This is my latest article for the Good Stuff Guitars newsletter.

   I’m going to do something I don’t usually do; get cranky.

   Generally, is something ticks me off, I’ll let it sit, and when I do finally write about it, try to find a funny, gentle way of approaching it. Well, no more Mister Nice Guy. People need to be taught a lesson.

   Here’s what’s been bugging me a lot lately; there is a HUGE difference between “Playing Music”, and “Being a Musician”. Face it, we live in “The age of the Hobbyist” now. Everyone is in a band, or goes to Jam Nights, or does whatever else is involved with dusting off that old Strat or buying a new one. More people now are playing music than at any time in the known history of mankind.

   Okay, I made that up, but it’s probably really, really true, what with population and all.

   So if you’re in that category, and wondering where you stand on the Big-Time Musician scale, answer this; how good are you at listening? Not listening to music in general, but listening to other players while you are playing? Are you so involved and intent on what you’re doing that you’re missing the forest for the trees?

   If you’re playing with others, and when someone’s soloing, you can’t hear them, FAIL. Can you hear the lyrics while you play? If not; EPIC FAIL. “That’s not fair, Kennan, “ I hear you say, “It’s not me that’s too loud; it’s the other guy!” Well, don’t worry. There’s enough FAIL to go around. Think about what a song is; is it a drum solo with some guitars sprinkled in? Maybe it’s a ham-fisted rhythm guitar part? A room full of monkeys is never going to write Shakespeare, or play “I Got My Mojo Workin’”.

   A Band, whether it’s made up of long-time veterans or just thrown together at Jam Night, works as a unit. Your reputation is tied to the weakest link you share the stage with. How you deal with that is how people will judge you. Emphasis; how you deal with that is how people will judge you. A gentle hand signal is usually all it takes, even if you have to stamp your feet and yell to get someone’s attention to do it.

   I’ve written before about how Dynamics are the last thing any band learns, and really separates the good from the ghastly. For a band to have dynamics, you have to be able to listen to each other, and to the song. Otherwise why not just stay home and play Guitar Hero.

   Here’s the secret Musicians know; when you listen, then you start to react to what other people are playing, then the music isn’t dictated by pre-conceived boundaries, and takes on a life of its own. I can still remember the first time I played a fill locked into a drummer, completely off the top of our heads, together. That was the drug that keeps me coming back. That was magic. That was the day I felt like a Musician, and not just a guy playing music. That’s what I want to be, and that’s who I want to play with. The rest of you; get off my lawn.

   Next time; Self criticism. Because if you don’t everyone else will.

    After the better part of the day at SIR Studios, listening to a few fabulous bassists, and a whole bunch of guys who sounded like they plugged in, turned way up, then threw the bass down a stairwell, I cut out early. I bailed. Even the good players were getting lost in the wash of “a-thumpin’ and a-pluckin’” by the afternoon.

    I felt sorry for my host for the weekend, Bobby Vega; he was there demonstrating the new EMG X pickups, amidst all the noise, from 10AM to 6PM, and then had the concert that night. I felt bad leaving him there alone (”Save yourself!”), but his son Rocco and I left with his blessing to get some rest.

    The concert that night at the Key Club was the feature that really got Bobby to come down. Rocco Prestia, bassist for Tower of Power, would be presented with a Lifetime Achievement Award by Bass Player Magazine, with Bobby doing the presentation. Upright Jazz Giant Charlie Hayden was being similarly honored, and a large concert/jam session was slated to ensue!

    Francis Rocco Prestia has had a huge influence on the way people approach playing funky, groove-heavy bass for years. His single note approach is all about timing and movement, and while he’s often imitated, his technique is singular and far more awe-inspiring than even he knows. Tunes like “What Is Hip”, "You Got To Funkifize" and "You're Still A Young Man" redefined funk bass. Presenting the award was a huge deal for Bobby; when Rocco received a Liver Transplant a few years ago, it was Bobby who covered the gigs for what has to be the most famous “Bass Chair” in music today!
(For more on the story, read my BV interview http://kennanshaw.com/bobbyvega.cfm)

    When it was time for the ceremony, Bobby talked about how Rocco’s playing with TOP always inspired him to play bass, about how “Rocco put the ‘Power’ in ‘Tower’!” He talked about going to see Rocco, and telling him about naming his own son Rocco after the bassist, and how Rocco said “That’s nice Bobby, but if you really fuckin’ meant it, you’da named him Francis.” Bobby brought his now 13 year old son Rocco out to help with the presentation. It was perfect, and you could see how touched and surprised Rocco Prestia was by the whole thing. The ovation was long and loud.

    Meanwhile, I was working on my whole “fly on the wall” approach to hanging out backstage. Here again Bobby was the gracious host and introduced me to everyone he knew, from all the members of Tower that were there, to the myriad of famous influential bassists attending the show.

    Leland Sklar, who played with James Taylor, Lyle Lovitt and so many others that it would be easier to list who he hasn’t played with over the years, was just hanging out. I watched him a lot, because he’s got the whole ‘Elder Stateman/Coolest Guy’ vibe going. He complimented Bobby’s presentation, greeted Rocco warmly, shook hands, shared smiles and laughs, and reminded me of the shots of Willie Mays at the All Star Game, surrounded by younger players hoping just a little of his magic would rub off on them. The man played for Barbie Benson, for God’s sake!

