Hickoids, The Mix - San Antonio, 3/28/2018

Hello and welcome to another "I played a gig" post. Last night (technically two nights ago, as I'm writing this after midnight the day after, or two days after....oh, whatever), the Hickoids played The Mix in San Antonio, warming the crowd up for Fang. The show managed to occur on the second night of some immense rain in San Antonio. My entire night was made when, as I pulled up to The Mix, I saw Jeff Smith walk out and save me a parking space right next to the front door. I love this man.

Our show went okay, although the sound was pretty weird onstage. The vocal mix was sadly lacking, on the stage and in the audience. Jeff's vocals frequently sounded ultra-distorted and mine were barely audible. Fang and the special surprise guest at the end, Natural Velvet, had the same issues. Maybe a better PA for The Mix someday? It was the first time we'd played there in roughly three years....maybe more....I'm not sure we had played there with Cody in the band yet. Decent crowd, though. They braved the rain, seemed to enjoy us and definitely rocked out to Fang. And Fang......man. It may be about three times as tired watching them as it was playing our own set. That band fires on all cylinders and does not let up. They're a textbook case of professionalism in punk rock, if that doesn't sound too weird. Each song led straight into the next. No one took a drink or tuned. No breaks. Wow. I was floored.

Natural Velvet, from Baltimore, was added to the bill at the end. They were on a tour, and Michelle and I had just seen them on Monday in Austin at the Sahara. Nice folks, good music, and a drummer whose style I loved.

That's it....I'm off to bed in a bit. Maybe write some more about other goings on tomorrow. Yeah, that's it......

Tired, So Very Tired

And I've gotten enough sleep. This has nothing to do with that. I'm just tired. And overwhelmed. It feels like time for a big media break. Or break from media. Including all social media. I wouldn't be on most of them if it were not for having to help promote my bands. I have enough friends and am very lucky to have them. Friends I see and socialize with, it having nothing to do with what they saw me do on Facebook, etc.

Lately, I've been feeling fatigued and have been wondering why. I'm not THAT old. 56 isn't a spring chicken. But I'm in reasonably good health and have no real reason to feel pooped all the time. I usually chalk some of it up to allergies, and that may very well be the case, but I'm starting to think more and more that I just want a simpler life. Or at least live in a simpler environment. I can retire from my job at any point now, but I do make good money and get to work mostly from home. Hard to beat that.

Michelle and I have been to Costa Rica five times, and I've loved each time we've been. Most people, including us, who visit there remark on how the people are so positive and seemingly "full of life," regardless of the station they may hold. "Pura vida!" is the often-heard exclamation. And Costa Rica is indeed one place that couldn't care less about so many of the things that we Americans care about right now. As Groucho once said "break me off a piece of that."

I've been coasting for a very long time now in life. And that's not bad. I haven't had major life changes, illness, or anything of that stripe. I'm truly a lucky man. But sometimes I feel like reaching out for something else before it's too late. And between the constant "noise" of living in the USA, and a certain malaise that's crept into my life, I feel closer to taking that chance. A fresh start in a new country? Maybe. For a long time, Michelle hasn't wanted to live anywhere she was not well-versed in the native language. But she's starting to change her mind on that. I tell her that she'd pick up the language wherever we are soon enough. If it's Central America, Spanish is not that hard at all. And if it's Belize, well, the official language is English.

There are two sticking points to a USA exit. One is my mother is still around and going rather strong at 88. I suppose that could change rapidly, but she'd be pretty lost if I weren't somewhat nearby; I'm the only child, and she's become a hermit of sorts. The other is the two bands I'm in, which I do like playing in a lot. I'm probably the best drummer I've ever been right now. Not ready to give that up yet. Oh, what to do....

So, that's today's musing. Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

Facebook Sucks!

Facebook sucks!

Okay, now that that's out of the way, let's begin. Well, Facebook doesn't really suck; actually, it's a pretty effective, well-designed tool for getting people connected. But then people take over. Is it people who suck, then? I don't subscribe to that philosophy, either. People are just people, for better or worse. Although many times social networking tools like Facebook bring out the worst traits in people. And for this writing, I'm leaving out the recent Cambridge Analytica revelation. That really has little to do with my subject, as intended.

I got on Facebook, as many did, almost ten years ago. It's been nice to re-connect with some long-lost people, see what some friends I don't see often are up to, and watch folks' kids grow up. That last phrase is a particular reminder of not only one's own mortality, but of how much total time can be wasted on Facebook. ("Wait, that's Bobby? Wasn't he just a little tot the other day? How the hell did that happen? Let me get on Geneva's page and look through her photos again! The lawn can wait....")

