Hovering Above the Jazz Police with The Flycats

The end of the Thanksgiving weekend gave me an opportunity to play some jazz with the mighty Flycats.  They have a semi-regular Sunday brunch gig at Moondance in Suwanee.  Of course, this provided me a few hours to hang with one of my best friends going back to my early years in the ATL, Master Reece Harris.  Reece is a formidable drummer who can play just about anything.  He took the sickest solo on Paul Desmond's Take Five I have ever witnessed!  Too bad I was one of the four people there to check it out.  Glenn Tocci on the guitar gave us a run for our hard-earned moolah!  He led us through a little bit of That's the Way of the World, Isn't She Lovely, and a request from the owner('s husband - she was out for the the weekend, along with everybody else who frequents the establishment) of Stormy Monday, complete with an impromptu harmonica solo - nice!  We rocked the joint and ate our weight in omelets, bacon, and hotcakes.  It was a joyous noise.  Those guys are so complimentary.  I can't think of better comrades in that regard.  They truly pumped me up until I felt like I could do no wrong.  My intonation was a bit quirky every so often, but I had the drive to keep it aggressive and confident.  Thanks to the 'cats!  Hope we can reconvene again before we get too much older.

A Recording Session With An Old Sparring Partner

I almost forgot to jot this down: a session with Rin Vinson.  What can I say about Rin?  He has built his own home.  What's that you say?  Yes, he built his house, and oooh, it's nice!  He's good, real good!  He now has his own business.  Trucks.  There's money in trucks.  My wife doesn't want to hear about it.  I get it.  He's quite a remarkable engineer, audio wise.  A killin' drummer who knows the value of John Henry Bonham and a few others as well.  He's putting together a cd and wanted me on it.  God bless him.  Fortunately for him, he can punch me in and out and blend my tracks till I sound like Marcus Miller on the first take.  Well, maybe not quite.  He does know what he wants and he has a great personality to pull it out of me.  Very cool vibe.  It's hard to describe.  I really respect him and it felt like I had just seen him after all these years have gone by.  We tracked through Duke Ellington's Caravan.  I shall write more when I have a moment.  Such a cool track that we ended up with...

The Egyptian Ballroom: The Hard Way

Note the marquee with the advert for Boortz' Happy Ending - famed talk show host from WSB AM 750 (and now 95.5 on the FM dial) is retiring.  Sad but true.  Talk radio is about to lose a major constituent here in Atlanta.  I waited for the blurbs to cycle around once again to capture Neil's upcoming goodbye show announcement.

It can happen to the most seasoned professional, one who has amassed a stellar history of legendary gigs with hundreds of noteworthy peers.  It can also happen to the likes of me.  I forgot a crucial piece of gear: my cart.  No wheels means that everything must be carried from the car to the stage and subsequently back to the car after the show.  As I typically do not travel light, this can be quite a burden.  The Fox freight elevator can make for a memorable process.  The wait for the freight!  The fine caterers, audio-visual (in this case lighting), furniture and props, etc. all add to the demand of this smallish lift.  Gus was there, not too far in advance, and he was still dealing with the continuing physical therapy of his knee.  He and I both chose to carry our gear up the stairs that led to the stage in the ballroom.  It actually worked out okay.  I got some exercise.  Had some troublesome chest pains as a result.  Got to keep the ticker working for a bit longer.  Fortunately, I brought the golight 115 and not the older Goliath 410 (85 lbs. or so).  Couldn't find my stand bag - had left it down on the dock!  Still there.  Parked at the Georgian Terrace, comped but still a bit of a hassle.

We set out to make the bride happy.  She wanted some particular hip-hop tunes.  Her number 1 choice: Kanye West ft. Jamie Foxx performing Gold Digger.  Such a fun tune!  Don't play it for your momma!  Also learned Flo Rida's Club Can't Handle Me, Big Boi's I Like The Way You Move, and David Guetta's I Can Only Imagine.  The night went by fast; only 2 sets to get through.  We had Margarita subbing for Dianna.  I thought she sounded great!  My poor little Ashbory needs to have that electronic upgrade performed.  It is just not cutting the mustard with the big guns.  Got to get that figured out.  I would be willing to pay for that procedure, or at least purchase the complete parts package through an Ashbory dealer.  I'd also want to make the LED a blue one, which has been discussed as well.  It would be a better toy after that.  Those white strings are great!  They actually stay in tune, and so far, knock on wood, they don't break!

Getting out after the gig?  Fugget about it!  Trey Songz was performing in the theater.  Nine trucks!  The dock was not going to be the exit.  Nine trucks!!!  Huge!  The concert let out and traffic was not going to cooperate.  Gus and I circled around the block until we came to our senses and double parked on Ponce.  Loaded out the front.  It was a 2 hour ordeal!  What?  I met up with Anton and Derek at Churchill Grounds for a Grey Goose martini (up with olives) and an ice water.  It was a necessity after going through a seemingly impossible mission.  What a way to end the night.  We played well, although I noticed my fingers were not responding the way they used to.  I need to practice more, or at least warm up on some of those Motown and Stax things: Ain't Too Proud To Beg and Soul Man come to mind.  Looking back, no major brown notes to be shameful of.  We got our accents and and kicks in all of the right places.  The bride had the time of her life, and the father of the bride gave me props as I summoned my waiting chariot before the bitter coda to the evening.

A bad picture mainly because it does not convey the volume of people, buses, trucks, and congestion I encountered in my attempt to rescue my waiting gear.

Martinis with Anton and Derek at Churchill Grounds.

