am for a 12pm check-out. dan's girlfriend trish drove up and met us at the motel. we then went to visit sonoma state university, because trish was thinking of transferring there. beautiful campus, but the school doesn't have the courses she needs, unfortunately.
i've been sick to my stomach all day. although delicious, last night's pizza has really jacked up my system. probably because it's the first solid food i've had in two weeks. my stomach said OH HELL NO YOU'RE NOT PUTTING THAT HERE and i've been sorry ever since. i don't know why the script isn't taking hold yet.
we took our time getting back to chico. there's something very awesome about getting in a van with your band, putting the cd player on blast and hitting the road. it's a great experience.
everyone else is at duffy's, a popular standing-room-only bar in town. i'd be there as well, but being that i have apparently turned 80 this week, i'm hanging out at naomi's with my notebook computer, my copy of the alchemist, my mylanta and my walker. good night, kids.
hey omarr - "i got a chinese riddle for you, rhonda!"
day two - cotati
~or~
life in the land of the street fight
it's interesting: we're taking a lot longer to get to our destinations this time. it might be due to the rain (lots and lots and lots of rain), or the fact that our familiarity with these venues and their locations has led to a more laid-back attitude toward the whole thing. not exactly a problem, but quite possibly something that could get us into trouble in the near future if we're not careful.
if drumming ever leaves the picture for me, i could easily take a gig as a tour manager. i'm that type.
unfortunately, one member of this band isn't, and it's beginning to cause a bit of an issue with omarr and myself. the guy in question is a brilliant musician, but he's got a bit of a lazy attitude towards things sometimes. this is true of everyone, of course, but it can be downright dangerous when you're on the road together. no one is along for the ride out here. there's a lot of work involved, and everyone needs to do their part. this is a team. he's always the last one ready to go, the last one to arrive, etc. anyway, enough of that. it'll all work out.
the venue is called sweet lou's. it's in cotati, about an hour north of san francisco. we've played there twice before, and have always had a great time. they have some of the best italian food on the west coast, and probably the best pizza i've ever had in my life. and even though my throat and chest is now burning with the fury of acid reflux, i had some pizza anyway. some things are just worth the pain.
sweet lou's has yet another claim to fame. it used to be called the inn of the beginning, and was host to some of the people who have made music history. the grateful dead, van morrison, janis joplin, tower of power and tim buckley all used to play there. in the back patio area, there's a section of brick on the ground that spirals out in a circle from the center. the hippies back in the day referred to this bricklaying anomaly as the center of the musical universe.
yeah.
we've personally seen at least one knock-down-drag-out street fight every time we've played here. and it has always happened during our set. it usually begins with "hey! you lookin' at my woman?!?" i guess i never realized what kind of blinding, gutteral rage marvin's "what's goin' on" could incite in people. fortunately, tonight was peaceful and all about the music.
speaking of which - the gig was just amazing. it was put together by a local band here who has an enormous draw. they advertised us as their opening act, so we got a large amount of their folks out to see us. people danced. people smiled. the band gelled.
one of my main goals as a drummer is to make people move on the dance floor. to make heads and butts bob. and bob, they did. quite rewarding for a musician to see. one of those nights where everything just clicks between band and audience, and we go on a sort of musical journey together.
if you like j5, the roots or james brown, you owe it to yourself to check out a band called derivative. they can be found at http://www.derivativesound.com/. just an unbelievable freaking band. three mc's up front, killer rhythm section, horn section from hell. great bunch of guys, too. they thought highly of us and our music, so we're going to be hooking up a tour with them after the new year. i love the way things work sometimes.
since cotati's a 3 hour drive from chico, we're staying in motel rooms tonight. i get my own bed. nice. hope omarr doesn't snore.
3:20am. good night.
posted on friday, as we have no internet connection here.
life in the land of the street fight
it's interesting: we're taking a lot longer to get to our destinations this time. it might be due to the rain (lots and lots and lots of rain), or the fact that our familiarity with these venues and their locations has led to a more laid-back attitude toward the whole thing. not exactly a problem, but quite possibly something that could get us into trouble in the near future if we're not careful.
if drumming ever leaves the picture for me, i could easily take a gig as a tour manager. i'm that type.
unfortunately, one member of this band isn't, and it's beginning to cause a bit of an issue with omarr and myself. the guy in question is a brilliant musician, but he's got a bit of a lazy attitude towards things sometimes. this is true of everyone, of course, but it can be downright dangerous when you're on the road together. no one is along for the ride out here. there's a lot of work involved, and everyone needs to do their part. this is a team. he's always the last one ready to go, the last one to arrive, etc. anyway, enough of that. it'll all work out.
