In which you go out tonight and party!
So tonight’s the big night. Big show at the Best Western in the ballroom, with my new band House 11 and all-the-way-from-New-York Bambu! Music, dancing, cocktails! Oh my!
Hope to see you there!
(Yes, I know the cover’s kinda high for this town, but we’re rock stars and we gotta pay for all that cocaine. Not to mention those groovy stage lights we just bought.)
Yesterday was a long day.
I got home really late Tuesday night because rehearsal went so long, then I sat reading and unwinding for a bit before going to bed. I didn’t get enough sleep that night. Yesterday I worked until five, met Bread at the bar and had dinner with him at Torino’s, then went to rehearsal again. Didn’t get home until late but had to wake him up and ravish him because he’d made me promise I would at dinner, so I didn’t get to sleep last night until well past midnight.
Today I have rehearsal at seven and we’re running through the whole set twice, so I doubt I’ll be home before eleven. I am so sleeping in tomorrow! But then my house is a total mess and I still need to buy shoes for the gig, so I guess I’ll have to actually do something Friday rather than lounge on the couch watching TiVo’d episodes of Sex and the City re-runs as I’d like.
I’m really excited about the gig but right now I want a nap so badly I can barely keep my eyes open. I think I’ll buzz home at five and take a power nap before rehearsal, and show up with a sleepy voice rather than a sleepy head.
In which I go to Ottumwa. Oh, and talk about the NYE gig.
Yesterday Tahmi called to invite me to join her for lunch and a movie in Ottumwa.
Her mister was cuddled in with his new Xbox 360 and wanted to be alone with his new mistress, so she needed to get out of the house. She picked me up at the Batavia BP and we proceeded to Applebee’s for cocktails and food.
I had two chocolate martinis because I’m a hedonist and a plate of fish ‘n’ chips. She had two coffee & booze concoctions and a pizza appetizer. Then we went to see Family Stone, which was cute in exactly the way we’d expected it to be. (Not the world’s most brilliant film, but perfect for our needs. I enjoyed it and would recommend it to anybody with enough current estrogen to like chick flicks.)
After the movie we adjourned to Herberger’s, where I got clothes for my upcoming New Year’s Eve gig (link is a PDF). I bought a cute black tailored jacket, groovy black slacks that are low-slung and even kind of bell bottomed, and a fuck-me-dead-red camisole (with matching panties because, you know, what the hell). Since it was Boxing Day and everything was on sale, I spent $70 for nearly $200 worth of clothes. Yeah! I haven’t purchased gig clothes in a million years, and I’m really excited to wear a new outfit and look well-turned out for once.
I tried the outfit on when I got home and Bread gave me a “Nice ass!” which was gratifying. Apparently chubby chicks can still have nice asses, which is a relief.
All I need now are some cheap platform shoes; I’ll probably hit Wal*Mart or Payless for those. I need platforms because I know for a fact I won’t get the pants hemmed. I never hem pants. It’s just not part of my idiom.
People have been asking me about the gig and when I tell them I’m “just a back-up singer in this band,” they all make the same face. “You’re only singing backup?” they say. “What a waste!” But I’m digging it, to be honest. I get to play cowbell, for one, and tambourine, for another, and I’ve only had to memorize about a quarter of the amount of lyrics I’d’ve had to memorize otherwise. It’s a great deal for me. I love singing backup and I haven’t done much of it. Save this year, I’ve fronted every other band I’ve been in since 1992. There’s a lot to be said for ‘only’ being a backup singer – I get to sing, I get to sing cool harmonies, I get to look cool, and I really don’t have to do all that much for the privilege.
It’s like rock star lite. Plus did I say COWBELL?!
Also, being the opening act instead of the headliner means I’ll be done at 11:00 and will therefore be able to apply myself to proper partying for the remainder of the event! It’s the perfect combination of gig and non-gig events. Bread even suggested I book a room since the gig’s in a hotel so we can both get trashed and not have to bother driving home until the next morning – clever man, isn’t he?
In which I did two gigs this weekend.
Friday and Saturday nights I played (er, sang backup) in J’s 13th annual holiday benefit concert at Morningstar Studio. Proceeds this year are being split betwen the Jefferson County Womens’ Crisis Center, the Childrens’ Center, and the International charity Airline Ambassadors. The target was $16,000; I don’t know yet if it was met.
The gigs were fun and comfortable, and I really enjoyed doing them. Friday night was musically rougher, but the between-song patter was livlier and more funny. Saturday night was tighter musically, but a little less warm. The audiences were smallish – maybe 60 to 80 people each night – but appreciative and involved.
