The suit and the truck have gotten a workout this week. Job interviews Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, in Portland (90 miles away), Pendleton (150 miles further east), and Milwaukie (90 miles again). All state jobs; easiest (and poorest-paying) is Wednesday’s job, a lowly permit tech/secretary for the state liquor-control agency, and the most challenging (and most fun) is Tuesday’s, managing a state child-support office with a staff of 22 covering nine counties. Thursday, I get to have lunch with the local newspaper publisher (his idea—I don’t know what he has in mind).
“The Dog’s Song” has gotten a lot of good attention; so, belately, has “Crosses by the Roadside,” which I dedicated to Sharma Kay. “Crosses” was panned by a Nashville publisher—one reason I hadn’t played it much until recently—but I get the opposite reaction from audiences. I am forced to go with the audiences, and guess the “Nashville experts” just don’t have a very good handle on what the public wants to listen to.
Both “The Dog’s Song” and “Crosses by the Roadside” would be good album inclusions—but not this time, I think: the setlist for the upcoming album is set, and I don’t really want to change it. I want the upcoming album to include Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street,” too, and it and “Crosses” are both two-steps, and just a little too similar in tempo—they shouldn’t be on the same record. Next time. (Yes, I’m already organizing the next album, and I haven’t finished this one yet.)
“The Dog’s Song” is probably one for the next album, too. I would like the band to tackle it—it is definitely rock ‘n’ roll, and they like that stuff. “The Dog’s Song” is one that’s unlikely to get performed for many live audiences, but it is good (one time—and there aren’t many—where I agree with the reviewers), and I know I can sing it okay, even though it’s in an awful key.
It might be possible to pad the setlist for the second Failed Economy Show with a couple more of my tunes. “The Strange Saga of Quoth, the Parrot” is a possibility, because it is political, and does have an upbeat message of determination, and “Hey, Little Chicken” is openly about acquiring food. Could do “Rotten Candy,” too; it is, after all, about me getting fired from my city manager job in Union (I just ratcheted up the lost-love imagery to the point where you’d never guess it was about a guy losing his job). Add Stan Good’s “Gimme Couple Billion of Them Bailout Bucks,” which we didn’t do last time, and Al David’s new “Poverty Blues,” and we’d be okay, I think.
Those would replace Z. Mulls’ “The Emperor,” my “Oil in the Cornfield,” Stan Good’s “WD-40 the Economy,” and Stan Bolton’s “Glad That you’re Here,” none of which I can sing very well. (On the other hand, if we get “Doc” Wagner playing blues harp, “Glad That You’re Here” should be an inclusion; it’s a great blues number and ideal for the harmonica.)
Of course, I don’t know if there will be a show yet. I haven’t contacted my potential lead players to see if any (or all) of them are available, and that’s a prerequisite. I guess my excuse is I needed to recover from my generally depressing showing at Insomnia Coffee. I think I have now. I’m ready to perform again. I still might avoid soliciting any more solo shows in Portland; that has not worked out, and has pretty much been a waste of time and money. I may have the time, but I sure don’t have the money.
UPCOMING: Music Friday with the Friday Night Group; it’ll be the Hallowe’en show, and my excuse to give ‘em “Vampire Roumanian Babies” and “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails,” as well as Bobby Bare’s famous blues about voodoo queen Marie Laveau, which I don’t do any other time of year. Sunday there should be music at the Forestry Center.
Joe
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
INSOMNIA COFFEE POST-MORTEM...
Well, it has been a week (almost) of rejections. The fish hatchery in Trail hired someone else; so did a bunch of other state agencies that interviewed me. The newspaper’s auditors told them they should hire a business manager with an accounting degree, not accounting experience—not me, in other words. The last several city-manager jobs I applied for all went to people with degrees but no prior experience, too—it’s why I mostly don’t bother to apply for those jobs any more.
And then there was the Insomnia Coffee gig. No, it wasn’t good. I believe I did my part right: the setlist was good (and timed perfectly), I remembered everything (even the Rap, which I’d just finished that day), and the delivery, even of songs I hadn’t done before or hadn’t done in a long time, was good, too. And both my voice and my fingers lasted the whole two hours (though they did hurt by the time I was done—making one’s self heard unamplified in a big room is not easy).
I just don’t think the audience listened. At all. I realize that happens a lot to musicians, and suppose I shouldn’t be bothered by it—but I am. I am used to being paid attention (I have been accused of having an overdeveloped sense of self-importance). I can deal with people not paying attention—I consider that a challenge—but in this case, the crowd seemed to be deliberately treating me as a distraction, and acting pointedly like they really would have preferred it if I hadn’t been there. If I increased my volume (which I had limited ability to do, being unamplified), they increased theirs. They mostly didn’t applaud. And every person who left the place (and they mostly left in groups) did so in the middle of a song. (Some of them smiled as they left. I’m not sure what the smiles meant.)
I think, though, that if there’s fault to be found (and I’m not sure there is—but as noted above, I’m pretty sure I did everything right), it’s with the venue, not the audience. I don’t think Insomnia Coffee has done a good job of communicating to their customers that they consider the live music important—and (my opinion) until they do, it’s not going to be. In my opinion, having solicited somebody to come play there, the venue should act like what they did was a Good Thing: posters help (I gave them posters, but I don’t think they ever put any up), but generally you want to create the proverbial “buzz” that something special’s going to happen. And they should shush the crowd, both in advance and on-site. “We are having Live Music, and it’s going to be Neat. If you don’t want to hear live music, you should come at a time when we don’t have live music, which is most of the time.” In other words, give the performer—who is playing for free—a little courtesy. I think courtesy was notably lacking here.
I won’t actively solicit my going back. If Insomnia Coffee contacts me to ask me back—and I doubt they will—I will have to ask them why they’re bothering. It cost me twenty bucks in gas and roughly seven hours of my time (including two spent performing, and four spent traveling) to play at a bunch of people who pretty obviously preferred I wasn’t there. I am tempted to accede to their wishes.
Just a coincidence, but I could have gone to Jim Nelson’s open mike at the Bay City Arts Center that night. Yes, that was also unpaid, and I would have been on stage for only 15-20 minutes, but it was only four miles away, and the audience would have been respectful and attentive (and a lot of them probably would have been fans). Guess where I’d rather have been?
On the plus side, “The Dog’s Song” is done. URL is http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songinfo.cfm?bandID=183557&songID=8251748. In keeping with the original mandate to do it in the style of the Ramones, it’s rock ‘n’ roll. Not much feedback on the song, so I have to rely on my own gut feeling, which is that it’s okay. I was trying to capture the “Bubbaness” of an old dog, and still make it understandable to people, and I think I did that.
Job interviews next two days; I still have April’s “Family Photo” to re-record, and a Stan Good song to musicate, too. And a lead player to enlist for the second Failed Economy Show. Not going to do the show if I can’t find a lead player.
Joe
And then there was the Insomnia Coffee gig. No, it wasn’t good. I believe I did my part right: the setlist was good (and timed perfectly), I remembered everything (even the Rap, which I’d just finished that day), and the delivery, even of songs I hadn’t done before or hadn’t done in a long time, was good, too. And both my voice and my fingers lasted the whole two hours (though they did hurt by the time I was done—making one’s self heard unamplified in a big room is not easy).
I just don’t think the audience listened. At all. I realize that happens a lot to musicians, and suppose I shouldn’t be bothered by it—but I am. I am used to being paid attention (I have been accused of having an overdeveloped sense of self-importance). I can deal with people not paying attention—I consider that a challenge—but in this case, the crowd seemed to be deliberately treating me as a distraction, and acting pointedly like they really would have preferred it if I hadn’t been there. If I increased my volume (which I had limited ability to do, being unamplified), they increased theirs. They mostly didn’t applaud. And every person who left the place (and they mostly left in groups) did so in the middle of a song. (Some of them smiled as they left. I’m not sure what the smiles meant.)
