Beatles

Please Pleaserock Me (the Yacht Rock guys playing the Beatles) did a two night stand at Smith's Olde Bar this past Friday and Saturday, mowing down four sets of music for two very good crowds.

Smith's got a new menu and better food--yay!  On the flip side, the bathroom upstairs is still disgusting.  No soap at the sink either night, and no towels in the towel dispenser Saturday night.  How do all the employees wash their hands before returning to work?

Friday:  

A very easy night for me.  My only disaster of the evening was the little two measure sax solo at the end of Jet.  I couldn't see what I'd written on my chart.  Well, maybe that and Hide Your Love Away.  When the set list was emailed out, I misread it thinking that we'd played that song before, and since I didn't have a chart for it, I didn't even bother listening to it.  Turns out it WAS a new tune with a flute part at the end.  Oops.  Bencuya played the flute part on organ.  I played tambourine on two and four.

One of the best things about this gig is listening to Bencuya play like Billy Preston.  Totally awesome.

Paul Poovey reading down the tambourine part for Happiness is a Warm Gun

Saturday:

An even better crowd and even more fun!

Once again, a pretty easy evening.  We must've had more people in there this night because the air conditioner could not keep up.  Smith's brought in some electric fans to try and circulate the air during the second set.

Smith's was even cool enough to provide a couple of guys at the end of the night to carry gear down the stairs for us.  I didn't have anything for them to move, but the help with the bass cabinet, guitar cabinets, drums, and keyboards was very nice.

Big week coming up!  The Yacht Rock Revival is in Piedmont Park this weekend.

Churchill Grounds

The David Freeman Organ Trio (David Ellington, Henry Conerway III, and me) played Churchill Grounds last night.  Great playing all around--adding Henry to our duo gigs radically changed the way Dave and I play these tunes (in a good way), and pushed us to some really cool places that we wouldn't have gotten to on our own.

Can't Get there from Here/Austin Keeps it Weird

one of the best gig posters we've ever had

Yacht Rock played a show in Austin, TX for the Fourth of July.  The gig was supposed to be an outdoors event in conjunction with a massive fireworks display, but the fireworks were cancelled and the event fell apart, so our party was moved to a club.

We flew out in the morning from Atlanta.  As I was getting off the park and ride bus at the airport, I realized that I didn't have my driver's license with me--I'd left it at home.  There was nothing to do but drive home and get it, meaning I would certainly miss my flight.

At the airport for the second time, I found out that there were no seats available on any flight for the rest of the day in my seat class (or something like that--I took it to mean that there were none left in the same price range that my original flight had been booked).  Great...I had to get to Austin, so I bought a plane ticket on my phone (with my hands shaking so badly that I could barely input my information).  Ever buy a plane ticket three hours before the flight?  Not cheap!  Just as I finished purchasing a new ticket, the counter agent let me know that buying that ticket negated my return trip to Atlanta, so I also had to purchase a return ticket (though they were able to get me on the same flight, in the SAME SEAT! that I was originally going to be in).  And hey, it'll cost $25 for you to check your bag.  Whatever...take my money.  I HAVE TO GET TO AUSTIN.

A very expensive morning...I made it to Austin and got into the hotel lobby with about fifteen minutes before we left to go set up at the club.

The club we were in was new, and maybe not the ideal set up for a live band, particularly one as large and loud as us.  It sure did look cool, though.  The sound was ok;  there were a few weird things like the room shape (we were in a rectangular room on one of the long walls), and the main PA was against the wall behind us (and therefore behind most of the microphones).  People said it sounded good out front, so I guess I'll go with that, though I was also in front of a PA stack and I heard lots of drums and not much of me (particularly the saxophone solos, which felt like I was playing unmic'ed).  I wish we could've brought Kip with us to run sound, though it was the kind of situation that would frustrate him to no end.

We had a small but mighty crowd.  They loved it, though.  Maybe we can come back?

Following the gig, we loaded out quickly while the DJ took over.  Special thanks to the DJ and sound man for putting the DJ table directly on top of Monkey's pedalboard, which did nothing to expedite our exit.  One other particularly strange moment occurred while I was scouring the dressing room for my street clothes--Peter was in there with the promoter (who was sitting in a chair writing us a check), and three guys were right next to him snorting drugs off the counter.

