Gah! And our show has been moved… where? To OBLIVION!!!
For some reason, the last several days have been utterly exhausting. I feel like I’ve been running back and forth, both hither and tither, maybe even helter and skelter.
Last Thursday I ran out to Ellicott City for an open mic at a bar called the Friendly Inn – but showed up really too late to play. I had this glorious vision of going to lots of new open mics with lots of friends, taking over a table or so and not caring how late into the night it all went because Hell, I’d have my posse. Alas, things haven’t panned out that way and the Friendly Inn saw me sitting in the back of a no-doubt very friendly room with a no-doubt very friendly audience nursing a ginger ale and getting “can’t make it” text messages from friends. I watched the host push unenthusiastically through a couple of classic rock standards and I watched the audience push applause back at him. A house drummer sat in every once in a while, but he was just pushing his sticks around and never seemed to lock in.
People WERE friendly. People answered my questions, I just wasn’t one of them and I’m never good at making friends until I’ve introduced myself with my fingers and strings and so I sat quietly for about an hour getting a sense of the night, a sense of the timing. After determining my slot was destined to come at around 12.30 or 1am and that that was about three and a half to four hours in the future, I decided I could head out.
Maybe I’ll come back with friends, maybe I’ll come back really early and play really early and see if I can make NEW friends, but all in all – that night I made my way home and it was lonesome enough without being the only guy out on the roads.
Friday night Belle and I headed out to hit up the open mic at the Potter’s House in Washington DC. It was Lovely to have someone else drive, especially through the nightmare dropped-yarn tangle of our nation’s capital. Our knowledge of the city also just barely overlapped, so just as things became unfamiliar to me, she sort of knew where she was. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten to call the venue to check up on times, so en route I gave the place a call and found out that this ONE week they’d swapped dates and that no open mic was happening tonight and I was treated to a VERY long monologue as to why that was the case but I realy didn’t care and could I please get a word in edgewise to THANK you and ring off? No? Ok – bye and click.
I looked through my phone and spotted another DC open mic that I’d been planning on hitting up at the end of next month and called them up… Belle knew where it was and we got there just in time to sign up at Politics and Prose at the Modern TImes Coffeehouse (or is it the Politics and Prose Coffeehouse at the Modern Times Bookstore?). I drank coffee and ate grilled cheese and I feared what the night would bring. Here in DC with a name like Politics and Prose I was expecting a slam aesthetic with politically charged singer/songwriters, angst, anger and a downward glance and upturned nose cast at anyone as socially unaware as myself.
I was pleasantly surprised. Good performers at this totally acoustic little night with a really friendly, warm atmosphere – of course, i might just have gotten that impression because I went over really well with the audience, but I came away pretty positive. I always dread Friday night open mics because I figure the real talents have gigs on Friday nights – (ha, usually myself included!) – but I really enjoyed the people that I met. It was a good time had. One person in particular that stuck in my mind was Hess, the aluminium bass player (upright bass made of aluminium, she was not, in fact, made from metal in any form, shape or manner). I liked listening to her all into the melodies of whoever was playing and I was only sad that I hadn’t met her sooner so as to get a taste of the low sinuous sound ricocheting off my own noise.
Saturday was a family day and passed without Journal-appropriate incident!
Sunday, ilyAIMY had their first band practice of the year, possibly of the winter – our first recent band practice that I can remember, frankly. We’ve been slackers. And so we brushed up on March of the Rabbit because it gets requested a lot and I KEEP forgetting the words and we forgot to brush up on Bulldozer because we’ve been playing it a lot recently but sans Heather but we practiced Drift because I thought something had been going awry in it but after playing it through I guess it was just fine. Then we hit the new stuff. Heather and I haven’t been writing at a ferocious rate or anything, but we have got a LOT of material that hasn’t been brought to the rest of the band.
And so – finally a full band treatment of Heather’s dirty blues number “Girl Gone So Long” and a version of “Waste” that I got to play bass on. We approached “Slight Departure” very, very carefully because I thought it was kind of bluegrassy and it’s in a similar time to “Rob’s Lament” and “Crazy As A Good Thing” and I didn’t want to have ANOTHER song with that oon cha oon cha oon cha sound out of the percussion. Rowan got really tasteful with a shaker and some cymbals and Sharif went in an AMAZING direction with a gorgeos, grinding, Portishead / Radiohead -esque organ line that completely redirected the tune. Then it was time for “Indivisible” which I was also pretty worried about – less from a full-band treatment and more from a “is my song strongly-enough written to hold it’s own against the rest of our material?” point-of-view. It took some jiggering and it’s got a little ways to go – Sharif stumbled across a neat walking bass line that I asked him to run with but things simply weren’t fitting. We didn’t need both djembes and the bones inherent triplette output just wasn’t clicking into place. I was lamenting my damned song and then Rowan poked his head out from around a corner with a bohdran and DAMN I’d forgotten that he played THAT and it was AWESOME. The song locked down almost instantly and Rowan suddenly aquired another instrument that he had to carry to gigs.
Poor man, poor man.
Tonight, however – was a nothing. We were scheduled to play in Frederick, MD at a cool singer/songwriter series at Brewer’s Alley and I’d gotten into the city crazy early to wander around and spend some time with a friend – but while walking around on the beautiful sunlit day we walked past Brewer’s Alley which was… CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS!!! After much phone calling we determined that yes-indeedy the venue had PLANNED to close LAST week but at the last minute had rearranged their schedule, stayed open last week and closed down THIS week – this person thought THAT person had called us, THAT person thought the other person had called us and we’d been lost in the shuffle.
Disheartened, back from Frederick I roam, but it gives me a little more time to myself which I then choose to share with friends – at the moment I’m just sitting and writing at Rick and Audrey’s, listening to music like I never, ever do. Something good that I’d never have found for myself called the Frames, I think. I approve. Reminds me of a non-falsetto approaching Radiohead crossed with whatsisname, Dylan’s kid… it’s a good noise to accompany me – not too happy, intense, beautiful, something that could be in the background at a dance that’s going to end in heartbreak. Bell like electric guitar and a growl to the vocal that’s a little to torn to be beautiful and a nice, uncomplicated kit player. Indie pop please, hold the sweet cause that’s where you lose me.
We’ll see what Tuesday brings.
– compare LA Riots to rush hour traffic.
– Heaven without the Hell – in through the out door.
– we are adults now.