A Weekend of Playing Through the Fog

Friday the 9th I had my gear with me to head straight down 85 (a lovely autumn jaunt with about 20,000 of my closest friends doing the same thing) to set up and play at the Capital City Club with the Billy Batts Ensemble.  It was another round of distinctive blues, jazz, and soft rock for the fine folks in downtown Atlanta.  We were inside, even though the temps had rebounded to the milder side.  Big TIme wasn't with us.  In his place was Keith Hicks, who has played with us before.  Hey, I just realized we didn't get around to Bright Size Life.  We did a fair amount of blues and such: Little Wing, Tenor Madness, All Blues, Song For My Father, and a request for Take Five with an enforced drum solo by Mark Letalien.  Really, on of the highlights was the last tune we played; an afterthought of a jam on Stevie Wonder's Love Light In Flight.  The melody and changes lend itself to a real smooth Latin-tinged groove, far removed from the '80's electronic blandness of the original from The Woman In Red.  Walt "Middleshelf" Austin had the changes and pretty much everything.  Stevie doesn't write too many bad ones, but for my money, once he started programming everything, the heart and soul vanished.  Keith played really well, if a little too loud (what guitar player doesn't?).  He should be doing it more often.

A surprise - young drummer-extraordinaire Reece Harris (of the trad-jazz sensation The Flycats) came by
during a break in his band's set taking place one floor up.  Ever dapper and spreading his bonhomie like
Tinkerbell scatters her pixie dust, Reece make everybody in the room smile and see the lighter side of the situation.

Saturday was with the more flexible conglomeration of the same cats, Atlanta's own Sweetwater Junction.  We played a high school reunion for the classes of '71 and '72 from Chattahoochee High School.  Their football team is the Cougars, so a big sign was hung that read "Welcome to Cougar Country".  How appropriate.  There were many cougars present last night.  Well preserved ladies in short skirts out to have a good time.  We did a decent job of giving them some nice music.  Acoustic based first set, using my Johnson fretless.  It does indeed seem to distort a bit if the volume pot on the bass is all the way up.  By nudging it down to about 8 or 9, it breathes a bit better (thanks for the tip, Walt).  I compress the signal anyway, so the volume remains about the same, just a little less hot.  I love the sound of it; a nice alternative to upright or electric upright.  I'm thinking the guys in the band are not so crazy about anything other than a Fender.  Well, it worked in giving us a different vibe for the lengthy first set.  The batteries in my 6-string died on me during I Saw Her Standing There.  I had to switch back to the Johnson.  I brought my Stingray as well, so I brought that out for the funk-filled third set.  One of our best from this night was a high-energy filled Hard To Handle.  Mark Letalien was on fire, brimming with boundless energy that I dutifully stayed on the leading edge to keep the bus on course.  We had some nice rhythmic and melodic turns - I thought of Geddy and Neil during those composed fills over Freewill.

A Night at The Biltmore with Class Act

Brent & John at The Biltmore, with the rest of Class Act in the background
Photo by Brent Whiten

Got this past Saturday night booked on Halloween, thanks in no small part to my friend Brent Whiten.  He regularly plays with the band Class Act, or as it is sometimes labeled, Class Act Band  They needed a bass player for this Saturday and I was indeed available.  The band is led by keyboardist/vocalist Judy Boehm.  She was very nice and helpful.  Her style is to just go right into the next song, giving the night a free-flowing non-stop array of tunes.  Many times the keys were different from the original (not an issue, if you really know the song), but she would hold up 4 fingers indicating the key was E (for sharps in the key signature).  The guitarist, Ed Sanker, gave me some good audibles as well.  He shared many of the lead vocals with Brent. 

The song selections were spot on.  Uncanny how similar the flow was compared to what I encounter with my regular band: Waiting On The World To Change, Don't Know Why, Everything, When You Say Nothing At All, Better Together, My Girl, Love Shack, Shout!, Brick House, Play That Funky Music, Get Down Tonight, You Are The Sunshine of My Life, Crocodile Rock.  You get the picture.  The first dance was Queen's Crazy Little Thing Called Love.  Love those syncopated breaks and that neo-swing groove.  Brent gave to a nice authentic vibe with the clicks on the rims during those breaks - very cool.  I brushed up on it to nail the correct changes and that quick low F (after the Em - A7 turnaround) that I had never learned in the past.  The guitar solo goes to Bb instead of simply repeating the IV of the bridge.  A great tune to have under your fingers.  John Deacon always played the perfect part on those original Queen albums.  His lines are worth studying.

Everything was great all night except for our attempting to honor a request.  I was over my head with It's Still Rock and Roll To Me.  Overstepped my bounds and really just tried to stay out of the way.  It sucked the wind out of my sails, but they really wanted to hear some upbeat Billy Joel.  Well, you can't fake it all the time.  Lesson learned, I hope.  All in all, a great night in the reverberant chambers of the Biltmore.  We were able to dine from the buffet, so no cold chicken boxed lunch!  It did get loud, but in my opinion it was fairly manageable.  Nobody complained, and everything sounded good.  I stuck to my Fender Jazz.  My other bands would have remarked that I only played one bass for a whole night.  Maybe I should try that more often!  Many thanks again to Judy for having me fill in for her husband Jim.  Class Act is appropriately named!

Getting a little bit lower now during Shout!

You've made it this far - here is the arm-chair quarterback ocd-centric fakebook-approved chart for Billy Joel's It's Still Rock and Roll To Me.  Suitable for framing, although I was already framed!  It never hurts to have a little 80's Billy Joel in your back pocket.  Remember, we only play 80's Billy Joel - what movie was that Uptown Gurls band from?  Too funny!