Man on the Run

It's been pretty wild the past two days.

Yesterday (Wednesday), I played a duo gig with Louis Heriveaux. It was a three hour gig, but we probably only played an hour's worth of music. If that. Super easy. The rest of the time, we just sat there and talked (while some guy gave a presentation). Super easy. Now for the bad news...in the process of opening the door to my truck and switching hands, I dropped me tenor. In the gig bag, but it got a little messed up--the right hand is not sealing and the bell got bent (easy enough--I bent it back). Nothing that can't be repaired. Mostly I'm just feeling like an ass for being casual and dropping my horn.

Today was another two gig day. I played a trio gig with Tyrone Jackson and Tommy Sauter in Gwinnett from 6-9. The toughest part of that was the traffic (which was terrible with all the rain, and trying to be out there at 5 PM). After that, I jumped in my truck and boogied down 85 (again in the rain) to the 10 High for Yacht Rock. We played well, but most people stayed away. Let's hope it's because of the weather! I would like to elaborate, but it's 4:15 AM and I'm going to bed.

No gigs this weekend. What a weird month! All these gigs stacked up during the week, but this will be my second weekend with nothing.

The Weekend

This weekend was pretty easy. Friday I taught a few lessons. Nothing in particular to say about it.
Saturday was also pretty straightforward. Jack had a t ball game. That night I had a wedding reception--jazz quartet plus a singer. It was a wonderful alternative to the usual "we exist to serve you" sort of ass-kissing wedding gigs to which I've grown accustomed. We set up, we played, they dug it, and it ended. A three hour gig. No big deal. Why can't they all be that relaxed? Also, the food was awesome.
Sunday brought a recording session...the new Platnumb demo. No big deal. I sat in the control room and played EWI (strings and synths) on some stuff, and saxophone on two tunes. Done in an hour and a half. After that, I taught a clarinet lesson and hit my church gig.
I tried to stay up and watch the football game, but I fell asleep at half time. I'll probably have no better luck tonight.

Branford Marsalis on teaching

Survival

I made it through Thursday night's double-whammy unscathed.

My first gig last night was a little trio hit at Neiman Marcus in Lenox Square Mall. I never understood what it was for--I think it was some sort of private party for high rolling customers. We (Tyrone Jackson and Tommy Sauter) were stationed in the men's department next to a bunch of extremely high priced Tom Ford clothes. Nothing much to report other than our self-amusement.
I need to learn some new tunes. The three of us have played these sort of gigs for years now, and so I know what tunes we know in common, but since the two of them are more "on the jazz scene" than I am, I'm not picking up newer tunes as quickly as they are. I usually bring charts of things I want to try, but I was traveling light due to the fact that I had to run out the door when the gig was over.
Speaking of which, when the gig ended, I boogied on out of there (I had a half hour to get from Lenox to Va. Highland, park, get in, pull my horn out, turn everything on, change clothes, and get on stage). Unfortunately, a security guy who looked like one of my cousins stopped me and said I had to check in with "LP" before leaving. LP? I was totally confused. All I could think was "Latin Percussion." Finally it dawned on me, so back down the escalator, back through the labyrinth to "LP" so some lady could look in my gig bag. Then they wanted me to go out through the employee's entrance, which would have put me in the tunnel (the tunnel faces where Tower Records used to be in the Around Lenox shopping center). Bad! I was parked right outside the front door! She finally let me go back out the front, so back up the escalator, past my cousin the security guard, and away I go. All that B.S. cost me eleven minutes that I needed.
I got to the 10 High at 10:22 PM. The gig starts at 10:30. I made it, but just barely. I could have used those eleven minutes!

The Yacht Rock gig was pretty sluggish. Both of our front guys are out this week, so Ganesh sang for Pete and Greg moved off bass and sang for Nick. We had Donny come and play bass and sing. He did very well. The feel of the show was pretty uneven...it felt like we had a bunch of subs. Personally, I had no disasters, other than I Just Wanna Stop, which was an audible that I didn't want to hear. If you follow this blog religiously, you may recall that we played that tune for two back to back shows in July (a 10 High and Andrews gig), and I never got comfortable with playing the string part. I was always a chord behind. So hearing "I Just Wanna Stop! ...two, three, four!" was not good. I did what I could but it was pretty much the same results as July. I did not fare well with the orchestra, let's say. So it goes. Live to play another day...
The crowd seems to be turning up later and later. For a while we were pretty packed before we started, and then it would thin out as the night went on. Lately it's been getting thicker right around when we go on break.
Also, I would be remiss if I didn't point out my love of curvy Italian-looking women. Viva Italia!