I think, though, that if there’s fault to be found (and I’m not sure there is—but as noted above, I’m pretty sure I did everything right), it’s with the venue, not the audience. I don’t think Insomnia Coffee has done a good job of communicating to their customers that they consider the live music important—and (my opinion) until they do, it’s not going to be. In my opinion, having solicited somebody to come play there, the venue should act like what they did was a Good Thing: posters help (I gave them posters, but I don’t think they ever put any up), but generally you want to create the proverbial “buzz” that something special’s going to happen. And they should shush the crowd, both in advance and on-site. “We are having Live Music, and it’s going to be Neat. If you don’t want to hear live music, you should come at a time when we don’t have live music, which is most of the time.” In other words, give the performer—who is playing for free—a little courtesy. I think courtesy was notably lacking here.
I won’t actively solicit my going back. If Insomnia Coffee contacts me to ask me back—and I doubt they will—I will have to ask them why they’re bothering. It cost me twenty bucks in gas and roughly seven hours of my time (including two spent performing, and four spent traveling) to play at a bunch of people who pretty obviously preferred I wasn’t there. I am tempted to accede to their wishes.
Just a coincidence, but I could have gone to Jim Nelson’s open mike at the Bay City Arts Center that night. Yes, that was also unpaid, and I would have been on stage for only 15-20 minutes, but it was only four miles away, and the audience would have been respectful and attentive (and a lot of them probably would have been fans). Guess where I’d rather have been?
On the plus side, “The Dog’s Song” is done. URL is http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songinfo.cfm?bandID=183557&songID=8251748. In keeping with the original mandate to do it in the style of the Ramones, it’s rock ‘n’ roll. Not much feedback on the song, so I have to rely on my own gut feeling, which is that it’s okay. I was trying to capture the “Bubbaness” of an old dog, and still make it understandable to people, and I think I did that.
Job interviews next two days; I still have April’s “Family Photo” to re-record, and a Stan Good song to musicate, too. And a lead player to enlist for the second Failed Economy Show. Not going to do the show if I can’t find a lead player.
Joe
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
THE BURLESQUE SHOW (&C.)...
As this is written, I am waiting for the Oregon Justice Dept. to tell me whether they want to have my job interview in Salem (where their headquarters is) or in Pendleton, 200-plus miles away (where the job would be). Don’t know when the interview will be, but I have another one Monday in Portland. And a job test in Portland tomorrow—I’ll drop off more posters for the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig in Hillsboro while I’m at it.
All part of re-inventing myself, I guess. I think city management is probably out as a career now—the only interviews I’ve gotten for those jobs have been where a city manager who knew me was picking the folks to be interviewed, and abovementioned city managers are never the ones doing the actual hiring. I think I won’t have one of those jobs again unless I have that all-important college degree, I can’t get the degree without going back to school, and I have to—I think—have a decent-paying job to afford the classes. (Unemployment just changed their rules—again—to allow one to go to school while still drawing unemployment benefits. They used to prohibit that. I wonder if I can take advantage of it?)
The plus side is I can expect to have more time to play music. I want to push that as far as it will go, and until recently there never was the time. I will have to put into practice everything I’ve learned about economizing, because there will still not be enough money to do anything fancy.
Post-mortem on the Burlesque Show was Sunday. I think everybody’s committed to doing another show, but it will have to be done a bit differently, because the last show didn’t make any money. It wasn’t that we didn’t have a good crowd (and I don’t think anyone was turned off by the $8 gate fee), but the rent the Hawthorne Theater charged was pretty astronomical, and that alone ate up all the money, and then some.
We will do the next show in a different (and cheaper) place. We need a venue that can accommodate Lanolin’s fire-dancing stripper act—the Portland Fire Marshal doesn’t allow that sort of thing just anywhere. Ideally, the venue should be free; as a trade-off, we’d have to do it on a weeknight, but that might not be bad—there’s a lot of competition for the entertainment dollar on Friday and Saturday nights, and not many places to go the rest of the week. We could actually get a bigger crowd on a weeknight.
My suggestion that the show-long plot tying all the acts loosely together was good (and also unique), but that the dialogue needed to get sparser the more inebriated the audience got, was echoed by some others. They’d also like more acts (i.e., some additional performers), and some of them will go hunting and see what they can find and rope in.
I didn’t make my pitch to have a full band perform some of my songs (though I still think it’s a good idea), but did tell Mary-Suzanne, who runs a comedy showcase at a club downtown, that I was interested in being part of one of her shows if she thought I’d fit in, and I reminded “ringmeistro” Whitney that I’d sent her the two “Joe Show” videos. One “sideways” approach to breaking into the Portland market is through the comedy clubs; a lot of what I do is classifiable as comedy (it’s even classifiable as standup comedy, since I’m standing up when I do it). I’m not sure how long before our next meeting.
I am going to be busy for the next few weeks, and not just with job interviews; Chris is in for a Failed Economy Show sequel, so I need to find us a lead player and we need to practice. Need a couple more songs, too. I’ve got Al David’s “Poverty Blues,” and maybe we can use Stan Good’s “Gimme Couple Billion of Them Bailout Bucks”—I don’t think we had that in the last show. Maybe there’s a couple more of mine that can be stretched to fit a Failed Economy Show theme.
Joe
All part of re-inventing myself, I guess. I think city management is probably out as a career now—the only interviews I’ve gotten for those jobs have been where a city manager who knew me was picking the folks to be interviewed, and abovementioned city managers are never the ones doing the actual hiring. I think I won’t have one of those jobs again unless I have that all-important college degree, I can’t get the degree without going back to school, and I have to—I think—have a decent-paying job to afford the classes. (Unemployment just changed their rules—again—to allow one to go to school while still drawing unemployment benefits. They used to prohibit that. I wonder if I can take advantage of it?)
The plus side is I can expect to have more time to play music. I want to push that as far as it will go, and until recently there never was the time. I will have to put into practice everything I’ve learned about economizing, because there will still not be enough money to do anything fancy.
Post-mortem on the Burlesque Show was Sunday. I think everybody’s committed to doing another show, but it will have to be done a bit differently, because the last show didn’t make any money. It wasn’t that we didn’t have a good crowd (and I don’t think anyone was turned off by the $8 gate fee), but the rent the Hawthorne Theater charged was pretty astronomical, and that alone ate up all the money, and then some.
We will do the next show in a different (and cheaper) place. We need a venue that can accommodate Lanolin’s fire-dancing stripper act—the Portland Fire Marshal doesn’t allow that sort of thing just anywhere. Ideally, the venue should be free; as a trade-off, we’d have to do it on a weeknight, but that might not be bad—there’s a lot of competition for the entertainment dollar on Friday and Saturday nights, and not many places to go the rest of the week. We could actually get a bigger crowd on a weeknight.
My suggestion that the show-long plot tying all the acts loosely together was good (and also unique), but that the dialogue needed to get sparser the more inebriated the audience got, was echoed by some others. They’d also like more acts (i.e., some additional performers), and some of them will go hunting and see what they can find and rope in.
I didn’t make my pitch to have a full band perform some of my songs (though I still think it’s a good idea), but did tell Mary-Suzanne, who runs a comedy showcase at a club downtown, that I was interested in being part of one of her shows if she thought I’d fit in, and I reminded “ringmeistro” Whitney that I’d sent her the two “Joe Show” videos. One “sideways” approach to breaking into the Portland market is through the comedy clubs; a lot of what I do is classifiable as comedy (it’s even classifiable as standup comedy, since I’m standing up when I do it). I’m not sure how long before our next meeting.
I am going to be busy for the next few weeks, and not just with job interviews; Chris is in for a Failed Economy Show sequel, so I need to find us a lead player and we need to practice. Need a couple more songs, too. I’ve got Al David’s “Poverty Blues,” and maybe we can use Stan Good’s “Gimme Couple Billion of Them Bailout Bucks”—I don’t think we had that in the last show. Maybe there’s a couple more of mine that can be stretched to fit a Failed Economy Show theme.
Joe
Monday, October 19, 2009
JADE LOUNGE AUDITION...
