art of the jam

it mystifies me how people can think the wreck room is closed when it's still playing host to events like the nguyen family benefit last sunday (which included a woodeye reunion, for goodness sake) and sleepytime gorilla museum the other night (tuesday). they must not read the fw weekly.

the wednesday night jamcats are still at it, though, even without a soundman or a bartender for the li'l room (a.k.a. "wreck west"). these days, we play on the floor in the big room, and since graham richardson left for finn maccool's, tina pack has been holding down the bar. 'twas nice to see some of the jam "reg'lars" back last night -- the _listeners_ who've sustained this thang for the past two years 'n' change: paul 'n' nicole, anne allen, amy kadleck. plus a few musos (josh clark, mike padilla, louis from the panther city bandits) who were just visiting, not playing, on this particular night. there's also been a revolving (usually small) group of new folks of late, mainly younguns gettin' their wreck room ticket punched (not that there's anything wrong with that).

not to make too much of the imminent demise of my living-room-away-from-home; its passing will prolly generate less than a ripple in the lives of most folks here in the fort, and there are also those for whom embargo, the moon, the chat room, 1919 hemphill, pop's safari, michael's, etc. perform the same function. but anytime i start thinking "maybe i'll stay home tonight" on a wednesday (as i did last week due to sickness), i'm haunted by words a friend said to me in another context a few years ago: "how many next times do you think there are going to be?" the end of el wreck will prolly also mark the end of the jam, and that saddens me, as much as i've enjoyed playing with jam-meister lee allen throughout this endeavor.

lee-boy was there last night, his new toys (sampler/sequencer) sounding more under control and better integrated into his thang. elsewhere in a comment on this blog, matt hembree (bassist extraordinaire with goodwin / pablo & the hemphill 7 / the underground railroad / stoogeaphilia) writes quite eloquently about the art of bassplaying, but lee-boy's something entahrly other -- like a busy, very musical bassist (his idols / models be's jaco and flea) combined with a fiery, aggressive metal gtrist (he likes that tapping shite a lot). he's my favorite groovemaker / bandleader on this erf. wonder if he noticed me playing funkadelic "red hot mama" against his "voodoo chile" last night?

lucas white has become "the regular drummer," superseding josh clark (who now has his own wednesday night thang goin' on again at fonky fred's), dave karnes (playing more jazz gigs now, or so i hear), and the memory of joe "drumzilla" cruz. lucas learned valuable lessons playing with jazz gtrist keith wingate (other jamcat connexxxion: keith gifted me the indo strat a.k.a. "black gold" and li'l roland cube 60 a.k.a. "the best amp i've ever owned" a coupla years back, bless him) and found himself kicking the traps behind confusatron. now he's the skinsman evabody wants to play with (ask marcus lawyer, f'rinstance, or john zaskoda), a versatile muso who can groove or rawk with the best of 'em (and frequently does). nice cat, too. and he _listens_. what more could ya want?

ron "the velvet hammer" geida and john "johnny peckerwood" shook form the backbone of barber mack on gtr and bass respectively (it's shook's band). i've known 'em for a decade or so (ron a little more, john a little less) from zoo music, where ron taught two of my kids gtr, and he 'n' i followed each others' trials 'n' tribs through various bands and even had one together for a very, um, interesting year once. john was always "good kid gtr" behind the counter at zoo until he emerged (in my consciousness, at least) as a monster bassplayer with blues cat hosea robinson and reggae rocker kulcha far i. they've been in each other's pockets since teaming up with kulcha and in jasper stone. ron's a player of impeccable touch and taste and john's grown up (he only just turned 25, jayzus christ!) to be one of the finest musos in the fort. one of these days, i do believe he's going to mount his beatles revolver show. ("of course, it's hard. if it was easy, _everyone_ would do it.")

also on board last night: ruben salazar from denton improv outfit liquid bounce (who were as surprised to be nominated in the fw weekly music awards "blues/funk" category as were the barber mack boyzzz), playing a bass synth he bought from james norris, and scott griffin (i didn't realize until last night that the reason he's no longer "vernon" is because he'd taken his wife's name) on very fonky bass for a coupla toons (which came with the realization that we'd been playing the form to his old band sally majestic's toon "bobo" wrong; duh).

last night we played a mix of improvs that ebbed 'n' flowed but felt organic and together, somehow, and covers we could play in our sleep. i particularly dug the kinda somber 'n' elegiac "maggot brain" with just the jam-meister 'n' me, with shook joining in on drums after a minute, and jeff beck's "you know what i mean" has become the popular crowd pleaser. of course, lee's always gonna wanna play "war pigs," and so we did. it felt good, it felt right, it felt _the way it's supposed to be_, and at the end of the night, i couldn't help thinking how much i'm gonna miss this shit when it's over for good.