The weatherman said it would be done raining by 5, but it was still drizzling as I drove down at 6:30. But I'd been practicing with my new bass drum and working up a bunch of new (or unfinished old) songs, and I wasn't about to miss one of our rare Saturdays, even if I had to stand out there all alone.
And I'm glad I went. It sprinkled for the first hour or so, but since the ice cream store was closed, we were able to set up under their narrow awning and stay mostly dry. And a surprising amount of people were out, though only a very few stopped. That was OK though, I was mainly there to experiment with the new stuff I'd been working on.
But even before I was fully set up, a lady came by with her dog and declared, "You have those two CDs, one for adults and one for kids". Um, yes, I do. "You should record another one for adults -- I love the one I have." I told her that, since there are 25 songs on that first CD, it was essentially a "double album", but that, yes, I may have enough new material by now to do another one. I hadn't been considering that, but now I will.
We mostly ran through the songs that I've been playing with and trying to get the hang of using the bass drum pedal on. But around 9:00 or so, it had dried out enough that some people could sit on the bench, so a nice couple did, and asked for a few songs. And then a girl showed up with her two little dogs and asked for "some Eagles", and chose "Peaceful Easy Feeling" of the offered choices. Then she asked for "Desperado", and started crying midway through it. She apologized (?!) and explained that a friend had died two weeks earlier. Then she asked for "Bridge Over Troubled Water", and had to bolt halfway through that one. You know, it's always nice when someone is affected by your music, but not to the point where they have to get up and leave...
Later on, as I was playing "Southern Cross" two ladies came by -- one short, quiet, and shy, and the other statuesque, large-breasted, and apparently somewhat inebriated. Since I was set up in front of the doorway to the ice cream shop, the flagpole that holds the "gate sign" was right in front of me. I don't really think of "Southern Cross" as a dancing song, but she started dancing anyway -- normally at first, but got more "grindy" as she went on, discovered the pole, and by the end of the song was apparently intent on having that pole's babies. Halfway through the song, she danced over and gave Warren a kiss on the cheek, and at the end, she kissed mine, and off they went, without so much as a howdy-do. The joys of busking...
Anyway, while I'd'a preferred having some audience to play for, the evening was helpful as a way to get some experience with the drum pedal and try out some songs in Real Life. I'd worked up Toto's "Africa" a few years ago, but couldn't really play it well enough. But with the new guitar, and the drum pedal to provide some rhythm and depth, it sounds pretty good. A lady came right over and put some money in the jar while mouthing the words, so that's a good sign. And "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" and "Against the Wind" appear to be keepers, as I attempt to bring the average tempo of my list up a bit. And with the new guitar, I can finally really play "Layla", which nobody can resist singing along to, even as they walk on by.
Last time was pretty good, this time was even better. I set up just behind the little half-wall that divides the retail side form the bar, so I was closer to the people. That went a long way to allowing some interaction, and getting people to join in with requests. At one point I had requests 3 or 4 deep, which was basically one for each group that was there.
The funny part is, that although I'm acting like a jukebox, I'm not an actual jukebox, and I can hear. So when someone says "Oooh! 'Shower the People'!", but doesn't actually request it, I play it anyway, given no other requests at the time -- and they get all thrilled like I'm psychic or something. People.
About halfway through, three ladies came in, one of them black. As they were settling in at the table closest to me, some guy requested "Hey, Soul Sister", so without thinking, I fired it up. Then I looked up and wondered: How racist is this? Is a "soul sister" necessarily black? Does she think I'm playing this song because she came in? Awkward. Really awkward.
But apparently she didn't take offense 'cuz once they had ordered she started requesting songs, and happily singing along. Big Simon and Garfunkel fan. Wasn't brave enough to come up and sing the girl part of "Baby, It's Cold Outside", though.
A young couple came in and sat at the low table just behind the half-wall where I couldn't see them. When I stepped forward to see if they had any requests, they looked awfully familiar, and turned out to be some fans from the Borders Café days. Wow, actual fans who seek me out -- who'd'a thought? As they left (last ones out), Melissa said, "Thanks for another great Date Night, Keith!"
Warren couldn't make it but I wasn't about to let "our turn" at The Corner go by untaken, so I went alone. Besides, I'd been looking forward to it all week because...
I'd stumbled on a bass drum pedal thing at the Goodwill store for ten bucks. I'd looked at them before, but they're expensive, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to effective use it anyway. But for ten bucks, I snatched it up, for whatever I might be able to rig it up to do.
I thought it was just a practice "dummy" pad, but when I was looking for a way to attach my "foot tambourine" to it, I noticed a 1/4" jack, and when I plugged that into my amp, ta daa, it's a full-on electronic bass drum! There used to be a guy at Spectrum who sat on a "cajon" box and thumped it with the heel of his stockinged right foot, and it added a *lot* of depth, so here was my chance to give that a try.
Of course, since I'm already having to click the buttons on the harmony box at random times, it's a challenge to keep the beat going with my right foot at the same time. Not to mention that I have to sit down to be able to work both feet. So, I had to add a folding stool, this strange unwieldy contraption, and a piece of carpet to my "load out", but hopefully it was gonna be worth it.
