Step By Step... by George Ziemann -- May 17, 2009 Last night I did another gig with Hurricane Alley and things got a little weird. While this was not a good thing at the time, it should be entertaining for readers. Odd thing number one was that we weren't going to start until 11:00 p.m. because we were playing in a restaurant/bar and they served food until 10. Then they move some of the tables and the band plays in the corner, in front of a big screen TV. No, they don't turn it off when you're playing. Anyway, this meant we only got to play two sets. That was kind of disappointing because I need to play each and every one of their songs, preferably at least twice in the same year. I was hoping for a full night. When I got there, the drums were already in place, which brings us to odd/weird thing number two -- the boulder in front of the kick drum. Manny has spiky legs on the kick that usually let it grip in carpet, put they were useless on the wood floor. So someone got a boulder (about 2 feet across). It didn't work as well as you might think, giving Manny a +3 level of difficulty whenever his drums started inching further and further away. If the drums slide too far away, Manny is going to miss a beat, and we're all screwed then. For the rest of us, the inability to hear vocals gave us a handicap of our own. Not that this is an excuse for the brain farts, which randomly struck all of us, just so no one would feel left out. This was only my second job with these guys, so I'm still basically rehearsing, although I do my homework. Personally, it wasn't the new stuff I'm learning that was a problem as much as "dead zones" in songs I knew how to play correctly two weeks ago, or maybe something I transcribed wrong. Keep in mind that, while we do throw in originals, most of our club repertoire is older rock, which brings us to the personally weird spots. Stormy Monday -- Way back in January 2008, I played with these guys and didn't play on this one because it's got a couple of weird things in it that I hadn't played recently enough to be confident. Two weeks ago, we played it (twice, actually), and I had the chord structure together and was falling into the band's groove. Last night, Carl turns to me in the middle of the song and says to play a lead. Although I have played this song before, it's always been background for guitarists. I don't believe that I had ever considered playing a lead to it before that very second. Too late. It was sad (since it's basically a blues pattern) but at least I ended at the right place. Play That Funky Music -- There is a clavinet part in this one that's kind of core to the song and Tim has been covering it on bass until now. I've never learned it before because... well, it's disco and disco sucks. That used to be enough of a reason. Having actually spent some time on it as part of my homework, I found the groove of it last night and was playing along, happy with the clavinet sound. Having not spent enough time on this song, it was necessary to watch my hands play it in order to get it right. So I'm kind of intent on just keeping my place, when suddenly it's just me and the drummer. Perhaps if I could have heard the vocals, I could have had a clue what just happened and streamed right through it. But I can't hear the vocals, even though we're not very loud at all, and there could have been a cue (or an entire monologue) by Tim and I wouldn't have known it. All I did know is that everyone but Manny stopped and I don't know why because I can't look up or I'll screw up for sure. I'm thinking, 'Oh shit! What happened to everyone else?' It's this last thought that immediately spawns several related thoughts. Do I stop at the end of this pattern? Do I keep going? I can't possibly have a featured part because I never played this song live with them before. I should have stopped two measures ago. Why did everyone stop? Will they start playing again any time soon? Having actual thoughts in the middle of a song is never a good thing, at least not for me. The sudden burst of cosmic debris distracts me into going off the edge and losing it for a second, which I try to turn into a "planned" little clavinet syncopated lead. It's kind of weak, but I keep it short, then go back into the main pattern again until the end of the song. Immigrant Song -- Carl turns to me and says, "Help me with the opening." He's talking about a Robert Plant scream, and he says it like he thinks it's something I can do. That's the whole joke. There were some good parts in there, too, but they're not as funny. The Album Seven of the 14 songs the band (Hurricane Alley) has recorded are in their final state. The quality is consistent, and that's what is holding things up. Between the first song and the 14th, the bar was raised significantly. Now I'm in the last stage of bringing the rest up to the same standard. Another week or three and we'll have samples of the finished product available on the music page.