Geezer Rock

WPLJ!

The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance and I drove over to Napa Valley today to get a bottle of port as a Christmas present for my dad, Harold Dean "Weird Harold" Chance, who is coming out to Sacramento from Texas for Christmas. We did some wine tasting, of course. The problem with wine tasting is that you're drinking during the day. This is a practical problem, rather than a moral one. You're half bagged by 3 p.m., but you still have to function until 10 p.m. or so. By the time cocktail hour arrives for real, you're ready for bed. My solution used to be simple: keep drinking. That doesn't really fit my current lifestyle choices, which include being a proper role model and not turning my liver into a giant scab. On the plus side, we had lunch at Mustard's Grill. (You're not dealing with starving artist here. Or even an artist.) The lunch was significant for two reasons, neither of which related to the food:
1.) The Mustard's sound system featured a judicious selection of tunes by Hound Dog Taylor, the late Chicago slide guitarist and bandleader. I'd seen Hound Dog a few times in the early 1970s. Even in his 60s, he was an unbelieveable wildman and trendsetter, with a raunchy "full screech" guitar tone and a band that featured two guitarists, no bass player and a drummer. The Dog's style and sound influenced The Black Keys and the John Spencer Blues Explosion, among many others. Stevie Ray Vaughan paid tribute to Hound Dog by covering Give Me Back My Wig in his live shows. You can hear Stevie's version on Live and Montreaux 1982 and 1985, but even Vaughan can't top Hound Dog's raw and filthy version on the live album Beware of the Dog. Both Hound Dog and his co-guitarist, Brewer Phillips plugged into one Fender amp and maxed out the volumne controls. The resulting sound has been characterized as "Robert Johnson turned up to twelve," which hardly conveys Hound Dog's scorching, eardrum-busting boogie. Hound Dog's said this of himself: "He can't play for shit, but he sure made it sound good!" This is my personal mantra. Hound Dog only knew about a dozen Elmore James style licks and simply rearranged them every which way. Most blues albums these days sound too polite. Hound Dog is pure punk blues. I was so thrilled, I delivered a 60 second rant on Hound Dog to the waitress, who clearly had no idea what I was talking about. I guess she probably has to deal with a lot of people who've been drinking during the day.
2) The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance likes port. While perusing the list of Ports and fortified wines (real port only comes from Portugal), she found a locally made Chardonnay port. At this point, I nearly levitated out of my chair and started speaking in tounges simultaneously. She had discovered actual WHITE PORT! This significance of this brings us to another great song from the KDOG playlist.

White Port and Lemon Juice
I first heard WPLJ on the Zappa album Burnt Weeny Sandwhich. White Port and Lemon Juice is a street alcoholic drink of sweet, high-alcohol white port wine mixed with lemon juice, which I assume makes the port's overhelming sweetness palatable. The white port used is a cheap brand like Gallo or Swiss Colony. I loved the song, especially Roy Estrada's demented Spanish rap, even though I could never figure out what he was saying. I noticed that the song wasn't a Zappa original. I knew Zappa was a big fan of obsure 50s doo-wop and R&B records. I dreamed of someday hearing the original. Thanks to Tommy "Uncle Tom" Dunbar, the world's most perfect brother-in-law, I finally got the chance. Tommy actually has the original 45 in his massive collection. The record is by the Four Dueces. It's even better than Zappa's version, with terrific vocals and a wonderful swinging beat. I found a couple of references to the song on the internet, including this great story:

"I didn't start dropping "bennies" until I came to Los Angeles in 1944. By that time pot was passe for me because I had never liked the feeling it gave me anyway. Pot (marijuana) made me self-conscious and a bit paranoid. It afforded no relaxation at all, especially while playing my instrument. Pot was good to sit and dig sounds with. Benzedrine was sold in two forms, pills and the inhalers. It was legal to buy the inhalers over the counter, but you were supposed to have a prescription for the pills. The pills were used legally, mainly by airline pilots, bus drivers, etc. - anyone who had to stay alert and awake in their occupation. The inhaler was a different story; anyone could purchase them. The benzedrine was inside the inhaler, saturated in an orange-coloured paper strip. At that time we were drinking Molotov Cocktails, which is white port wine mixed with lemon juice. Man, we would get four or five quarts of white port, buy some inhalers, break them open, put the strips in each bottle of wine, put the wine next to a heater or heat, and let it sit and dissolve for a few days. When you drink that shit, man it will blow your mind, but we would be feeling mellow being loaded for days without any ZZZ's. Cisco knew exactly how long to let it set and dissolve, just like a moonshiner."
From Roy Porter's autobiography, "There and Back", 1991, Bayou Press, Wheatley, Oxford, p. 79.

I don't know who exactly who Roy Porter is, but I imagine that if he's still alive, his liver must have more holes than a Whiffle ball. (I have since found that Roy was jazz and bop drummer who, by own admission, let drugs and alcohol derail a promising career.)
Several Zappa fanatics transcribed and translated Roy Estrada's crazed Spanish vocalizations on the Zappa version. The English translation is even more incomprehensible and than the Spanish version, if you can imagine. According to one amateur linguist, Estrada is telling another member of the band, Motorhead, that giving a girl some of this magical beverage will make Motorhead "more attractive to fuck."
KDOG has been doing WPLJ since the first rehearsal. It's now clear that Nick must phonentically cop Roy Estrada's Spanish rap. What a "crowd pleaser" this will be. I had hoped to up the show biz factor by buying rounds of White Port and Lemon juice for the crowd at the Stoney End every time we do the song, but the bartender just looked at me like I'd ordered a cat turd instead of an olive with my martini and said they didn't have white port: "What the hell is that shit, anyway?"
For those of you who are just dying to know, here are the lyrics:

White Port and Lemon Juice

I say WPLJ, really taste good to me
WPLJ, won't you take a drink with me
Well, it's a good, good wine
It really makes you feel so fine
(So fine, so fine, so fine)

I went to the store when the opened up the door
I said, "Please, please, please gimme some more
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
Oooh what it do to you!

You take the bottle, you take the can
Shake up fine, you get a good good wine
White port and lemon juice
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
Oooh what it do to you!

The W is the white
The P is the port
The L is the lemon
The J is the juice
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
Oooh what it do to you!

Well I feel so good, I feel so fine
I got plenty lovin', I got plenty wine
White port and lemon juice
White port and lemon juice
I said white port and lemon juice
Oooh what it do to you!
(Dobard/McDaniels 1955)

I also learned that Swiss Colony turned this great song into a jingle to better target the lucative wino and bum demographic. As an advertising professional who also produces and plays on a lot of jingles, I find this factoid to be unbearably exciting. My new mission in life is to get a copy of this jingle and have Nick also do the announcer copy right in the middle of the song. Perhaps we can even get Swiss Colony to sponsor us, sort of like Pepsi did with Michael Jackson.
©2006 Edward Dean Chance. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