Setlist for the Jade lounge audition was:
Hey, Little Chicken (sleazy quasi-blues)
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Sam & Melinda (slow & sleazy)
Bungee Jumpin’ Jesus (mod. fast Gospel)
Crosses by the Roadside (mod. slow two-step)
The Termite Song (fast bluegrass)
I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas (slow & sleazy)
Almost exactly 30 minutes—and it showcased (in order, of all things) all the things I told the folks at Songstuff I wrote about: death (“Hey, Little Chicken”), lost love (“Dead Things”), betrayal (“Sam & Melinda”), religion (“Bungee Jumpin’ Jesus”), and dead animals (“Dead Dog”). Plus one serious song (“Crosses”) and one addressing a burning social issue (“The Termite Song”). Not a bad list, and I might use it again.
The Jade Lounge has good acoustics for a small place. They have a PA system I didn’t bother to use, but might next time—not because amplification is necessary, but because (like at the Burgerville gig) it’s good props. One looks more official, I think, standing behind a microphone, even if it’s not on. When I was in there, there were six people in the bar, not counting the staff—two couples eating, and one couple drinking. I think two of the couples were mostly paying attention. I have a definite fan in one of the staff.
I’m not sure how well their Sunday night open mike is working. (They’ve had one on Monday nights for a while, and it may be better.) Assigning people half-hour time slots is good, but I noticed the person before me and the one after me didn’t show up. (If it were my place, those two would be out of the running for the paying gig right there. I don’t hire people who don’t show up.)
If I were running it, I think I’d have the PA already set up and running, and would plug people in and set their sound levels, and introduce them—basically what Little Thom and his clones have done at the Wild Goose for years, and what Chris Parreira (and later Delonde Bell) did at NW Pizza. Doesn’t matter that there’s only six people in the joint. If things are going slow, I’d slip some musician $50 a week and say, “You run it—and be prepared to play three hours yourself if nobody shows up.” (Would I be willing to do that? Sure. It’d be an interesting experiment.)
It’s always possible the Jade Lounge turns into a more jumpin’ joint later in the evening (I wasn’t there much past 8 p.m.); I’d have to be there at a later time to see what the crowd (if there is one) was like. They (the staffperson fan, that is) do want me back, but all they were asking for starters is for me to come to another open mike next Sunday. I won’t be doing that; it’d be okay if I had a reason to be in Portland next Sunday, but I don’t—the Burlesque Troupe won’t be meeting.
TO-DOS: Lots of them—I have April Johns’ “Family Photo” to re-record, two Stan Good songs to musicate (his “Real Good Coffee and a Real Good Wife” is blatantly chauvinist, but a real fun Cajun-style romp), the Rap to write for the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig (I think I’ll actually have some people I know in the audience for that one), and the Failed Economy Show Sequel to organize. (Still need three more songs for that, to substitute for the ones I can’t sing very well.) Music Friday night at City Hall, and Saturday at the Library.
Joe
Hey, Little Chicken (sleazy quasi-blues)
Dead Things in the Shower (mod. fast two-step)
Sam & Melinda (slow & sleazy)
Bungee Jumpin’ Jesus (mod. fast Gospel)
Crosses by the Roadside (mod. slow two-step)
The Termite Song (fast bluegrass)
I’m Giving Mom a Dead Dog for Christmas (slow & sleazy)
Almost exactly 30 minutes—and it showcased (in order, of all things) all the things I told the folks at Songstuff I wrote about: death (“Hey, Little Chicken”), lost love (“Dead Things”), betrayal (“Sam & Melinda”), religion (“Bungee Jumpin’ Jesus”), and dead animals (“Dead Dog”). Plus one serious song (“Crosses”) and one addressing a burning social issue (“The Termite Song”). Not a bad list, and I might use it again.
The Jade Lounge has good acoustics for a small place. They have a PA system I didn’t bother to use, but might next time—not because amplification is necessary, but because (like at the Burgerville gig) it’s good props. One looks more official, I think, standing behind a microphone, even if it’s not on. When I was in there, there were six people in the bar, not counting the staff—two couples eating, and one couple drinking. I think two of the couples were mostly paying attention. I have a definite fan in one of the staff.
I’m not sure how well their Sunday night open mike is working. (They’ve had one on Monday nights for a while, and it may be better.) Assigning people half-hour time slots is good, but I noticed the person before me and the one after me didn’t show up. (If it were my place, those two would be out of the running for the paying gig right there. I don’t hire people who don’t show up.)
If I were running it, I think I’d have the PA already set up and running, and would plug people in and set their sound levels, and introduce them—basically what Little Thom and his clones have done at the Wild Goose for years, and what Chris Parreira (and later Delonde Bell) did at NW Pizza. Doesn’t matter that there’s only six people in the joint. If things are going slow, I’d slip some musician $50 a week and say, “You run it—and be prepared to play three hours yourself if nobody shows up.” (Would I be willing to do that? Sure. It’d be an interesting experiment.)
It’s always possible the Jade Lounge turns into a more jumpin’ joint later in the evening (I wasn’t there much past 8 p.m.); I’d have to be there at a later time to see what the crowd (if there is one) was like. They (the staffperson fan, that is) do want me back, but all they were asking for starters is for me to come to another open mike next Sunday. I won’t be doing that; it’d be okay if I had a reason to be in Portland next Sunday, but I don’t—the Burlesque Troupe won’t be meeting.
TO-DOS: Lots of them—I have April Johns’ “Family Photo” to re-record, two Stan Good songs to musicate (his “Real Good Coffee and a Real Good Wife” is blatantly chauvinist, but a real fun Cajun-style romp), the Rap to write for the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig (I think I’ll actually have some people I know in the audience for that one), and the Failed Economy Show Sequel to organize. (Still need three more songs for that, to substitute for the ones I can’t sing very well.) Music Friday night at City Hall, and Saturday at the Library.
Joe
Friday, October 16, 2009
AS IT GETS BUSY...
Well, I wanted to have stuff to do, didn’t I? I think I will be busy for a while. I have an audition at the Jade Lounge in Portland on Sunday (timed it so it’d be just after our Burlesque Troupe post-mortem, if it happens), the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig the following Saturday, a “proofreading test” to take for a state job Wednesday (yes, I’m driving 2-1/2 hours into Portland to take a test I know I’ll pass with 100-plus other people—times are hard). And, I think, another Failed Economy Show to organize and promote. And that’s just this week.
Iit looks like the “Failed Economy Show Sequel” is going to fly—drummer Chris is excited, and just wants to make sure he’s got the day/evening free. As soon as I get confirmation from him, I’ll contact lead players; I have two who said they really wanted to play with us, but just weren’t available on Rocktoberfest Saturday. With luck, one or both will be free November 14. I promised Chris and John we wouldn’t try to practice until after Nov. 1, to accommodate their work schedules. (And I already got one donation for the Food Pantry in the mail.)
We can keep most of the setlist from the last Failed Economy Show, so it won’t entail a lot of practice. There are maybe four songs I’d like to change out, because we couldn’t do them very well (hard for me to sing). I asked the writers at Just Plain Folks for material, and had one from Al David by the next morning—a bouncy, 1940s-country thing I think the band could do without any trouble. New lyrics from Stan Good, too; his “Let’s Party in 2012” is a good rock ‘n’ roll dance number, and would make a great companion to the late Jeff Tanzer’s waltz, “The Day the Earth Stood Still.”
A couple folks cooked up the idea of flying Polly Hager out from Cincinnati to sing with us, and I would really, really like that—and they’d even started soliciting money for the plane fare. I asked them to hold off, because three weeks’ notice is too premature (and short-notice plane tickets are way too expensive); if we could do this in the spring—or any time next year, really—and I could have about two months to work on publicity, we could put on a heck of a show. “Polly Hager and Deathgrass” could be the biggest event this area has seen in years, and could raise tons for the Food Bank.
