The 30 or so people who came to watch us rock The Joint in L.A. were treated to one of the “greatest 25-minute piano rock performances this world has ever seen” – at least so says the drunk guy at table six. In some ways the night was a complete disaster – they had booked something like 52 bands for the evening (a slight exaggeration, but just barely). So my hour set quickly became a 45-minute set, which then soon evolved into a 25-minute set. According to Ken, the sound guy used the “random-level-method” of mixing us where my vocals were set at near ear-piercing levels and the rest of the band was a shade above mute. This accapella performance was made worse by the fact that the lighting guy decided to put a single spot on me the entire show (flattering I know – made me feel sexy) so that my L.A. band could barely see their own cheat sheets. We weren’t particularly tight, but the crowd was still responsive and appreciative of the effort. To top the night off, the stage was set at a sweltering 246 degrees – I was so covered in sweat after my 5th song that I felt I’d just completed the 13th mile of the Boston Marathon. That was my night in a nutshell.
In other ways, the evening was a success. We broke into the L.A. market and we had a good crowd response in a city where the spectators believe you suck until you can prove to them you don’t. These fickle L.A. fans are the same ones that show up to Dodger games in the 3rd inning and leave the game in the 6th inning. The band was adequate, in spite of short notice – Marcello was steady and consistent on bass, the drummer Jeff and I played well off each other, and I assume Joe was on with guitars (though I really couldn’t hear him at all thanks to the ‘stellar’ sound).
After we got off stage, the night took a turn for the weird when some guy (who later turned out to be a Venice street performer – you know, that guy that paints himself gold and dances like a robot when you give him money) went up and did one and half bizaare songs, the last of which was a half-sung, half-yelled vocal solo of “We Will Rock You!” About 1/2 way through the song I guess he decided he was out of his element because he simply stopped and walked off stage.
The night ended with Ken and I taking a trip to Wendy’s, only to find that they wouldn’t allow us to walk up to the window and order – “safety hazard” they said. They ‘sort of’ compromised (see video) when I informed them I was a big star and I HAD to have my Wendy’s, AND that the “31-foot tour bus doesn’t fit next to their drive-up window.” The manager demanded to see the tour bus first so that they would know I wasn’t lying. I guess I was kind of cranky, but in the end we got us some Wendy’s at 2 AM so the night ended exactly how I hoped.
Watch the after show video of our Wendy’s adventure:
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eULSUdrwLM]
The 30 or so people who came to watch us rock The Joint in L.A. were treated to one of the “greatest 25-minute piano rock performances this world has ever seen” – at least so says the drunk guy at table six. In some ways the night was a complete disaster – they had booked something like 52 bands for the evening (a slight exaggeration, but just barely). So my hour set quickly became a 45-minute set, which then soon evolved into a 25-minute set. According to Ken, the sound guy used the “random-level-method” of mixing us where my vocals were set at near ear-piercing levels and the rest of the band was a shade above mute. This accapella performance was made worse by the fact that the lighting guy decided to put a single spot on me the entire show (flattering I know – made me feel sexy) so that my L.A. band could barely see their own cheat sheets. We weren’t particularly tight, but the crowd was still responsive and appreciative of the effort. To top the night off, the stage was set at a sweltering 246 degrees – I was so covered in sweat after my 5th song that I felt I’d just completed the 13th mile of the Boston Marathon. That was my night in a nutshell.
In other ways, the evening was a success. We broke into the L.A. market and we had a good crowd response in a city where the spectators believe you suck until you can prove to them you don’t. These fickle L.A. fans are the same ones that show up to Dodger games in the 3rd inning and leave the game in the 6th inning. The band was adequate, in spite of short notice – Marcello was steady and consistent on bass, the drummer Jeff and I played well off each other, and I assume Joe was on with guitars (though I really couldn’t hear him at all thanks to the ‘stellar’ sound).
After we got off stage, the night took a turn for the weird when some guy (who later turned out to be a Venice street performer – you know, that guy that paints himself gold and dances like a robot when you give him money) went up and did one and half bizaare songs, the last of which was a half-sung, half-yelled vocal solo of “We Will Rock You!” About 1/2 way through the song I guess he decided he was out of his element because he simply stopped and walked off stage.
The night ended with Ken and I taking a trip to Wendy’s, only to find that they wouldn’t allow us to walk up to the window and order – “safety hazard” they said. They ‘sort of’ compromised (see video) when I informed them I was a big star and I HAD to have my Wendy’s, AND that the “31-foot tour bus doesn’t fit next to their drive-up window.” The manager demanded to see the tour bus first so that they would know I wasn’t lying. I guess I was kind of cranky, but in the end we got us some Wendy’s at 2 AM so the night ended exactly how I hoped.
Watch the after show video of our Wendy’s adventure:
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eULSUdrwLM] 