Just had an inspiration for how to make my band a success, at least on the local level. By “my band,” of course, I refer to the one that I’m going to start just as soon as I come up with a name, and finalize the playlist. I’ve been working on this for more than 40 years, and I’m making good progress. Don’t rush me.
Back when I was young and impatient, I briefly tried rushing it, and it didn’t work out. Some of the lads and I tried forming a band in Hawaii, and it only had one rehearsal, at Steve Clark’s house on Hickam Air Force Base. Burl Burlingame was there with his harmonicas, which proved it was a serious effort (he probably doesn’t remember, it was such a tiny blip on his music career). I was the front man, and thought I was the next Mick Jagger. But you see, we hadn’t settled on the name, or on our playlist — although we had written one song, called “Grilled Beaver Blues,” which we tentatively rehearsed that day — so the whole thing was just half-baked and premature.
Now, I’m going about it in a more organized and sedate manner.
And today, I had an inspiration for how to make some moderate money on the local level.
Last night I was at a business open-house kind of reception, and there was a band playing. And you couldn’t carry on a normal conversation when the band was playing, because the amps were turned to a point that would be useful for reaching the higher seats in Williams-Brice Stadium. As the organizer said to me in a LinkedIN message this morning, “Glad you were able to stop in last night — it was LOUD!!!”
Yes, it was. But not unusually so.
Have you noticed how very often this is the case? In fact, it seems to always be the case. Take the afterparty at the 100th episode of Pub Politics at Jake’s. Rep. James Smith’s latest band was playing, and no one could hear each other. I remember having what might have been a pretty interesting conversation with Trey Walker about working for the governor, and now for USC, except that it was conducted entirely by taking turns shouting into each other’s ears at a distance of about an inch.
Yeah, boys, I know you shelled out money for the amps and all, but do they really have to be turned to 11? Wouldn’t it be nice to put them at a volume where each note can be heard quite distinctly by people who are not talking, but which would allow those who DO need to talk to do so in normal tones?
I think a band that did that would really be in demand for almost any kind of event involving grownups — pretty much anything short of the latter hours of a wedding reception where everyone’s had too much to drink. I know what you’re going to say: “If it’s too loud, you’re too old.” Well, wake up and look around you — everybody is old. The Baby Boom hasn’t been 16 for some time.
I think that if a band could promise not to hurt the ears of attendees, it could name its price. And no one would care what its name was, or what it played, as long as it wasn’t too discordant. You could probably get away with playing Sex Pistols stuff at a Chamber event, as long as people could talk over it.
My sales pitch to event organizers would involve showing a specially modified amplifier. See? I would say. “These go to three.”
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So do you sing too, or just play the cords to Smoke on the Water over and over?
If you can’t be good, be loud.
I used to sing, and occasionally can still do so. But over the years, I’ve developed a chronic hoarseness that limits me. I think it might be related to a steroid inhaler I use for asthma; I suspect it’s affected my vocal chords over time. The irony is that it’s a great drug, and I have more lung capacity than ever. But my voice lacks clarity, range and reliability.
I can still strum chords on a guitar, as long as you don’t expect anything fancier than strumming. I can probably remember a couple of dozen chords without looking (I used to know a lot more). I’ve never played “Smoke on the Water.”
With my voice the way it is now, I tend to have the greatest success trying to sing sort of countrified folk-rock. Sort of a cross between Levon Helm and Tom Petty, I guess.
Can you play “Stairway”?
If you perform disco music in platform shoes and bellbottoms I’ll come see you play.
@bud – I’d put out fliers if that happened.
Can you wear a bowtie with platform shoes? Maybe if he got one of those glittery type bowties.
Throw in some of those huge glasses like Elton John used to wear and a silky shirt and Brad could be a superstar.
Never took you for the Flying V type.
Brad needs platform shoes with goldfish in them.
http://www.thesmokingjacket.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/BDP-Goldfish-Shoes.jpg
Since when are clarity, range and reliability desirable for popular musical singing? I have a voice like Julie Andrews, which is mos def not the thing….
Brad could probably get by wearing that windshield wiper pair Elton had for a while.
This might give you some ideas:
We were once asked to play at a Rotary meeting. Well, we were a rockin’ blues band. Thirty seconds into the first song, 90 percent of the Rotarians fled the building. The 10 percent remaining were already deaf.
Throw in a little beach music and I’ll come too. “Sixty Minute man” would be nice.
Is 99 Luftballoons on your play list?
absurd
Oops! Here’s the link:
Thanks, Ralph–now that’ll be in my head….nice song, though
Wir fahr’n fahr’n fahr’n auf der Autobahn…..
Hielten sich für Captain Kirk
Thanks for all the suggestions on how to dress for the stage, but my own concept of a “look” is somewhat different.
I tend to think back to when I saw Dylan with The Band in Memphis in 1974. Basically, they were casually dressed with dark sport coats over work shirts, and jeans or other casual pants. I seem to recall a scruffy old sofa on the stage. It was comfortable, homey, and vaguely old-fashioned. They were dressed sort of like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, only without the guns and cowboy hats.
That’s the sort of look I’m comfortable with.
“99 Red Balloons” is one of my favorite songs from the 80s.
But I’m not sure it’s within my own particular…
Idiom, sir?
… Idiom!