There's No Business Like The Dog And Pony Show You've Chosen

Update - After numerous glowing reviews from the front man with that Stones tribute/original band, I get an email on Friday telling me my playing was not what the drummer expected and frankly, the front man now seemed to share the same opinion.
Confused to say the least.

I'm not about to plead for a gig in which I am not wanted.
This is not a shot to play with Bruce.
Okay - this is show business. Cut-throat, nasty back-stabbing business in which the strongest, not necessarily the most talented, survive.
I put it behind me. I have been rejected before. Not often enough that they blur together. I remember them distinctly. But they do not shape me other than toughen me. Yes, in this instance what doesn't kill, makes me tougher.

Saturday I open my email to find another missive from the front-man. It seems the drummer is seeking an elusive dream and the front-man is trying to dissuade him from it and bring the drummer back to reality.
He'll let me know what happens.

I didn't know whether to laugh at or cry for the sad, sad man.
I picked a business in which, like the Church, we can be a last refuge for some voices.
Some people have more time than talent and work to find outlets for their unique message.

I remember the time I asked Mike Miller to deliver a message to a girl I was smitten with during high school.
And how he won that girls heart that night, bearing my message.
(A most unwitting Cyrano)

I thought I had to toughen up, to stop trusting my feelings in other hands as they would crush me more often than not.

What I have learned is that I need not toughen up to survive people like Mike or in this lifes case JC; rather I have learned to pursue my own ideals and take those along with me that truly wish to come.

I won't be answering any forthcoming emails from JC. He is a footnote now; one of my rejections.
I am somewhat glad to have one or two humorous ones.

It Never Fails

Every single time I have a gut feeling that a musical situation will be a bust, it turns out otherwise.

What is up with that?

Every.Single.Time.

Last year a gig at the Back Door started off on the wrong foot. It turned out to be a heckuva lot of fun.

Last evening I had an audition that held very little promise for me. I had previously met with the front guy for this band and I was very unimpressed. So much so, that I told myself I wouldn't answer any emails or calls from him in the future. In truth I did not expect him to get back to me as he seemed to be all talk and no follow through.

He emails a week later proposing a get-together with the full band in a local studio and my audition.
With a huge sigh I said..."Okay..."
Why?
I can't let an opportunity pass can I?
Who knows? This guy could be the real deal. Fine, I'll meet them...hate everything they play and go home.
(Okay, why the preconceived crap/diatribe continues past the decision making, I have no clue - totally counter-productive)

It starts to rain, the drive is long, I won't get home until really late - I have such a laundry list of built up excuses I wondered why I was going at all.
I told myself to shut up, I was on my way - no turning around. See what is what and then go back to the house...easy.

I found the place easily. Started to unload my gear, found a nice amp inside which meant I didn't need to lug mine anymore and I could use this instead!

The front man is there, so we talk a bit as I set up. In walks the drummer. Then, after about fifteen minutes the front guy says, "Let's try..." and he names a Stones tune. His idea is to do a Stones Tribute band - his original material is very Stones-like, so it makes sense to me.
As we begin to play I notice right away that he is a fair musician, more a singer that also plays. The drummer is great. I mean this guy is not flashy in anyway, no - he knows how to fit the mood being set. Man, does he...
He is good, very good. I am really impressed. So I wonder to myself why he plays with this front guy?

Slowly it dawns on me (yeah, I can be obtuse). There is a genuine nature to the music played. And although there was no bass player, it sounded good?
I've been a Stones fan for 40 years so I do enjoy the music. This guy is picking tunes not normally done. That too, impresses me.

We end the night and I mention that I know both the drummer and this guy will need to talk and decide if they want to continue with me or make other plans.
Today I get CC'ed on an email to the bass player inquiring about his status.
In it, is the line, "Mike was right on the money with his playing and Ernie is not only a very good player but a nice guy, too."



I will cultivate this feeling and expect the good times to continue.

Go To Styles

Little Lou calls the other day.

Sure, I understand he is trying to drum up business with a good customer. I bought two guitars and a handful of pedals from him in the past year.
We shoot the breeze, talk about my gigs et cetera.
He tells me of an upcoming seminar on a line of amps.

"Even if you don't buy anything, I'd love to see you, man."

Our business is about the human touch. Pressing the flesh in music is real - necessary.
When someone is smart enough to recognize and use this, they deserve my patronage, maybe even my friendship. Customer service like this is not to be denied.

Promotion Time

Mine.
My own.