I can use the setlist from my Burgerville solo performance 25 August for the Insomnia Coffee Co. show on Oct. 24. I will rearrange things a little bit; the band have gotten into the habit of starting shows with “Dead Things in the Shower,” and I think I’ll do that here, too. The show is a week before Hallowe’en, and the setlist even includes both my “Hallowe’en-friendly” songs, “Vampire Roumanian Babies” and “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails.”
The “Joe Show” videos are getting some—belated—attention, encouraging me to do more. (I haven’t done one in a while—“French video” is a big time-consumer.) I do have a couple of tricks I want to try, using the digital camera as a video camera, but I’ll take it slow. I want to film Rufus the dog (for “Me & Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House”), but for practice, I think I’ll film a little travelogue of the garage studio. (That won’t take long—the studio meansures 5-by-7 feet, and the most interesting thing in it may be the plastic flowers.) Since I don’t want to waste anything I do, it’d be nice to match that up to a soundtrack. I wonder what would work?
There may be a potential outlet for exposure of the videos, too: Whitney (of the “Life’s SubtleTease” burlesque troupe) does a monthly showcase of standup comedy that includes some comedy videos. I sent her the two “Joe Show” videos; I don’t know if she’ll be interested.
I think I figured out how to film myself singing, too—I just have to have somebody else operate the camera. (I can think of a couple of people who might do that.) The digital camera can’t record a soundtrack, of course; it’d have to be matched up to a soundtrack recorded separately. How to do that? Record the audio first, I think, and then play it back through either headphones or speakers while the filming’s going on, so I can match my hand and mouth movements to the soundtrack. Could record leads separately the same way. Hey, is this how the big boys do it?
Joe
Iit looks like the “Failed Economy Show Sequel” is going to fly—drummer Chris is excited, and just wants to make sure he’s got the day/evening free. As soon as I get confirmation from him, I’ll contact lead players; I have two who said they really wanted to play with us, but just weren’t available on Rocktoberfest Saturday. With luck, one or both will be free November 14. I promised Chris and John we wouldn’t try to practice until after Nov. 1, to accommodate their work schedules. (And I already got one donation for the Food Pantry in the mail.)
We can keep most of the setlist from the last Failed Economy Show, so it won’t entail a lot of practice. There are maybe four songs I’d like to change out, because we couldn’t do them very well (hard for me to sing). I asked the writers at Just Plain Folks for material, and had one from Al David by the next morning—a bouncy, 1940s-country thing I think the band could do without any trouble. New lyrics from Stan Good, too; his “Let’s Party in 2012” is a good rock ‘n’ roll dance number, and would make a great companion to the late Jeff Tanzer’s waltz, “The Day the Earth Stood Still.”
A couple folks cooked up the idea of flying Polly Hager out from Cincinnati to sing with us, and I would really, really like that—and they’d even started soliciting money for the plane fare. I asked them to hold off, because three weeks’ notice is too premature (and short-notice plane tickets are way too expensive); if we could do this in the spring—or any time next year, really—and I could have about two months to work on publicity, we could put on a heck of a show. “Polly Hager and Deathgrass” could be the biggest event this area has seen in years, and could raise tons for the Food Bank.
I can use the setlist from my Burgerville solo performance 25 August for the Insomnia Coffee Co. show on Oct. 24. I will rearrange things a little bit; the band have gotten into the habit of starting shows with “Dead Things in the Shower,” and I think I’ll do that here, too. The show is a week before Hallowe’en, and the setlist even includes both my “Hallowe’en-friendly” songs, “Vampire Roumanian Babies” and “Love Trails of the Zombie Snails.”
The “Joe Show” videos are getting some—belated—attention, encouraging me to do more. (I haven’t done one in a while—“French video” is a big time-consumer.) I do have a couple of tricks I want to try, using the digital camera as a video camera, but I’ll take it slow. I want to film Rufus the dog (for “Me & Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House”), but for practice, I think I’ll film a little travelogue of the garage studio. (That won’t take long—the studio meansures 5-by-7 feet, and the most interesting thing in it may be the plastic flowers.) Since I don’t want to waste anything I do, it’d be nice to match that up to a soundtrack. I wonder what would work?
There may be a potential outlet for exposure of the videos, too: Whitney (of the “Life’s SubtleTease” burlesque troupe) does a monthly showcase of standup comedy that includes some comedy videos. I sent her the two “Joe Show” videos; I don’t know if she’ll be interested.
I think I figured out how to film myself singing, too—I just have to have somebody else operate the camera. (I can think of a couple of people who might do that.) The digital camera can’t record a soundtrack, of course; it’d have to be matched up to a soundtrack recorded separately. How to do that? Record the audio first, I think, and then play it back through either headphones or speakers while the filming’s going on, so I can match my hand and mouth movements to the soundtrack. Could record leads separately the same way. Hey, is this how the big boys do it?
Joe
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
APRIL'S OTHER SONG (AND THE FOOD BANK)...
April’s other song is done—“Family Photo.” A good old cheatin’-heart kind of song, but one where the woman leaves the cheater dude (and takes the kids and dog, too). One reason I like musicating other people’s songs is I get to address serious issues without having to write about them myself. I get to preserve my image as the guy who probably can’t take anything seriously (and then when I do write something serious—which I’ve done all of five times in 30-odd years—it has greater impact because it comes as such a surprise).
I gave “Family Photo” more of a rock beat, both to accommodate April’s Mary Milleresque voice and because I wanted to make sure it sounded different. I had one person complain (well, comment) that a lot of my music sounds the same, and I want to avoid that; it is a danger in country music, where one is dealing with a limited number of chords and progressions—and a particular danger for me, since I have to deal additionally with my one-octave voice range and limited guitar-playing ability. And in this case, I knew the music was coming in large part from two songs I’d done before, one for Stan Good and one for me, and I didn’t want it to be too obvious. So “Family Photo” is in a different key (also accommodating April’s voice) and has the bass doing 12-bar blues runs in the background rather than “country stuff.”.
So now, both “Family Photo” and “Sometimes Country Boys Get the Blues” are up on April’s OMDs, with her vocals, and she’s happy with them. And I’m glad. I find myself still listening more to my renditions of both songs, even though they’re not for public consumption (and April has a much better voice); it’s partly because I think I can learn from what I did. I do like my phrasing better—I was told once that it was possible to spot a Joe Song because the phrasing tended to be unique, though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing—but I’m not about to tell someone what they should do (and I am definitely not going to say they should do what I do).
Poster for the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig is done, and sent out to the “joelist”; notice on Facebook, too. I’ll take posters with me when I go to Portland Sunday, and distribute them to the Usual Outlets, plus give some to the Burlesque Troupe when we meet for our post-mortem (maybe I should say “If”—it’s been postponed twice), and leave some at the coffeehouse. I’d like to find an inoffensive way of getting posters to both the Hillsboro Chamber of Commerce (who were kind enough to give me directions when I was trying to find the coffeehouse the first time) and to the city manager in Hillsboro (whom I know); maybe there isn’t an easy way to do it.
Got the disturbing news that last Friday, the Garibaldi Food Bank ran out of food. Yes, they should have gotten a big pile of food two days later courtesy of the “Rocktoberfest” concert, but that’s still operating awfully close to the wire for these troubled times—and Thanksgiving is coming up, too. I have suggested it is maybe time to put on another Failed Economy Show concert. The City Hall Dance Floor is available Saturday, 14 November, because the square dancers cancelled. (And that’s the only Saturday the Dance Floor will be free before Thanksgiving, too.)
A few to-dos before that can happen: John (bass) is up for it, but I still have to talk to Chris (drums). We’ll need a lead player, and I have two to contact who said they were interested—I just don’t know if they’re available for that date. There are three (I think) songs from the original 2-hour setlist that I’d change out, because they were difficult to sing and the audience wasn’t all that entranced by them, anyway—but I’ll have to figure out what to substitute. And hey, I know a local radio station DJ now, courtesy of the “Rocktoberfest.” I bet he’d be tappable to help with promotion.
