Monday, May 15, 2017

Privacy

More private/corporate gigs for Yacht Rock. Great for the wallet, not as great for the soul (or ego).

Wednesday: The USS Yorktown is permanently docked in Charleston. It's a floating museum, which means that they also host nifty parties for people who want something other than a hotel ballroom.

I'm a sucker for military stuff. Even with a pain in the ass load in, it's still a freaking aircraft carrier, which is cool. This was a clunker of a gig (at one point late in the evening, the wait staff dancing (2) outnumbered the guests dancing (1)). Tom Young subbed for Greg and Ganesh subbed for Nick.

Pics, babe!





He's a real American











































Pretty swank hotel room for the evening.


Friday: Some kind of charity event. Maybe a hundred people in Duluth. On a Friday, it took me an hour and forty minutes to get there. Greg subbed for Nick, and Rob Henson subbed for Greg. No bananas on this one. WTF.


Monday, May 8, 2017

Buckhead and Connecticut

The gigs continue, albeit at a much more relaxed pace. This week: two private parties. Where the fail in excitement, they succeed in compensation.

Thursday: Private party at a ballroom in Buckhead. Not too terrible, but not too exciting. No idea what the party was for. The good news was that I got to go to my house when it was over and sleep in my own bed.

Still loving the Legere reeds! I got an alto reed before this gig, and it's FANTASTIC! Feels great and sounds great--the feedback from both horns is so good that I feel inspired.


Saturday: Up early (6 AM) for a 9:30 AM flight to White Plains, NY on one of those regional jet sized planes. The very limited overhead space makes me, weighed down with saxophones, nervous.

TSA in Atlanta has changed their scanning machinery in the precheck line, so they escorted me over to the regular security and sent me through. It makes me wonder...I guess I should continue to go to precheck and have them take me to the other line so that I can avoid the "take off your shoes, take out your laptop" business? Maybe they'll perfect their system before I have to fly with my horns again. Fingers crossed.

From there, we drove up I-95 to Westport, CT with some insanely inept Uber drivers (our guy very gingerly entered the interstate at 45 miles per hour).

This gig was a birthday party for a friend of the band. If the photo below looks familiar, it's because we've played a gig in this very house before (read about that here). No bar, no barrier this time; eee oh eee oh eee oh.


Nice party for a friendly bunch. We had Steve Augeri come through and sing some of Journey's greatest hits with us again, and he sounded great. I love the Journey stuff. We also gave a pretty inspired rendition of Livin' on a Prayer. Uber was much less terrible on this leg of the trip.

When we got to the hotel, Zach realized he'd left his suitcase (with not only his clothes, but all his microphones) at the party. Fortunately, someone else at the party was also flying out of White Plains, and we agreed to meet up the next morning to collect his bag.

Sunday: Mercifully, we were able to sleep late. 11 AM shuttle to the airport.

Another frustrating experience with TSA (the scanner/ID person seemed to be on a mission to only point and never actually speak to me). Following that, I waited on one side of the metal detector for the agent to look up from her phone long enough to wave me through.

Another flight on the little airplane.


bang

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

One Night Stands

Last week...another week of airplanes, van rides, gear issues, and special shows...and work! We are still gigging hard, but it looks to be slowing down slightly to a more manageable pace. Last week, however, was kind of nuts.

Tuesday: I was making great time on the way to pick up Nick and Bencuya, as we normally carpool to the airport. Suddenly, traffic came to an abrupt halt just south of Moores Mill. Why?


Not good. All lanes blocked. I was definitely not going to make the carpool--maybe I wouldn't even make my flight! The last three miles to Nick's house were projected to take fifty-one minutes. Terror radiated from my body.


After a half hour of sitting/freaking out, the "police activity" cleared, and the traffic sped a way like the start of the Daytona 500.

Average speed on the Connector through town:


Whew! Made the flight.

The camera crew was along for this trip. More documentary footage!


Our first gig of the week was a corporate party in a restaurant in Miami Beach. I had a lot of trouble paying attention on this one.