As we were waiting at the front door to leave, some crazy girl was telling us how much she liked the band.  When she got to me, she was almost yelling--"You were doing everything!  Keyboards, sax, singing, and I loved the piccolo!  AND WHEN YOU PULLED OUT THAT FUCKING CLARINET THING (I'm guessing she's talking about the EWI?)!  I felt it down here!" (and pointed to her lower abdomen).  That pretty much sums it up.  Keep it weird.

We exited the club into a street party, and walked a few blocks with our gear (still in our stage clothes) to a nearby Hilton, which was kind of enough to ferry us to our Hilton over by the airport.

After a couple of hours of sleep, we took the shuttle back to the airport, where the line for Delta was almost out the front door.  I barely made it to my flight (speed walking from security directly onto the plane).

What a trip.

Sugar Hill

Yacht Rock played a 3rd of July show last night in Sugar Hill, GA (right near Duluth).  There's no good way for me to get to that part of town--for this one I had to make my way over to GA400, get on at Holcomb Bridge Road, head north for seven exits, and then continue east.  For no apparent reason there was an obscene amount of traffic, and coupled with a GPS failure (insisting on taking me to Creek Road instead of Level Creek Road), a trip that should have taken one hour took two.  I was completely incensed by the time I finally made it.

The guys coming up from Atlanta had similar problems, though, and we all arrived right around the same time.

Load in and set up were uneventful.  We drove across the field and up to the stage.  Kip mixed us, which once again saved us hours of frustration.

This was a fun gig.  I was dreading the heat, but temperatures were pretty pleasant, and a good breeze kept us pretty cool.  The crowd got better as we went.  I'd imagine that it took quite a while for people to get into the park (based on my experience of trying to leave at the end of the night), and maybe no one was too keen on sitting in direct sunlight for two or three hours to hear us.

I had a good show, though Kip reported that my microphone was kind of choppy--maybe a little bit of loss of signal when I was up front for Baker Street.  I think I only picked up a saxophone three times the entire night, so no big deal.

This was the first gig in the history of the band where we played no Hall and Oates.  None.  Zero.  One for the record books.

We packed up during the twenty-three minute fireworks show.  Twenty-three minutes!  Quite a budget.  Very impressive.

What's up with the music selections for fireworks displays?  The Sugar Hill show began with a selection from the band Saliva (I am told), then Toby Keith, and on down the line.  Pretty dreadful.  Eventually they got to Born in the USA, which unfortunately is not the patriotic piece that you think it is.  I bet we'll hear it a few more times before the end of the week.

Blah.

Yacht Rock played someone's birthday party last night in Roswell.  We were in a room unfit for a band.

Personal highlights/lowlights include the heel coming off my shoe, me watching the Braves game on the TV instead of playing about half of the penny whistle solo on Call Me Al, and...I don't know.  I not interested in being at this gig at all.  It didn't help that we played over half the night to an empty room.

The Braves won, by the way.

Eddie's Attic

What a cool gig!  Greg and Nick from Yacht Rock played a gig last night at Eddie's Attic in Decatur which featured their original songs.  The rest of the band (plus or minus Jason Nackers and me) backed them.  It was refreshing to play some different songs, and also to play without the polyester and sunglasses and the YRR schtick.

I played keyboards and a couple of songs and flute on a couple;  I also played saxophone on two of Greg's songs.  It felt like I was REALLY loud on both, but it sounded too good for me to back off.  I'll be interested to see if somebody got audio or video of either to hear what it was like out front.  One was a Sanborn-ish alto thing and the other was a growly Clarence Clemons tenor.

Bencuya's original Cartoon Butterfly was also on the list, and he asked me to play piano in addition to the flute solo.  The adrenaline flowed freely on the piano part, but unfortunately, it caused me to pretty much throw up when I switched to flute.

The highlight of the night for me was hearing Nick play a couple of Y O U songs solo, both of which were mesmerizing.  Fantastic stuff.

Philadelpia

Yacht Rock played a private event in Philadelphia Tuesday night.  I have no idea what it was for.  We flew up that morning.  Hans flew up to White Plains, NY, the day before and drove our gear down to Philly.

Check your phone.

