So I never heard of Amy Winehouse until some news headline flashed by, and here she is winning Grammys ‘n shit. Popped her name into pandora to give a listen. Sounds fine, whatever. She’s got a pseudo-R&B thing going on, and maybe I don’t listen to enough pop radio to keep my pseudo-R&B ears tuned in to the subtleties. I like Alicia Keyes, maybe they’re a similar genre, what do I know. The great thing about the article I read was it said Herbie Hancock won something too. Yay jazz!
The school went to a local jazz fest recently and it reminded me of my storied youth, though I admit the best part was seeing a band from another school with a kid in it we’ve known since baby days, and his parents. There are some fine young musicians out there. I always tell ‘em, don’t give it up. I can still hear an old neighbor of mine, telling me when I was seventeen or so, don’t give it up! Well, I did. But the genetics ring true and both my boys are performing, one way or another, and the day isn’t over for me yet either. Seriously thinking of getting a replacement horn and cranking it up again. What’s an hour a day when all I’m committed to otherwise is a serious new job, working out daily, real writing (don’t laugh), revitalizing my ancient Jeep in time for summer trips and getting some of the landscaping done we’ve been putting off all decade. What’s another hour a day, right?
The next obvious question has this answer: It helps somehow, I don’t know why, it just does. I suppose if I really needed to stop blogging I would, but then I may as well stop checking the online news, or reading other people’s stuff, or I don’t know, and would that really serve a purpose? Noop.
So what about the singing, you ask. You don’t? Anyway, we had a great quartet, we did, but it is defunct, as one guy retired and another one quit the firm and took his wife and four kids and moved away to Montana. And then last week I ran into him in the stairwell. Seems he couldn’t sell his house. No surprise. Then he couldn’t get an engineering job in Montana. It’s like you have to know people or something. Well, um, yes, or rather I should say: DUH. So he came back and the good news is the company hired him back but the bad news is he now works for the other guy who was in the quartet, and he’s getting to know him a whole lot better than he ever really wanted to and doesn’t think he could take singing with him on top of working with him. So no reunion. I said I understood totally, and it was true. I know exactly what he’s talking about. And that’s where I leave it.
So, speakin’ of jazz, doesn’t Family Guy have the best music? And The Incredibles. I may have to go get the soundtrack. Every house needs some faux sixties secret agent music, and I don’t mean just tracks from Austin Powers (though we have that too). Yup. What was that music Bob Wilkins played on Creature Features again? I don’t care if it was cheesy late-night seventies television, it was absolutely brilliantly inappropriate to accompany second-rate horror movies.
I’m beating myself up here. Why do I think blog posts should be short and have a point? Something’s nagging me about it. I’d better post this before that nagging voice compels me to do something rash. (And I don't mean put in even more links.)
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Monday, October 29, 2007
It was a Graveyard Smash
Saturday night was the night of Halloween parties, the Exotic Erotic Ball, radio station copycat events, people dressing up their inner slutmonster, acres of flesh and fishnet, a little fake blood and lots of alcohol. Good times! But alas we didn’t go do that. We went to our local roadhouse and babysat.
All right, we went a-people-watching. But when the average age in all five bands and the audience is twenty four with a standard deviation of two it didn’t feel entirely complete as a people-watching project. The Boardwalk is not large and it was not packed and after looking around I could not help but conclude there were three kinds of people in attendance:
1. Family and friends of the bands
2. Local weird fuck-ups who needed to get out of the subsidized housing for a few hours and this was the only place they could get to without having to resort to a bicycle
3. Us
About two thirds of this crew were either in costume (e.g. cute little bug antennae, miniskirt, striped hose and high heels) or in “costume” (e.g. Hawaiian shirt, porkpie, and a pair of aviators – alas, no cigarette holder). Given some of the costumes and the ages of the girls in them, you are right to suppose the view was not always objectionable, but mostly I ignored all that because, after all, well. Put it this way. There were five people in the place older than us, and none less than twenty years younger. But I liked the music, and it was for music and to watch the costumed crowdly dynamics that we went.
Generally alt metal hardcore fusion, I suppose, I don’t know. The subgenres escape me but they were actually singing, not screaming, so it was all good. I talked to the lead guitarist for one band – an Asian guy about five feet tall with a goatee and a cowboy hat – and told him his band sounded pretty good, I liked the sound. He said, hey, thanks, and went on about CDs and t-shirts for sale in the back but he was extremely friendly about it, and I asked if they were from around here (“here” potentially meaning any part of Northern California outside the Bay Area) and he said, you kidding, we all live just down the street.
Down the street. Okay, and the main act got started at the local high school five or six years ago. So it turned out we were supporting local music. That helped explain two of the five people who were our age plus: A middle-aged couple looking a little lost and self-conscious, no doubt absorbing what their kid has been doing with his prime college-attending years. They didn't stay very long. (The other three were one of the owners; a bouncer, who to be fair might only have looked old, it’s a rough life doing nothing but hanging out at a rocker / biker bar; and a mysterious first-cohort Boomer with a gray Prince Valiant haircut who carried himself with an intriguing lack of self-confidence.)