    I was sitting with Rocco Vega waiting for our food when Dave Girabaldi, drummer for Tower sat down behind me and started his warm up exercises on his practice pad, with big ol’ Marching Band sticks. That was pretty fascinating on its own, but when Tal Wilkenfeld, the young female bass playing phenom from Jeff Beck’s band sat down and the two started talking about drumming, I figured I was, right at that moment, in the middle of the strongest Bass Player Fantasy you could possibly put together.

    Steve Bailey (six string fretless bass super clinician) was eating a chicken sandwich a couple tables away. Various members of Tower of Power were sprinkled around the room, and singer Larry Braggs had started laughing when he first saw Bobby, and now the two of them were holding court in a booth in the corner. Relocated Brit Fusion ace Rufus Philpot was trying to get something at the bar, and when Stu Hamm (Satriani, Steve Vai, first choice of Shred Guitarists everywhere) made a crack about Rufus being “Australian”, he kind of froze, reloaded, and in his so-very-British manner said “You’re joking, right?” Jazz chart topper (oxymoron?) Brian Bromberg stood at the bar talking to Leland Sklar, while Sekou Bunch played through the T.C. Electronics Staccato Rocco Prestia Stack against the wall. Bakithi swept through, smiling and laughing as always, and many bassists of great note passed through, some stopping, some just moving through.

    The concert itself was amazing. Charlie Haden did a set of straight up jazz with a pianist. That was followed by Juan Aldretti of The Mars Volta, and his latest side band. Talk about “And now for something completely different”.

    Then, following the presentation of Rocco’s award, we got a kind of Career Retrospective from the rhythm section – drums, guitar and keyboards – and a two man horn section from Tower of Power, with vocals. It was the best of the Rocco tunes, ending with “What Is Hip” with an extended Rocco solo. Those guys are amazing.

    The rhythm section stayed up for the madhouse jam that followed, as Bobby, Tal Wilkenfeld, Rufus Philpot, James Earl, Stu Hamm, and Steve Bailey ( I know I’m forgetting someone…) took the stage for a thunderous take on the TOP song “Squib Cakes”. The stage looked like a bassists dream music store; everyone on stage had their own stack of amps, and they ran from one side to the other, like some strange Cityscape. Tal, who is about five feet tall, had the biggest stack. If she was a guy, the words “over compensation” might come into play.

    Let me stop, and talk about Tal, because every bass player I know, upon finding out that I was going to this, wanted to talk about Tal. She has taken the bass world by storm the last couple of years, and is definitely is as close to a ‘bass superstar’ as there is, especially with the release of the “Jeff beck Live at Rionnie Scott’s” DVD. She’s a 23 year old Aussie immigrant who’s cute as a bunny and plays bass like she was born unto it. So everyone wants to know about Tal. So here’s my problem; up close and personal, she’s a very young girl who should sit up straight and spit out the gum, and probably wash her hair once in a while.

    That’s right; she is something short of a Goddess, and I am terminally…a dad. I’m not sure which one is more upsetting. *Sigh*.

    Have you ever heard about eight bass players all playing at once? Even if you assemble some of the best in the world, there’s a reason bands can have multiple guitarists, a couple of keyboards, and even the rare “double drummer” set up, but always only one bass. “Squib Cakes” started off sounding like an avalanche, but the bassists quickly backed off, found a little niche to play in or just laid out. Steve Bailey was acting as “player coach” (guess who’s amp was loudest?), and would introduce different players to solo. Stu Hamm played T.V. theme songs on his Washburn Signature acoustic, but generally looked like he had a date with Hotel Room pending. Tal started slow and then exploded. Bobby – who was having equipment issues with his signal chain (stupid cable), launched into a solo that had everyone grooving. His son Rocco noticed that “everybody started playing when you played!” It was cacophonous and beautiful.

    After that, everyone was pretty ready for some rest. There was more to come; Brian Bromberg and Steve Bailey were going to play, and Verdine White from Earth Wind and Fire was looking for a four string bass to borrow (memo to self; people would be more inclined to lend you a bass if you aren’t wearing a ton of rhinestone and silver jewelry), but we caught a cab back to our hotel.

    I got picked up on Sunset by buddies Audrey and Carol for a quick trip to Barney’s Beanery for drinks and talking about how everyone looked 12 years old. They had just seen Echo and the Bunnymen. We laughed a bunch.

    The next day was back to SIR for more of Bass Player Live! I took many breaks outside the building. The sonic assault, even with ear plugs, just gets to you after a while. It gets hard to recognize things that sound good, when there is so much ‘sound’ involved. At one point, a guy had brought an upright out to the parking lot, and was just playing a 12 bar blues, nice and easy, and everyone around kind of went “…ahhhh…”. It can be hard to see it, but too much of anything is too much.

    Having said that, I would recommend Bass Player Live to every single bassist I know, regardless of your level or experience. The manufacturers are all there showing off their best and newest junk, and all the players are there, and accessible and for the most part, really friendly people. I know a lot of people want to go to NAMM, the music merchandiser’s trade show that’s in Anaheim every January for these same reasons, but BPL is waaayyy better, and I’ll tell you why; you don’t have to wade through a ton of stuff you don’t want to find the gems; at BPL it’s all gems. Even if you don’t have the kind of access I was bestowed by my hosts, even if you go for one day and take it in, you’ll love it.

    I want to thank “The Two Scott’s” from EMG. Those guys know there stuff, and seemed to have a good time. Very funny. Thanks to Mike Vernon for the hang. And a big fat special ‘thank you’ to Bobby and Rocco Vega, for sharing the whole thing with me. They made me feel like family, and shared insights, hopes, and jokes freely.


    Okay; party’s over. Back to work. Anybody got any gigs?