the venue is called sweet lou's. it's in cotati, about an hour north of san francisco. we've played there twice before, and have always had a great time. they have some of the best italian food on the west coast, and probably the best pizza i've ever had in my life. and even though my throat and chest is now burning with the fury of acid reflux, i had some pizza anyway. some things are just worth the pain.
sweet lou's has yet another claim to fame. it used to be called the inn of the beginning, and was host to some of the people who have made music history. the grateful dead, van morrison, janis joplin, tower of power and tim buckley all used to play there. in the back patio area, there's a section of brick on the ground that spirals out in a circle from the center. the hippies back in the day referred to this bricklaying anomaly as the center of the musical universe.
yeah.
we've personally seen at least one knock-down-drag-out street fight every time we've played here. and it has always happened during our set. it usually begins with "hey! you lookin' at my woman?!?" i guess i never realized what kind of blinding, gutteral rage marvin's "what's goin' on" could incite in people. fortunately, tonight was peaceful and all about the music.
speaking of which - the gig was just amazing. it was put together by a local band here who has an enormous draw. they advertised us as their opening act, so we got a large amount of their folks out to see us. people danced. people smiled. the band gelled.
one of my main goals as a drummer is to make people move on the dance floor. to make heads and butts bob. and bob, they did. quite rewarding for a musician to see. one of those nights where everything just clicks between band and audience, and we go on a sort of musical journey together.
if you like j5, the roots or james brown, you owe it to yourself to check out a band called derivative. they can be found at http://www.derivativesound.com/. just an unbelievable freaking band. three mc's up front, killer rhythm section, horn section from hell. great bunch of guys, too. they thought highly of us and our music, so we're going to be hooking up a tour with them after the new year. i love the way things work sometimes.
since cotati's a 3 hour drive from chico, we're staying in motel rooms tonight. i get my own bed. nice. hope omarr doesn't snore.
3:20am. good night.
posted on friday, as we have no internet connection here.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
the first night of the tour.
~or~
how to succeed in soaking your equipment in the rain without really trying
aside from a lot of rain and a couple dozen stops for gas, food and … er … relief, it was an easy drive to our first destination, lasalle’s in chico. our load-in time was 5pm. we arrived a little after 5:20. yeah, well. even though our van (whom we call maggie) is quite large this time around, we found an excellent parking spot. we set everything up, did our sound check, tore everything down and went to omarr’s girlfriend’s house.
naomi lives here in chico. she’s a total sweetheart, and takes excellent care of us every time we come up. there was homemade mexican bbq in abundance, some of my very favorite food. i, unfortunately, was unable to partake of such a glorious spread, because i have been dealing with a stomach-wrenching case of what is known as acid reflux disease. i haven’t been able to swallow much in the way of food for the past two weeks. i'm on a script, but it’s apparently taking its own sweet time to kick in. i had a salad in san francisco last weekend, and that was the last solid food i've been able to handle. with the exception of the wonderful soup that naomi made us, it’s all protein shakes and water here.
as a weight loss method, i recommend it highly. 12 pounds in two weeks. i may try dysentery next.
since omarr lived there for 6 years, chico is like a return home of sorts for him. the guy is KNOWN here. everyone's always stopping us on the street. okay … him.
the club was packed to the gills. everything sounded excellent on stage. a refreshing change, as i've grown very used to seldom hearing what i want to hear when i'm behind my rig. omarr did a stellar job, which is what i have come to expect from a performer of his caliber. dan (keys), brian (bass) and i are extremely blessed to be playing with this guy. he's always an inspiration to me. the rest of the guys aren’t slouches by any means, either. we have a total blast on stage together.
during our set, mr. crafty sound guy decided that strobe lights on the drummer would be an excellent idea. like, for three minutes. straight. now, this is not a terrible idea in theory. i say again - in THEORY. unfortunately, said lights were only 5 feet or so above my head. i had to close my eyes to keep from falling over. after the set, someone remarked on how cool it was that i could play the drums with my eyes closed. :-)
all in all, an excellent first day. working with these guys is always a rewarding experience. the rest of the band are at duffy’s, the most popular bar in town. except for brian, who’s out on naomi’s porch smoking some of the finest pipe tobacco i've ever smelled.
next up - sweet lou’s in cotati.
