MORE FAILED ECONOMY SHOW THOUGHTS...

So instead of applying for another job, I’m writing another issue of the blog. Is that because I’m worried I might actually get offered the job? And if so, is that a good reason to procrastinate? I could really use a job. It really stung to have Sallie Mae, the Federal student-loan agency, tell me they had no jobs for me—at the same time they’re hiring 2,000 people to man their call center.

Figured out how to play Zmulls’ “The Emperor”: the verses are the same chord progression I used in the music for Don Varnell’s “Another Crappy Christmas,” and it’s easy to apply the same rhythm to the chorus and bridge. It’s not calypso by any means—but that’s something the bass player and drummer can overlay on what I do. I remember thinking at the time that the meter to the Varnell song was tricky, and having to practice it a lot before recording it. Now it’s second nature (because I did practice it a lot).

I really like “Un-Easy Street,” the new Stan Good song about the joys of living out of one’s car, and I hope Stan likes what I did with the lyrics; I really would like to perform this one—as the lead song in the Failed Economy Show, I think. Heart-rending and bouncy at the same time. I robbed the music for it from myself (third time I’ve done that, but it’s okay—I haven’t heard any complaints from me about myself doing that)—from two other songs I’ve written, in fact, so it might not be that noticeable. The music for the verses is out of “One: I Love You,” and the chorus from “I Broke My Girlfriend.” I am unlikely to be performing both of those at the same time I do “Un-Easy Street,” so it’s okay.

What do we need? Three more songs? Two? We’re getting close. (Good thing, too—only about two weeks left to practice in, and we still haven’t gotten the whole band together in one place yet.) I have a tentative setlist, which we’ll go over Monday, I think, and I’ve been working on the Rap.

Promotion continues apace; the county librarian wants copies of the poster for each library, and I’ll take copies of the poster to my daughter’s college Saturday when I go into Portland for practice with that band. (They need names. They really need names.) The tavern got posters when Jeff and I played there tonight, as did Timmy the car dealer, who has been coming in Wednesday nights to hear us.

Tomorrow—there won’t be time today—I’ll deliver posters to the county commissioners, county judge, city managers, another newspaper, and the recreation district manager. Dropped off a poster at the barbershop yesterday—and the barber had already heard about it (and wants more posters). So word is getting around. It’s a scattergun approach, much like what ol’ FDR himself did toward fixing the last Depression: you try everything you can think of, and when something actually works, you try to figure out what it was.

It is (and has been) a lot of work—for something that is actually (and deliberately) not going to generate one dime for me or anybody else in the band. (I can’t even call ‘em The Band With No Name. They both have no names.) Why do it? Looked at from a mercenary standpoint—which I have to do when I have no money—this event is going to make the band’s reputation. We’re getting a lot of publicity—which is incidentally publicity for the band while being focused on the event. If we generate a big crowd—and we may—a lot of those folks will be people who have never heard us before. If we’re good—and I want to make sure we’re good—people will remember us, and it’ll be easier to get a crowd in the door for the next concert. I’ve maintained before one of the best things one can do for a band’s reputation is to get associated with a good cause. We’re putting it into practice.

And if we’re asked to do it again? The band have already agreed that yes, we’ll do more of these. We intend and expect to have a lot of fun. Once the Failed Economy Show is done, it’s a set piece, that we can pull out of the proverbial hat and do with very little practice. That’s the payoff down the road for the investment we’re making now.

I hope, too, that the event spawns a lot of imitators. No, that does nothing for the band—but it could do a lot for The Cause. You help by doing what you can, and in our (and other musicians’) case, that means “putting your mandolins where your mouths are.” Combines satisfying the public’s need for entertainment in a Depression, and satisfying unfortunate folks’ need for help, at the same time. And that’s a good thing.

Joe