The Touring Returns

And just like that, Yacht Rock started touring again like nothing had ever happened.

The first weekend in July found us in the Northeast, beginning with a pair of gigs in Delaware. The van and trailer met us at the airport in Baltimore, but before we could even grab our luggage, the first show had been canceled due to bad weather. 

 

We spent the night in a hotel full of little league baseball players and their families, all of whom seemed to be hanging out in the lobby all the time. I slept a lot and ate two pizzas.

Our second night in Delaware was at the Bottle and Cork. Lots of vibe, lots of people, lots of noise. 

It was sold out, and the crowd was boisterous. It was apparently more than that poor old PA could handle, even though Kip had it pushed to the limit. That being said, I had a good show--everything felt nice and loose.

We added the Isley Brothers version of Summer Breeze and Love The One You're With, and the I cannot ever sing the right words in the chorus--I think it's one of those songs that everybody hears differently. The line "There's a rose in a fisted glove"--I grew up thinking it was "There's a road in a distant flood," which makes no sense with the rest of the chorus, but whatever. I will continue to sing something in between the two until my brain finally gets it right.

At one point, Greg got distracted and couldn't remember the last verse of Southern Cross, and the band vamped on Wipeout while I pulled up the lyrics on my phone, at which point we successfully segued back into Southern Cross. Hopefully it was recorded somewhere for posterity.

Following the show, we drove an hour and a half to Philadelphia. The next morning, we flew to Boston and then took a private van down to the end of Cape Cod. Kip and Hans drove the van up to meet us.

The food we ordered did not make it before the gig, but someone at the venue made us a salad and risotto, and maybe something else.

By the time the gear arrived, the wind and the rain had found us, and the temperature had dropped to around sixty degrees. The gig was under a giant tent, but it was not fully enclosed, and things got cold pretty quickly, even with a rabid audience right up against the stage.

This was an awful gig for me. First of all, my sax mic problem (where there would randomly be no sound) came back, and there was no time to try and do anything to fix it, so I once again spent way too much brain power trying to diagnose it while I was playing. Along with that frustration, my hands got cold and sticky because of the cold and damp, and I messed up the middle two measures of the goddamn Africa solo. I was cold, I was tired, my shit didn't work, the tent sounded bad...AGGGGGHHHH! 

After the show, we had pizza and then drove the two hours back to Boston before we sleeping. The next morning, we went home.

Hans and the gear headed west! On the second weekend of July, we reconvened in Denver and rode out to Boulder to play a birthday party in a very small room in the back of a restaurant. In spite of its size, this place sounded pretty damn good. I got the Africa solo right again, and on a wild guess, I swapped the cable that connects my saxophone to the PA--and I had no sax problems. Hmm. Anyway, things sounded good, I played great, and it felt like I'd redeemed myself.

For dinner, I had a salad, six bananas, a few handfuls of tortilla chips, and a warm chocolate cooke (the cookies were fresh and amazing). I had a bean burrito from Qdoba on the plane. Good times.

We drove to Aspen the next day for a gig at the Belly Up. Spectacular views along the way!

This is a weird place. The room is small (but a sell out is still a sell out!), and the people who come out are there because it's the thing to do, not because they necessarily want to see any particular band.  But whatever--no sax mic problems for two nights in a row, the altitude was difficult but not impossible, and the room sounded pretty good. And I got the Africa solo right.

Yeah, the altitude. My saxophones felt horrible! So dead, so tubby, so resistant. I guess if you're a sax player and you grow up in Colorado, you make equipment choices that help with all this. Bleah.

I passed up pizza for vegetable curry from a Thai place, which was really good, but a long walk away. There I was, racing back to the gig twenty-five minutes before start time with three cups of coconut milk in my stomach.

Onward we travel. Gig number three in Colorado was in Steamboat Springs, so we had quite a bit of riding in the van to get get there (around four hours).

Nearby wildfires made for a hazy sunset, but what a view! Also, the temperature at gig time was right about seventy degrees. It felt great. Even my saxophones felt better.

For social distancing, the audience was divided up onto little drum risers, which worked for most of the show. Towards the end, people gave up and a small gathering formed in front of the stage.

I skipped dinner (we had a late lunch of pizza somewhere along the way). No problems with the sax mic or Africa. I think I'm cured. Easy gig.

Monday morning, we got up super damn early and drove around four hours from Steamboat to the Denver airport, and flew home from there.

Did you know there's a gas shortage in Colorado? Hans does. He says they need truck drivers. This pump wasn't putting out whatever was left in the tank.

We next saw Hans at the Houston airport, where he picked us up to begin the weekend of gigs in Texas.

Up against Emo Night! Our crowd showed up, though--the emos were not as plentiful. So sad.

Not the greatest sounding room, but kind of on par with the rest of Houston. I missed dinner because I got a little lost while I was out for my pre gig run (also, running on a Friday afternoon in downtown Houston in mid July is TOUGH/STUPID!), so I made it through on the Qdoba burrito from the Atlanta airport, three bananas, and chips and salsa. There were probably a few handfuls of trail mix in there, too.

Pretty solid gig, and I was kind of relieved to have my saxophones feel like my horns again.

The next day's run was equally brutal. Lunch really hit the spot, though.