These days, I use Facebook for three purposes: to promote band activity (as one must do, to try to boost show attendance), to write something that might make someone in Peoria laugh (rare), and to add the odd photo of my wife and I doing something interesting (not as rare). Other than that, I really have no use for it. Most times, I get on it when I receive a notification that interests me, and that's not even that often. While I'll admit to clicking on the occasional article someone might post that might have interest for me, I get most of my news through researching news sites I trust to be impartial. I do like to see what my musician friends are doing; hell, I might even go see one of them play when I have a night off! That alone keeps me from unfollowing the more "armchair politically active" amongst them.

You can tell a lot about a person by their Facebook use. The most socially desperate like to use it as the best "notice ME!" tool in the box. This person is the one who likes to tag people in their posts - a way of trying to force a response. And is that ever annoying, if I'm tagged. Jeebus! Even if I see it fairly soon after postage, I like to wait to respond. The poster deserves it. Tough Love Dept.: if you're that desperate to be connected with and listened to, you don't have enough to do in your life. Start reading or writing a book, compose a song, practice your instrument, look for a job (or a new job), educate yourself further....be productive! Don't waste your life (what you have left of it) looking for other people's validation of your activity.

A particular favorite of mine, and one that I don't see so much these days, is the "well, that sucked!" post. That's all it would say - words to that effect. And obviously baiting the response of "how are you?" or "are you okay??" or "put down the gun!" Speaking of social desperation, I like how there's a horror movie called "Unfriended," the DVD box cover of which has a video camera picture of a wailing teenager. I haven't seen the movie, but the image makes me laugh every time. This is where we're at in the 21st century. Can you imagine time traveling to the beginning of the 20th century and telling a hard-working farmer in the midwest about socially desperate folks on Facebook? The cultural divide of this new century makes more and more sense.

Another good one is the person who posts on Facebook about......how people's posts annoy him/her. Pretty rich. Everybody accepts the friend request of people they see on FB (or they've "friend requested" themselves). Maybe you need to pair down your "following" or "friending" a bit, if it truly bothers you that badly. Or maybe you just have a bit of a fascistic nature, and you want to control people's posting habits. That seems like a closer bet.

Ultimately, I'm a part of the whole game, too. I get that. Sometimes, I think....I should put my money where my mouth is and spend some time unfollowing everybody who annoys me on Facebook. But sometimes (and I mentioned this earlier), I might want to know about a musical event they're involved in. Maybe the person annoys me on FB but is a damned fine drummer or something. Hmm.....what to do? Well, probably nothing. I really don't read much on Facebook; I do a lot of skimming.

Here's my simplistic summary: I think Facebook (and other social media) are fine if used within reason. A little like doughnuts. Have one occasionally, but remember, you're not playing the fat Jake LaMotta next week. Slow down, sonny. Get something done.

Anybody still on Ello?

Honky and a 22-Year Anniversary

For today's post, I've decided to upload a memory I wrote up a couple of weeks ago. This is the saga of how the band Honky came together and a brief synopsis of the band until 2001. I stopped playing with them in 2003 (save the occasional guest shots). There's information out there that's just flat out incorrect about the start of the band, so maybe that's why I want to rectify this. Or maybe I just wanted to get some mostly warm memories down on something (if only digital) until I completely forget them. Hope you enjoy. Today is the 22-year anniversary of the first practice Carson, Jeff and I had together. Mazeltov!

It all began in 1995….or so….

I was drumming in three bands (Noodle, Nipple 5 [alternating with Keith Anderson], Thighmaster) and spending most of my days working, rehearsing, and playing shows….sometimes all in one day. This was in early 1995. I met a guy named Carson Vester, who was a local tattoo artist working at Perfection Tattoo and wanting to play guitar in a band. His only experience, he told me, was two weeks in a band called Double Penetration in Philadelphia. Carson was, and still is, a unique individual. He can make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world, and that your input into it is what makes everything tick. I liked hanging with him. At some point, as we were hashing out who we liked in terms of music, Grand Funk Railroad came up. Carson said “hey, let’s get together and jam some Grand Funk!” Despite my busyness, I was in. At that time, Carson lived in a collection of old warehouses on East Seventh Street, a bit east of Shady Lane, as I recall. He lived there with his girlfriend, Aileen Adler, Jim Chiavaroli (another old friend of mine), and our mutual buddy, Tom King.

We got together in Carson’s warehouse, along with Jim on bass and Aileen on vocals, and started learning some Grand Funk. It came together quickly, and before I knew it, we got a request to play a Valentine’s Day house party with the Nipple 5. Keith was going to drum with the Nipple 5 for that performance, allowing me to concentrate on being as competent as Don Brewer. The show went surprisingly well, with Carson, after admitting to me that he’d taken acid right before we started, especially on fire. (I later learned that one of Carson’s major heroes in the Austin scene was Jukebox….the psychedelics made sense.)