Before the gig, Matt (who drove our gear to Miami and back), Kip, and I went for a quick walk. The weather was immaculate.




Here's our crazy dressing room.


Anyway...the gig was...kind of mindless. Music after dinner for maybe a hundred people on a Tuesday night, with the band jammed up against a wall. A good snapshot of the night would be the penny whistle (piccolo) solo on Call Me Al, where I tried (out of boredom) to add little flourishes and curlycues and suddenly messed myself up so badly that I couldn't finish the solo.

Post gig, we sat shoulder to shoulder for a quick group interview with the film crew, which made the night that much longer.

Wednesday: This evening's gig was in Florence, Indiana. From Miami, we flew back to Atlanta (because everything connects through Atlanta when you fly Delta), and then out to Cincinnati (where the airport is actually across the river in Kentucky). So...Miami to Atlanta to Kentucky to Indiana (via Cincy). Got it.

the Atlanta layover
 This gig was a corporate party kind of thing (I'm familiar) at a casino in Indiana.

The view from my cigarette stained room. Unimpressive! That's Ohio over there in the trees, by the way.

Giant adirondack chair. Impressive!
 The golf course was at least scenic (and didn't reek of cigarettes). Nice weather.


So...the gig...significantly better for me than Miami, in spite of the horrible Nord Electro 2 that showed up for me. Boo. I missed my keyboard.


This one at least ended pretty early, giving me plenty of down time in my stinky hotel room. For the life of me, I can't understand why I didn't just go and ask for a different room. I bet you can't either.

Thursday: Back to Cincy/Kentucky for the flight back to Atlanta so that we could bang out another gig. Not on this plane, however.


Thursday's gig was a corporate party/reception kind of thing at Venkman's. Nice to be back on our home turf, with our gear. Pretty painless--two sets, and then we could pack the gear back up and go home.

Friday: Purple Rain in Piedmont Park time. We've finally played this album enough that it's not a huge burden to bring it back to the front of our brains. Due to the moderately insane schedule of these two weeks, our only chance to rehearse was...last week. This should be interesting.

One exciting thing: I've been playing synthetic reeds on this gig for several years. Both of my saxophones might possibly sit for an entire set, and then be called upon to work perfectly, and regular cane reeds don't do that well.

I've been using reeds by a Japanese company named Forestone, and they've served me pretty well. My main complaint is that they are wildly inconsistent in terms of relative strength and longevity, and at $20 a reed, that ain't too cool.

The major player in the synthetic reed arena is Legere. They're more expensive (almost $30 a reed!), which makes it much more difficult to trial-and-error several different reed strengths to find the one that fits me. But my relationship with the damn Forestone reeds was in dire straits, so I blew around a $100 on three reeds.

First one...right out of the box...is a player! 2 and 3/4 was a little hard, but totally playable. 2 and a half feels great. I think I'm sold.


On to the gig...all set up in the big tent in Piedmont Park. We took the stage just after 8 PM. Bencuya's top keyboard died (really just the screen, we think, but because he couldn't see any information on the screen, he couldn't locate any sounds). Disaster! Where's ol' Roland Tech Support when you need her?

Fortunately, one of our crew guys, Kip, sprang into action, calling the local backline company to immediately replace the busted synth, and then had another friend deliver it to the park. All the while, we did our best to avoid songs in the first set that needed the dead instrument. Miraculously, we faked a whole set. Bencuya's head almost exploded.

We took a long intermission, and once the replacement arrived and booted up, we were on our way through Purple Rain. Most of the people in attendance had no idea what had happened. Good thing we had a film crew standing by to capture the terror.


Saturday: One more gig. We drove to Savannah for another corporate dinner party. Pretty relaxed after the previous night's tension convention.


Things ended at 9:30 PM. Nice! Party time in Savannah? Hell no. We had individual hotel rooms (with SUPER SHITTY wifi--what is this, 2006?). I was in the bed before midnight. Dig it.

This week...relative calm. A corporate shindig Thursday night in Atlanta, and then a private party in Connecticut. See y'all at the airport.