    I’ve been staring at the computer screen trying to figure out how to start writing about Bass Player Live, last weekend in Los Angeles. In trying to come up with a good “hook” for an intro, I’m trying to put a label on what exactly the whole thing was. The problem is, it wasn’t any one thing; it was inspiring, humbling, exasperating, exciting, ridiculous, revealing, and grueling, all at once, within any five minute time span. Most of all, it was a lot of fun, so I guess the safe way to go is to try to impart that, while giving you a taste of all the other things, too.

    First of all, how often do you get to spend that much time with someone who you admire and learn from? The whole trip was courtesy of Bobby Vega, and the chance to hang out, talk to him, and watch how he went about his business was invaluable. Right off the top, I can’t thank him enough for the experience.

    The event took place at SIR Studios in Hollywood. SIR is a large rehearsal and equipment rental facility right on Sunset Strip. The rooms were full of manufacturers showing off their latest gear and their latest endorsers. Bobby was there on behalf of EMG Pickups, and was showcasing the “X” pickups he helped develop. He was also there at the behest of Bass Player Magazine to present Tower of Power bassist Rocco Prestia a Lifetime Achievement Award.

    Rather than try to tell the story chronologically, which could take hours to read, I want to present it as little snapshots, to give you an idea of how the weekend went. Things were always changing, someone coming in, something going on over here, someone playing this, people pushing that – sensory overload in a low register. Life imitating quick-cut marketing. If you’re not a bass player, I’ll try to explain some things as I go, if you are, be patient with me!

    In the ever-crowded Ernie Ball Music Man/Markbass room, a Round Table discussion features EBMM Prez Sterling Ball, bass heavyweights Dave Marotta, Juan Nelson, Stan Seargeant, and Tony Levin, long time Peter Gabriel/King Crimson/everyone bassist. Tony Levin has the best line of the show, in answer to “What are you currently up to?” Tony said “I’m busy. Busy is the new ‘rich’.” Sterling talked so passionately about running the company and how certain bass designs came about that I was about ready to enlist.

    Canadian fusion giant Alain Caron played in the same room. As good as he is on that six string fretless F Bass, and he is very good, the groove didn’t kick in until the drummer came in. Sometimes ‘Funky’ is more than a one-man job.

    Bakithi Kumalo, who played bass on Paul Simon’s “Graceland”, amongst other things, is not very tall, but is about 75% Smile. If anyone had a better time than me this weekend, it was him. Always smiling, laughing, and playing. He bounces around the room the way his bass lines bounce right through the speakers. On Sunday, when Phil Chen showed up at the show, the two of them were hilarious to watch, leaning their heads together and laughing riotously at whatever private moment they shared. Phil Chen, who played Jeff Beck’s “Freeway Jam” and Rod Stewart’s “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy”, not to mention that’s him playing the bass solo on “Hot Legs”, is actually from Jamaica, so listening to the African bass player talk to the Chinese bassist from Jamaica was music in and of itself.

    After about a half day of listening to bassists strut and preen in front of each other, Stu Hamm poked his head in to say ‘hi’ to Bobby and said “They should have called this ‘Mid-Range Player Live’.”

    Chris Chaney (Jane’s Addiction, Alanis Morisette) bounding up to say hello to Tony Franklin (Bad Company, The Firm).

    Norwood Fisher’s (Fishbone) 10:30AM clinic; “I’ve never really done this kind of thing. I should be out surfing, y’all.” He was funny, personable, and even though he forgot parts of songs, he was revealing about where “this stuff” comes from, and how he came up with different techniques and ideas. Asked why he hangs his bass so low, he explained that there were two reasons; reason number one, all the coolest guys on Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert and Midnight Special hung their guitars low. The second reason was that when he was starting, he had a bass book that said to ‘adjust your strap so that you’re at your most comfortable, and he figured there wasn’t anything more comfortable than just letting your arms hang! He then spent all of Sunday hanging at the Warwick booth.

    Speaking of booths, there was a lot of ‘Bass Porn’ on display (non bassists, bear with me!). Bobby and the EMG X’s were a big hit, and a lot of players came by to check out him demoing them. The JA-X’s were particularly popular.

    Aguilar debuted the new 751 Bass head, the replacement for the popular 750. They’ve redone the design and mid-range structure, and the price is actually less than the 750’s. This could mean there will be a lot of 750’s on the used market, too (Dominic)!

    Sekou Bunch was all over the place getting people to try the new Carvin SB400 bass. Good reviews all around for the jazz-like, Alnico equipped bass, and Sekou was the perfect Ambassador, with a quick smile and easy laugh. He was always playing something, somewhere.

    The new “Classic Collection” Stingrays were on display at the Ernie Ball booth, featuring cool colors like Seafoam Green, Shell Pink, and Vintage White, and sporting 2-band EQ’a and thumbscrew bridge mutes, like the original Stingrays. Sterling said the original mutes were discontinued years ago under threat of lawsuit by someone who apparently cut themselves on the metal edges. He brought them back now because “I’ve got better insurance.”

    I was a fly on the wall for a conversation between Michael Tobias and Bobby about tone, strings, and all things bass, and it was fascinating to hear a guy so up on his craft talk about his own stuff. He had a beautiful bass set up with LaBella Black Tape strings, and I’ve never heard those strings sound more musical.

    Other manufacturers with cool stuff were Alleva-Coppolo Basses, T.C. Electronics, King Doublebass, Spector, D’Addario Strings, Fender, and many more.