More Songs & Playlist

Nick sent me an e-mail announcing that he thought our goal should be to write 99 original songs because "it's a nice round number." This sounded ambitious to me, until I got a glimpse of Nick's staggering lyrical productivity. Last week, I sent him several song fragments and asked if he had any ideas. Within five days, Nick completed all the lyrics, plus sketched out an entire three act rock opera starring Kenton KDOG Lee, complete with staging directions and costume suggestions. At one point I am supposed to be dressed as a wizard and it is suggested that Kenton wear a "diaper or an egg costume." While no one can argue that a unique creative visionary is at work here, Kenton is going to blow out a a major anal vessel when he sees this stuff. Kenton favors a more sedate, straightforward musical presentation, al la Gov't Mule or the Allman Brothers. Nick, however, seems to be morphing into the Sun Ra of the Blues.
Sun Ra is the late jazz pianist, composer and band leader who listed the planet Saturn as his birthplace. Once you hear Sun Ra's surreal take on jazz, you'll realize that he was not joking. A sort of Duke Ellington from the outer reaches of the solar system, Sun Ra pioneered free jazz, funk and Afro-cuban rhythms with a sense of showmanship unmatched by any serious jazz artist before or since. Sun Ra was psychedelic long before the invention of LSD. His many stage shows always featured colorful interplanetary costumes, dancing, chanting and other grand spectacles, which provided great inspiration for artists like George Clinton. (I always thought that Clinton was Sun Ra for the funk generation. Clinton's concerts featured a lot of space props and imagery, including a giant "Mothership." Clinton's personal wardrobe owes a lot to Sun Ra, who dressed like an extra from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine every day of his life.) Sun Ra released almost as many albums as Frank Zappa during his long career, so it's hard to know where to start. (Most Sun Ra records make Zappa's recorded output sound relatively conventional.) I recommend picking up Greatest Hits: Easy Listening for Intergalactic Travel. If Sun Ra were still alive, he'd be wildly popular on the jam band circuit.
Anyway, Nick rapidly filled in the blanks on several songs that I'd started, including the long-in-gestation Doing My Cousin. Sample lyric:

I'll love that woman until I'm dead
I hope our kids don't have six heads
I'm doin my cousin
Just doin my cousin
She jumped me
By the family tree
I'm doin' my cousin
©2006 Edward Dean Chance and Nicholas John Ciani, Sounds of Hounds Music.

Nick also finished off Fishin' With Dynamite, Evil Chemical Jeff and I'm Too Dumb to Quit. They need massaging, but they're real close.
I especially like Nick's take on Fishin' With Dynamite, which is a phrase I stole from a guy I used to work with who liked to say "Man, things are going so good, it's like I'm fishin' with dynamite." It's a metaphor for a guy who can't miss and can't lose. Best moment: the song's hero goes to the doctor, thinking he is suffering from a monstrous case of hemorrhoids, only to discover that he has a solid gold egg lodged in his rectum. I think this proves that the best ideas are always the simplest and most obvious. And think of the video! Can our moment of "heavy rotation" on VH1 be far off? All this new work is on top of the bound book of 88 songs and poems that Nick gave me a couple of months ago. Enough songs for a lifetime of KDOG albums. But until we can arrange and rehearse these fabulous contributions to American music, the world will have to be satisfied with the existing KDOG playlist, which includes:

Long Gray Mare
Peter Green, who replaced Eric Clapton in John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers and later founded Fleetwood Mac, still gets my vote as England's greatest bluesman. Every bit Clapton's equal on the guitar, Green was also a far superior vocalist and songwriter. And you can find a lot of pepole who think that Clatpon cannot touch Green and a blues and rock guitar god. Long Gray Mare, yet another song about not getting laid, is not a Green original, but we copy his great version. If only Nick or I could sing it as well as Green does. Green developed intractable mental health problems and quit the music business by the early 70s. He's active musically again, but the fire and creativity is long gone.

Crossroads
Eric Clapton now says he "hates" his famous guitar solo on Cream's version of this song because, among other alleged flaws, the phrasing is off, stressing beats 1 and 3 intead of the "backbeats" 2 and 4. This "flaw" is exctacly what makes the solo so great. I cop a few of the licks, but this is really a vehicle for Kenton's big drum solo of the night. Kenton displays not one atom of self-conciousness or fear of mistakes when he solos. He completely gives it up. It's important to remember that Kenton is in constant pain from arthritis in his knuckles. At our last gig, Kenton played with entire show while afflicted with a throbbing migraine. Can you imagine playing a drum solo while feeling that your entire head was about to explode? Kenton hits the pots and pans so hard, I think my skull is going to shatter half the time.