But it was hard to tell. In my excitement, I'd forgotten that it's still winter, cold, and pretty dead down there. It's one thing to play mellow songs out into the empty darkness, and another to be hammering out party tunes all alone...
Besides, it was hard to figure out how loud to make the thing. I can't play and listen to it while I'm standing out in front, like I can my guitar. And with no audience, it's hard to gauge whether or not it's "working".
I did have a nice half-hour stint with five dudes and some other people there, requesting and (mostly) listening, but they kept choosing the quiet songs. Even though I had re-done the request list for the bar gig last week, with lots fewer kids' songs and lots more rock and roll.
(Except "Brown Eyed Girl". People kept requesting "Brown Eyed Girl". Which, fortunately, has few enough harmony changes that I can actually get through it with the bass drum line intact.)
I was playing "Puff, the Magic Dragon" for local guy Bob when a lady came right up next to me and started singing along. Of course, I do it in "my key", so singing with me was too low, and an octave up was too high, but she was game. She hung around and sang another few songs, though she refused the mic when I offered it -- just wanted to sing, not be heard. I don't know why I didn't think to ask her to sing the Girl Part of "Baby It's Cold Outside". Big chance and I blew it.
Anyway, I guess it was "lucky" that I got to practice a bit with the drum when almost nobody was around. Hopefully, by summer when the crowds show up, I'll have worked up the skill to play it properly.
So the recommendation I got from the Karaoke guy at last Friday's surreal after-gig encounter turned into an actual gig at a local wine bar called "Uncorked". I guess the owner, Romy, took him at his word that I knew my stuff. Her only concern was for me not to be too loud. I told her not to worry -- I have a volume knob that goes all the way down to zero.
And of course, a genteel 30-seat wine bar is more appropriate for my mellow style than the noisy beer bar that I played at last week. The only real problem was the layout -- it's a long rectangle, divided into two squares by a short wall down the middle. The front half is the store, and the back half is the wine bar. There's no room there to set up, so I was far away from the actual people, and had a tough time getting any interaction going.
Especially since Romy spilled water on the song lists she was passing out and so failed to deliver them to half the room. The people with lists did make some requests, but since I was so far away, they had to get up and come over to me instead of just shouting them out, so that dissuades them from doing it much.
But it went quite well anyway. The people and Romy seemed very pleased, and she immediately booked me for two more gigs there -- her next two open spots, next week and the end of February.
The tricky part of these kinds of gigs is that, since people tend to stay put for most of, if not all of, the evening, I feel like I can't play any given song more than once. Fortunately, I have over 350 songs in my book -- not all of which are equally ready to play in public, but certainly enough are to cover the three hours.
The place is close enough to home that my wife invited our neighbors to come out and see me. The ladies talked most of the time, but the husband seemed to be having a really great time, requesting several Beatle songs and repeatedly coming up to put money in the jar, even though I told him he didn't have to do that.
Anyway, it was pretty fun, though it would have been more fun if I could have gotten closer to the people, which I'll try to do next time. But a great start, and it's terrific to finally have something that looks like a regular (indoors!) gig.
As I was making my last trip to the car after the gig at Club 32, a lady who was outside smoking stopped me to say that she and her husband had really enjoyed the music, and that I ought to play at the Elks Club. The what, now?
But I'm game for anything that might at least make a good story, so I asked how do I do that, and she said that I should go by and talk to Andy, the Entertainment Director, or even just go over there Right Now and talk to Dan the Bar Manager. I don't even know what the Elks Club does, but I know where it is, and she said they have Entertainment on Saturday nights and I'd be perfect for it.
So, what did I have to lose? I drove over there and asked the bartender to speak to Dan. I told him that one of his members thought I'd be great to play there, and gave him a card, songlist, and CD. It was karaoke night, and Dan said that he'd like to hear me sing, but I told him that I'm better when I can play my own songs on my own guitar -- or he could just listen to the CD.
He kinda wanted to hear me then and there, so I realized that I could go get my guitar and the magic bag and plug into the karaoke system. We asked the karaoke guy if that was OK, and he said that that would work. He even told Dan, "I've heard this guy and he's great!" I said, "Really? Where did you hear me?" and he said, "Aw man, I thought you'd just roll with that!" I guess I missed the wink...
So I got my stuff and the karaoke guy, Roy, asked me to play "Ain't Too Proud to Beg", which, weirdly, I'd learned a month earlier. I thought he'd caught a glimpse of my List, but, nope, he just wanted/insisted on "Ain't Too Proud to Beg". Dan had implied that I'd only get one song, and I didn't really want it to be that one, but Roy said that he was in charge and I'd get more than one. We settled on letting me play my choice first, and Roy's request second.
So I got set up and Roy introduced me as "Keith" and some people in the audience (of 30 or so) said, "Keith Comer?!?" They knew me from Indian Princesses and were already on board.
