Gig Number One: The Yacht Rock Revue played a lunchtime gig at the Galleria, in an outdoor courtyard between the office buildings. We had to be there at 8:30 AM…way early for any band. The load in was down a ramp to the stage--couldn't have been easier, and a welcome change from some of our more recent Battan-Death-March type stuff. We set up, soundchecked/pissed off people who were working, changed, and ate Williamson Brothers BBQ. Hell yeah! It was so good.
The gig was really easy. I mean, daylight and no alcohol on either side of the bandstand could have made for a really rough show, but to me everything was relaxed and very cool. No hassles, no requests for Journey. The weather was great, the sound was good, the band was happy. Great gig!
Gig Number Two: I played with the Yacht Rock Schooner last night at the 10 High. Usually this is the YRR's Thursday night steady gig, but everybody else opted to go to The Flaming Lips concert instead. I did not. I could give you a detailed explanation, but it comes down to this: I am a gig whore. I would always rather play my gig than not. The Schooner filled in for us, and I got to show up and just play saxophone and flute. Easy stuff. Hans (10 High sound man) had me plenty loud in the monitor right in front of me. It was blissful!
The whole thing with the 'go to the concert/play the gig' got me thinking on the way home. I find that I don't like going to concerts very much, particularly large shows. Last night, for instance, The Flaming Lips were playing their album The Soft Bulletin in its entirety. I'm sure it was great--everybody was posting cool pictures, and I know the performance lived up to it. I find myself thinking "so what?" though, about those sorts of things. Afterwards, shows like that are talked about like they were overwhelming experiences, but I never get there personally.
Watching a show never comes close to the craft of performing for me. Maybe I'm looking for the wrong things when I watch other bands play, but I cannot connect to it in the same way a lot of my friends do. I can admire the equipment, admire the technique, but I don't get pulled into it like I'm part of "the experience". The nuts and bolts of actually making music happen is where I am--solving the puzzle, as Bencuya calls it.
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