The gig was right inside the front doors of the Museum of Art (the Rocky steps museum).  We didn't have the opportunity to go outside, unfortunately.  It would've been a cool picture of the the seven of us doing the Rocky pose.

The inside of the hall is beautiful and not at all acoustically friendly.  Not a good place to put a band!

The first set started out slow, but the crowd got the hang of it.  By the second set, they were into it.

No problems with my laptop on this night.  I guess that was some sort of random glitch.

My hotel room had a bug problem.  That's my pillow right there.

We flew home Wednesday.  Check your phone.

Please Come to Boston

Yacht Rock played Boston (Cambridge, specifically) for the first time Friday night.  Wow!  Depending on who you talked to, it either sold out or came close (443 people out of a 500 capacity).  Hopefully that will become the next stop on our regular trips to the Northeast.  It was a great night for the band.

The day didn't begin well, however.  We had brought all four keyboards home for an Atlanta gig the night before, and when we checked in at the airport Friday morning, Delta welcomed us with a $200 PER KEYBOARD charge for oversized and overweight items.  There was no arguing with them either.  Nothing like beginning the day $800 in the hole.

Once again Delta arbitrarily interprets the rules--the same four keyboards that we flew from White Plains to Atlanta on Sunday (for $0 extra) now cost us $800 to fly from Atlanta to White Plains.  Can anyone at Delta explain that?

So...we got to White Plains, and hung out for about an hour while Pete and Nick went to retrieve the van and trailer.

The drive from White Plains to Boston was supposed to take three hours, but with traffic and construction and Friday afternoon, ended up taking five.  Ouch!  Quick load in, set up, and soundcheck.  Fortunately, the crew at The Sinclair was awesome about helping us get our gear in the room.  Set up and soundcheck were painless.

Mark Cobb and I took a quick walk around Harvard.

The gig began with a heart attack.  My computer (the brain for my EWI rig) had gone to sleep and wouldn't wake up.  I spent the first few songs (counting down to Hey 19, the first song for which I needed the EWI) trying to play keyboard while diagnosing the problem.  If I couldn't get it to wake up, I figured I'd play Hey 19 on tenor, and then I'd be able to deal with it on the break (or decide what to do about Africa, Rosanna, and Lido).  After frantically hitting the space bar and the power button several times and unplugging and replugging everything, I was about to faint from the adrenaline.  I flagged down one of the crew offstage and said "See if you can get my laptop to turn back on!"  He picked it up and it turned back on.  What the hell?  I plugged everything back in and it worked fine.  Five or six songs later, I'd finally calmed down enough to play the rest of the set.

The remainder of the gig went well--a terrific first night in Boston!  The crowd was a bit heavy on dudes (many of whom were losing their minds with every note we played), but I'm sure it'll even out in the future.  The Sinclair is one of those rooms like The Hamilton in DC where the sound is great, the crew is great, the crowd is great...we'll be back.

The number one fan of the man from Tennessee...

The next day we drove back to White Plains (which I think only took four hours this time), dumped the van and trailer, and flew home--without any gear this time.  TSA did take my backpack apart--I always wonder what they think when they're looking at my ear plugs and saxophone mouthpieces and  spare batteries and USB/MIDI convertor.  The agent said something about my miniature screwdriver, but I couldn't understand her.  Something about how in the future TSA was going to inspect everything in my backpack, which they've never done in the previous fifteen trips.  I'm guessing that just like with Delta, it'll be random--the roulette of traveling with any kind of musical gear.  Goodie.

In Direct Sunlight

Ugh.  Direct sunlight.  I'm not a fan.  Yacht Rock played a gig--a private party of some sort--on the west side of town.  We were tucked in a corner, outside, no stage, no cover.  It was brutally hot at load in.  I was really pissed about letting my gear fry in the sun for several hours, let alone playing a gig out there.

Fortunately, right as we began the sky got hazy, and that kind of saved us.

The crowd looked good, but they were kind of indifferent to what we were doing.  Maybe they were just curious like they'd never seen us before.  Anyway, not a lot of love.

My favorite part of the gig was when a passing train's brakes started squealing at the beginning of Maneater.  Kip thought it was feedback and began frantically searching for it.  The squeal was a B (Maneater is in B minor).  Really loud!