art of the jam 53
an abbreviated sesh this week, as start time was delayed by the first game of the nba west series (i must admit that i know _just_ enough about sports to feign interest when i see 'em on tv in bars w/the sound off), after which jam-meister lee allen was proposing a set of "basketball music" (think rhcp's "magic johnson"), but the mavs lost and the expected celebration, replete with multiple rounds of shots for the band, failed to materialize. feh.
wreck room wizard o' sound andre edmonson and i were in a mellow mood when we arrived, in my case possibly due to residual sleep deprivation from a last week that included stoogeaphilia prac monday, jam wednesday, stoogeaphilia gig of gigs at the black dog thursday, and sittin' in with sleeplab on sunday at a wake for muso / wreck room happy hour bartender michael contreras' mom (sorry for yr loss, country). 'twas quite a shift from the teeth-bared, full-on fury o' the stoogeband one night to the chill acoustic vibe o' jeffa's minimalist crew a coupla days later, but all in all, it was not a bad way to spend yr sunday afternoon. was also my first real oppo to play with matt skates (for all the times he's been to the jam), and it's always a pleasure to share the stage with my friend, painter / congero jesse sierra hernandez. biggest surprise to me was michael contreras' mandolin playing -- he really hit on some nice licks, and i got the feeling that somewhere, his mom was smiling real big 'n' proud for her son. i just tried not to get in the way.
back to wednesday night, while the wreck reg'lars were going apeshit and beating on the bar watching the mavs lose to san antonio by _this_ much, confusatron was playing at fred's to an audience consisting of owner / outlaw chef terry chandler, his bride jennifer, and manager quincy. (if a jam goes down and nobody hears it, did it really happen at all?) when the final buzzer sounded, the jamcats took the stage: the jam-meister, me, and scott copeland's sidetracks drummer brandon wallace, a crisply groovin' player 'n' active listener who, in his first coupla visits to the jam, has already propelled some of the freshest improvisational flights we've had in the last few months. (hope he keeps coming back.) after an appetizer of funkadelic "cosmic slop," with wreck impresario brian forella and jam godfather carl pack flowing rhymes, it was "variations on a theme of E-to-A," with a coupla different approaches that included an attempt by me to remember a line i usedta play in "the occasionals" with ron geida a million yrs ago, and a melvins-y ascending exploration o' the phrygian mode (that's no sharps or flats, for all the civilians 'n' musical illiterates like myself before da jam-meister put me wise).
there weren't many prospective jammers or, indeed, human beings of any description in the house when the jam-meister sidled up to me at the bar after we'd taken a break and announced, "i wanna go home."
"me too," i replied.
"no," he said emphatically, "i mean _right now_."
"hokay."
so, for the first time in weeks ('cepting the one i took off to celebrate 4/5/06 with my sweetie), i was home before one o'clock on a jam night. before i did, tho, i was handed an invite to the wedding of ex-woodeye bassist / wreck bartender graham richardson 'n' his sweetie / kai's mom robin, one which we'll be more 'n happy to attend. all we ever need is something to look forward to, and jam-wise, we've got a lot to look forward to next week, when the jam-meister hosts a birthday celebration for his pal / velvet jive bassist rob marruffo -- an event so big it's starting at 8pm, a time when the jamcats are usually just beginning to thank about rolling out of la casa. in addition to impulse of will and velvet jive, lee 'n' rob's college band "the kind buds" (311-ish heaviosity with two basses!) will make a rare appearance, and as a special added attraction, there'll be another exciting installment of "stooges at midnight," as the stoogeaphiles return to the wreck after engulfing the northside in a blanket of feedback (which will occur at the rose marine theater plaza, sunday at 8:30pm). be there or turn in your ears!
wreck room wizard o' sound andre edmonson and i were in a mellow mood when we arrived, in my case possibly due to residual sleep deprivation from a last week that included stoogeaphilia prac monday, jam wednesday, stoogeaphilia gig of gigs at the black dog thursday, and sittin' in with sleeplab on sunday at a wake for muso / wreck room happy hour bartender michael contreras' mom (sorry for yr loss, country). 'twas quite a shift from the teeth-bared, full-on fury o' the stoogeband one night to the chill acoustic vibe o' jeffa's minimalist crew a coupla days later, but all in all, it was not a bad way to spend yr sunday afternoon. was also my first real oppo to play with matt skates (for all the times he's been to the jam), and it's always a pleasure to share the stage with my friend, painter / congero jesse sierra hernandez. biggest surprise to me was michael contreras' mandolin playing -- he really hit on some nice licks, and i got the feeling that somewhere, his mom was smiling real big 'n' proud for her son. i just tried not to get in the way.
back to wednesday night, while the wreck reg'lars were going apeshit and beating on the bar watching the mavs lose to san antonio by _this_ much, confusatron was playing at fred's to an audience consisting of owner / outlaw chef terry chandler, his bride jennifer, and manager quincy. (if a jam goes down and nobody hears it, did it really happen at all?) when the final buzzer sounded, the jamcats took the stage: the jam-meister, me, and scott copeland's sidetracks drummer brandon wallace, a crisply groovin' player 'n' active listener who, in his first coupla visits to the jam, has already propelled some of the freshest improvisational flights we've had in the last few months. (hope he keeps coming back.) after an appetizer of funkadelic "cosmic slop," with wreck impresario brian forella and jam godfather carl pack flowing rhymes, it was "variations on a theme of E-to-A," with a coupla different approaches that included an attempt by me to remember a line i usedta play in "the occasionals" with ron geida a million yrs ago, and a melvins-y ascending exploration o' the phrygian mode (that's no sharps or flats, for all the civilians 'n' musical illiterates like myself before da jam-meister put me wise).
there weren't many prospective jammers or, indeed, human beings of any description in the house when the jam-meister sidled up to me at the bar after we'd taken a break and announced, "i wanna go home."
"me too," i replied.
"no," he said emphatically, "i mean _right now_."
"hokay."
so, for the first time in weeks ('cepting the one i took off to celebrate 4/5/06 with my sweetie), i was home before one o'clock on a jam night. before i did, tho, i was handed an invite to the wedding of ex-woodeye bassist / wreck bartender graham richardson 'n' his sweetie / kai's mom robin, one which we'll be more 'n happy to attend. all we ever need is something to look forward to, and jam-wise, we've got a lot to look forward to next week, when the jam-meister hosts a birthday celebration for his pal / velvet jive bassist rob marruffo -- an event so big it's starting at 8pm, a time when the jamcats are usually just beginning to thank about rolling out of la casa. in addition to impulse of will and velvet jive, lee 'n' rob's college band "the kind buds" (311-ish heaviosity with two basses!) will make a rare appearance, and as a special added attraction, there'll be another exciting installment of "stooges at midnight," as the stoogeaphiles return to the wreck after engulfing the northside in a blanket of feedback (which will occur at the rose marine theater plaza, sunday at 8:30pm). be there or turn in your ears!
posted by stashdauber at 4:10 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home