Across the plains of Texas we traveled, finally parking at Emo's in Austin. 

We had a good crowd, and it felt like they were listening. This place is pretty cool (the dressing room impossibly small, though), and they ordered food from a Thai place for us (I had vegetable curry again). 

We flew home the next morning, and I foolishly chose the early flight, which wrecked me for the rest of the day. Stoooopid. Getting up early to get home just isn't worth it.

Since the gigging has picked up significantly, I haven't made as many videos for social media. Here's the one I made for the Fourth of July.

May and June's Triumph and Tragedy

It's time for another "way-too-late" blog update! Only two weeks behind schedule! World class procrastination!

May began with night two of our shows at The Fred Amphitheater in Peachtree City, GA. Maybe not as electric as the evening before, but still a very solid show. Sort of business-as-usual with a lazy soundcheck, a livestream performance of With a Little Help from My Friends for the 500 Songs for Kids Beatles show, chips and salsa, some sort of vegan concoction of rice, beans, and veggies that I brought from home, and solid playing on stage.

The following weekend, I played in a concert production (no acting, just the singing) of Nine at the Cobb County Theatre. The orchestra was stretched all the way across the back of the stage, with the conductor on  one end and me on the other. Luckily, we were all on headphones and the conductor wore a microphone that she used to count in tempo changes. Sill, check out this picture. The conductor is the last head at the end of the line of people on stools. 

I did thoroughly enjoy playing all my instruments, though! Shows are such a terrific challenge! I wish I could squeeze more of these into my calendar.

One more shot, this time with the stools empty, so you can see physically how far I was away from the baton! 

On to the next weekend! Yacht Rock was back at it, this time in Charleston for an outdoor show.

This one was ok. There wasn't much of a connection to the audience, so I couldn't get very excited about it. Let's just say that this was a good warm up for better gigs later in the year.

nice pic of me by Kip, soaking up all that audience vibe from fifty feet away

The following night, we played "The Amp," a really great amphitheater in St. Augustine, FL. This was a GREAT gig, like this was the honeymoon for starting up the Yacht Rock gigging again. Oh yeah. Awesome.

They even had these cool concert posters that we signed for fans. Dig it.

Yeah...we want more of these.

On the next Wednesday, I played a lifestream jazz gig from Venkman's comprised almost entirely of my originals. Holy hell, who would ever willingly book that! It was fun, but maaaaaan, it was tough. My embouchure was not ready for two hours straight, and my brain was not ready for the stress of doing a show, talking to a camera, and then concentrating on my music. And thus, by the time I sat in on Bencuya's show (which followed mine), I was either an idiot, or really wildly entertaining for a half hour.

Joining me in the jazz were Louis Heriveaux (piano), and Tommy Sauter (bass). How cool was that, though, to play my own tunes! And people were digging it!  Very cool. I'd love more chances to do something like this once Venkman's opens back up.

The next Yacht Rock gig was on a former tennis court in Lake Charles, Louisiana. 

Can I bitch about it? The airport was 90 minutes away; the stage was small; it was hot; the people were all Duck Dynasty; we were ignored for the entire time (except that they demanded an encore--really?). As you can see in the picture, we were never threatened with a chaotic mosh pit of smooth music lovers.

On the other hand, we got paid, I squeezed in a good run, and the chef made us all really great food (including the vegan spaghetti and meatballs). Also, Scott Sheriff subbed for Mark Bencuya on this one and played everything perfectly. It's a draw, I guess, and after fifteen months of not playing gigs, nobody's allowed to gripe about it. Definitely a clunker, though.

June was abysmal, so I'm just going to include the one gig I had, and then I'll be ahead in the blogosphere because June isn't even over.

Yacht Rock played a gig in Greenville, SC at the airport--another portable stage and a hot parking lot. This one was awful. We set up and sound checked and everything was good, but on the gig, my sax microphone would not work--the frequency that I was on had a massive dead spot basically all over the stage. I tried about fifty times to rescan and find a different frequency (while I'm also trying to play the gig, mind you!), and the receiver would only suggest one frequency (the one with the giant dead spot). On the fifty-first scan, it suggested a different frequency--yes!--but when I changed my microphones to that one, there was nothing but deafening static. Sooooo, rescan, rescan, rescan, still trying to play the gig, rescan, aaaaaand fuck it. I ended up back on frequency option one and hoped that I could find a spot on stage that worked, but no, so I played into Nick and Monkeyboy's vocal mics. It sucked. I was miserable. I hope that whoever else was on my frequency (a plane on the runway behind us, perhaps) got an earful of obnoxious saxophone.

In other news...here's my social media stuff that I put up in May and June.

First up, a little blowing over the Charlie Parker tune Blues for Alice, with the aim of getting used to a different mouthpiece, and just getting comfortable with the alto in my hands.

Earache My Eye was a special recording for Mark Bencuya's Dr. Demento livestream show. This is from a Cheech and Chong album. 

I also guested on Mark Bencuya's livestream show when he played more of his regular stuff, and we took on New York State of Mind.

My friend Rob Opitz is doing a recording project, and he invited me to play on one of his arrangements. 

I've been working through Bach flute sonatas to help with my playing endurance, and the Siciliano seemed like a good one to capture.