RSVP ?

The three prime tables at RevRoom were already reserved when I got there.
Sloppily-torn strips of paper taped to the tables said so, written with a pen that'll never be accused of being bold.
Then these fine-ass folded signs were added, and they really hit the mark before sagging:


Yeah, it says "R S V P", which is French for Are you coming the fuck over or what? Let me know.
Ooops.





My actual problem is that the Reservers didn't show up until 11:20pm to take possesion of their respectfully vacant tables and chairs, while the rest of the club was already bursting at the seams.
That's bullshit, especially when they didn't even need all 3 tables and the one in the photo is where I prefer to place my equipment.
The crappy sign kept my favorite location empty and unproductive until I snapped and ripped it out.
Installed a trio of bikers there to stabilize my borders.

Yes, a sash is in my photo.
There's a first time for everything.
By all reports (I was 2 busy 2 look) it said "Bride 2B", so of course I was dealing with classy people who still didn't bother to RSVP that third table.

Overkill

If one subwoofer is good, three is better.

Might as well use a mixer with twice as many channels as you need, and add an extra rack of EQ's and compressors while you're at it.

I had fun at The Blue Mustang.

Washing The Trailer

The band's f-ing trailer has been living in my garage since March, taking up all the extra space and making my workbench and powertools distant memories.

Years of filth were allowed to accumulate on it (intentionally) as a theft deterrent, and I can't fault the reasoning.
A clean trailer looks like it might have some good shit inside that's worth stealing. A band or DJ logo on the side practically guarantees a cut-off lock.

My position is that if it isn't in my garage it's on the way to a club where it's quickly emptied. When it sits alone in the parking lot there's nothing to steal.
Mainly, I just got tired of having to change my shirt every time I bumped into it, which happened a LOT since there's just no way to avoid it in my packed garage.



So I took it to the car wash, and brought a ladder.
My phone (LG EnV2) is the only camera I have that fits in a pocket, so that was part of the plan from the start.

One of my favorite phone pics ever.
If your monitor is calibrated you can even tell that the foam bubbles are pink.


Another side of this is pride--I got tired of driving around in public with such a filthy follower.
After replacing the tail lights and all of the wiring, adding safety chains and a new jack, installing a new lock system, and sweeping out years of dirt and hair, I thought the poor thing deserved a bath.

Bassic Repairs

An old Ibanez bass showed up at my house tossed in the back of a pickup truck with no case.
It had crapped-out many years ago, but was remembered fondly.


There was no cover plate on the back, just duct tape protecting the wiring and keeping the battery from falling out. Step 1 was selecting a solvent that would get rid of tape spooge without damaging the finish, then scrub the bass clean of beer, sweat, and essence of whore.
Step 2 was to dive into her spaghetti guts and figure out why she was mute and slightly retarded.
I won't bore you with the details because it's tedious work I'd rather forget.
Newer instruments have a drop-in circuit board that takes care of everything, but then I wouldn't have a chance in hell of even diagnosing the problem let alone fixing it.
Computer chipz aren't friendly to us old-school soldering gun & hammer types.

Step 3 was finding some plastic and fabricating a new back cover.
For a paying customer I would have gone out and bought some, but on this project my budget was zero so I used an EXIT sign scrounged from a dumpster for a previous project.
After cutting it to shape with an ExActo knife and sanding it down to fit (a bitch!) I drilled and countersunk the screw holes, painted the backside white, and glued a layer of aluminum foil to it for RFI rejection. You can see where there's some Ibanez foil tape to transfer ground connection to the plate in the 1st pic.

Step 4 was to find the correct allen wrench and adjust a steel truss-rod inside the neck. After letting the neck "settle" for a day I adjusted it again, then went to work on the bridge to fine-tune the action (string height).

