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.

Good Luck Ganesh

Last night we had Ganesh Giri Jaya subbing on drums for Mark Cobb. Ganesh is our good luck charm--he has subbed with us on multiple occasions, and we always do better than usual on the money side. He never fails! Things were pretty smooth. I'm trying to thing of something interesting to say, but nothing really happened. No tragic gear failures, no weird crowd stuff, no nothing. The only distaster I can think of is that in Africa I missed the pedal and messed up the second half of the solo. So that was a bad four measures. That was about it. We did have a near disaster--on the second tune, I slid out into the center of the stage for a solo. At that same moment, Nick pointed in my direction by punching his fist to his right (with the microphone in his hand!). I narrowly avoided getting slugged in the temple! His hand grazed my hat. Woah! That was close.

Practice=Comfort

I practiced alot yesterday. The best day of my life? I wouldn't go that far, but the best day I've had in a long time. I got my clarinet stuff out of the way before my first student showed up. Then I knocked out my flute stuff in the gap between him and the rest of my students. Then I did my sax stuff after supper. In little bits and pieces I played some piano (ok, really I just played Lonely Boy some more, but my hands hit the keys, so it counts).

Practicing for me is all about staying comfortable on the instrument. I want to be able to execute any idea I hear in my head, and I want to make sure that I'm getting a good sound. Practice is a major part of my job, and when I don't get a chance to practice, I'm not doing my job.