Joe
I gave “Family Photo” more of a rock beat, both to accommodate April’s Mary Milleresque voice and because I wanted to make sure it sounded different. I had one person complain (well, comment) that a lot of my music sounds the same, and I want to avoid that; it is a danger in country music, where one is dealing with a limited number of chords and progressions—and a particular danger for me, since I have to deal additionally with my one-octave voice range and limited guitar-playing ability. And in this case, I knew the music was coming in large part from two songs I’d done before, one for Stan Good and one for me, and I didn’t want it to be too obvious. So “Family Photo” is in a different key (also accommodating April’s voice) and has the bass doing 12-bar blues runs in the background rather than “country stuff.”.
So now, both “Family Photo” and “Sometimes Country Boys Get the Blues” are up on April’s OMDs, with her vocals, and she’s happy with them. And I’m glad. I find myself still listening more to my renditions of both songs, even though they’re not for public consumption (and April has a much better voice); it’s partly because I think I can learn from what I did. I do like my phrasing better—I was told once that it was possible to spot a Joe Song because the phrasing tended to be unique, though I’m not sure if that’s a good thing—but I’m not about to tell someone what they should do (and I am definitely not going to say they should do what I do).
Poster for the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig is done, and sent out to the “joelist”; notice on Facebook, too. I’ll take posters with me when I go to Portland Sunday, and distribute them to the Usual Outlets, plus give some to the Burlesque Troupe when we meet for our post-mortem (maybe I should say “If”—it’s been postponed twice), and leave some at the coffeehouse. I’d like to find an inoffensive way of getting posters to both the Hillsboro Chamber of Commerce (who were kind enough to give me directions when I was trying to find the coffeehouse the first time) and to the city manager in Hillsboro (whom I know); maybe there isn’t an easy way to do it.
Got the disturbing news that last Friday, the Garibaldi Food Bank ran out of food. Yes, they should have gotten a big pile of food two days later courtesy of the “Rocktoberfest” concert, but that’s still operating awfully close to the wire for these troubled times—and Thanksgiving is coming up, too. I have suggested it is maybe time to put on another Failed Economy Show concert. The City Hall Dance Floor is available Saturday, 14 November, because the square dancers cancelled. (And that’s the only Saturday the Dance Floor will be free before Thanksgiving, too.)
A few to-dos before that can happen: John (bass) is up for it, but I still have to talk to Chris (drums). We’ll need a lead player, and I have two to contact who said they were interested—I just don’t know if they’re available for that date. There are three (I think) songs from the original 2-hour setlist that I’d change out, because they were difficult to sing and the audience wasn’t all that entranced by them, anyway—but I’ll have to figure out what to substitute. And hey, I know a local radio station DJ now, courtesy of the “Rocktoberfest.” I bet he’d be tappable to help with promotion.
Joe
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
MUSICATING APRIL...
I spent most of the day following our performance at the “Rocktoberfest” unable to get the songs on our setlist out of my head. I did hit on a solution, though. With nothing musical on the immediate horizon, and no immediate commitments except applying for more jobs I probably won’t get, now was the time to musicate something—fill my brain with a different melody, as it were.
So April Johns’ “Sometimes Country Boys Get the Blues” finally got its music. It didn’t come out exactly like I expected: I’d envisioned something rather slow and mournful, something one would put a wailing fiddle to—but what I got instead was a definite swing beat, with marginally (but noticeably) increasing tempo and volume. By the end of the song, it rocks—and hopefully, people would be out on the dance floor. If a fiddle were playing along with this, it wouldn’t—and couldn’t—be mournful at all. (I don’t have a fiddle, of course. All I have to work with is a lead guitar. But April has a band. I don’t know what they could do with this.)
Myself, I think I like it—when I keep hitting the “replay” button on the computer, it’s usually a good sign. Of course, I like the contrast between relatively mournful lyrics and upbeat music; I’ve done that a few times now (and need to watch out it doesn’t become a trademark). But it panders a little, too, to the predilections of the Music Industry as I understand them: they reportedly don’t want ”power ballads,” because the industry has a plethora of them—every artist has written ‘em, and they’ll perform their own, no matter how bad, rather than somebody else’s. The Music Industry says they want upbeat, uptempo songs, which are supposedly harder to write (I hadn’t noticed—most of my songs are uptempo). So April’s song is more marketable this way.
(April did like it—said it grows on you (I agree)—and recorded her own vocal to it. She has a growly, wide-range voice ideal for blues—reminiscent of Mary Miller, who was singing when I first moved to Garibaldi, nine years ago. She should sing more. I’m glad she’s working with a band.) One more April Johns song to musicate, “Family Portrait,” a heartrending lost love song. Now that I know what April sounds like, we’ll see what I can do with that.
I think the band are excited about doing more gigs, now that our “Rocktoberfest” performance came off so well (and we got such good reviews). I’ve advised John and Chris I’ll stick to their original request, though, and not book anything until after the end of October; that’ll give John time to get work out of the way at City Hall, and accommodate Chris’s work at the Port—with fishing so good, this fall is likely to be the busiest season of the year on the waterfront. They, like me, are anxious to hear how organizer (and music teacher) Mike Simpson’s recording of our live performance came out.
Gave John the recording I have of “Test Tube Baby,” the old (1977?) Dodson Drifters hit recorded two years ago with Gem Watson on drums, bass, and lead guitar. With Southern Pigfish’s “For Their own Ends” a bona fide (if incomprehensible) hit with audiences, I think we should do more rock ‘n’ roll songs. And “Test Tube Baby” is a classic.
Elsewhere: No word from Insomnia Coffee about what time I’m playing (and I need that for the posters)—I’ll have to call them. Music this Friday and Saturday, and hopefully the Burlesque Show post-mortem on Sunday (it’s been postponed twice); I’ll go in early and distribute Insomnia gig posters. I don’t know if I’ll try any more Portland open mikes.
Joe
So April Johns’ “Sometimes Country Boys Get the Blues” finally got its music. It didn’t come out exactly like I expected: I’d envisioned something rather slow and mournful, something one would put a wailing fiddle to—but what I got instead was a definite swing beat, with marginally (but noticeably) increasing tempo and volume. By the end of the song, it rocks—and hopefully, people would be out on the dance floor. If a fiddle were playing along with this, it wouldn’t—and couldn’t—be mournful at all. (I don’t have a fiddle, of course. All I have to work with is a lead guitar. But April has a band. I don’t know what they could do with this.)
Myself, I think I like it—when I keep hitting the “replay” button on the computer, it’s usually a good sign. Of course, I like the contrast between relatively mournful lyrics and upbeat music; I’ve done that a few times now (and need to watch out it doesn’t become a trademark). But it panders a little, too, to the predilections of the Music Industry as I understand them: they reportedly don’t want ”power ballads,” because the industry has a plethora of them—every artist has written ‘em, and they’ll perform their own, no matter how bad, rather than somebody else’s. The Music Industry says they want upbeat, uptempo songs, which are supposedly harder to write (I hadn’t noticed—most of my songs are uptempo). So April’s song is more marketable this way.
(April did like it—said it grows on you (I agree)—and recorded her own vocal to it. She has a growly, wide-range voice ideal for blues—reminiscent of Mary Miller, who was singing when I first moved to Garibaldi, nine years ago. She should sing more. I’m glad she’s working with a band.) One more April Johns song to musicate, “Family Portrait,” a heartrending lost love song. Now that I know what April sounds like, we’ll see what I can do with that.
I think the band are excited about doing more gigs, now that our “Rocktoberfest” performance came off so well (and we got such good reviews). I’ve advised John and Chris I’ll stick to their original request, though, and not book anything until after the end of October; that’ll give John time to get work out of the way at City Hall, and accommodate Chris’s work at the Port—with fishing so good, this fall is likely to be the busiest season of the year on the waterfront. They, like me, are anxious to hear how organizer (and music teacher) Mike Simpson’s recording of our live performance came out.
Gave John the recording I have of “Test Tube Baby,” the old (1977?) Dodson Drifters hit recorded two years ago with Gem Watson on drums, bass, and lead guitar. With Southern Pigfish’s “For Their own Ends” a bona fide (if incomprehensible) hit with audiences, I think we should do more rock ‘n’ roll songs. And “Test Tube Baby” is a classic.