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Rockpourri

I am not exactly a mellow person. I often radiate the dreaded bad vibes. I would not have been welcome at the Summer of Love. I can't stand the smell of pot and I love the movie Woodstock only because everyone in it is such a self-absorbed twerp, acting like sitting in the mud for three days is some kind of breakthrough for humanity. I loved Santana's set, though. That one rocked. My favorite part is the movie's end sequence where you see the giant mounds of garbage left behind by the departing crowds. To me, that's the message of the 60s: fun's over - now someone else can clean up the mess. I actively blame flower power for taking drug use into the mainstream of American culture. My idea of a great rock concert is Altamont. No one was kidding themselves after that one. I have a great sense of humor, but often deploy it as a weapon and a defensive tactic, like a squid flooding the water with ink to cover its escape. When the joke's on me, however, I can be exceedingly grumpy. The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance sometimes askes me, after one of my rants, "where in the world does that anger come from?" I have to say that I don't really know.
You might gather from the previous paragraph that being in a band with me could be, a times, an uncomfortable experience and you'd be right. Especially at practice. I recall screaming at KDOG once and noting that you could see actual spit flying out of my mouth. In my defense, I must point out that KDOG can be a poor listener and I don't believe in spanking. This kind of behavior is probably a factor in our inability to keep a full-time bass player. There's just too damn much tension.
The tendency in writing a public diary like this is to portray oneself as Mr. Wise and Wonderful while simultaneously peeing on everyone else. I am trying to fight this tendency.
Practice yesterday kicked off with Kenton calling me at 4 p.m. to say that the bass player we'd hoped to try out couldn't make it.
"It's snowing up on Pollock Pines, so he's worried he won't be able to get back up there, " Kenton said. "He and his wife didn't make any plans to deal with the weather."
"He lives in POLLOCK PINES?" I said. "That's more than an hour away! He'll never be able to commit to rehearsals and gigs! We wrap the load out at the shows at like two in the morning. He won't be getting home unitil after three or even later. His wife will never put up with that!"
Like I've said before, I see the glass as half empty. Or if it is half full, I see the liquid as being phlegm.
"It's the weather, that' s all," Kenton said. "He doesn't work in Pollock Pines. He works downtown."
"There's always going to be some excuse," I replied.
Once I get on a good negative roll, I like to stay with it. I call this phenomenon anger inertia: the tendency of a bad mood to stay bad. I think I just like being a big crank. And it's not like I'm out recruiting bass players, either.
"I don't know, but I have a feeling," Kenton told me as we drove the the famous Mojo Dojo Rehearsal and Hair Care Product Storage Facility. "I really think this could be the guy."
Kenton says that about all the bass players. Give me someone who can hang in for a year. Then I might accept it.
Most of the bass players we contact seem to want all the gigs and money to already be in place. Nobody wants to build from scratch. I'd like to say they're all greedy and worthless, except that my first reaction is always, "I dunno. What's it pay?"
KDOG only practices once a week for about two or three hours. It's important to use that hunk of time productively. I'm big believer in focused practice, whether it's with the band or by yourself. Don't just sit there and play the stuff you already know. It's fun. It's easy. But you won't make any progress. Intead, you have to work on something new while fixing problem areas. Nobody want to play the stuff that they're doing badly, but it's the only way. I think you can improve on any instrument even if you only have 30 minutes a day.
Self-directed learning is important in a band like this. Everybody has tapes and CDs of the songs we're learning. I expect everyone to show up knowing their parts. It doesn't always happen.
Right now, we're having a problem with Riot in Cell Block #9. It's a simple song. Simple songs are always the hardest to do well, because simple songs rely on getting the expressive nuances and details right. The drums play a big part in making Riot an interesting experience. This is crucial. It's a sit-and-listen song. Only the most disturbed and creative bar patrons could possibly dance to it. Kenton has to make shifts in the beat that change the song's feel, plus add critical accents and do some Tommy-Gun, rat-a-tat-tat effects on his snare.
Kenton is probably the loudest drummer I've ever heard. His snare drum crack is enough to burst the ear drums of anyone unlucky enough to be standing close by. Riot is an opportunity to use Kenton's pile-driving style in a musical way. It's clear that Kenton has not been listening to his copy of the Dr. Feelgood version of the song or practicing. I am sympathetic. Kenton's life is complex and busy.
I decided to drop the temperamental screaming act and keep it positive, pouring on the praise and jumping around like I would at a show. Riot ended up sounding much better, even without a bass player.
I tried to ignore the fact that I kept forgetting the words.
We also worked on Nick's harmonica break in "You Don't Love Me," which is giving him fits for some reason. Finally, we ran down a few new songs we want to do in the future: covers of She's Tough by the Fabulous Thunderbirds, Honky Tonk Women and La Grange. We're adding the later two songs because experienced giggers warned us that we should always have a handful of crowd pleasers ready to trot out if things get ugly. I view these songs as a kind of emergnecy civil defense system. When I finally post the story of KDOG's first official gig, you'll see the important role "crowd pleasers" can play in calming unruly drunks.
I got home by 8:30 and stupidly picked a fight with the Long Suffering Mrs. Chance, who pointed out that the band stuff is having the biggest impact on the family of any non-work activity. I had to admit that she's right. The band takes me away at least four weeknights a month and screws up weekend plans at least twice monthly. The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance has been incredibly supportive and I believe is the member of our "fan base" who has attended the most KDOG shows. I believe she is also the only person who has actually danced at every KDOG show.
Guys are always off doing non-family stuff: playing golf or softball, entering bass fishing tournaments or running triathalons. Why does so much energy get focused outside the home? No doubt it's the result some primitive drive that was useful for the survival of the species when we lived in caves. Sort of like the guy tendency talk as little as possible and instead communicating by grunting and farting. This could be a good area to reasearch.
©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Nick's Plan