how to succeed in soaking your equipment in the rain without really trying
aside from a lot of rain and a couple dozen stops for gas, food and … er … relief, it was an easy drive to our first destination, lasalle’s in chico. our load-in time was 5pm. we arrived a little after 5:20. yeah, well. even though our van (whom we call maggie) is quite large this time around, we found an excellent parking spot. we set everything up, did our sound check, tore everything down and went to omarr’s girlfriend’s house.
naomi lives here in chico. she’s a total sweetheart, and takes excellent care of us every time we come up. there was homemade mexican bbq in abundance, some of my very favorite food. i, unfortunately, was unable to partake of such a glorious spread, because i have been dealing with a stomach-wrenching case of what is known as acid reflux disease. i haven’t been able to swallow much in the way of food for the past two weeks. i'm on a script, but it’s apparently taking its own sweet time to kick in. i had a salad in san francisco last weekend, and that was the last solid food i've been able to handle. with the exception of the wonderful soup that naomi made us, it’s all protein shakes and water here.
as a weight loss method, i recommend it highly. 12 pounds in two weeks. i may try dysentery next.
since omarr lived there for 6 years, chico is like a return home of sorts for him. the guy is KNOWN here. everyone's always stopping us on the street. okay … him.
the club was packed to the gills. everything sounded excellent on stage. a refreshing change, as i've grown very used to seldom hearing what i want to hear when i'm behind my rig. omarr did a stellar job, which is what i have come to expect from a performer of his caliber. dan (keys), brian (bass) and i are extremely blessed to be playing with this guy. he's always an inspiration to me. the rest of the guys aren’t slouches by any means, either. we have a total blast on stage together.
during our set, mr. crafty sound guy decided that strobe lights on the drummer would be an excellent idea. like, for three minutes. straight. now, this is not a terrible idea in theory. i say again - in THEORY. unfortunately, said lights were only 5 feet or so above my head. i had to close my eyes to keep from falling over. after the set, someone remarked on how cool it was that i could play the drums with my eyes closed. :-)
all in all, an excellent first day. working with these guys is always a rewarding experience. the rest of the band are at duffy’s, the most popular bar in town. except for brian, who’s out on naomi’s porch smoking some of the finest pipe tobacco i've ever smelled.
next up - sweet lou’s in cotati.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
prologue.
okay. so i'm a musician. not the starving artist type, but not loaded with 4 cribs and 9 whips either, so let's get that shit out da way right now. i teach drums by day, and play/record for a number of artists in the l.a. area. a cd i co-produced/played on last year is currently nominated for best something-or-other at the los angeles music awards.
i live in burbank, about 6 miles north of downtown los angeles. i have one 8 year-old son who lives with his mom about 11 miles away from me. i see him all the time; wouldn't have it any other way. he's my hero. i seldom use uppercase. don't know why. i have two cats. don't know why. favorite band: the who. favorite record: who's next. favorite song: "God only knows" by the beach boys. my favorite albums include "grace" by jeff buckley, "what's goin on" by marvin gaye, "cure for pain" by morphine and social distortion's self-titled. if i could play drums for any band in the world, it'd be social D.
i like to spend time with my hero, read, ride my bike, drive, play music, listen to music, and be with my friends. currently, my favorite city is san francisco.
i leave on a 6 day tour with one of my bands tomorrow. these are some of my best friends on the planet, and a great bunch of musicians. i'm always challenged as a musician when i play with them.
as this could possibly be the one and only time i'll ever post anything here, please go to my website and see a little bit of what i'm about.
n
i live in burbank, about 6 miles north of downtown los angeles. i have one 8 year-old son who lives with his mom about 11 miles away from me. i see him all the time; wouldn't have it any other way. he's my hero. i seldom use uppercase. don't know why. i have two cats. don't know why. favorite band: the who. favorite record: who's next. favorite song: "God only knows" by the beach boys. my favorite albums include "grace" by jeff buckley, "what's goin on" by marvin gaye, "cure for pain" by morphine and social distortion's self-titled. if i could play drums for any band in the world, it'd be social D.
i like to spend time with my hero, read, ride my bike, drive, play music, listen to music, and be with my friends. currently, my favorite city is san francisco.
i leave on a 6 day tour with one of my bands tomorrow. these are some of my best friends on the planet, and a great bunch of musicians. i'm always challenged as a musician when i play with them.
as this could possibly be the one and only time i'll ever post anything here, please go to my website and see a little bit of what i'm about.
n
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