The traditional single-pack-of-incense-for-charity auction brought $400 Friday, and $500 Saturday. (J owns Prasad Gifts – which distribues some of the best incense in the world, by the way – which donates incense to sell.) The record was set last year, when some generous soul gave $1,200 for a single pack of Prasad Incense.
Saturday night, Bread brought his mom and the three of us went out for dinner before the show. Nanner said she’d enjoyed herself, and it was great having the two of them in the audience. After the gig we went out for a cocktail and we fed her a white russian. Since she never drinks she was a little giggly – okay, a lot giggly! – on the drive home. She’s so cute, that mother-in-law of mine!
My favorite moment was Friday night, when, after I sang my solo verse in Amazing Grace (Jai Guru Deva), a guy in the audience bust out with two quickly truncated but extraordinarily sincere handclaps right in the middle of the song. It was cute, and totally flattering, and made my night. (A told me later that he’d been on the edge of his seat every TBe I went off a little. I love to hear about that shit. Love it. I mean, how can you not feel kindly toward someone who is so clearly moved by your craft?) I also just really enjoyed playing with J and Snow and TB in particular, because they’re fun on stage what with the meaningful looks and winks and grins while playing. Actually, J makes a lot of funny faces at me, but I like singing with him. TB and Snow are just consumate performers and great to be on stage with because they see and hear everything.
All in all, a wholly satisfying endeavor – and for a good cause, too. I feel really quite in synch with the season and the giving and those less fortunate. And all that crap.
I’ve been offline because I can only connect over my home dial-up in fifteen-second intervals, which makes me insane. You’re gettin’ a five-day update here. Yes, I blog from work all the time.
Friday, Bread came home from work at 12:30, sick, and slept for nineteen consecutive hours.
Saturday I had an afternoon rehearsal at J’s for his upcoming Christmas Benefit concert. It was a lot of fun.
There were three musicians there named Tim – they play mandolin, bass, and guitar – and at one point J said, “Tim, let’s pick it up at the B section,” and all three of them started playing at once.
Sunday I had another rehearsal at J’s followed immediately by a House 11 rehearsal, so I ended up doing music for about nine hours that day. It was wonderful – a whole day of music and musicans, with a couple breaks for lattes and pizza.
Monday I was sick.
Tuesday I was sick and missed work.
This morning I did a 180 on Cedar (the gravel road I take to get to Hwy 34) and put the jeep in a ditch. It took me a while to get out, but I have 4WD so out I got. The 180 happened because I was passed by some dumb asshole in an SUV who didn’t get far enough over, thereby forcing me to get way over to the right so we could pass without colliding, and in doing so I clipped my passenger side wheels in the icy slushy sludge that is Iowa gravel roads on this gloomy day. I lost control of the vehicle and spun entirely around, ending up watching the ass end of the jerk that had just passed me as he drove blithely off down the center of the goddamned road.
I have a rehearsal tonight, another rehearsal tomorrow night, and gigs Friday and Saturday nights.
In other news, this article, when I read the treeware version over the weekend, really bummed me out.
Damian Kulash of the band OK Go rants about DRM:
I certainly don’t want to encourage people to go pirating our music. I have poured my life into this band, and after two major label records, we’re barely scraping by financially. Believe me, I’m all for racking up real sales, but before a million people can buy our record, a million people have to hear our music and like it enough to go looking for it. That ain’t gonna happen without a lot of people playing us for their friends, which, in turn, ain’t gonna happen without a fair amount of file sharing.
Our label should be able to face this reality, and they should be thinking that it’s better for our career, and their coffers, to have copies of our album on two million iPods, half of which have been paid for, than it would be to have the 40,000 people currently on our email list each buy a clumsily armored copy of our record that they store on the shelf and listen to every once in a while when they bust out the cd player for old times’ sake.
Read the rest of this fantastic rant here.
In which I have a suspicion.
Rehearsal last night rocked. I love this band. We ate an entire box of chocolates during the dinner break. (“We” being everyone but the bass player who didn’t have any chocolate at all.) Please note we’ll be playing the ballroom at the Best Western with Bambu on NYE and you should be there. I’m even going to buy new shoes for it.
After rehearsal I drove home and promptly fell asleep… which means I woke up at three in the morning. Then I slept from six ’til ten. My sleep schedule is toast.
In the war on domestic disorder, I’ve swept and dusted and tidied the house and carried laundry baskets up and down the damn stairs, and brought in wood and kindling, and started the dishes. (I hate doing the dishes, so I put them all in to soak in scorching hot water and never go back to finish them. Because I HATE them.) I scrubbed the toilet, which makes me wish to live in an all-female commune because the things that men do to toilets leave me shocked and irritated. I finished the dishes. I made enchiladas for dinner and key lime bars for dessert. I made myself a White Russian and drank it. I washed and folded two bushels of clothes. I opened the back door and swept all the leaves back outside where they belong.