Step 5 = Intonation.
Depending on how high the strings are and what gauge/tension strings you prefer, the bridge saddles have to be moved to shorten or lengthen the vibrating length of each string so it will play in-tune all the way up your neck.
Steps 4 & 5 are an interrelated balancing act that must be performed periodically, and any time you change string gauge or even brand.
Many musicians haven't a clue how to do this, and the ones who also can't afford to pay a professional to do it for them will forever suffer from that "garage band" sound.
You've heard what I'm talking about--chords sound a little "odd" and despite tuning between every song none of the instruments in the band agree on what exactly constitutes a G#. Yuck!
I taught myself these skills when I was 14 and have made a few bucks on the side over the decades since.
It's also a good way to spend quality time with a lot of different instruments and learn their secrets.

I brought the newly Zzakk'd bass to the next gig, and I thought it sounded much better than the one I've been listening to for 19 months.
Longer sustain, no dead notes (F#), less muddy/more even tone.
After one set I was waiting for the old bass to come out of it's case, but it didn't happen.

At the end of the night I was asked to put this one in the case and leave the other one naked.
The photo above is from the next gig and Miz Ibanez Roja again handled the whole night and in fact the other bass was left at home, so I guess my efforts were successful.
Since I prefer this one's sound and will have to listen to it for 24+ hours a month, I'm very happy that the owner is happy.

BTW, I would have charged anyone else $75-100 for the work but I consider stuff like this part of my job.
Yet another step towards being irreplaceable.

Rockstar Academy

You could do a lot worse than take career advice from Michael Morales.
After all, he's had a hit record.
(A cover of What I Like About You by The Romantics. Repeat--a cover).

And he's a Grammy winning producer, for...I don't know.
Probably a Latin Grammy.

And he's done time for extortion, related to his brother or cousin or somebody running for governor. Blackmailed the opposition and got caught.
State prison teaches you many useful skills.

But the name Rockstar Academy really turns me off.
People love to use that word way too much to suit me.
Some 12 year old kid sings a song and knows three chords, and proud mommy calls them a rockstar.
An 18 year old joins a band and plays a backyard party, they call themselves a rockstar.
But after 29 years in the music business, including several years leading bands that played in front of huge crowds I have never once thought I was one.

Let me break it down:
Bono = Rockstar
Jonas Brothers = Not

Jimmy Page = Rockstar
Miley Cyrus = Not

Gene Simmons = Rockstar
Michael Morales = Not

Slash = Rockstar
Axl Rose = Not

Imrov

Improv is generally understood as being short for Improvisation but surely the notion that you Improve upon the original is implied?

The table was right where I needed the monitor speaker to be, and moving the table to make room for a big tripod wasn't allowed.
So I improvised a solution: pole out of tripod and into umbrella hole, speaker mounted on pole, situation improved.
The offending table lost none of it's function, yet we could hear the vocals from the direction needed. In fact, having the option of umbrella outside/speaker indoors obviously improves the table's utility and value.

I wasn't the only person who took photos or video.

Potty Humor

I didn't put that bumper sticker in the urinal, but I would have given the chance.

What I also like is the classic additions of a cigarette butt and a wad of gum.
Perfectly authentic, and thankfully there's no barf.
On this particular night the odds weren't good that any toilet in the building would survive without getting some.
I got lucky.

Craig's List: Lefty Instruments

Here's a Craig's List ad that I found interesting:


We'll hit the typos first:
Sound Gear is a typical typo--the writer was thinking ahead to the G in Gear and dropped it into the D's position.
Losing the 2nd E in Peavey twice was pure dumb, especially since he has the amp right there to double-check.
But I like that he spelled 'cord' correctly.
Most beginners soon learn that muliple notes played at the same time with a musical relationship is called a chord, so when entry-level gear appears for sale it invariably includes a chord instead of the shielded cable with 1/4" plugs the rest of us know as a cord.
Kudos, grasshopper.

What got me was the mention that it was a "right-handed" bass, until I looked at the photos.
Did he flip them 180 degrees to attract attention and be clever, or was this one of those amazing errors that amateur photogs manage to produce somehow?
I don't know, but it struck me as funny.
At least he knew that the first photo was misleading by showing what appears to be a left-handed instrument, so I appreciate the clarification.
We have to assume that it's a right-handed amp, too.