Elsewhere: No word from Insomnia Coffee about what time I’m playing (and I need that for the posters)—I’ll have to call them. Music this Friday and Saturday, and hopefully the Burlesque Show post-mortem on Sunday (it’s been postponed twice); I’ll go in early and distribute Insomnia gig posters. I don’t know if I’ll try any more Portland open mikes.
Joe
Saturday, October 10, 2009
"ROCKTOBERFEST" POST-MORTEM...
OThe “Rocktoberfest” show went good. (I attribute it primarily to our being practiced.) No flubs (at least not any noticeable ones), and the few special tidbits—the stops for the bass runs in “Tillamook Railroad Blues” and the deliberately slowing-down last line in “No Good Songs About the War”—came off without a hitch, and made us seem uber-professional.
Small audience, of course—one shouldn’t expect otherwise at 10:00 on a Saturday morning—but it included some folks I recognized, that I’m pretty sure were there just to see us. And we had the captive audience, of course—the vendors, “Rocktoberfest” staff, and the schoolkids who’d been enlisted to do everything from man the gates to be roadies for the bands’ equipment.
The stage was a hollowed-out semi trailer provided (I think) by the radio station, wired for electricity; I think they got that trick from the first “Moograss” bluegrass festival in Tillamook (on a cold, windy and rainy Labor Day weekend), when we retreated from the outdoor stage and found a dairy barn with a flatbed semi trailer parked in it, and said “Aha! Instant stage!” The sound inside the metal trailer was awful (of course), even with monitors, but folks in the audience said we sounded great.
We started late (also de rigeur for opening acts), because the sound crew hadn’t finished stringing up lights; that meant we did a 40-minute set (like all the bands after us were going to do), rather than a full hour, but it was okay—we knew everything, and it was easy to cut stuff to fit.
For some reason, “Dead Things in the Shower” appeals primarily to women, and “Bluebird on My Windshield” mostly to guys; we’ve been playing both every show, and it’s probably important to keep it that way. Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street” is a never-ending hit, and so is Gene Burnett’s “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse.” And the band does a tremendous job on both.
The one new one (for us) that we did was “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You.” Very fast bluegrass; we did all nine verses with no breaks (not having a lead player), and I think it actually comes across better that way. The song follows a suicide, stage by stage, from jumping off the cliff to finally being buried—with increasingly caustic comments about the girl he’s leaving behind—and not having any breaks makes the whole thing feel more manic.
Tried a trick, too, to cover for the absence of a lead player. We have to have a break in the middle of “For Their own Ends,” the Southern Pigfish song, so I can rest my voice; the song’s got seven verses, and is in a key that’s hard for me to sing in—but I can’t do much on the guitar besides the rhythm rock progression I’m already doing. When we were practicing Wednesday night, John tried some bass “fills” in the break that sounded really good (I’d never thought of a bass lead)—so on Friday, he tried doing the same thing to some of the more country songs, and that sounded good, too. So in concert, “Armadillo on the Interstate,” “No Good Songs About the War,” “Tillamook Railroad Blues” and “For Their Own Ends” all got bass leads. It worked well. When Dick comes back from vacation, we are going to be SO good…
We were followed on stage by an acoustic folk duo (perfect—we won’t be compared to another band). And we were recorded! Mike Simpson (the music teacher, and organizer of the “Rocktoberfest”) brought equipment from his recording studio, and caught (I think) our entire performance on—well, it’s not tape these days, but whatever they use instead of tape. He said we came across great, and I can’t wait to listen.
UPCOMING for the band is more recording for the album, though not until after the end of the month; no immediate shows on the horizon, but I don’t know what business might result from our “Rocktoberfest” performance. For myself, I’ve got the solo Insomnia Coffee Co. gig in Hillsboro Oct. 24—and the burlesque troupe is going to do a post-mortem Oct. 11 (which, as this is written, is tomorrow).
Joe
Small audience, of course—one shouldn’t expect otherwise at 10:00 on a Saturday morning—but it included some folks I recognized, that I’m pretty sure were there just to see us. And we had the captive audience, of course—the vendors, “Rocktoberfest” staff, and the schoolkids who’d been enlisted to do everything from man the gates to be roadies for the bands’ equipment.
The stage was a hollowed-out semi trailer provided (I think) by the radio station, wired for electricity; I think they got that trick from the first “Moograss” bluegrass festival in Tillamook (on a cold, windy and rainy Labor Day weekend), when we retreated from the outdoor stage and found a dairy barn with a flatbed semi trailer parked in it, and said “Aha! Instant stage!” The sound inside the metal trailer was awful (of course), even with monitors, but folks in the audience said we sounded great.
We started late (also de rigeur for opening acts), because the sound crew hadn’t finished stringing up lights; that meant we did a 40-minute set (like all the bands after us were going to do), rather than a full hour, but it was okay—we knew everything, and it was easy to cut stuff to fit.
For some reason, “Dead Things in the Shower” appeals primarily to women, and “Bluebird on My Windshield” mostly to guys; we’ve been playing both every show, and it’s probably important to keep it that way. Stan Good’s “Un-Easy Street” is a never-ending hit, and so is Gene Burnett’s “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse.” And the band does a tremendous job on both.
The one new one (for us) that we did was “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You.” Very fast bluegrass; we did all nine verses with no breaks (not having a lead player), and I think it actually comes across better that way. The song follows a suicide, stage by stage, from jumping off the cliff to finally being buried—with increasingly caustic comments about the girl he’s leaving behind—and not having any breaks makes the whole thing feel more manic.
Tried a trick, too, to cover for the absence of a lead player. We have to have a break in the middle of “For Their own Ends,” the Southern Pigfish song, so I can rest my voice; the song’s got seven verses, and is in a key that’s hard for me to sing in—but I can’t do much on the guitar besides the rhythm rock progression I’m already doing. When we were practicing Wednesday night, John tried some bass “fills” in the break that sounded really good (I’d never thought of a bass lead)—so on Friday, he tried doing the same thing to some of the more country songs, and that sounded good, too. So in concert, “Armadillo on the Interstate,” “No Good Songs About the War,” “Tillamook Railroad Blues” and “For Their Own Ends” all got bass leads. It worked well. When Dick comes back from vacation, we are going to be SO good…
We were followed on stage by an acoustic folk duo (perfect—we won’t be compared to another band). And we were recorded! Mike Simpson (the music teacher, and organizer of the “Rocktoberfest”) brought equipment from his recording studio, and caught (I think) our entire performance on—well, it’s not tape these days, but whatever they use instead of tape. He said we came across great, and I can’t wait to listen.
UPCOMING for the band is more recording for the album, though not until after the end of the month; no immediate shows on the horizon, but I don’t know what business might result from our “Rocktoberfest” performance. For myself, I’ve got the solo Insomnia Coffee Co. gig in Hillsboro Oct. 24—and the burlesque troupe is going to do a post-mortem Oct. 11 (which, as this is written, is tomorrow).
Joe
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
"NO" FROM THE AUDITION...
Back from southern Oregon… Almost an 11-hour trip, what with stops at the towing company to pick up the Big Yellow Tip Bucket (retrieved from the T-bird before they destroyed it) and buy a couple of spare tires (because I had a blowout on the way), and the audition at the Capitol Coffee House in Portland.
It was a “no” from Capitol Coffee, and I probably should have expected that was going to happen. The reason the owner hadn’t been answering my e-mails was he really wasn’t interested in my playing there; he hadn’t scheduled me for an audition, did give me a perfunctory one because I showed up (and he knew I was from way out of town), but was obviously distracted while I was doing it, and told me after hearing a verse and chorus of three songs that I was a pretty good guitarist (duh) but not what he wanted in his restaurant. I am not sure what he wanted—probably soft rock or jazz (Portlanders like that stuff), and a duo or trio would probably work best in the space he had.
