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Monday, January 31, 2005

Band Seduction?

The Stir the Soul Birthday party was amazing fun while I was there. Nice sound set up, my monitor was perfect. The best part was that James Albritton on drums, Lee Evans on bass and another percussionist named Rick backed me. "Who needs rehearsal?" James' new mantra. I think I learned what musical seduction is all about. A hot live rhythm section flashed it's ample cleavage at me. Left me wanting more.

I never wanted to do anything but play alone. Go solo. No conflicts, no splitting the take. I even recorded alone, track by track. But that was FUN! James has jammed with me a number of times on guitar but he's an even better drummer. I just got so pumped by the experience. I will certainly do more jamming in those kinds of situations. I don't want to be tied to a band, however. But I'll never pass up the opportunity to sit in. Next week I'll probably go up to Sarasota to check out that late night jam for songwriters. I must be the oldest damn infant musician in the world. Infant Terrible.

A scene from Saturday night at Bella Luna Cafe flashed on me. I had a full room except for a table right in front of me and some spots at the bar. I had James Albritton come up and play his new jazz box while I did some blues. Bill, the owner came in with friends and filled the empty table. He looked nervously at James and wondered, I guessed, if he was gonna have to pay him too. Later I had to explain that it was just a thing we do, drop in and sit in with each other. His relief was palpable. He's so new at this. I took a quick pit stop and got back up and started doing my own material again since the crowd was mostly new. Sr. Mary Confusing was obviously appreciated by some of the older people in the room who shared my experience and understood what I meant when I said it was an autobiographical piece I wrote about doing 18 years of hard time in Catholic school. One of the ladies at Bill's table told me a few times she loved that song. So I said, "Well it's on my CD," motioning to the rack I set up in front of me. She kind of clapped her hands in a little girl way and jumped up and asked her husband for the money. He gave her one of those go away looks and sneered at her. She registered a brief but well defined expression of hurt and embarrassment and never looked my way again. It was the end of the night and they left. I should have chased her down and given her a CD. Regret is a recurring fire ant bite on the ass.

posted by Bud @ 7:21 AM

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