Saturday: I spent last week on vacation (where the most musical thing I did was to quietly mock the Jamaican guitar player on the beach who seemed to know only three chords; he could play your favorite song, but it would always end up sounding like a reggae version of La Bamba). I left the airport and headed directly to my gig for load in (with a quick lunch pitstop). Wouldn't you know it--another private Yacht Rock gig!
Not much to report on this one; we butchered ninety seconds of Fly Me to the Moon, some guy sat in with us and clawed his way through Only the Good Die Young, and at some point early in the second set, most of the groomsmen stripped to the waist and finished the evening shirtless. I mean, this wasn't like the last five minutes of the reception--it was almost an hour of guys bopping around like they were really excited for P.E.
Sunday: Sazerac! We got a slot on Sunday night's Park Tavern concert series. Love the band, love the music. I wish there was one of these for us every month.
 |
| your crawfish boil proportions are a little off |
Here are two clips:
In other news, this year's Yacht Rock Revival has been announced!