So I thanked him for listening to me (having figured out I was really wasting his time, and he was being nice about it), and wished luck to the duo that had been scheduled to audition. The owner’s goal is to have live music there seven nights a week—paid live music, in fact—and one has to encourage that (and I did). Even if it’s not me. I was just overly excited about the prospect because I have friends who live in the neighborhood, and I was pretty sure they’d come to see me if I was playing there. The lesson (there are always lessons) is to not be so full of myself that I can’t recognize rejection before it happens.
There is plenty to do. The band practices tonight (Wednesday) for Saturday’s “Rocktoberfest” gig; music Friday night (of course), and there will be a cast meeting of the burlesque troupe Sunday to do a post-mortem on the Sept. 26 show (the post-mortem was rescheduled from last Sunday because a lot of the cast couldn’t make it). I do have the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig two weeks from now, on Sat. Oct. 24 (so being rejected by one coffeehouse isn’t a confidence-destroying thing). Rap to work out for the “Rocktoberfest,” and also for Insomnia.
Setlist for the “Rocktoberfest” currently looks like this:
Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step, no break)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy, half the breaks)
Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass, maybe keep the break)
Tillamook Railroad Blues (deliberate blues, one break)
Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse (mod. fast two-step, maybe keep the break)
No Good Songs About the War (slow two-step, maybe keep the break)
When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You (fast bluegrass, no breaks)
For Their Own Ends (folk-rock, keep the break)
Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step, one break)
Welcome to Hebo Waltz (fast waltz, no breaks)
Rotten Candy (fast Gospel, keep the break—it’s simple)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues, no break)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass, keep the breaks)
Un-Easy Street (mod. two-step, no break)
A fellow at the music store recommended a guitar player, but I don’t know him and haven’t contacted him. At this point, I think it’s too late to inject anything more new. We’ll do the show as a trio.
Joe
It was a “no” from Capitol Coffee, and I probably should have expected that was going to happen. The reason the owner hadn’t been answering my e-mails was he really wasn’t interested in my playing there; he hadn’t scheduled me for an audition, did give me a perfunctory one because I showed up (and he knew I was from way out of town), but was obviously distracted while I was doing it, and told me after hearing a verse and chorus of three songs that I was a pretty good guitarist (duh) but not what he wanted in his restaurant. I am not sure what he wanted—probably soft rock or jazz (Portlanders like that stuff), and a duo or trio would probably work best in the space he had.
So I thanked him for listening to me (having figured out I was really wasting his time, and he was being nice about it), and wished luck to the duo that had been scheduled to audition. The owner’s goal is to have live music there seven nights a week—paid live music, in fact—and one has to encourage that (and I did). Even if it’s not me. I was just overly excited about the prospect because I have friends who live in the neighborhood, and I was pretty sure they’d come to see me if I was playing there. The lesson (there are always lessons) is to not be so full of myself that I can’t recognize rejection before it happens.
There is plenty to do. The band practices tonight (Wednesday) for Saturday’s “Rocktoberfest” gig; music Friday night (of course), and there will be a cast meeting of the burlesque troupe Sunday to do a post-mortem on the Sept. 26 show (the post-mortem was rescheduled from last Sunday because a lot of the cast couldn’t make it). I do have the Insomnia Coffee Co. gig two weeks from now, on Sat. Oct. 24 (so being rejected by one coffeehouse isn’t a confidence-destroying thing). Rap to work out for the “Rocktoberfest,” and also for Insomnia.
Setlist for the “Rocktoberfest” currently looks like this:
Dead Things in the Shower (fast two-step, no break)
Armadillo on the Interstate (slow & sleazy, half the breaks)
Bluebird on My Windshield (fast bluegrass, maybe keep the break)
Tillamook Railroad Blues (deliberate blues, one break)
Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse (mod. fast two-step, maybe keep the break)
No Good Songs About the War (slow two-step, maybe keep the break)
When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You (fast bluegrass, no breaks)
For Their Own Ends (folk-rock, keep the break)
Duct Tape (mod. fast two-step, one break)
Welcome to Hebo Waltz (fast waltz, no breaks)
Rotten Candy (fast Gospel, keep the break—it’s simple)
Eatin’ Cornflakes from a Hubcap Blues (mod. slow quasi-blues, no break)
Free-Range Person (fast bluegrass, keep the breaks)
Un-Easy Street (mod. two-step, no break)
A fellow at the music store recommended a guitar player, but I don’t know him and haven’t contacted him. At this point, I think it’s too late to inject anything more new. We’ll do the show as a trio.
Joe
Monday, October 5, 2009
THOUGHTS ON THE ROAD...
On the laptop... The laptop (no name yet) travels with me wherever I go these days, just like the cell phone. I have become appallingly 21st Century. Perhaps the pleasure of owning a 23-year-old froofrooless truck is compensation.
The Wild Goose was fun; the crowd there got “Crosses by the Roadside” (prefaced with apologies for playing ‘em a serious song), Derek Hines’ “I Want to Come Back as a Stripper Pole” and–as a surprise for Gene Burnett–his “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse,” which has become such a hit with our band. All with the incomparable George Clark on blues harp. Host Frankie Hernandez’ comment–“I’d like to write a song good enough for Joe Wrabek to cover it”–is, I think, one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received.
I seem to be getting a reputation as a writer. I don’t think it’s deserved–it’s tempting to echo one of the Roman “Silver Age” writers (I think it was Sallust) and say, “Look, if you think my stuff is good, it means the quality of Roman literature has really declined.” Still, it does feel good when somebody acts like a compliment from me on their writing is special, when people are anxious for me to musicate something they’ve written–heck, when they just miss my stuff when I’m not there.
Of course, all that is mostly within a small circle of friends–but they are mostly good writers, and I highly respect their opinions. I would like to enlarge that “small” if I can. I don’t think commercial success as important as I did 20 years ago (maybe because I no longer respect the opinions of a lot of the people who control the music industry), but I would like to prove, I think, that I can play their game, too. (And reach more people, of course. That’s hard to do exclusively on one’s own.) Beyond that... I overheard one college student at the Wild Goose defending his choice of a career path–as a magician: “I don’t need to make a fortune at it. I just want to make a living at it.” Me too.
“Crosses” is a sad song, but I noticed the audience listened to every word. Sunday was Sharma’s memorial service in Longview, roughly 400 miles away from where I am. I hope it went well.
The fish hatchery job interview went well (most of my job interviews have); in this case, they’re only interviewing 11 people instead of the 50 to 100 that have become de rigeur for state jobs since the economy fell apart. I may know in a couple of weeks. I also heard about another city-manager job (also in southern Oregon) that might be going vacant because the city manager is being hired away.
The gig at the Insomnia Coffee Co. is official–it’ll be Saturday, Oct. 24, time for me to do some promoting. Audition at another coffeehouse en route home, this one in southwest Portland (close to the home of a couple of friends of mine). They pay their musicians–not much, but it’s nice to see someone taking seriously the Biblical admonition: “The laborer is worth his hire.” That one’s a 3-hour show; it’ll use up just about everything good I’ve written.
For the Insomnia gig, I will definitely need the Big Yellow Tip Bucket, which is still in the trunk of the Officially Totalled Thunderbird. (I talked to the towing company, and they’ll save it for me to pick up.) It’ll be a long trip home, with a lot of stops.
Joe
The Wild Goose was fun; the crowd there got “Crosses by the Roadside” (prefaced with apologies for playing ‘em a serious song), Derek Hines’ “I Want to Come Back as a Stripper Pole” and–as a surprise for Gene Burnett–his “Things Are Getting Better Now That Things Are Getting Worse,” which has become such a hit with our band. All with the incomparable George Clark on blues harp. Host Frankie Hernandez’ comment–“I’d like to write a song good enough for Joe Wrabek to cover it”–is, I think, one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received.
I seem to be getting a reputation as a writer. I don’t think it’s deserved–it’s tempting to echo one of the Roman “Silver Age” writers (I think it was Sallust) and say, “Look, if you think my stuff is good, it means the quality of Roman literature has really declined.” Still, it does feel good when somebody acts like a compliment from me on their writing is special, when people are anxious for me to musicate something they’ve written–heck, when they just miss my stuff when I’m not there.