Tonight is rehearsal night. Kenton "KDOG" Lee is back in town. There are uncomfirmed reports of a new bass player showing up. I am not optimistic.
Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani read the blog post about the need for a comprehensive KDOG business plan, complete with mission statement. He subitted, via e-mail, the following hallucinatory strategy for total KDOG world domination. My commentary appears in italics.
My theory is that a rock band is a small business with a product, a staff, equipment, a target market and all the other trappings of our great free enterprise system, which is the envy of the world, except in parts of the Middle East.
I've noticed that many rock bands suffer from the same problems that kill many small businesses: lack of focus, personnel problems, etc. One typical problem is this: just because you've got a marketable skill doesn't mean you're capable of running your own business. Most restaurants fail. They're almost always started by people who are great cooks. Likewise, there a lot of great musicians who are incapable of succeeding in the band environment.
I figured maybe if we dealt with these issues up front, we'd have a better chance of reaching our modest goal of two or three paying gigs a month.

The Nick Ciani Super Bitchin Business Plan

Dean:

Here are some thoughts:

Mission:
Form a compelling Rock Experience -"Must see act"
To provide our audience with an entertaining, unique, rock show that
grabs people and ties them to the band. To build a fan base into a tribe.
Use this vehicle to promote our music, books, CDs, and other "Merch."

You do not often meet harmonica players who are capable of thinking in global terms like this. I think all that huffing and blowing kills brain cells. I liked the word "tribe."

Marketing Considerations:
Product differentiation-KDog is like no other rock/blues band because
we are living art. Our shows are a live Rock Opera; that features three
acts, with staging and lighting effects, a developing modern day tragedy
compete with a demi-god on stage.
I had a rather modest idea of a rock and blues band along the lines of The Fabulous Thunderbirds or Little Charlie and the Nightcats. Clearly, I am not thinking big enough. This is a stage concept worthy of Meat Loaf's rock extravaganzas. I have never seen the word demi-god used in a non-academic context. I think it's appropriate. Rock stars are today's pagan gods Thanks to movies, newspapers, magazines, DVDs, MTV, CDs, the Internet, i-Tunes and satellite radio, they even have the god-like ability to be everywhere at once. It's hard to get through a single day in Amerca without seeing or hearing Madonna.