As the days went on following this show, Carson began repeatedly calling my answering machine and leaving guitar riffs as messages and saying “let’s start something!” As it turned out, he had begun working with a band called Skinny Leonard, comprising Jeff Pinkus, Doug Evans (Didjits), Richie Turner (Agony Column), and Frank Garymartin (Pain Teens….and Frank came later, I forget who was first….maybe Jimmy Delp?). And Carson wasn’t totally happy with a lot of the material; too “midwestern” was what he told me one time.  So he wanted a situation where he was the only guitarist.

And so, despite my aforementioned busyness in the rock field, I began irregular rehearsals with Carson, as we began to work up some material. I still vividly remember our first time to do this. Carson started playing the opening riff of what became “Honky Jam.” We ran over that a few times, then we stopped, he looked at me and said “okay, you write the next part!” And that explains why the next part is pretty much two notes with a variation on the ending climb in the first riff. I was unprepared to be an equal contributor! But after a while, we had some semblance of something coming together. He also had the opening riffs of what became “Deezy” and “Nice ‘n’ Tastee.”

What I can’t remember is how many times we got together before the third component came into the picture. I’m thinking not many, or we probably would have had more material going into our first three-piece rehearsal. My memories of these are pretty good, though, and I think it’s because it was just one of those magical times. One of the hardest things to do is start a band from scratch, and Carson was the one pushing this, for sure. Being a drummer, a lot of my career has been joining other people’s already-going projects, so starting something is a rare event for me.

Carson wanted to flesh out the band with bass (obviously), and he suggested a guy named Mark, who he claimed was quite the technician (played with his fingers, no pick, etc.) But for whatever reason, Mark didn’t materialize. I had met him once, through Carson, but I cannot remember his last name, or what his pedigree was.

I started to get itchy. I enjoyed the bands I was in, but I really saw a lot of potential in what we were doing, although, at that time, almost nobody was doing anything with a Johnny Winter/James Gang-type vibe. I didn’t want people to think we were a joke, but I didn’t want things too serious, either. For the record, Voltage started around this time, too, so there was other blues-based hard rock being created in our lil’ community. And there was The Burglarz. Great band…..oh, man…...great band.

As early ‘96 rolled around, my wife at the time and I were about to have our second wedding. Yes, second. We’d gotten married in October of ‘95 in Blue Flamingo, but that was a quickly put together deal that didn’t include family, etc. So we decided to have a second wedding, a little more formal affair, and collect some presents, in March of ‘96. Jonathan Toubin was going to host the reception in his backyard, and we hastily handed out flyers to people we’d see at shows and such. A few folks lived out of town, of course, and I needed to call them about the shindig. One was Jeff Pinkus.

It had been leaked to me by Carson that Jeff was going to ask me to join Daddy Longhead, but due to various reasons, I didn’t want to join. And that’s what happened. Jeff asked me, I politely declined, and after a beat pause, I told him about this new project with Carson. Besides Longhead, and Skinny Leonard, and a brand-new Jefferson, he was playing in a trio with Danny Barnes. Busy guy, but I thought “what the hell?” So I asked Jeff if he had any time and would maybe want to jam with us. I was surprised at his enthusiastic “yes!” At the wedding reception, in Mr. Toubin’s backyard, we discussed getting together the next day. My wife and I were heading out to Wimberley for a close-by honeymoon, but I asked her if it was okay if I had a rehearsal with these guys in Jeff’s San Marcos garage on our way out there. She said yes. No wonder the marriage didn’t last.

Other stuff may be foggy, but I do remember that first rehearsal. Carson and I had what became “Deezy,” “Honky Jam,” and “Nice and Tastee.” Jeff brought in “What She Needs” and a blues number we never really did anything with, although I loved the weird, super-effected bridge part he put in the song. Carson was not a fan of medium-tempo white blues, and I think that song touched too much into that realm for his taste. Jeff added parts to what we already had, and we got those early songs shored up nicely.

And the door had opened. We worked weekly on adding more and more songs. Carson brought in “Smokin’ Weed with Helios Creed,” based on a true story, and “Comes A Time,” which I always loved his vocal on. I had been reading the ZZ Top biography “Sharp Dressed Men,” and there was a story in there about how Billy Gibbons would show up at a black blues club in Houston, wearing a jacket with the name “Mellow Larry” on it, and get on stage to play harmonica with the bands there. The regulars would often shout “where’s Mellow Larry? Get Mellow Larry up there!” Carson and Jeff ran with that story.