The Easiest Gig I Ever Did

I had a duo gig last night that was supposed to be four hours long. It was a private dinner for about ten super VIPs in town for a business meeting. We were to provide the music during the cocktails before and after the meal.
Louis Heriveaux and I played the gig. Louis has become one of the finest jazz pianists in town, and is also one of the coolest, most laid back guys with whom you could ever hang out. Good thing, too. We played from approximately 6:30-7:05 PM, and then the crowd went in to eat. At that point, we were on break. Louis ran to a McDonalds to get some food to eat with the medicine he's taking. When he returned, we continued to stand by until the guests returned around 9:40 PM. When then played two tunes and they all got back on their mini bus back to the hotel. We were finished at 9:55 PM. I don't think we made it through ten tunes the entire evening.
So what did we do between 7 and 9:40? We hung out, talked, talked on the phone, text messaged the world. I guess Louis' medication made him sleepy, because for a while there while we were talking, he'd say something, and as I was responding to him, he'd fall asleep. In a minute or two, he'd wake up and we'd repeat (he speaks, I speak, he sleeps). This went on for a half hour, I'd bet, before he finally shook it off. While he was asleep, I took a picture of him.
Easiest gig ever.
I've got two gigs tonight (a jazz gig at Neiman Marcus in Lenox from 7-10 PM and then my usual Yacht Rock hit). Let's hope the race from Lenox to Virginia Highlands is an easy one.

Labor Day work

I had the weekend off (in other words, I didn't work Saturday night). It felt like it went by in about twenty minutes. I cleaned house Saturday afternoon. Sunday morning I got up and drove to Peachtree City to pick up Jack. Then we went to my parents' house and got my baseball glove and fishing pole. All of the sudden it was Sunday afternoon and I was trying to keep Jack occupied for the couple of hours before my church gig. We went swimming--I felt like I was jumping over the side of the Titantic. When I came up from underwater, I expected ice chunks to be floating around me. We swam for a little bit (and I did get used to the cold water) and then we walked across the street and tried fishing. I threw the line out and it settled, and Jack declared "This is taking FOREVER!!" We crossed back over and went swimming again (still cold).

I went and played my church gig. Nobody was at church. Nothing else to report. I wore my other new suit. I looked good.

Sunday night I watched Quantum of Solace and Frost/Nixon. Both were pretty good. I'm not sure what Quantum was about, but it sure looked cool. Frost/Nixon is one of those where I think it was good, but I could easily be persuaded that it was merely average.

I woke up late in the morning today (Monday). After some standard computer stuff (reading the news), I took Jack and Reggie to my parents' house. I then headed into Buckhead for a recording session for a guy named Jesus (not like "Hey Zeus", but like "Jesus Christ"). I played flute stuff on a very somber tune. We (Jesus, me, and producer Greg Lee of Yacht Rock fame) worked on it for about an hour and a half. I'm not sure what it was about, but it was in G. I played some pads and some real basic ideas that kind of floated along.

I went back and hung out with Jack, Reggie, and my parents. We ate hamburgers. We went for a walk.

I'm watching the Miami/Florida State game. It's a shame how these programs have changed. When I was in high school (in Florida), both teams had some of the fastest, most freakishly athletic guys in college football. I'm talking about Jimmy Johnson's teams, and Deion's stretch in there. Now they look like really good high school teams. Weird. I think Florida State will win.

I love you Erin Andrews.

I'm thinking Slumdog Millionaire tonight. Maybe.

It's Gotta be the Shoes

The dressing room for Andrews Upstairs is up above the stage, and you can look out and see how the room is filling up before you go on. It's a small, hot room with a couple of couches, a mini fridge, and a restroom. We sat up there last night, worried because there was nobody on the floor in the twenty minutes or so before we started. It turns out that we were ok, though, because the bar in the other room was full and people were steadily filing in. By the time we got moving, it was pretty good. Not the most packed ever, but pretty thick. We have noticed that lots of our regular fans have been missing in action, but there are still plenty of new ones turning up, so that's cool.