Audience Demographics:
Family and friends
Baby Boomers
Art and Theatre lovers
Reformed Hippies and Beaters
Young urban types
other "groovy people"
Education: College plus
I don't think we can reach young urban types. It's gonna be people who are 40 and up, I'm afraid. Not a highly desirable demographic for the club owner, unless they're alcoholics. Alcohol consumption levels are probably more imporant than education and income in this instance.

Product Line:
Original CD
books
clothing line
Tee shirts
Posters
K-Dog drum sticks
KDOG will like having his own line of sticks. We're going to need a visual ID system. This is hardly new territory. The Beatles had a great logo: that famous "drop T" Beatles script on the front of Ringo's kick drum during the heyday of Beatlemania. The Rolling Stones "tounge and lips" logo is one of the most recognized corporate trademarks in the world. Frank Zappa's famous moustache-and-soul patch facial hair has been rendered as a registered trade mark. The Grateful Dead over the years developed a wide-ranging graphic identity. The Dead understood their special "look" as well as any packaged goods company.

Distribution:
Play at the Stoney Inn
Sell product at the gigs
Sell books and records at record and music stores
Yes, books. This blog will form the raw material for an book on the highs and lows, mostly lows, of life in Geezer Rock.

Strategy:
We will be strange and that's a good thing because the audience won't be able to dismiss us as:
1. Just another cover band
2. Just another rock and blues band
3. Just another bunch of yuppies trying to relive their youth

Every aspiring "gig pig" has to make a decision early in his career: are you a dance act or a sit and listen act? If you choose the latter route, weddings are out. So are many club gigs. Also: the sit-and-listen brigade is under extra pressure to include the "entertainment factor " to hold the crowd's attention in between furious diplays of instrumental and vocal mastery. This is especially important if, as we do, you dare to inflict original material on your audience.
Frank is now considered a serious composer, but the early Mothers of Invention put over their totally non-danceable music with a stage show that can only be described as the theater of the absurd meets a traveling freak show. Rotten vegetables, a whip-cream-ejaculating stuffed giraffe, uniformed Marines tearing apart a baby doll and other show business atrocities made for good word of mouth. Even if you didn't like the music, you had to see the show.
After all, it is called "show business." Spending an afternoon on YouTube watching band videos reveals most bar-type bands, espcially, Geezer Rock bands, are deficient in stage presence. The sins are many: dumpy outfits, no physical movement, glum expressions, backs turned to the audience and over all low energy.
We have committed all of these sins for far, but we're learning. Nick's vision may be unstageable given our current operating budget of "nothing," but he's got the right ideas. As Frederick the Great said, "Audacity, audacity, always audacity."

THE ROCK OPERA
ACT 1 (First Set) The Young Dogs - Standard rock show - like Gov. Mule
PLAY LIST
1. Rock oldies
2. Songs the band have written regarding our youth
3. Doing My Cousin
4. Super Ego On Vacation
ETC

ACT2 (second set) Metamorphosis - Fanciful and Dreamlike (Midsummer
Night's Dreamish)
The band plays songs with some socially interesting aspects:
1. Government Pot
2. Boo Boo the Magnificent
3. Divorce Laywer

ACT3 (Third set) Deos Ex Machina - gods on stage (Magical Mystery
Tourish)
The band celebrates the presence of KDog - man, the band, and the
experience
1. Two rounds of golf
2. Bad Little Doggie
3. The K-Dog anthem
K-Dog is lifted -via crane- and circles the audience, to thundering
applause.
These are some of Nick's original tunes.

Lower Curtain

Special Effects
1. Smoke - steam machine
2. Colored lights
3. Canvas back drops - Spaulding Grey-esque

Costume Considerations: Since this is a rock opera the following
costume changes should apply
1. Act 1 - Regular rock wear. Casually dressed down
2. Act 2 - First costume change. Costumes should represent some
specific time in rock and blues history
ie. Chicago Blues style. Country rock style
3. Act 3 - Costumes should be fantastic, characterized by bright,
flamboyant (though not effeminate or over-the-top in that respect.)
colors that are dramatic. After all, we will be in the presence of KDOG.
as demi-god.
This costuming could inspire our fan/tribe to start dressing the same,
promoting our clothing line.