The strange thing to me was how much singing I ended up doing in those early days. Carson had some issues playing and singing at the same time, and so some of the songs just fell to me to add lyrics and belt out. “Deezy” and “Sancha” come to mind. “Sancha” grew out of a riff Carson and I worked on while Jeff was on tour with Longhead. “Toy Story” was written primarily by Jeff, but I was inspired to write the lyrics as a rewrite of what Jefferson always seemed to be watching then. (We rehearsed in Jeff’s garage the first four full years of the band.) “Mandingdong” was also written primarily by Jeff, but Carson’s slide lines really made the verses of that one stand out. And “Ticketholder?” All Pinkus. Ask him to tell you that story.

While recording the first album, “Honky,” in early ‘97, Carson told me of his plans to move to Houston; I can still picture that conversation in the little apartment my wife and I had at the time. Uh-oh. He insisted he’d rehearse with us regularly, but that didn’t last long. He had a whole different life after moving in with his girlfriend and her child, and we managed to limp through a couple more years with him….even occasionally adding a new gem, such as “Don’t Shoot Baby I Love You” and “I Might Just Shoot Somebody.” Carson formally left the band in May of 1999, after we finished a small run of shows with Dale Crover’s band Altamont.

Carson’s replacement was Gable Barber, who had been the lead guitarist in the Bulemics. Gable set about learning our catalog and contributing to some new material. We debuted Gable on the Red-Eyed Fly’s newly-built outside stage (I was booking the club at the time) in June of ‘99. Gable was a confident performer on stage, which was something we needed. Especially as I continued to do the bulk of our between-song spiel on stage….strange thing for a drummer to do. We had a run of shows with L7 in August and early September of ‘99 (the “Attacked by Lesbians” live recording is from this time). During the trip, I think some cracks in our unity emerged. Gable was quite a bit younger than Jeff and me, and the gap in our humor was pretty obvious. I still got along with Gable great.

Skip ahead to later in ‘99, and we began recording what became “House of Good Tires.” We laid down basic tracks for 13 songs and finished up the album by December. Unfortunately, a big problem loomed. Gable had started a relationship with a woman, and his world was severely changed. He began missing shows, cancelling them for reasons that sounded dubious at best. Now, I had funded the recording of “House of Good Tires’ with my own money and was paying myself back through our gig proceeds. When the shows had to be repeatedly cancelled, I became really irritated. Especially as I noted earlier, the reasons started seeming suspicious. After a “final straw” (for me, anyway) cancellation, I got the idea to ask Carson if he would come back for awhile, and we could look for a new guitarist in that period. Jeff agreed immediately. I called Carson, who happily agreed to come back for a bit. And then I called Gable…….who, I have to say, pretty much took over the phone conversation and fired himself; he knew he’d been failing us. And then, on to the next chapter….

We played some fun shows with Carson, I made my money back, and we were happy again. This is also the time when the song “Good Pipe,” was added...only an instrumental at this time, although Carson named the song. But we still had to find a new guitarist. It was Carson who suggested Bobby Landgraf. Jeff and I both knew Bobby, and he had engineered our version of “Beautiful Girls,” released on a split 7” with Iron Boss, featuring art from both Carson and Iron Boss’ Dave Waugh. I knew Bobby’s addition would probably radically change the sound of the band, but I loved Bobby’s stage persona too much to think about that issue much. I was in, and after trying out a couple of other guitarists to be sure, Jeff was in, too.

Bobby’s first recording with us was for the Aerosmith tribute record Small Stone Records put out in ‘99. We contributed “Adam’s Apple,” a favorite of Jeff’s. Then we set about what to do about “House of Good Tires.” It was decided to keep most of the album, Bobby re-recording the guitar tracks and adding some backing vocals. Gable had sung the original “House of Seven” and “Your Bottom,” so Jeff and I re-recorded those lead vocals, respectively (he and I had written those lyrics, anyway). We also dropped two songs, “Saline Mountains” (also on “Attacked by Lesbians”) and “The Lies You Told.” “Saline” was dropped because the music was largely Gable’s, with my lyrics, and “Lies” was dropped, because…..well….I was embarrassed by the lyrics, which I’d written after divorcing the wife I’d married for the second time when the band started. Or something like that.

And so, “House of Good Tires” was eventually released in early March of 2001.

I decided to leave in October of 2002, but due to the band’s hardship in finding a drummer, I continued to play with them until June of 2003. Kenny Wagner took over at that point. There were many reasons for this decision, and I won’t go into them here. It’s still the toughest decision regarding music I’ve ever had to make, but as time’s gone on, I’ve become convinced it was the right one. Maybe someday I’ll write about that time. It’s more serious.

