ATTENDING SOMEONE ELSE'S SHOW...

26 songs done now for the New Joe Songbook—and I found another one where I’d never posted lyrics: “50 Ways to Cure the Depression.” I’ll have to re-type the lyrics. (Of course I remember them.) Got confirmation from Denise she’d like to do the Thirsty Lion on March 27. Next step: a setlist CD (easy) and find an opportunity to practice (not so easy).

Next Friday, instead of going to City Hall, I’ll go see the Ocean Bottom Blues Band (Sara, Wayne and Dale) play the 2nd Street Market. They’re one of the groups I’m considering hiring (using the term loosely) for one or more of the summer gigs (Relay for Life, Garibaldi Days, and the Rocktoberfest), and I want to see them in action. I want to do this with all the bands under consideration. I want to see how they work a crowd, and how the crowd reacts to what they play.. That’s more important than anything they could put on a CD.

I’m not sure of the value of CDs, either, though I’ve asked everybody for one. A CD used to indicate that a band had progressed far enough, and maybe made enough money, to “do time” in a studio, but the proliferation of cheap, quality home recording equipment has lowered that bar a lot. You can make a radio-quality recording these days with nothing more than a decent computer, a good set of ears and a good sense of arrangements.

What you hear on a CD is not necessarily what you’re going to get, either: one of the groups that applied for the Rocktoberfest last year was a duo, but their CD had full instrumentation—five or more instruments—on their songs, and you knew those two musicians weren’t going to be playing all five instruments simultaneously on stage. I guess the main value of the CD these days is it allows the tone-deaf concert promoter (me) to easily share what he finds with his “crew.” We don’t all have to go attend somebody’s performance.

There are other ways around it, though. I’ve arranged to record part of the Ocean Bottom Blues Band’s performance Friday with a borrowed iPhone—I know they don’t have a CD out. That’s why my Modest Proposal offers everybody alternatives, and says, “If you don’t have this, let’s talk.”

Following the 2nd Street Market performance, I’ll attend the jam session at a Tillamook tavern that’s reportedly been happening Friday nights for a couple of weeks now. Hosted by Jim, one of the co-owners of the music store (and partner in The Mercantile in Beaver). Want to see what that’s like. It might be a good alternative to Garibaldi when the group at City Hall gets boring.

I’ve got three or four more groups and a couple solo musicians to send the Modest Proposal to, encouraging them to be part of one or more of the summer gigs.

Applied for another job—another non-city manager one. After you’ve done city manager work for nearly 20 years, it is hard to convince people to hire you to do something else, even when you can show them how your skills and experience translate to their job. Occasionally, I feel like Woody, the cowboy in Toy Story: “You’re a cowboy and there’s no jobs for cowboys. We want spacemen—and even if you dress up like a spaceman and act like a spaceman, we’ll know you’re really a cowboy.”

Joe