Musically, it was a pretty solid night. For some reason, other people in the band actually put me in their monitor mixes last night. Usually I am ignored in that regard, but everybody threw a little bit in there, and that was cool. From my perch on the stage, I'm kind of isolated from the overall wash of stage volume, and you really can't hear my speaker except for where I am and where Greg is (more or less right in front of me).
I think the second tune we played was a C major scale. Just for the silliness of it, we played a two octave C major scale. I made it all the way to the end with no mistakes. I don't think the crowd appreciates our humor.
I had a couple of mistakes on the keyboard stuff--nothing major. At the end of Don't Go Breakin' my Heart, I accidentally landed on a sharp 11 chord (a Freudian jazz slip?). Oops. The sound gets so loud in there and it kind of swirls around the room, and it's hard to hear things like strings. On the other hand, I could look at my hands and see my finger on the B natural...
I picked up my alto for Reminiscing, and the first note I tried to play didn't come out at all. I guess my reed had kind of dried out/potato chipped on me, and it didn't vibrate at all. Not good! I desperately drooled on the sucker and it got going again. That sort of freaked me out--I wondered if the tenor reed was doing the same thing.
On The Biggest Part of Me, the headstock of Greg's bass smacked my microphone right at the start of my solo. I think he was more freaked out about than I was--he thought he might have knocked the horn into my teeth. No sweat. It was cool. Once again, I got excited and overblew, but I did play some better stuff than Thursday night (where I overblew and my horn crapped out a little, but I didn't play as many good ideas).
I also had a better flute solo on Lowdown than Thursday night, although the Thursday one wasn't a bunch of crap. In general, when I can hear myself really well I play better (and don't overblow), and playing flute on the front corner of the stage, I can hear the mains so well that I can clearly know what I'm doing.
We have a history of adding a bunch of breaks on Somebody's Baby, and Mark Cobb has been delaying the downbeat coming out of each break by a little bit more. I got to laughing about it so much that I screwed up some of my piano parts.

Things did come to the breaking point with the volume of the room. The constant complaint we hear from friends that come see us at Andrews is that the sound is DEAFENING. Greg finally went back to the sound man and ordered him to back the volume down (I think the demand was thirty percent less), and it made a huge difference. The room volume gets so loud that the front line mics start to pick up the noise and create a feedback loop. And really, overall it's just too loud even before that starts happening. This isn't KISS, it's smooth 70s, and too loud isn't cool--it's uncomfortable. So the second set was not as violently noisy, and we played better. Hopefully it will stay that way in the future. I've said it before--the sound guy can kill the band.

I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Yacht Rock as an official endorsement. We are somehow hooked up with Sebago! Our free boat shoes arrived yesterday. Mine are the old school brown with the white soles. What's next? A cocaine endorsement?

The Captain is Drunk

Yacht Rock was weird last night. We added Hot Child in the City, which was cool--nice to add a new tune, and it went over well. We'd worked out the ending (the full length version, not the version that ends with just voices), but when we tried it on the gig, somebody tripped and it all went to hell for about five beats and then Mark Cobb counted us back in. Woah!

The on stage sound last night was kind of weird. It was like there was no bass and very little highs, so there was just this midrange-y thing. It's not that we were playing poorly (in the first set), but it just felt weird. I don't know what else to say. Some nights the sound is really full, but tonight it seemed kind of empty.

On the break, several band members shared a round of "car bombs"--liquor dropped in a beer (like a sake bomb). Let's say that the second set did not go particularly well. Lots of random (and bizarre) stuff going down. At one point (about three or for songs in), Ganesh called it over the mic--"ladies and gentlemen, we are drunk." And that was how it went from there on it.

It's hard to say how it sounded overall. I played pretty well, and Mark Dannells played some terrific guitar stuff, and past that I really don't know. It was hard to hear the bass. Mark Bencuya's keyboards are always fine--he's one of those guys who might mess up, but you never hear the mistakes. Mark Cobb was all over the place--some good and some out of control.

We're at Andrews tonight. I'm hoping for some magic! We (Yacht Rock) are always making excuses for the crowd--it was full because school's back, it's not full because all the summer people went back to school, it's full because nobody wants to come see us at Andrews, it's not full because everybody's waiting to see us at Andrews. Last night was a little thinner that usual, so that must mean it's going to packed tonight! I'll really be fine either way. I'm more interested in having some really good musical moments. There's some boredom seeping into our show.

Wednesday White Guy

I did a jazz gig tonight with Jace Honage down at Centennial Olympic Park. We were part of a series called "Wednesday Wind Down." It was cool; Tyrone Jackson brought me on board for this one. The drummer was Henry (I can't remember his last name), and the one and only Ramon Pooser on bass. My first real jazz gig in months. I was pretty amped up about it. Tyrone is one of my favorite people both musically and personally; I hadn't played a gig with Ramon in probably ten years; I'd never met Henry (or Jace).

I showed up at the park and I was the only white guy for miles around...so this is how it feels! Years ago I did a gig with a singer in Augusta in a nightclub where I was the only caucasian. Also quite an expericence! Alot of feeling like I have to prove myself.