(cough, wheeze, sniff, cough, etc.)

Despite having made a recent vow to write every day in this here blog, I missed the last two days (techically; it's after midnight). On the Friday night of SXSW, I started coming down with some sort of cold. It stayed at bay a bit for all of Saturday, which was nice, but by Sunday, I had it full blown. I feel a little bit better as of now, but we'll see what the morning brings. So, hopefully, I'll write something meaningful in 12 hours or so.

Until then....

Hickoids, Voodoo Doughnuts/04 Lounge, 3/17/2018

And so, it ends. This SXSW, anyway. But we went out with a bang. It was like this...

Originally, I had three gigs scheduled for Saturday, two with the Hickoids, and a sandwich-filling one with Pocket FishRmen playing with the Skatenigs at Rockfest. Very early Saturday morning, the word came through that the entire Rockfest show was cancelled. Apparently, Rockfest had not collected enough funds through the first days of SXSW to pay the bands, so the event was off. So, I was down to two Hickoids gigs, but man, were they fun ones.

Also, I came down with some sort of allergy cold Friday night, so I wasn't feeling my best. Personally speaking, I'm glad I didn't have the FishRmen gig. It was nice being able to rest between the two Hickoids shows. Phil of the Skatenigs is talking already about doing the same bill somewhere else at a later date. I'm all about that. And hopefully, it won't be anywhere near downtown.

So, here's the scoop: the Hickoids first gig was at Voodoo Doughnuts, which is on Sixth Street between Brazos and San Jacinto. In other words, hell during SXSW. I got down there about 1:15 (the trek wasn't too bad) and sauntered up to the parking payment kiosk. I expected $20 for half a day, or something like that. Nope. $30 for four hours. Wow. I walked a little funny for a few minutes after paying that. But at least I was only a block and a half from VD (buh-dom bish!).

The line-up at Voodoo Doughnuts was Count Vaseline, Hickoids, and Dinola. Dinola had ponied up their equipment for us to use, nicely enough. I guess they hauled it over from the same parking lot I was in, in a few trips or something. Jeez. I'd done my newly-discovered "pack stands and throne in suitcase" routine and had extra stuff to flesh out Jimmy's admirably lean drum kit. As I was setting everything up, Stefan (the Count) asked me if I'd play along with him, as he didn't have his electronics - he usually has a drum machine, etc. going. I said "sure!" and proceeded to play a full 40-minute set with him, mainly just keeping a beat. He'd lean over and say "Motown beat on this one," or "that 'Stand By Me' rhythm." It went surprisingly smoothly.

After a 15-minute or so setup break, the Hickoids started, and we delivered to the sometimes baffled doughnut shop patrons. Smitty really worked 'em, and I had the best vantage point in the house. It was hilarious. At various times, everybody (except me, of course) ended up outside, performing for the passersby.

I had parking paid through 5:25 and was determined to use up every penny of it, so I stayed to watch Dinola (and partake in a maple bar). Their songs have been growing on me steadily for some time now, and it's hard to leave one of their performances without singing "Vaporizer.....Vaporizer...." I bought a shirt.

Drove home and thought about hitting Indian Roller (I still have not been there) for Pure Luck but my growing congestion (i.e. general snottiness) dictated I needed to eat Vitamin C and take a nap. Which I somehow did. Michelle got off work at 9, came home, and we headed to 04 Lounge together. That worked out nicely!

We got to 04 Lounge in time to see Texas Bob Juarez, from San Antonio, who had James Flores playing drums. I did not know James was playing, so that was a very nice surprise indeed. James was playing the backline kit (another Rock n Roll Rentals kit; thanks, Chad!), but the kit wasn't situated on a rug. There was no rug in sight in 04 Lounge, and of course, I hadn't brought one. But I noticed that James had no problem with the kit, so I gambled that I wouldn't, either. The Texas Bob Juarez set was a bit loose, but James got to give it his all at times, and I really enjoyed that. He's an inspiration.

Dinola played next, Jimmy again using his kit instead of the one proffered by the event. And, of course, they rocked it, although we spent a lot of time outside with folks we knew who were hanging out.

And then, it was the Hickoids turn to close out the night. We started about midnight and played a pretty damned good set. We only duplicated one song from earlier ("Driftwood"), and yes, the drum kit didn't budge....well, once, but I think one leg ended up on Smitty's shirt for a bit. The kit was great overall.