I sent this to Kenton. His review: "My God. Did Nick really write this?"

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

KDOG Setlist Part 4 and More

Today is the day of the Toy Run, the biker party gig at the Stoney End that we blew off because of scheduling conflicts with the headliners, the Fryed Brothers.
It would have been a tough day. We would spend more time loading in, setting up and tearing down than we would actually playing. Plus, it's raining, which always adds to the misery.
After church, I spent the afternoon making short ribs. (I do all the family grocery shopping and cooking.)
This is the problem.
The members of a good band have to be what Jon Rubin of the Rubinoos likes to call "Gig Pigs," ready to set up and play anywhere, anytime, even if half the band is infected with Ebola and the club is on fire.
Stevie Ray Vaughn was a gig pig. He was not making short ribs or driving kids to school.
As a pansy-boy hobbyist, I have to face the fact that total mastery can only come from devoting your life to your instrument and performance.
I'm not willing or able to do that. Yet, for some reason, KDOG slogs on, doing what it can.
ZZ Top played 360 nights a year for years before most people ever heard of them. The individual members had all played grinding gig schedules for years before that.
I'm starting to think I like the idea of being in a rock band better than I actually like doing the work of being in a band.
We probably should've played anyway, despite my misgivings. I'm not getting better by standing in the kitchen chopping onions and garlic.
I did play my regular Sunday morning church gig. I have played bass, both electric and upright, in the church worship band for five years. Kenton plays drums for this band, too. My 14-year old son, Brett, filled in for Kenton today.
Most people are stunned to learn that I am an active member of St. John's Lutheran Church, or any religious organization not affiliated directly with the Dark Lord.
The church band is another story in itself, which we will get to.
I can offer this advice: if you play an instrument or sing, don't complain if your wife wants to drag you to church. Instead, get involved in the music and worship program. Every church has one. Most are eager to utilize the talents of aging rockers, ex-folkies and other hams. It's a great way to get your chops back in shape and play regularly. Who knows? You might even get into heaven.
Most people don't realize that church can be fun. If the sermons get boring or seem to make uncomfortable references to your particular sins, you can always check out the Bible you'll find in every pew. This book has it all, including a great many insane stories that aren't often discussed in Bible studies.
As a Lutheran, I was delighted to find that most of my fellow worshippers weren't humorless prigs and many even shared my sick sense of humor. When I sat on a treble hook during a music ministry retreat and buried all three prongs in my sphincter muscle, these Christians laughed so hard they nearly dropped their cocktails. I can't go to a church dinner party or pot luck without shifting uncomfortably in my chair as the eyewitnesses gleefully repeat this story.
I understand the mood is more serious in the Evangelical churches. But the Evangelicals usually have the best and latest musical equipment and sound systems, always important factors in choosing your spiritual path.
Here are a few more of the songs we're not playing at the Stoney End today:

One Way Out
The Allman Brothers and Gov't Mule are Kenton "KDOG" Lee's personal gods. Sonny Boy Williamson, Elmore James and the Allman Brothers Band all recorded fantastic versions of this blues chestnut. Kenton does the vocal, so naturally, we copy the Allman Brothers version from the Eat a Peach album. Kenton cannot sing, but he does a good job of screaming the lyrics, including some extended vocal abuse during the song's long coda targeted at his ex-wife. Kenton punctuates his verbal ejaculations with a few of his patented berserk drum fills. During rehearsals, this tirade can get quite obscene, although he cleans it up for actual gigs. I think the song sounds better with two guitars, as The Allman Brothers do it, but every once in a while, we put together a version that smokes. This is another one of our "non-dancer friendly" tunes, although aging hippies in the audience seem to enjoy it.