On to the gig. We opened with two instrumentals, Yes and No and The Chicken. I played both like my life depended on it--maybe not such a good thing. I find that when I haven't done a jazz gig and then I jump up and have to play something like that, I tend to spray notes, and my mind races along. It's like trying to watch the bullets come out of a machine gun. I get excited and I try and push the musical energy around instead of playing ideas. It usually takes me about three or four tunes to settle down. By then, the instrumentals were over and we were into the gig. Everything went well. We had fun and the band sounded really good. Jace said she got a few gig offers based on this show, so with any luck there will be more.

And jeez...Tyrone was on fire! The best pianist in town, bar none. That guy can do ANYTHING.

Sunday into Monday

Sunday was sort of a weird day. I got home from my experience at The Earl, cooled off for an hour or so, and went to bed. I think I woke up late in the morning on Sunday. It was hard to tell because of the rain. Anyway, I unloaded my gear from the car, took it upstairs, and reset for my gig that night. I ate, showered, and it was about time to head out the door.

My gig Sunday night was me on saxes and flute, Wayne Viar on percussion (that's Wayne up there in the pic), and Jeff Burnisky on turntables (?)--he's a DJ. Basically the idea is that he supplies the groove and the vibe, and then Wayne and I play over the top of it. It works--people eat it up. The only problem is that the turntables never get tired (and never stop), so it's hard to figure out how to take a break, so I end up playing for three hours straight!

This gig featured parking validation, which is a beautiful thing. We were told to valet, so I did. I took my validation to the valet, and they said, "That'll be $15." I said, "How much without the validation?" She said, "$20." I said, "So it's almost worthless." She said, "Every little bit helps, I guess." I was not happy with that. I wasn't going to tip the guy who brought my truck around...I wasn't happy with the validation and I only had a $5 bill in my wallet, but I thought, not his fault. So, my truck came around and I gave the guy my $5 (my "validated parking" has now cost me $20!), and I get in and the seat has been pushed all the way back and the side mirror has been pushed out of position! I nearly jumped out and asked for my $5 back. That was a low blow.

Monday night was the usual stuff. The most expensive babysitter I know.

I'm getting ready for some sort of pseudo-jazz gig in Centennial Park this Wednesday night. I'm playing with a woman named Jace Harnage from 7 to 8. There are charts to write and charts to read, and it's been eating up my time. Some things are Natalie Cole and some things are Jill Scott. I now know that I am not a Jill Scott fan. The rest of the band is Tyrone Jackson, Ramon Poozer, and Melvin Jones (plus a drummer of whom I do not know). Good band! I've got to start getting comfortable with this stuff so I don't suck.

Double Dippin'

Last night I double dipped.

First off was the Platnumb gig. I'm already a bit foggy on the details. We played a wedding at the St. Regis Hotel, a room in which I'd never played before. It was pretty. The whole place looked and smelled like a Restoration Hardware Hotel. Lots of Bentleys, Ferraris, and a Lamborghini out front. As far as the band went, our bassist John bought a new pedal and it sounded awesome! Lots of crazy, funky noises coming from over there. I loved it.

At one point, the stage was flooded with people from the crowd, and some idiot lady came up between me and my music stand, squeezed through, took the neck of my tenor in her left hand and the music stand in her right, and pushed them apart so she could pass through. Not cool. Not cool at all. That was about the spot where I almost lost it.

Once I finished that one, I jumped in the car and raced down to East Atlanta to The Earl or the CD release of Attractive Eighties Women. I walked in, pulled out my horn, and went to work. It's funny (to me) that I began the night playing Chicago Song , trying to play really precisely, and then I ended the night playing random shrieks and squeals on a song I'd never heard before. After I finished with the AEW, I stayed to watch their final couple of songs. Lots of weird stuff went down. The lead singer poured a beer over himself. He took swallows of another beer and spit them straight up so it went everywhere. Some guy in the front had a watermelon, and he threw it on stage (and it broke). The band threw the watermelon pieces into the crowd. It was returned. The lead singer rubbed watermelon all over his face. The whole time, the rest of the band was playing twice as loud as anything else on the planet. It was nuts. Then encore included a bunch more people singing on stage, and that gradually morphed into the fast part of Free Bird. It was totally bizarre. Not my thing, but the place loved it. At one point, everyone was singing "She broke my heart/WALK THE PLANK/ARR ARR ARR!!!!"

I got home around 2:30 this morning.

I've got another gig tonight. Me and a DJ and a percussionist.