OF TSUNAMIS AND SAMBAS...

Well, the Tsunami Grill was fun. Small turnout because of the Oregon Ducks game, and that meant I got to play more stuff, which was nice—but what I really go there for is the chance to play lead guitar to (mostly) rock ‘n’ roll music. I wouldn’t call it “practice,” because I’m trying to be perfect when I do it, and I don’t have many chances to do it. With a few exceptions, the cover songs the other musicians are playing are things I’ve never heard the originals of, so I’m not trying to recreate somebody else’s lead; I just do something that I think fits in. Hopefully, it does.

(And what I do isn’t actually lead work. It’s simply competent—and interesting—rhythm, that’s capable of standing on its own as an in-lieu-of lead if no one else is playing lead—which last night was often the case. I’m still pursuing the role that was marked out for me some years back by a rock band I played with that did a lot of Beatles covers. They wanted me to be their John Lennon, and I decided he wasn’t a bad role model: a competent rhythm guitarist who could sometimes play lead. And wrote stuff.)

I was asked at the Tsunami when my next gig was and had to admit I didn’t have any lined up. I should take care of that. (I said that before but haven’t done anything about it.) I don’t mind playing solo for free and just having the Ugly Orange Bucket out for tips and trying to sell CDs; if I’m playing with the band, though, I want the band to get paid.

Just a few more photos to take for the “Twenty-Four Seven” music video. I need to photograph copies of Great Expectations and Fear of Flying at the library, the lighthouse at God’s Lighthouse church, the billboard in Garibaldi advertising the 2-foot long jerky, the “free hearing tests” sandwich board in Tillamook, the golf course sign next to the cheese factory, the arcade and espresso stand and one of the “Thanks for Visiting!” signs in Rockaway, and The Cow Nobody Wanted up at the Mohler Grange (which ultimately decided they did want it). And then I think I’ll have everything and can begin putting the video together.

“Samba with the Llamas” started to turn political, and I decided I’d let it; it’s likely to be a throwaway anyway, since it’s got (presently) a rather nonsensical (albeit risqué-sounding) tag line. It’s okay if the song talks about current events—I’m not hitting for “timeless classic” here. And I can always safeguard my reputation as a nonpolitical writer by telling folks, “This is a Southern Pigfish song.” They do the politically-charged stuff. I don’t.

One thing I will need before I’m done is a whole lot more words that rhyme, or almost rhyme, with “samba.” Since I refuse on principle to use a rhyming dictionary, I’ll be dependent on what I come up with myself and what suggestions I get from others. (That was a hint, folks.)

I always try to figure out where melodies come from. This one’s bouncy, danceable melody, near as I can figure out, was partly robbed from Jimmy Buffett, partly from the Beach Boys, partly from Stan Good’s “Real Good Coffee and a Real Good Wife” (which I musicated) and partly from Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas” (which I also musicated). Put ‘em all together, with a few extraneous beats, and it does sound original.

I have no idea whether it’s a real samba or not. I haven’t danced the samba since I took ballroom dancing in junior high school. And if I’m attributing the song to Southern Pigfish, it doesn’t matter. What would a folk-rock band from Arkansas know about sambas?

Music Saturday at the library, and Sunday night at the Rapture Room. Opportunities to remind everyone that I’m the entertainment chairperson for the local Relay for Life campaign, and I want them to perform. July 7-8 at the county fairgrounds.

Joe