It occurs to me that I could not be any more boring if I were clinically dead. (Which I might actually be; haven’t checked.)
In which I do almost nothing at all.
Long weekend, y’all.
I didn’t do much, though – I had a rousing several days worth of Cramps From Hell™ followed by a head cold. Friday we didn’t go to Misty’s b-day gathering at the bar, damn it, and Saturday night I stayed home while B. went out bowling with Truck and Bowling Jesus. He brought the party home afterward, and I felt so utterly clapped out that I actually went to bed even though there was a fresh bottle of cheap wine and Tammy and Hattie were there and I’m usually thrilled to have chicks over.
Sunday I went to a House 11 rehearsal and had a really good time. I like that band. I’m starting to get excited about having a New Year’s gig – the band will be running 24 radio spots and getting print ad coverage, so it should be a good turnout. (We’ll be opening for Bambu in the big room at the Worst Bestern, if I haven’t mentioned that already.)
And yawn: over the weekend the battery died in the jeep and I had to put it on the charger. I need to throw some money at my cage, it needs tires as well as a new battery, and probably a tune-up (even though it gets great mileage for a six-banger and I’m kind of afraid to let anyone touch it). Everything I own wants me to spend money on it, I swear: my home computer’s CD burner died so I can’t burn CDs, my digital camera’s flash no longer works, and my washing machine no longer seems interested in actually spinning all the water out of the clothes I put in it.
In other news, I’m listening to this funky little ditty a lot lately: Feels Just Like It Should (it’s Jamiroquai. Prepare to get your head funked off).
Also, my blogroll is totally out of fucking control. If I’m offline for a few days I end up with about four hours of reading. How the hell did this shit happen?
In which I liked the band.
Thursday after work I met Mr. Brett at the Dead Cock for drinks. He went home eventually and I finished my cocktail and went out to find dinner. I ran into Hattie on her way in to work and said I’d be back to see her later.
I walked around the corner hoping to eat at either La Petit Paris or Revelations, but both were closed and I ended up having tostadas and chile rellenos at Los Portales.
After eating I sat in my car with the heat running – I hate winter – and read Eragon in e-book format on my PPC for about twenty minutes, then went to rehearse with House 11.
The band was tight, the vibe was really mellow, and rehearsal was fun. I’ve agreed to sing with them, so now I have a New Years Eve gig at the Best Western (opening with them for Big Bambu). They’re in that business-model originals-band-with-a-constitution phase, which means more writing/arranging/rehearsal than gigging, but after talking with Greg for about two hours after rehearsal, I realized he’s right: I don’t want to do endless gigs in smoky bars – it’s far better to do fewer higher quality gigs than it is to work your ass off and get nowhere. I mean, who am I kidding? I don’t want to sing covers at The Den Two for pissed off abattoir workers every weekend. (The last time I performed there, someone threw a fucking ashtray at the bandstand.) I’d like it for a month or two, then I’d get sick of it and start to hate the audiences which is always a bad headspace for a performer to be in.
So I’m still going to check out that other band on Monday, but I’ve already committed to doing this House 11 thing.
After rehearsal and then a long conversation with Greg (he’s one of those people I can’t stop chatting with – I just have to say “Walk away now or we’ll be here another hour!” and drive off), I stopped for gas and went back to the bar. Hattie served me a big glass of water (I hadn’t taken any to rehearsal, which was dumb) and sat to chat with me. I got home about 12:30 and crashed.
So: I have a gi-iiiiiig! I have a gi-iiiiiig! Neener neener neener!
In other news, you should go check out Stanford on iTunes immediately and fill your iPod all up with nifty things.
Wallflower no more, y’all.
Tonight I’m going to rehearse with a band that’s thinkin’ about hiring me. Monday night I’m going to sit in with another band that’s thinkin’ about hiring me.
It’s damned exciting to realize that within weeks of announcing my intention to start singing again (if you can call telling my friends and letting the grapevine handle it “announcing” anything), people are calling me up at work and offering me gigs.
Here’s the skinny on my two upcoming ‘auditions’:
Now, I’ve never seen or heard either of these bands so I don’t have any inkling which one I’ll like better (or which one will like me better), but let me tell you the idea of being in a working band again is really appealing! What the hell have I been doing these past several years?
In other news, if I read your blog and you haven’t updated it since September, I hate you.