    To illustrate the whole “drummer/Bassist dynamic, I ‘Facebooked’ the fact that John Ferraro was drumming in the Ernie Ball room, and got three text messages from bass players to tell him “Hi”. Well, two ‘hi’ messages and one that said to “kiss his bald head for me”. I passed along the ‘hellos’!

    Mikey Vernon was there helping out with the Spector booth and lending a hand setting up EMG’s stuff. Mikey is one of those invaluable guys who the general public never knows about, but he’s actually the one who makes things ‘go’. He’s a long-time Bass tech for touring bands, and is what I call a “GSD Guy”. He “Gets Shit Done”. Plus he was a great hang all weekend. In the bass world, if you need shit done, check him out; http://totalmetalgear.tech.officelive.com

    In the next installment, I’ll tell you about the concert and awards ceremony! Backstage at the Key Club was really Bass Player Heaven! I’ll also get to some overall thoughts, and why if you’re a bass player, you need to attend one of these beasts, and if you do, how not to lose your mind (if that's possible).

   I’ll tell you a little secret;

   I think I’m a pretty good bass player. In fact, I think I’m damn good. There are times that I get just enough warm up time, and the tone and volume are just right, and I feel like anything I try is going to work. Crazy stuff, too. On top of that, my groove is good, too. And I understand how songs work, and how the bass works within a band. I’m at the top of my game!

   So naturally, it’s time for a beat down.

   In 2006 I attended the School of Bass in Arizona. I had come off about 8 months of touring the world, and thought I was the King of the Bass. Being around all the instructors and clinicians adjusted my attitude in about ten minutes. I saw things that had me questioning whether I was actually even playing the same instrument as the faculty that was assembled for that event.

   I’m expecting the same experience this weekend at Bass Player Live in Los Angeles. I’ll be there as a guest of Bobby Vega, who will be promoting the new EMG X pickups, presenting Tower of Power’s Rocco Prestia with a Lifetime Achievement Award, and just generally being an amazing guy. Bobby called me and thanked me for my recent interview, and said he felt that things were really taking off for him and was grateful for my efforts.

   Yeah. My efforts to hang around my favorite bass player and soak up pointers and playing tips! That was hard! (Read my interview with Bobby here; http://kennanshaw.com/bobbyvega.cfm)

   So I’ll be rubbing shoulders with a ton of great players, manufacturers, and general practitioners of the bass this weekend. Notes will be taken, information will be absorbed, hands will be shook, business cards will be exchanged, and in the end, many, many things will be written!

   By Monday, at the Good stuff Guitars Blues Jam at Armando’s, I probably won’t be feeling like the awesome bassist I am right now, but I’ll have a little better idea of how to get there.

   Shockingly, it seems I’ve developed something of a reputation when it comes to…the “R” word. Okay, so I may have written some disparaging things about Rehearsals. I admit, I’m not the biggest fan. There are times and circumstances where taking an “Art is fleeting” approach to music is more exciting.

   There are times, however, when a little rehearsal can be called for. Thursday is the debut premiere grand opening show for KT & the Wicked Gents. This is a band made up of some hardened professionals. We could easily walk in, and play right out of the box. “Do you know this song?” “What key?” and BLAM! We’d all like this to be a more than a ‘pick up’ band, so when the first gig was booked, we scheduled in two rehearsals. We’re not reinventing the wheel here, we just want to be able to try some different things; put a different beat on a familiar tune, maybe stretch some passages out for solos…fun musician-type junk!

   The first rehearsal, a couple of weeks ago, it was the first time we were all together. It was a warm night in Benicia, so we left some doors open, and after about an hour, the Police showed up. It was like I was sixteen again, in Jamie Riddick’s garage! So our first rehearsal became a “band meeting”.

   The Cop actually said “Are you a band?” Nope. Podiatrists. Go figure.

   Last night we had our second rehearsal, this time with doors closed. Smokin’! Working our way through arrangements, going over transitions from solo to bridge, and from rumba to swing, ‘jazzing up’ old favorites…having a great time, when all of a sudden; POP; power goes out. Pitch black.

   First thought; blew a fuse. Second thought; somebody cut the power. Third thought; I am not getting out of here without tripping over everything.

   A peek out the window confirmed that the whole neighborhood was dark. Weird. No storm, not really windy, just a power outage. A little walk down the street, and it became apparent that the whole city of Benicia was dark! From the hill, you could see the lights of Vallejo, Port Costa and Crockett, but Benicia was blacked out. Once again, rehearsal became “band meeting” as we went over what would be our Set List. Some things had to be dropped. Without playing them, we don’t want to try to play them. Not much though; like I said – professionals.

   As I made my way out of Benicia, the lights of the city came back on. Flat out conspiracy against us. Damn you, Benicia! Some people are sensitive to the concept of ‘omens’, and would say that KT & the Wicked Gents should be mindful of whether there’s an overabundance of Bad Mojo, but I have seen Bad Mojo (someday I’ll tell you a story of death, heartbreak, and madness, all on a ‘first gig’), and I’m pretty sure we’re okay.

   Just in case, though, come out and help us with our Karma! Hey, just because I say ‘I think we’re okay’ doesn’t mean I ignore this stuff!

KT & the Wicked Gents
Armando’s
Thursday, October 8th, 8 to 10PM
707 Marina Vista, Martinez

   How many bands have I played with this year? An unofficial count comes out to 23. Twenty-Three different bands just this calendar year! A lot were one-offs, sub gigs that I did one or two shows. Some were put together for a specific show. A couple were bands I was, or am, a ‘member’ of, but actually joining a band is a rarer thing for me.