Afterward, I could feel the old cold feeling coming over me, so I packed up while chatting with folks outside. Tim Swingle and I were talking about, well, whatever we were talking about ("heh, you remember when Mob played Liberty Lunch with.....," etc.), and I noticed a woman approaching us, and she stood near Tim for what must have been ten minutes. I thought she was waiting on Tim. But all of a sudden, she found a break in our blathering and walked over to me, saying "I just want you to know that I've been at the festival all week, and that you are the best musician I've seen playing." I thought she must be drunk, high, or maybe hadn't seen that much music this week, but what a compliment. That's one I'll take to the grave. She didn't tell me her name after I introduced myself, so lady, let me say "thank you very much!" Compliments like that keep us going!

I'm going to try to kick this cold now. After I unpack some gear. And I'll go back to writing about other topics soon. At least I think I will.

Three gigs today! Oh, wait......two gigs today!

So, last night, I took it easy, stayed home, did a little laundry, watched a movie, practiced drumming, etc. My usual Friday night when I'm gigless for the last couple of years or so. There were a few shows I was interested in, but most of them were by folks who play regularly around these parts. So, I stayed home. Plus, I was getting a bad sore throat and feeling a bit sickly (just how I woke up today).

Around 1 in the morning, technically today, Phil Owen posted on the Skatenigs Facebook event page that today's show is completely off. Pocket FishRmen have no gig today now. A post by Adam Brewer of Texas Rockfest on someone else's wall today confirmed that they just haven't had enough people through their gates to pay for the show today. In his initial post, Phil promised we'd do this bill somewhere sometime. So maybe it'll happen in the near future. I'm somewhat disappointed, largely because we tore the paint off the walls at Nomad Thursday night and was looking forward to a quick 30-minute onslaught with the FishRmen today. But....it's not to be. I still have two Hickoids gigs. Maybe, feeling the way I do, that's for the better.

The first gig is at Voodoo Doughnuts, on Sixth Street, where we played their grand opening a couple years back. The second gig is closing out the 04 Lounge tonight. Both gigs will be mostly backlined for drums, but I've packed my "contingency suitcase" anyway. About to head downtown, figure out where to park, and roll these suckers (my cymbals/snare combo, too) what might be many, many blocks. Still, I'll take that over the alternative. I hope Jimmy Ford can get the Dinola van down into VD territory to get gear out to play. We shall see! Complete report tomorrow!

As I mentioned, I'm feeling ill, so I'm ending this here. It's been a pleasure, folks. Write ya real soon now, ya see?

Pocket FishRmen, Nomad, 3/15/2018

Last night, Pocket FishRmen took the stage for the second time this SX, at Nomad in a nice line-up including Queue Queue, Suckling, and Dinola. For the record, this is maybe only the second time the FishRmen con moi have played two days in a row, the other time being a West Texas trip in 2013. And it showed last night. I'm going to say, while trying to keep a small sense of modesty and decorum, that we tore the roof off the place. Damn, it felt good to be in a band hitting on all cylinders like that!

The backline drum kit at Nomad was in great shape, stayed in place, everything. I used my own snare and stand, throne and added one cymbal stand. And, puzzlingly, as I was removing my top hi-hat cymbal from the clutch, I dropped the main part of the clutch and could not find it on stage. The sound man and I both looked for quite awhile (the next band didn't have drums, so we had some time). I left the sound man with a clutch of mine to get through today with that kit. Weird.

I didn't use the sampler or lights last night, and man, did that make a difference in setup time! Gotta get an assistant. We dropped "Pronounce" from the set list, as that really does need the sampler for the electronic drum sections. Kinda falls flat without it. The rest was fine. I imitated the other samples as need be; having this new headset mic facilitates that.

Today is a day of rest, as they say. I may go see something later, depending on how I feel. Actually, after three days in a row of it, I don't feel bad at all; yesterday, I was much droopier. The leg is cooperating. Maybe I'll head out later.....hmm.....

Gunny!

Just one more thought for the day, and something I'm been pondering for awhile.

In the big gun debate amid our current culture, I'm not hearing much, if anything, about the conditional phrase which begins the Second Amendment. Let's consider the full amendment:

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.

While it seems that that first comma might be a mistake grammatically (and was later removed in the version ratified by the states), the "well regulated Militia" part is interesting. I find that entire phrase to the second comma ignored in most Second Amendment discussions. Now, we know that a big intention of this amendment had to do with us liberating ourselves from England and remaining liberated. Not just from England but any other country or collective that wished to take us back over. So, I get why we should all have the right to be armed. But that "well regulated" part....isn't that what many of us want to achieve through Congress now? I admit, it's a tricky amendment to parse, especially in modern times, but I also think there might have just been some future-proofing in what our ancestors put down.

