art of the jam 20
thought we were gonna get pre-empted by the katrina benefit (which raised $700; not bad for a wednesday night -- kudos to the ppl who put it together and to the bands that played: exit 380, peachtruck republic, egress, poo live crew, and a y'allternative-type singer cat whose name, because i suck, escapes me) but instead we wound up playing 15-minute "mini-sets" on the little "wreck west" stage in between the bene bands. most of the night it was just the trio of jam-meiser lee allen on bass 'n' vox, joe "drumzilla" cruz on the skins, and me on gtr. we started out ungodly loud, loud enough to run everyone but the bartender out of "wreck west," in spite of the fact our volume settings were identical to what they'd been the last time we played the little room without damaging any patrons' hearing. then wreck room wizard o' sound andre edmonson pulled down the curtains that we'd pulled up (so the sound from our amps 'n' drums could bounce off the glass) and things got more manageable.
given the limitations of the format, the fact that different ppl would be in and out of the bar all night, and our own inclinations, certain toons got repeated plays: "standing on the verge of getting it on" _three_ times, "maggot brain" and "cissy strut" twice each. that wasn't _all_ we played; lee sang "come together" after we turned down and jam namesake carl pack got up to vocalize on the butthole surfers' "pepper." (there's no psychedelia like punk psychedelia.) later on, lee broke out "la fiesta" for the first time in a few weeks, and caroline collier (back in action after drumming for the kids at jo kelly school, then injuring her back on the job and missing austin city limits -- feel better soon, caro) sat in on drums, laying down a groove that morphed into (of course) "cissy strut (slight return)."
after playing their pukka set, four out of five young cats from the band egress got up on our gear to play 311 covers (and bring their not-inconsiderable crowd over to wreck west, which was nice 'cos it gave the patio king a chance to make some coin behind the bar). to the ign'ant shitheels who rejected my friend phil when he auditioned for their rockband on the basis of "what would we sound like with a _black guy lead singer_?" the answer of course is "pretty fuckin' rad." like the dirtbombs. or the gospel swingers. or geno washington and the ram jam band. or thin lizzy. or egress. cat has great pipes and a stage trip to match -- refreshing in this here "age of the non-singer" (if bob dylan were here, he'd be turning in his grave).
on a personal note, i was happy that in spite of the abundance of downtime, i managed to avoid getting shithammered, less happy that i broke down and bummed a coupla smokes at the end of the night. felt remarkably lifelike at work most of today.
given the limitations of the format, the fact that different ppl would be in and out of the bar all night, and our own inclinations, certain toons got repeated plays: "standing on the verge of getting it on" _three_ times, "maggot brain" and "cissy strut" twice each. that wasn't _all_ we played; lee sang "come together" after we turned down and jam namesake carl pack got up to vocalize on the butthole surfers' "pepper." (there's no psychedelia like punk psychedelia.) later on, lee broke out "la fiesta" for the first time in a few weeks, and caroline collier (back in action after drumming for the kids at jo kelly school, then injuring her back on the job and missing austin city limits -- feel better soon, caro) sat in on drums, laying down a groove that morphed into (of course) "cissy strut (slight return)."
after playing their pukka set, four out of five young cats from the band egress got up on our gear to play 311 covers (and bring their not-inconsiderable crowd over to wreck west, which was nice 'cos it gave the patio king a chance to make some coin behind the bar). to the ign'ant shitheels who rejected my friend phil when he auditioned for their rockband on the basis of "what would we sound like with a _black guy lead singer_?" the answer of course is "pretty fuckin' rad." like the dirtbombs. or the gospel swingers. or geno washington and the ram jam band. or thin lizzy. or egress. cat has great pipes and a stage trip to match -- refreshing in this here "age of the non-singer" (if bob dylan were here, he'd be turning in his grave).
on a personal note, i was happy that in spite of the abundance of downtime, i managed to avoid getting shithammered, less happy that i broke down and bummed a coupla smokes at the end of the night. felt remarkably lifelike at work most of today.
posted by stashdauber at 5:09 PM
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