What else, I’m trying to wrap this up. Was I in costume? Not if a black Rob Zombie t-shirt isn’t a costume. Some might say it is the costume of a guy who dresses (and acts, or at least thinks) like a teenager, but since Rob Zombie isn’t a whole lot younger than me I’d say no, it was just my scariest black t-shirt. That doesn’t say much for my collection of black t-shirts. I’m going to have to work on that, or come up with a real costume, if we’re going to continue with this new gig of not having small children anymore and thus being free to go out at Halloween.
All right, we went a-people-watching. But when the average age in all five bands and the audience is twenty four with a standard deviation of two it didn’t feel entirely complete as a people-watching project. The Boardwalk is not large and it was not packed and after looking around I could not help but conclude there were three kinds of people in attendance:
1. Family and friends of the bands
2. Local weird fuck-ups who needed to get out of the subsidized housing for a few hours and this was the only place they could get to without having to resort to a bicycle
3. Us
About two thirds of this crew were either in costume (e.g. cute little bug antennae, miniskirt, striped hose and high heels) or in “costume” (e.g. Hawaiian shirt, porkpie, and a pair of aviators – alas, no cigarette holder). Given some of the costumes and the ages of the girls in them, you are right to suppose the view was not always objectionable, but mostly I ignored all that because, after all, well. Put it this way. There were five people in the place older than us, and none less than twenty years younger. But I liked the music, and it was for music and to watch the costumed crowdly dynamics that we went.
Generally alt metal hardcore fusion, I suppose, I don’t know. The subgenres escape me but they were actually singing, not screaming, so it was all good. I talked to the lead guitarist for one band – an Asian guy about five feet tall with a goatee and a cowboy hat – and told him his band sounded pretty good, I liked the sound. He said, hey, thanks, and went on about CDs and t-shirts for sale in the back but he was extremely friendly about it, and I asked if they were from around here (“here” potentially meaning any part of Northern California outside the Bay Area) and he said, you kidding, we all live just down the street.
Down the street. Okay, and the main act got started at the local high school five or six years ago. So it turned out we were supporting local music. That helped explain two of the five people who were our age plus: A middle-aged couple looking a little lost and self-conscious, no doubt absorbing what their kid has been doing with his prime college-attending years. They didn't stay very long. (The other three were one of the owners; a bouncer, who to be fair might only have looked old, it’s a rough life doing nothing but hanging out at a rocker / biker bar; and a mysterious first-cohort Boomer with a gray Prince Valiant haircut who carried himself with an intriguing lack of self-confidence.)
What else, I’m trying to wrap this up. Was I in costume? Not if a black Rob Zombie t-shirt isn’t a costume. Some might say it is the costume of a guy who dresses (and acts, or at least thinks) like a teenager, but since Rob Zombie isn’t a whole lot younger than me I’d say no, it was just my scariest black t-shirt. That doesn’t say much for my collection of black t-shirts. I’m going to have to work on that, or come up with a real costume, if we’re going to continue with this new gig of not having small children anymore and thus being free to go out at Halloween.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Field of Dreams
One of my dreams has been to sing the National Anthem for a professional baseball game. I love baseball, I love to sing, I love to sing outdoors, baseball is outdoors, and the National Anthem isn’t so bad a song. The controversial swirl of current events notwithstanding, it is an honor to sing for the flag and for the crowd.
A few months ago my workplace quartet went to an audition. We did all right. For Friday June 22nd they gave us tickets and parking and told us to be there at five thirty for a sound check. Raley Field was empty of fans but people were scurrying about getting ready for the show and we sang our song down on the field and the guy looked bored and said it sounded fine and we hung out for an hour and watched the shadows creep across the seats.
Later on the seats were filled and we sat down by the field awaiting our turn. Every game is preceded by a ceremony and tonight’s was to honor the region’s best high school baseball and softball players. Two of them were from my kids’ high school and I yahooed. One of the others had already been drafted by a major league team. The kids stood in two rows looking like normal kids who also happen to be top-notch athletes. A handful of old pros and dignitaries were set in chairs for decoration, including Dusty Baker’s dad, representing his son’s local baseball academy. He had huge eyeglasses and I felt like he was staring at me the whole time. Probably everyone within six rows of home plate felt the same way.
Around seven we were ushered to the microphone, arranged ourselves around it, and did our thing. People cheered, we went to our seats, sat with family, ate too much, and watched the Sacramento Rivercats beat the Tacoma Rainiers 12 to 4. AAA baseball is the best. The atmosphere is relaxed, and every seat is a good seat.
The Cats sent us a DVD of the entire game. Here I've clipped out our part. The Mrs also took a video, and it has better sound.
It was a trip. And it was a privilege.
MRS:
DVD:
A few months ago my workplace quartet went to an audition. We did all right. For Friday June 22nd they gave us tickets and parking and told us to be there at five thirty for a sound check. Raley Field was empty of fans but people were scurrying about getting ready for the show and we sang our song down on the field and the guy looked bored and said it sounded fine and we hung out for an hour and watched the shadows creep across the seats.