I've been thinking about this more, because the most recent episode of "Real Time with Bill Maher" contained a piece where Bill suggested a re-write of the Second Amendment. Being from Maher, it took a comical turn, but he took the concept seriously. I think the idea of re-writing our Constitution, especially the first ten amendments, is a dangerous one. Once you re-write one, you can introduce legislation to re-write any of them. And then we would be in trouble.

That's my gunny two cents for the day.

Pocket FishRmen, The Lost Well, 3/14/2018

Last night was the SX 2018 debut of Pocket FishRmen (for the record, I have three gigs with both bands, totalling six), at the Lost Well, a familiar dive for a lot of us. We were on a Saustex-created bill including We Are The Asteroid, Dinola, Sabbath Crow (who almost live at the Lost Well!), and Cannibal Bitch.  The show got under way at 9:00 and somehow ended before 2:00. Professionalism! Actually, Cannibal Bitch, a two-piece sludgefest, only played about 15-20 minutes. The Lost Well was debuting a new sound system, and fortuitously, we had the same sound man from the White Horse the night before!

Pocket FishRmen had drawn the 11:30 slot; I think we were on by 11:45 or so. Our set was pretty okay, at least by reaction it was. I played fine, but it was a real bitch setting everything up by myself. Brant is always a great help moving gear (Jason helps as well if he's free of his own setup), but getting everything up and running for PF is becoming more and more impossible, if I'm using everything for the show. By everything, I mean the drums, the sampler, the lights, a costume, etc. As a lot of drummers do, I set up offstage beforehand, so I can just put the pieces together on the stage. But the sampler, lights, etc. all need to be done after THAT is done. It takes a crazy amount of time. I need an assistant. Where can I find one?? Aaaahhh!!!

One major distraction last night was these new stage lights that were very bright, one being placed on each side of the stage on the drummer's sightline. So, yes, I was regularly blinded while playing. The sound man realized that; maybe some adjustments to those will be made for future folks. With all these issues, I didn't have a great time but like I said earlier, played okay. All the bands did well, but there was not a huge turnout for the show. I wonder if the whole SX thing isn't a bit watered down; even for "our" shows.

Until tomorrow!

Hickoids, White Horse, 3/13/2018

A show review....well, why not? I want to begin writing something every day in this blog, and this seems a good way to kick it off. Plus, I made a pact with someone last night that I would write at least a page every day. This might not equate to a page, but hey, it'll be a good start. And it's not a movie review.

So, the Hickoids first performance of SXSW last night was at the White Horse, a venue we play a few times a year. They have a mostly solid drum set for everybody to use, but over the years, pieces are beginning to be missing. As I always have to park at least a few blocks away, I decided to pack a suitcase with a couple of stands, drum throne, pedal, etc. and wheel that, along with my cymbal bag/snare drum combo behind me. It worked great. Might have to use that on Saturday, too, we'll see...

The bill was packed with heavy hitters from the start, kicking off with Eightball Aitken about 8:00. He was followed by the Differentials ("driving" as always [ha!]), Corinne Rose (Maria is such an inspiration), Texacala's new band (with Nathan Calhoun, Chelsea Taylor, and Frank Garymartin - solid as ever), Pure Luck (pure joy, more like), and us closing out the night. We finally started around 12:55, according to the clock by the side of the stage.

Cody had set up stage left for Pure Luck and stayed there. Rice set up next to him in his usual spot, putting Tom stage right. I don't know if it was that arrangement or what, but everything sounded sort of "off" to me all night. I still had a good time, played fairly well, but something just sounded weird on the stage - no fault of the sound man, I'm sure.

Here's a little evidence.

The set was a little cornfused as to what we normally play, for sure. One thing that's really starting to bother me is the big pauses between songs when Smitty tunes his guitar. Before he played guitar, he could keep the banter going and everything ran a little smoother, I think. I know Rice and I try to chatter a bit, and if Tom grabs the mic, he'll mutter incomprehensible offerings to the audience. But it really should be Smitty primarily, and he can't really do that and tune at the same time. Gotta work on that.

We did play "Corntaminated" (evidence above link). Smitty also fooled us into thinking we were about to play "Pennsylvania Mexican" but bailed out of it after his usual intro rap. His voice was a bit ragged, maybe he decided against it?

Still, I had fun. Looking forward to the Pocket FishRmen SX 18 debut tonight at the Lost Well. And more writing tomorrow!!

A Show, Health, etc.