   Twenty three. It’s a good number. Twenty Four, on the other hand, is a great number. Willie Mays wore 24. Twenty Four has a lot of symmetry to it. Two dozen. Six times four. Two feet equals twenty four inches. Endless possibilities with 24.

   All of which is why I’m happy to announce a brand new band; KT & the Wicked Gents. I haven’t talked about this band at all, because I wanted to make sure it was happening. I didn’t want to start talking it up, and then have nothing going on! “Yeah, we’re excellent! When we start gigging, it will take the world by storm, dude!”

   KT & the Wicked Gents is a lot more than a lip service band. KT stands for Kathy Trejcka (rhymes with ‘Fresca’), the excellent keyboardist and vocalist from Johnny Nitro’s band. The guitar section features the incomparable Kelly Back, my partner in crime from the now defunct Wingnut Adams band and the occasional Miko Marks gig. Also featured on guitar is Nick Montes. Remember when the 49ers had Joe Montana and Steve Young? It’s like that, but on guitar. Jan Jackson plays drums, and brings his own take on the ‘Soul Stew’. I playing bass, like you didn’t know.

   This is a band of serious professionals dedicated to “playing” music. I’ll tell you a secret; we’ve only played together once, as I write this. A couple of hours, and we had A.) a huge initial songlist to work from, B.) some crazy, funky arrangements of some veritable R&B standards, and C.) one visit from the Police. Here’s the ‘pull-quote’;

“A volatile mix of old and new. The sonic equivalent of showing up at your High School reunion in a ’59 Caddie convertible with mags and a flame paint job!”

   Okay, I just made that up, and I don’t really know what it means but it sounds cool. And it’s a better line than “I don’t know what it means, but it sounds cool!”

   KT & the Wicked Gents is a throwback in another way; we actually booked gigs before setting up a MySpace, Facebook, Twitter account, and all the other social network things. We don’t have a CD to sell. As of right now, we’re “just” a band! How quaint! How positively “1975” of us!

   So, as of now, there’s only one way to get a dose of what we’re giving out; come see our debut show! Be the first on your block! You’ll be the guy (or gal) saying “I saw their first show! Now they’re bigger than…than…I dunno…the DMV!” Here’s the info;

KT & the Wicked Gents
The Grand Premiere Debut!
Thursday October 8th, 8 to 10PM
Armando’s
707 Marina Vista, Martinez

   Think about it; our first show. We don’t even know what’s going to happen! I do know this, though; with these guys, it will be awesome. And you’ll be home by 10:30! Why would you think of missing it?

http://www.myspace.com/kathytejcka
http://www.armandosmartinez.com

   I go to New Orleans a lot. It’s what my Mom calls “My Happy Place”. Subsequently, I write about New Orleans a lot. Go with what you know, right? So I figured, having just gotten back from another lovely trip, I’d better do my travelogue, but I don’t want to get all ‘rhapsodizing’ this time. More ‘Just the facts’.

   Our place is uptown, a block from St. Charles Avenue, with its picturesque Oaks and the iconic Street Cars rumbling along, just across from the Garden District. The trees and power lines are still festooned with Mardi Gras Beads from March…

   Sorry. ‘Festooned’ is definitely a rhapsodizing word.

   Anyway, Thursday morning we made our way down to Magazine Street, and found coffee and free wi-fi at Community Coffee. This became a ritual right away, and a good ‘jumping off point’ for our daily adventures.

   Another thing that marked this trip was free eats. We enjoyed gifted meals at the Palace Café, thanks to the Sevilla’s. The Palace has an Old school N’awlin’s feel, and to have lunch there is to be surrounded with the cities working business men and women. The service is elegant, the surroundings refined, and the food is wonderful. I described my Pecan Pie as having the ability to “drive lesser men to suicide, because life would hold nothing but disappointment from now on.”

   That was not rhapsodizing. I was just quoting an earlier rhapsodic description.

   We also had a fabulous meal at Emiril’s Delmonico, courtesy of Tim and Patty Onorato . Swanky joint, but the staff had a refreshingly casual feel to the service. The food was good, and the evening felt leisurely and fun. I got the feeling that when you put Emiril’s name on a joint, you attract a certain clientele, and raise expectations fairly high. One man across the room got mad and said “I’ve gotten better service at Olive Garden!” I don’t know what he was so mad about, but the slower, lingering over your meal service pace may have thrown off someone who’s more accustomed to…well, Olive Garden.

   Also, beignets were eaten (and powdered sugar spilled), the Blackened Gator Bites at Ralph & Kackoo’s are still outstanding, as is the crawfish etouffee. Y’know; the staples.

   Musically, it was a special trip. Thursday night, Eric Lindell was playing a free concert in Lafayette Square. I haven’t seen Eric for a while. He just came through the Bay Area a couple of weeks ago, but I was in Vancouver, and the number I had for him wasn’t any good. Eric’s really, really good. Great singer, great songwriter, and everything’s is so smooth and funky. He sounded great, and I got a chance to say ‘howdy’ and reconnect a little.

   Friday night my “Internet Bassist Forum” buddy Peter Fuller had a blues gig at a little neighborhood bar out on the Jefferson Highway, and invited me to come sit in. The band threw solos at me on the first three songs. I’m pretty sure I used up all the notes there were to play. “Doctor Bob”, notable Fender bass collector was there, with a fabulous 7 pound ’59 P-Bass. Drooled on that a little.