Later on the seats were filled and we sat down by the field awaiting our turn. Every game is preceded by a ceremony and tonight’s was to honor the region’s best high school baseball and softball players. Two of them were from my kids’ high school and I yahooed. One of the others had already been drafted by a major league team. The kids stood in two rows looking like normal kids who also happen to be top-notch athletes. A handful of old pros and dignitaries were set in chairs for decoration, including Dusty Baker’s dad, representing his son’s local baseball academy. He had huge eyeglasses and I felt like he was staring at me the whole time. Probably everyone within six rows of home plate felt the same way.
Around seven we were ushered to the microphone, arranged ourselves around it, and did our thing. People cheered, we went to our seats, sat with family, ate too much, and watched the Sacramento Rivercats beat the Tacoma Rainiers 12 to 4. AAA baseball is the best. The atmosphere is relaxed, and every seat is a good seat.
The Cats sent us a DVD of the entire game. Here I've clipped out our part. The Mrs also took a video, and it has better sound.
It was a trip. And it was a privilege.
MRS:
DVD:
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Shut Up and Sing
We didn’t enter the company talent show to win. We didn’t enter to prove anything. We didn’t even enter to meet chicks. We entered because there frankly isn’t a whole lot of call for the kind of stuff we sing, and hey, man, a gig is a gig.
It was all about raising money for United Way. That was the corporate line. Not that I doubt it. My employer, Infamous Megamultinational Corporation, has about a zillion irons in the fire, and not all of them are about making money. A glance at the past several years’ stock price performance proves that but even so, people like to help people, and if the mighty Corporation can support its people in helping people and get some good P.R. and maybe a tax break or two, then they are there, they are on task, they are resourced, lines up, ready to go. Organizers stepped up to organize, promoters stepped up to promote, talent stepped up to be talented, and everyone was given the green light to volunteer all the out-of-hours time they needed to get the job done.
So to ramp up and draw attention to the fund drives, they had a talent show. Loosely based on some TV show I’ve never seen with "Idol" in the title but that I’m familiar with because of the end of that Shrek movie, it was MC’d by an employee with a knack for public wisecracking and judged by three more employees with a knack for … Well, they were game. Give ‘em credit for that. Over a dozen acts appeared out of the employee pool, people with some honest to goodness ability and a willingness to shame themselves in front of their co-workers, employees, and potential hiring managers. Give them credit too. Risk-taking is one of the Corporate Values by which we are exhorted to live our work lives. Given that when it comes to public musical performance, the less the talent, the greater the risk, some of the performers truly took that particular value to heart.
For our part, it wasn’t about risk, and it wasn’t so much about United Way. It was about singing. Here was a place to do it, with an audience and microphones and everything. How could we resist? Let’s be honest, raising money for charity and all is great, but for creative types, the play’s the thing, or the book, or the song. So here’s our song.
Did it last year too. I think I mentioned it in the old blog (since extinct). We never saw a vid of ourselves, never got any useful feedback, and I think it shows. Besides, we're a bunch of engineers. But you know what? Fun! That's what.
Second from right in the first one and far right in the second one, that's me.
It was all about raising money for United Way. That was the corporate line. Not that I doubt it. My employer, Infamous Megamultinational Corporation, has about a zillion irons in the fire, and not all of them are about making money. A glance at the past several years’ stock price performance proves that but even so, people like to help people, and if the mighty Corporation can support its people in helping people and get some good P.R. and maybe a tax break or two, then they are there, they are on task, they are resourced, lines up, ready to go. Organizers stepped up to organize, promoters stepped up to promote, talent stepped up to be talented, and everyone was given the green light to volunteer all the out-of-hours time they needed to get the job done.
So to ramp up and draw attention to the fund drives, they had a talent show. Loosely based on some TV show I’ve never seen with "Idol" in the title but that I’m familiar with because of the end of that Shrek movie, it was MC’d by an employee with a knack for public wisecracking and judged by three more employees with a knack for … Well, they were game. Give ‘em credit for that. Over a dozen acts appeared out of the employee pool, people with some honest to goodness ability and a willingness to shame themselves in front of their co-workers, employees, and potential hiring managers. Give them credit too. Risk-taking is one of the Corporate Values by which we are exhorted to live our work lives. Given that when it comes to public musical performance, the less the talent, the greater the risk, some of the performers truly took that particular value to heart.
For our part, it wasn’t about risk, and it wasn’t so much about United Way. It was about singing. Here was a place to do it, with an audience and microphones and everything. How could we resist? Let’s be honest, raising money for charity and all is great, but for creative types, the play’s the thing, or the book, or the song. So here’s our song.
Did it last year too. I think I mentioned it in the old blog (since extinct). We never saw a vid of ourselves, never got any useful feedback, and I think it shows. Besides, we're a bunch of engineers. But you know what? Fun! That's what.
Second from right in the first one and far right in the second one, that's me.