Fun, if occasionally cranky, times last night. The Hickoids had the pleasure of playing right before the Dead Milkmen in San Antonio, and I write this several hours later. When we were put on the bill, I was surprised the Dead Milkmen were still playing, as they'd fallen off my radar many, many years ago. Turns out they reconstituted in 2008 (their original bassist commited suicide in 2004) and have played the odd festival or four-show run many times in recent years, even recording and releasing a couple of new albums in the 2010s. They played Austin the night before the San Antonio show, and both shows were packed to the gills. The San Antonio show was quite a sight, and it certainly provided the Hickoids with the largest crowd we've played for....maybe since I've been in the band. Michelle and I watched the DM from off stage left, which was as comfortable as could be, concerning the circumstances. I was pleasantly surprised at how many songs I remembered; I'll have to re-investigate their catalog.

I mentioned the word "cranky" right off the bat, as there were little annoyances that had more to with situation than anything else. The support bands' drummers all had to set up in front of Dean DM's drum set, which pinched things depth-wise a bit. I had a rack tom and cymbal stand arm in my back most of our set. Also, at some point during the beginning of "storytime" in "Stop It," both my right side cymbals had fallen onto my floor tom. I had no idea how it happened; after getting Tom's attention, he set them back up for me. Also, Jeff sometimes announces things cryptically, which for me is "I think I know what's next, but, uh...." He introduced a song as being dedicated to Davy, which used to always mean "Driftwood," but last night it meant "Nightlife." I was sitting there conducting tempo for "Driftwood," until I was finally informed what was really going on. Not the most precise show last night, but it was fun. We were cut off after "Truck." The stage manager started giving the me the cut-off sign right before we hit the bridge of that one. But the show HAD started late; I was surprised we made it as far as we did.

So, I'm a bit tired this morning. And achy. But not breaky. I was recently put back in physical therapy for whatever condition I'm going through at the moment. I'm having nerve issues in my right leg. Luckily, this time it has nothing to do with how my kick drum ankle is responding to my brain. That's all fine at the moment. But my right leg is in at least some pain all the time now. My therapist (same one as last time) has begun thinking it has nothing to with my back and everything to do with my hips and leg being muscularly tight. Whatever the case, I hope I have relief soon. This is slowly starting to drive me up the wall, and I think it's having some impact on my working relationships.

Let me back up a bit. In the summer of 2016, I started noticing some strangeness in my kick drum leg (right), in particular my ankle. No pain or tingling, but a loss of sensation. My usual playing includes some grace notes before actual full strikes on the kick drum. Think of it as a "ba-BUM, ba-BUM," instead of just "BUM, BUM." Well, I had stopped feeling the "ba"s. And this was especially affecting my Pocket FishRmen parts. When I quizzed Jason, the PF bassist, about it, he listened carefully, and said "no, you're hitting all the stuff you normally hit." But the problem was that without feeling it, I didn't really THINK I was doing it, and I started to lose confidence, and as a result of that, started clamming more (a nicer way of writing "fucking up"). In the Hickoids, this was not as much of a problem, but in Pocket FishRmen.....well, there were several songs I just didn't want to play.

I visited my doctor about it, and he suggested physical therapy, and I began going to ProMotion (and specifically therapist James) in early October - right before a Hickoids European tour. He worked on me and gave me exercises to do. After the tour, I continued the PT until sometime in January. I didn't notice much improvement, but, also in January, I bought a back inversion table. Sometime after that, I noticed an easing up of the symptoms, and the full feeling came back to my right ankle when playing. I really don't know if this was due to the months of PT, or the table, or both, but I'm glad that's working again. I can't really use the table much, although I still do from time to time, due to vertigo issues I often get when using it. Sometimes five minutes on the table will cause me many hours of nausea. But I still do it, at least occasionally.

Now, back to October of 2016. A bit after beginning PT for my back and right leg, I noticed a "waking up" of some nerves on the lower right side of my body. In particular, a nerve going down from my right hip into my right leg - I'm assuming, my sciatic nerve. It started as mild discomfort, but has grown over the last year and a half to be a constant pain in my lower right side. That's why I'm back in physical therapy now. Some days, it's painful to just walk somewhere; most of the time, that's not too bad. So James has been working on me again. I had an MRI a couple of weeks ago, and the results showed nothing that should impact my right side. As a matter of fact, I have a herniated disc touching a nerve on my left side, but I have no issues there. Strange. So, James has begun thinking that all this pain might just be my muscles being extremely tight. We'll see, I suppose. I'm glad I have insurance, but these co-pays are adding up! (After the MRI, my doctor referred me to a PA, who had no information to share. They put me on Gabapentin, which I don't think is really doing anything. I have an appointment with this same PA in a week or so, but I'm not sure I'll keep it. That's a more expensive co-pay.)

So, in a nutshell, I'm in pain, but I can play the drums effectively. If I had someone to move and set up my gear, I'd be fine. It's that part of the game that has me worried. I really need to find someone's 21-year-old kid to pay to help me. That would be the best solution!