   Saturday night, I had a gig with Sweet Jones at Checkpoint Charlie’s on Esplanade! Some of you may remember them from the story about Jon, my friend in Holland, emailing me that a guy from New Orleans on his Tele Forum needed a rhythm section in San Jose. Matt and Melissa are the sweetest people you could meet, and they gave me the gig right away when I said I was coming to town. So I had my rig thanks to Peter lending me all kinds of stuff, and I had a great time! Matt is a hell of a guitarist.

   So in the last couple of months I’ve had the pleasure of going to Nashville to play country, and going to New Orleans to play blues. The fact that I represented myself very well in both settings is kind of an ego boost.

   Sunday was all about Mark Johnson, my guitar slinging buddy who quit California temperate climes to become the best guitarist in Hammond. The adjustment has had its rocky patches, but I tried to encourage Mark to see the big picture; you’re playing guitar five nights a week, and you’re considered something of a celebrity. Beats working construction! We had a great time running around the Quarter with Mark and his friend Katie, who was pretty funny too, so she fit right in.

   Bourbon Street; ever been? If you have you’ll understand what I’m about to say; Bourbon Street is where music goes to die. That may seem strange in a Mecca like New Orleans, but when the sun goes down, all the bad, soul-sucking ‘classic rock’ bands take over and the street is awash in “Sweet Home Alabama” and “Play That Funky Music Whiteboy”. Sure, it’s also got strippers. A lot of strippers, in fact. But if you want to hear music, head out of the Quarter, across Esplanade into the Marigny Triangle, and go down Frenchmen Street. Tons of clubs playing the music you came to New Orleans for.

   Coming home is always hard. Closing up the condo, and taking the shuttle to the airport, just to make your way through security just seems so depressing. So imagine my surprise when, as we stood in line to board our flight, the gate agent came over and asked if I could do him a favor by jumping to the front of the line, and boarding first “so you can get your guitar situated”. He moved Cindy and I to the front of the line BECAUSE I had a bass guitar! I don’t know if it was a Southwest thing, that certain gate agent, or maybe just a New Orleans thing. Probably a combination of all three, because I don’t see it happening anywhere else. Just New Orleans.

    Sunday morning, bright and early, breakfast at the hotel, then on the road we go. All together, we number nine. There’s me, Terri and Suze; the “Sisters”, Ronnie on drums, Robert on tenor, Mike Tooley on trombone, and Jay Thomas on – get this – alto sax and trumpet. Rounding out the caravan are Mike and Jay’s wives. All together, four vehicles, three GPS units, four horns for three horn players, and a couple of fishing poles thrown in just for good measure. Quite the caravan.

    Saying “we made our way across the Trans Canada Highway” sounds pretty straight forward. “Trans Canada Highway” would seem to imply a big, multi-lane ribbon of concrete hewn from the very rocks of the mountains themselves, but any quick glance at a map will show a long, winding road through beautiful mountains and forest. A little Northeast, a little Southeast, repeat for a couple hundred miles, jump on Highway 97, and head South for Lake Osoyoos and the U.S. – Canadian border.

    One last border crossing, this time from Canada back to the States. Pretty much just a ‘drive through’. The officer, who was wearing shorts (‘Casual Sunday’ for border guards?), did ask us if any of us had ever been arrested. Umm, yeah. Why? Are you going to deny us entrance to our home country because of some dusty offences? Why ask when you’ve got our entire records there on the screen in front of you?

    Not that we asked. Border Guards are chosen, and famous for being unencumbered by a sense of humor. So it’s best to smile, be polite, answer all the questions, and take nothing personally.

    The Rendezvous R&B Festival is held in a huge Apple Orchard right on the shore of Lake Osoyoos. It’s not a giant festival, but it’s been going on for a while. People camp in the orchard for the whole weekend, and come out to listen to music, dance, and party. We were right in the middle of Sunday’s bill, third of five bands. We caught the end of Alice Stuart’s solo set, and watched the Stacey Jones Band. Unfortunately, we also watched some huge, dark clouds rolling towards the lake, and just as the band was finishing their set, the skies opened up and it started Raining with a capital R. The stage was getting soaked, the canopy over the stage was filling with water, and then the lightening started. We had no choice but to abandon the stage and run for cover. It rained, thundered and lightening-ed solid for about a half an hour, while we huddled under a tarp between a couple of motor homes with some festival attendees.

    After the deluge, we convened on the stage to figure out a course of action. The stage had to be swept of water, one corner of the overhead canopy was lowered and the huge puddle was drained off, and there looked like there might be a chance to actually play. The problem was that weather reports showed a bigger storm rolling in behind the one we had. But this is, after all, the Pacific Northwest, and the locals are pretty used to a little rain.

    So, the show must go on! We’d play until we got rained out. So after another hectic half hour set up, we finally hit the stage. It was fun to watch the people come wandering out of the orchard as we started making noise, and by the time we started really playing the field was getting filled up again. Or scheduled two hour set became a one hour set, but like I figured, third day of our three day tour, the band was really tight, and absolutely on. The crowd was digging it, and we were too. The weather must have liked us too, because that second storm never did come in.

    I’m really glad we got to play on Sunday, because otherwise it would have been a very anti-climactic end to the weekend. It would have felt like unfinished business. Plus, the show was so much fun, everyone smiling and having a good time on stage and out front. A Love-Fest, really. Even the ducks came out of the lake and ambled up to the Hamburger shack to see what all the hub-bub was about.