So I started with "Over the Rainbow". The room was full of older, happy, friendly, (drunk?) people, and it went over big time. Then I was obliged to play "Ain't Too Proud to Beg", which also pretty much killed. (Look at the versatility on this guy!) I was thinking that this was the weirdest thing that had happened in a long time -- leaving one gig disappointed and going to the Elks Club for an impromptu "audition" in front of a karaoke audience.
And then it got even weirder.
An older guy came up to tell me and Roy that it was 11:00 and time for "the ritual". I'm like, uh oh.
The guy dragged everyone (including me) up from their tables and barstools to stand in a circle holding hands. A lady pushed a button that made eleven slow gongs sound, and then the old guy recited a litany of praise for absent Elks Club members, soldiers, and first responders. Then Roy dug up a karaoke track for "Auld Lang Syne" and we all sang that, still holding hands in the circle.
And for the next part of the ritual, Roy put on "God Bless America", and we all sang that, too. But then, just to make it even more surreal -- and I'm not making this up -- everyone started Rockette kicking to the song. Fortunately, we were all still holding hands, so the more tipsy ones of the group had some backup when they started to fall over. I wish I'd'a gotten some pictures, but I wasn't sure how this secret society would react, and besides, both my hands were being held by strangers.
Then we had a moment of silence for the soldiers, the circle broke up and everyone went back to their chairs, and it was time for me to sing another one as if nothing had happened!
So here I am, just another day at the office, glad it wasn't a "*blood* ritual", so I fire up "You Got a Friend" -- always a reliable number for drunk people. Everybody got into it, and a group of ladies in the back joined loudly in, hugging and swaying along.
After that, Dan said I was great, and he wanted to get me there for a real gig, my price was fine, but he'd have to talk to The Committee (and Andy), but that half of them were there tonight so it wouldn't be a problem. So now I'm waiting on their call, too.
But then, on my way out, Roy wanted to talk to me about "other stuff". He said I'd be perfect at a nearby wine bar, texted me the address, gave me his card, and told me to tell the owner that he recommended me, and she'd let me -- play? Audition? Unclear, but promising.
So all of that was wacky, out of the blue, and worth it. *Something* might just happen...
After my incredibly successful Open Mic audition for this place, I was really looking forward to my first Real Gig there. But, as always, it didn't go exactly as I pictured it...
To start with, I'd expected the first hour or so to be "Restaurant Time" -- quiet, with people eating and me playing soft music. But when I got there, it was already packed, both the restaurant and bar sides. And *noisy*. I suppose I could/should have taken the hint that it was already "Bar Time", but I'd been told to play quiet stuff for dinnertime, then go to rowdier stuff "later" (whenever that was).
The place is a weird shape -- long skinny "restaurant side" to the right, bar in front of me, and another square bar-room to the left. So I pointed one speaker toward the restaurant side and one toward the bar side, and started up. The bartender told me to turn *up* a little, so that was a good sign. I couldn't really hear myself even then, but I played on.
I couldn't see most of the restaurant side, but some ladies in the bar-room started clapping enthusiastically, and after a few songs one of them came over with a twenty for the jar! Since no one was really positioned to shout any requests at me, I hadn't passed out the newly-rowdy-song-enhanced Song Lists, but I felt like these ladies deserved to make a request, so I walked over there to hand them a List.
That snowballed a bit, and I ended up taking several requests from that room, almost all "mellow songs". I had feared this eventuality -- the management would want me to play Rowdy but the actual customers would want Mellow, and that's pretty much what happened. I was hoping that the owner would notice the happy people and realize that my approach was working, but how often has The Boss been perceptive and "get it" when I didn't do exactly what he said? I shoulda known better...
So, apparently he wanted it to go Full Rowdy at 10:00, but instead of asking me to do that and letting me at least try (especially since I'd spent the week learning and practicing lots of uptempo stuff), he decided to send me home and put on the house music instead. Ouch.
He insisted that I was "really talented" and that the restaurant side could hear it really well and loved it, and that he'd have me back sometime, starting earlier, to play a dinnertime set -- but he may have just been "softening the blow". I guess we'll see.
But this may well have been a "be careful what you wish for" thing. I honestly think I can pull off "Sweet Caroline", "867-5309", "Don't Stop Believing" etc. as well as anyone, but pumping music into a loud unresponsive room wasn't really much fun anyway. I'm probably better off playing quieter stuff into a quieter room (if they ever actually call me back, or somewhere else for that matter).
But the extra disappointing part was that I'd stumbled on an electronic bass drum at the Goodwill store and been practicing for two days solid to be able to add that to the mix. It *really* helps make the rock songs sound right, but I'd only gotten to play it for 3 or 4 songs before he shut me down. And it was working -- I saw several people rocking to the beat as I played it for my last song, "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", which sounded *amazing* (and I'd learned special just for this gig -- the owner is Irish).
Ah, well. Best laid plans... It'll sound great down in Laguna, too, where the people who want to listen stick around, and those who don't, keep walking.
So it was kinda fun, and I'd do it again, but overall disappointing just 'cuz I they didn't give me a chance to do what I was going to try to do -- step up my "bar game". Oh well.
But the weirdest part was what happened right afterward, but I suppose that's a story for the next post...