I have opened a page on Reverbnation and am asking anyone reading this to head over and become a fan, sign up for email, everything and anything you have the time for, I would appreciate it.
E <---It's a link, click it! Someone said it was hard to tell.

Of course any ideas, critiques, criticisms are welcome, nay encouraged.
The site has a building reputation and is fairly easly to link to FaceBook pages or Twitter or MySpace.

It has a built in player which is a huge plus. The hoops that FaceBooks forces people through to accomplish the same thing. For under $30 I can package and sell my music on Amazon, iTunes, Walmart and Zune.

Time to get my feet wet and put the rubber to the road. I'm not getting any younger.

Ever Been Married To Three People Simultaneously?

It's not an easy task. To be in a band...a successful band; even harder and get along.
To have four people to get along in all things is asking too much. Never happen.
You hope for a nice happy median.
That we share a taste in music. Perhaps the same sense of dedication to our music.

And then life intrudes. This one can't pay his rent; he'll be moving from week to week. Visiting the local pawn shop. I can't count on this.
Another one forgot he had a prior engagement. Forgot? Nah...decided to leave. So that precludes the second of the two gigs.
The last one means well. But he likes to drink. Likes it too much. For me to be his friend means to drink as though I were back in college. Oh, no thanks. No thanks at all.

Why can't we get together and simply make sweet music?
Ah well.
I understand why many of the acts I follow and enjoy are singles, or pairings of a temporary nature.
Very few are more than three pieces with any length of time under the belt. For a particular band to work, takes work.Four people married to each other.

Sounds like a story line from Hollywood, if ever I heard one.

I think I will go solo for a bit and see how I fare. It will demand a complete shift in thinking...in my approach to music in general. I can do it; the question is do I want to change badly enough?

Good Music Makes Me Weep

Ever been so happy that you feel as though you'd burst if you tried to contain yourself?

I was listening to Peaches En Regalia - Frank Zappa - there is a refrain done at 1:46 into the song. The saxes play a sweeping melodic line while the bass walks up behind them.
Sigh.

There are passages that can bring me to tears - tears of joy.
That alone makes me more susceptible to the magic. I play the portion over and over, drinking in the chest swelling emotions. Frank was a great composer, to be sure. I wonder if he knew of the effect he has on people? I doubt it.

We do our best...write our pieces in the sand and hope the tide doesn't erase our works too soon. Hope that one or two people appreciate what we have done.

Today was to be a gig at Characters celebrating the birthday of two regulars...a bartender and a patron.
But as chance would have it it was raining all night and continuing into today.
No worries, let's just do it next weekend.

"Ernie, we have a gig next weekend at the Back Door."
"Ok"
"Can we do both?"
"Why not, Jerry?"

I can do it all. I know this. Musically speaking...
I can do whatever Jerry wants and then some. He whipped out some Santana on me yesterday, thinking I wouldn't know the tunes.
He started with 'Jingo' and the followed with 'Samba Pa Ti.'
Puhlease...I cut my guitar teeth listening to Santana. I am the  guy when it comes to Santana.
'Europa...' Ha!
Do you have something of a challenge for me here?
I can do this...and well!

When it's good, when the notes fit like dovetailed joints...it can bring me joy that can make me weep.
I had been watching footage of Hendrix at Woodstock recently and I noticed a facial expression he and I share.
An indrawn cheek, introspective face...It's the joy face!

It's all he can do to keep from weeping with joy - "this shit really works!"
(Try keeping a straight face on stage when people are yelling your name in praise and you happen to agree with them) It is as much a face of self-discovery as it is self assured.

Certain (who am I kidding?...many) songs can bring this out in me. Maybe it is the difficulty of the passage that feeds me. Or perhaps it's the feeling the song suggests. The lyrics. Many different reasons.

The tunes themselves have very little in common.
One by Loggins and Messina, a couple by the Stones, Zappa...and on & on.
A disparate group if ever there was one.
It's music.

I hope the effect never wears off.

Subliminal Message

When Verizon offered a Droid phone at no cost to me, I acquiesced.
Shortly afterwards I decided to get a case. I found a brand I liked...in black, red, blue, silver or purple.

The purple spoke to me.
Frequently I heed my first instinct...when my spidey sense tingles I try to follow it. (The trick being the ability to distinguish a first instinct from a suggestion made by your drunken monkey)
Fine, I'll continue to be a rebel...purple cover it is.

It is a nice cover, does the job well and feels welcoming to the touch.

The other night I was noodling on my Jaguar with the phone laying on the coffee table.
I finished what I was playing and tossed the pick on top of the phone.

(Can you see the light bulb going off over my head?)