    After our set, we hung around and watched Cee Cee James channel her (and our) inner Janis, and saw Becky Sue and Her Big Rockin’ Daddies! Bring the curtain down on the 9th Annual Rendezvous Festival. The Seattle blues scene, at least what I saw of it from the inside, is large, supportive of each other, and very healthy. I’m sure someone’s writing bad stuff about the scene on Craig’s list somewhere, but the people I met were too busy hanging out together to mind.

    Because the local motel, as the promoter put, looked too much like a Meth Lab, we had to make our way down the road to…wait, I have to look this up to spell it right…Tonasket, and the Apple Barrel Inn. Now, there’s probably 147 “Apple Barrel” motels of one kind or another in Washington, but ours took a great deal of abuse from our entourage. I would just like to point out that while we just slept and left, the room did have a small fridge and a microwave, working TV, and, umm, ‘Vintage’ furnishings. It also had one of the best Motel showers I’ve ever come across; lots of pressure and a shower head that wasn’t pointed at my chest. As for the room’s artwork – a ‘Cowboy” scene painted directly on the cinder-block wall, I found it a little more thoughtful than the standard “Art Sale” fare you become accustomed to. Not that I’d have the same on my wall at home, mind you, but I thought it displayed a certain sense of Western individuality. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

    Monday started with a display of Tonasket hospitality. I wandered down the street to the supermarket for a cup of coffee, and the girl at the bakery counter couldn’t have been nicer, showing me how to use a coffee machine (Duh!), and then when I went to the check out to pay, the lady there said “Is all you have the coffee? Oh, well, it’s free today. Some days, it’s just free.” Free coffee? I love this place! The breakfast joint was equally as friendly, and made for a great start to a lazy day of making our way back to Seattle.

    The trip involved a stop at a Wal*Mart Supercenter, that I believe had its own subway system, it was so big. Suze and Terri got Fishing Licenses, and geared up for some angling, so the drive was broken up by “Does this look like a good spot”, and breaks for throwing things in the water, as 97 follows the river. We stopped for coffee in the hilarious town of Leavenworth, where their so into the whole “Bavarian Village” thing, that there’s a city ordinance that all businesses must use the same type face. So you have Bank of America, Chase bank, and even Starbucks displayed in a goofy, fairy tale, “Swiss Miss” font.

    Tuesday morning, and I was back at SeaTac for the flight home. Glad to be going home, but sad to be leaving. There’s talk of some Red Hot Blues Sisters road work in the future, and I’ve already let them now I’m down for it! I’ll be appearing with them on October 10th in Grants Pass, Oregon, and looking forward to it.

    Today, it’s time to pack. Cindy and I leave for New Orleans in the morning. A week of recalibrating our internal clocks to Southern rhythms. After we booked the trip, I checked on some of my friends schedules, and it just so happens that “Sweet Jones” could use a bassist for this Saturday, the 19th, show at Checkpoint Charlie’s on Esplanade. See you there at 11PM! If you can’t make it, I’ll tell you all about it.

Saturday morning, and I had a full day to goof off and see Vancouver. Up and out at about ten o’clock, down to the main drag, turn left and explore. Some places along Granville Avenue look like a movie set from some Bowery Bums flick; old school seedy. Quarter Peep Shows, clothing stores, and McDonald’s – the Canadian McDonald’s with the little red Maple Leaf in the middle of the Golden Arches – all vie for what will be prime real estate when the Winter Olympics start up early next year. Construction is everywhere. The huge Tom Lee Music Store wasn’t quite open when I went by the first time.

I walked until I ran into water. Well, not literally; I would have had to make my way across a cruise ship the size of Emeryville. The port, the new Convention Center complex, and the attractive Port Walk with the historic plaques full of stories of local color, good and bad, really add to this city’s beauty. To stand and watch a seaplane arc out of the sky and skim down on the bay gave that kid-type thrill you don’t get too often.

Vancouver, like San Francisco and New Orleans, is surrounded by water, and so is geographically limited. As I walked back to the other end, it’s clear that the high rise apartment building is King here. There’s a huge marina, some beautiful parks, and a ton of balconied apartments overlooking it all. There’s a whole walkway along the shore, and it felt like you could walk around the whole peninsula. I found a very cool AIDS memorial, made up of large metal plates, with the names of the fallen cut out. People had left flowers and ribbons in the cut out names of their loved ones. It reminded me a lot of the Vietnam Memorial Wall in D.C., the most amazing public memorial I’ve ever seen.

After a little more strolling around, I went back to my room, and Robert had left, but had made Hotel Room Coffee. This brought the rest of my Cup o’ Soup memory back into focus; I was definitely in the right hotel, and it wasn’t a microwave. I had heated water in the coffee pot for my soup! Road Resourcefulness.

As it happens, the Yale hosts a blues jam every Saturday afternoon, and I decided to go check out the local talent. Ronnie, our drummer was there, and we hung out and he convinced me to sign up. He was a little put off by the guy running the jam. It seems that he was also the drummer from the late band the night before, and when Ronnie tried to give the guy a little respect, he got blown off. We watched the jammers, obviously, most if not all were regulars. I watched one bass player get up and play three times. As we got closer to the end of jam, Jam Boss comes over and tries to figure out if we’re worthy of a slot. He looks me in the eye and says “Well, I dunno…are you any good?” Yeah. I’m pretty good. Ronnie and I got up feeling like we had something to prove, and we just burned! I don’t even remember what we played, or much about who we played with, but we brought it. The drummer who ran the thing was gone before we got off the stage.