Of course, all that is mostly within a small circle of friends–but they are mostly good writers, and I highly respect their opinions. I would like to enlarge that “small” if I can. I don’t think commercial success as important as I did 20 years ago (maybe because I no longer respect the opinions of a lot of the people who control the music industry), but I would like to prove, I think, that I can play their game, too. (And reach more people, of course. That’s hard to do exclusively on one’s own.) Beyond that... I overheard one college student at the Wild Goose defending his choice of a career path–as a magician: “I don’t need to make a fortune at it. I just want to make a living at it.” Me too.
“Crosses” is a sad song, but I noticed the audience listened to every word. Sunday was Sharma’s memorial service in Longview, roughly 400 miles away from where I am. I hope it went well.
The fish hatchery job interview went well (most of my job interviews have); in this case, they’re only interviewing 11 people instead of the 50 to 100 that have become de rigeur for state jobs since the economy fell apart. I may know in a couple of weeks. I also heard about another city-manager job (also in southern Oregon) that might be going vacant because the city manager is being hired away.
The gig at the Insomnia Coffee Co. is official–it’ll be Saturday, Oct. 24, time for me to do some promoting. Audition at another coffeehouse en route home, this one in southwest Portland (close to the home of a couple of friends of mine). They pay their musicians–not much, but it’s nice to see someone taking seriously the Biblical admonition: “The laborer is worth his hire.” That one’s a 3-hour show; it’ll use up just about everything good I’ve written.
For the Insomnia gig, I will definitely need the Big Yellow Tip Bucket, which is still in the trunk of the Officially Totalled Thunderbird. (I talked to the towing company, and they’ll save it for me to pick up.) It’ll be a long trip home, with a lot of stops.
Joe
Friday, October 2, 2009
I HAVE A TRUCK!
A riddle. What’s new and 23 years old? My truck! Paid for it and picked it up a day after insurance advised the crashed Thunderbird was a total loss (mostly because of its age) and they were sending me a check. A small check, but it’s enough to buy the truck—a 1986 Toyota Nothing Special, with lockable canopy (good), standard transmission (real good), a little rust (not good), the little engine that Toyota made for years and years and years (real, real good). Even has fishing rod racks, rifle racks, and a moose sticker on the back window (all good). Definitely a country boy’s truck.
And no frills at all. I am tired of electronic froo-froo that stops working. Here I have no electric windows, no electric doors, no electric seats, no automatic seatbelts, no power steering, no power brakes, no Oriental voices making Zen statements at you like “The Door Is A Jar.” It has a primitive radio, that I could care less about—I never turned the radio in the old van on once in three years. Not expecting the critter to last forever, but if I get a few good years out of it, I’ll be satisfied.
That’s what’s taking me to southern Oregon Sunday for the job interview in Trail at the fish hatchery on Monday. Three mechanics (only one of whom works for the car dealer) have assured me it’ll do the trip without hassles. One said she wished she’d known the truck was for sale, ‘cause she would have bought it (and would have paid more money than I did). So I guess we’re as okay as we’re gonna get.
Derek Hines has posted “I Wanna Come Back as a Stripper Pole” (music and recording by me); URL is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songID=8168331. This is one I’d like to submit to the Burlesque Show folks—I think it’d be a good addition to the show. It would even make a good dance number (with a pole, of course).
Raw footage from the Sept. 26 Burlesque Show is online at the Pirate Satellite TV video gallery. There are three pieces, and the URLs are http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185931960, http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185932054, and http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185932722. I haven’t watched the videos all the way through, so I don’t know if they incorporate the entire show, which was over two hours long. Edited video is reportedly coming, but it may take a while—I have done video, so I know how much time these things can take.
I haven’t done a video myself in weeks; doing it “French style,” the way I’ve been doing it, is a time-consuming process, and hard even for the unemployed to find time for. I could wish for a usable Webcam, but like the new soundhole pickup I need for the guitar, that’s not in the cards. It’ll be another week, I think, before I can film Rufus again with the digital camera—I want more and better footage for the video of “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House.”
I have struck out about everywhere in the search for a lead player for the “Rocktoberfest.” The only good news is that “Doc” Wagner, my former dentist (and the best harmonica player I have ever met), is interested in playing with us—but he can’t do it Oct. 10 because he’ll be out of town. He wants to do future shows with us, though, and I sure will take advantage of that. One more person to try before I give up.
John has suggested we might be able to pull the concert off as a trio, if both he and I can do extra fills in between the lyrics; I know that’s possible (I have done it myself), but I’ll have to be a lot better practiced. For me, that means playing a lot more, so I’m thoroughly familiar with the material. We’ll also need three additional songs for the set—ideally, ones that require little or no lead break. This’d be a good opportunity to try “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You”—nine verses, no chorus, and doesn’t need any lead breaks at all. Tentatively, we’re going to practice Saturday night. Music at the Tillamook Library Saturday afternoon, and at the Wild Goose in Ashland Sunday night. I’m off to a good start for playing a lot before the gig.
Joe
And no frills at all. I am tired of electronic froo-froo that stops working. Here I have no electric windows, no electric doors, no electric seats, no automatic seatbelts, no power steering, no power brakes, no Oriental voices making Zen statements at you like “The Door Is A Jar.” It has a primitive radio, that I could care less about—I never turned the radio in the old van on once in three years. Not expecting the critter to last forever, but if I get a few good years out of it, I’ll be satisfied.
That’s what’s taking me to southern Oregon Sunday for the job interview in Trail at the fish hatchery on Monday. Three mechanics (only one of whom works for the car dealer) have assured me it’ll do the trip without hassles. One said she wished she’d known the truck was for sale, ‘cause she would have bought it (and would have paid more money than I did). So I guess we’re as okay as we’re gonna get.
Derek Hines has posted “I Wanna Come Back as a Stripper Pole” (music and recording by me); URL is http://www.soundclick.com/share?songID=8168331. This is one I’d like to submit to the Burlesque Show folks—I think it’d be a good addition to the show. It would even make a good dance number (with a pole, of course).
Raw footage from the Sept. 26 Burlesque Show is online at the Pirate Satellite TV video gallery. There are three pieces, and the URLs are http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185931960, http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185932054, and http://www.stickam.com/viewMedia.do?mId=185932722. I haven’t watched the videos all the way through, so I don’t know if they incorporate the entire show, which was over two hours long. Edited video is reportedly coming, but it may take a while—I have done video, so I know how much time these things can take.
I haven’t done a video myself in weeks; doing it “French style,” the way I’ve been doing it, is a time-consuming process, and hard even for the unemployed to find time for. I could wish for a usable Webcam, but like the new soundhole pickup I need for the guitar, that’s not in the cards. It’ll be another week, I think, before I can film Rufus again with the digital camera—I want more and better footage for the video of “Me and Rufus, and Burnin’ Down the House.”
I have struck out about everywhere in the search for a lead player for the “Rocktoberfest.” The only good news is that “Doc” Wagner, my former dentist (and the best harmonica player I have ever met), is interested in playing with us—but he can’t do it Oct. 10 because he’ll be out of town. He wants to do future shows with us, though, and I sure will take advantage of that. One more person to try before I give up.
John has suggested we might be able to pull the concert off as a trio, if both he and I can do extra fills in between the lyrics; I know that’s possible (I have done it myself), but I’ll have to be a lot better practiced. For me, that means playing a lot more, so I’m thoroughly familiar with the material. We’ll also need three additional songs for the set—ideally, ones that require little or no lead break. This’d be a good opportunity to try “When I Jump Off the Cliff I’ll Think of You”—nine verses, no chorus, and doesn’t need any lead breaks at all. Tentatively, we’re going to practice Saturday night. Music at the Tillamook Library Saturday afternoon, and at the Wild Goose in Ashland Sunday night. I’m off to a good start for playing a lot before the gig.
Joe
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