Lefty instruments are an anomaly in the music business.
In the 1980s Aerosmith's Joe Perry played left-handed Fender Strats, followed by his copycats like Warren DeMartini of Ratt and George Lynch of Dokken, attempting to channel the cool factor of Jimi Hendrix who had little choice but to play right-handed Strats flipped over since he was a southpaw.

There are actual tonal and string-response factors that make flipping a Stratocaster the wrong way desirable, but the inconvenience of knobs and switches and output jacks and tuners being on the wrong side means that you have to be pretty hardcore to relearn most operational aspects.

As it is, the numbers of lefty guitars produced are far below the percentage of left-handed people in the population.
Because they require serious manufacturer's effort and cost to produce compared to meager sales, only a very few guitar models (and probably less basses) are ever made left-handed.
They are rare and pricey.

My theory is that lefties are often discouraged when they first try to play guitar since 98% of the ones in stores and among their friends are "normal" and thus are stringed the "wrong" way, so they either quit early or never start at all, which reduces the demand and buying power of this minority.

With drums, you just swap everything to the opposite side.
Keyboards are only made one way--learn it or don't--but at least the controls are still in a logical place so there's no great hardship.
Guitars and basses are hard to find for left-handed people, so I'm not surprised that this craigslister with the oddly-flipped photos made sure to specify that the instrument was a righty, to avoid the waves of disappointed minor league pitchers who might have wasted his time responding to the ad.

Abbey Road & Evergreen Terrace

I don't remember where I found this, but it's a gem!
Taken mere seconds before the iconic Abbey Road album cover photo, complete with anonymous onlookers.

Marge was always a Ringo fan, but I don't see any other connections as to how they chose which Beatle the other Simpsons would portray.

Any ideas?

Frenzy Art

This awesome switchplate was a gift from Selma M.
She comments on my blogs, drinks tequila with me, makes me laugh, flings corn and mashed potatos onto my shirt, and cries when I give her the perfect photo.
Selma has more of my prints than anyone else.

Apparently she saw this in some funky shop near Dallas and knew I would love it, and man was she right.
Firstly, I've been really into skulls for the last few years, especially Mexican Day Of The Dead imagery.
When she gave it to me I had just been offered my dream job of playing bass with my favorite local musicians and what do you know?
The mohawked skeleton is playing a bass.
Plus there are stage lights (another big thing with me) and a cool coffin guitar case.
When my new band starts doing gigs I won't be wearing shorts, but who wants to bet against me having my first-ever mohawk?

I have it on the light/ceiling fan switch 6 feet to my right, so I can see it all the time.
Thanks, Selma!!!
You nailed me with this suprise gift.

"Frenzy Art is Functional Art & Diabolical Gifts Celebrating the Mexican Day of the Dead (...& every other day).
Frenzy Art comes from the mind of artist Ladislao Loera."

I don't have any contact info, but Google shouldn't have any trouble.

The 8th Dwarf?

Drinky, Sleazy, Douchebag, Throw-Up, Wussy, Stinky, Wanker, and introducing:
Mopey.

Assistant video boy, hair tugger, zit farmer, nincompoop.
Never saw his eyes, never heard a word, never saw any initiative except for when he was bootlegging my band's performance, as seen here.
I guess Chrissy got him half-hard (all that can be expected) but she's twice the man he'll ever be.
Also never saw him in a situation that mattered where the cam didn't get taken away by his boss.
So sad...

I'm not cruel by nature, but haven't we all been exposed to someone who just made you want to stand on their neck until something pops?
Mopey wasn't interested in improving, which is the greatest sin of all.

Just In Case...

...you don't visit the photoblog where I post pics and commentary for the three bands that I work with, here's a tasty shot using wireless remote flash and some bonus cigarette smoke from the drunk chicks that spiked local sales figures of Michelob Ultra tonight.