Two hours later we were back on the same stage with the band, and we played much, much better. Ronnie and I had a little more time working together, we had had a chance to go over rough spots from the night before, and playing the songs a second time in two days gave everything a more solid feel. Another big crowd, a perpetually full dance floor, and a fine time was had by all. In fact, a bunch of videos can be found on YouTube, if you search “Red Hot Blues Sisters”. Great night! A friend from BABP, a bass player forum I frequent, who lives outside of Vancouver came and brought his wife and some friends. Meeting “Internet Friends” in real life is always a treat. Sometimes after the gig, when you think it might be fun to hang around and bask in the afterglow, the whole mood in the club can shift. Saturday night was one of those nights, and pretty soon a girl who had too much to drink was yelling and fighting with a guy who – surprise surprise – was trying to leave her. I know, right? Weird. We had an early lobby call anyway, to make our way across the Trans Canada Highway to the next day’s festival in Oroville, Washington. Wherever that was.

A couple of uncategorized Vancouver facts; evidently, the city is home to the most extensive Saxophone shop in the western hemisphere. Robert and Jay spent a lot of time there. The restaurant at the Quality Inn is not the best place to eat. We had breakfast, and the buffet was $15. Menu items included Salsa, for $2.65, and Slice of Cheese, $3.25. The place to eat is The White Spot. A little pricey, but really, really good food. So much for the travelogue!

Part Three coming soon.

   I once wrote that being on tour was like Jean-Paul Sartre’s “No Exit”. Of course, that was a couple of years ago, and despite being proud of tossing around literary allusions like Gatsby’s shirts, (ahem), I was referring to a rather specific set of circumstances.

   Those circumstances don’t need to be recounted here, though, because this story is about spending time playing music with a great band, and more importantly, great people. I first met The Red Hot Blues Sisters on a trip to Seattle, and we hung out, jammed, and they took me to some crazy, middle of the night diner. All ‘golden’ to musicians! We’ve kept in touch, and I’ve been waiting for the day when I’d actually get an opportunity to work with them.

   That opportunity happened this last weekend, when they flew me up to Seattle, allowed me to stay in their home, and took me along for a long weekend of gigs. I can’t tell you how much I was looking forward to this trip. Going places to play music for people that want to hear it is the best single thing to do, musically. Doing that with people you like and admire is huge.

   The weekend started bright and early…okay, more like sleepy and early, Thursday morning at Oakland Airport. The tall guy with the sax was obviously my travelling companion, Robert Zuckerman. Robert plays with Cold Blood, so we have some mutual friends, and was part of the whole weekend. Suze picked us up at the airport, and we got a quick tour of the radio station…actually the five radio stations under one roof, she works for. Then Robert and I we’re left to fend for ourselves in downtown Seattle for the afternoon.

   Seattle is a great city, very similar in feel to San Francisco, with a lot of hills, surrounded by water. One other thing; the clichés are true, there literally IS a Starbucks on every block, and the lines in all of them were five or six people deep. The Raiders were in town for a pre-season game, but Raider Nation was vastly outnumbered by the LSU fans - decked out in Purple and Gold, handing out beads – in town for a game against UW.

   Thursday night we had a quick rehearsal, and Saturday we headed for the border. Now, I’ve had a couple of occasions to cross the US – Canada border with a band a couple few times, and whether it’s because of the new guy who lives on Pennsylvania Avenue, or maybe just a…better class of people crossing this time, I’ve never had an easier time with Canadian officials. Not quite warm n’ fuzzy, but efficient, and almost…friendly. In any case, the whole thing was quick and easy, and we were headed for Vancouver.

   And we would have made it quickly and easily, if Canada hadn’t decided to close one lane, and have all the in-flowing Friday-of-a-three-day-weekend traffic go from four lanes to one. Huge traffic jam. Eh. But no matter, after a bit we were in Vancouver, and checking into our hotel. The nice thing about this club, The Yale Hotel (which I’ve played before), is that the hotel is a block away. I had this vivid memory of the last time I was here; after the gig, I went to the 7/11 across the street, and got a Cup o’ Soup, which, as I recalled, I heated in the room’s microwave, and it was the perfect after gig snack. But my room didn’t have a microwave, so how could that be? Was this even the right hotel? Weird.

   The Yale is an institution. It’s been a blues club for decades, and anybody who’s anybody has played there. Even me! The club has its own bass amp, and…

  Sidebar; how brilliant is this idea? I’ve always felt that a club should have at least a basic backline in place. It makes for a quicker set up, it means your soundman gets used to how things will sound night to night, and at the end of the night, no gear to move. Unplug and walk.

   So, the bass amp is a big old behemoth 2x15 cab with a GK 800RB head. Old, ugly, and perfect.

   I won’t lie about Friday nights gig; we didn’t exactly play great. Oh, we were good, but without trying to make excuses, I’d never played with the drummer, outside of our one rehearsal I’d never played with the band. Tempos were sketchy, feels were questionable, and cues were missed. The first set, heavy on originals, was tentative. The second set, full of R&B standards, went better. The crowd was great all the way around. The club was full, and the party was on.

   After the set. I hung out for a bit and watched the late-night band (we finished at midnight, and then a local band plays from 12:30 to 3:00AM), but it was too “Blues Rock” Cabaret for me. When the drummer started “rapping” during Bill Withers “Use Me” – which they introduced as a Al Green tune, insert eye-roll here – I headed for the Quality Inn.

   A bunch of us gathered in Terri and Suze’s room for some late night goofing off, and the hanging out and laughing took away any lingering bad feelings from our perceived shortcomings on the bandstand. Saturday would be better.

Part Two Coming Very Soon!