You Don't Love Me
This Willie Cobb song is another blues classic with tons of versions on record by everybody from the Allmans to Buddy Guy to John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers. Kenton loves the song because an extended version of it figures prominently on The Allman Brothers at Fillmore East. We keep it short. The KDOG version is a lot like Buddy Guy/Junior Wells version on Hoodoo Man Blues.

Patty Pistol
This Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani tune commemorates Nick's first love. I think she was five. (In fairness, it should be pointed out that Nick was also five.) It's a surf tune. Unable to think of anything to play, I built the solo on the main riff from Dick Dale's surf instrumental Let's Go Trippin. I think Trippin is officially considered the first surf record in history.

Time Tested
Another Nick tune. This is probably the only song of the rock era that deals explicitly with the subject of ground hogs. Perhaps "explicitly" is not the right word, since it's hard to penetrate to the real meaning of this song. The "woo-hoo, woo hoo" backing vocals, intended to be ground hog noises, sound like a nod to the works of Dr. Suess. This song may be responsible for our rotating cast of bass players, none of whom seem particuarly enthused about playing Time Tested. I get the impression they'd rather be doing some bitchin' Stevie Ray tune. This song created a sensation at our first gig, prompting this review: "Do you guys know any good music?" This is a good tune. We're just looking for the right audience and the right bass player. Time Tested could probably use a new arrangement, since it's a two chord vamp that goes on about one verse too long. Someday, I picture the American Idol finalists demanding to sing this song as their final number before the big vote.
©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

KDog Playlist, Part Three

More disposable thoughts on the KDOG song list. Readers are encouraged to correct errors or amplify with their own thoughts. Leave comments!

Bug Eyed Willie/Jesus Just Left Chicago
This medley starts with another original from Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani. Bug Eyed Willie is a Captain Beefheart-like narrative concerning an illicit love affair that produced a bastard love child. This is, Nick tells me, a true story, but it's virtually impossible to figure out what's going on based on lyrical passages such as this:

One day a man came for the twins plus one
Bug Eyed Willie figured himself likewise to be a son
He came running up calling Daddy Mark
The man said 'No, boy, your papa was an aardvark.
(Bug Eyed Willie ©2006 Nicholas John Ciani. All rights reserved.)

Willie is based on a slow, throbbing, one-chord I'm a Man riff in G. It goes right into ZZ Top's Jesus Just Left Chicago, which I sing. Very often we drop into Jesus with the realization that the band sped up during the solos on Willie. It is harder to play slow than it is to play fast. Slow 12/8 or 6/8 blues will test the musicianship of your bass player and drummer like nothing else. In fact, when we audition a new bass player, we're going to start with the slow tunes, just to see if the guy can hang back.

Riot In Cell Block Number 9
I believe the original recording is by The Coasters. Uncle Tom (Tommy Dunbar, my brother-in-law) started singing this with us when he subbed on bass. Tommy introduced me to the special "custom" lyrics created by his friend John Seabury. Tommy told me that it was a semi-surreal experience to be playing a pick-up gig at some tony yacht club while John provided the following lyrical interpretation:

It was July the 7th, 1983
I was doin' time for armed sodomy
Four o'clock in the mornin'
I was jerkin' off in my cell
I heard the whistle blow
I heard somebody yell
There's a riot goin' on

My love of "alternate universe" versions of classic songs owes a lot of Frank Zappa, who did this kind of thing a lot. A good example is Plastic People from the Absolutely Free album. Zappa simple took Louie Louie and added new lyrics, which, in a real crowd pleasing manner, lampoon the audience. I marveled at idea that Louie Louie could live again in a mutated form. The dumbness of this instantly recognizable song, coupled with the acid observations of Zappa's new lyrics, was a startling statement. It still is. I hope Zappa cut Louie Louie composer Richard Berry in on the royalties.

Willie Did the Cha-Cha
Johnny Otis followed up his hit Willie and the Hand Jive with this great story song, which must have tanked. Uncle Tom introduced this to me. The song details Willie's skill with the Cha-Cha, which brings him into direct conflict with Chico, the owner of Chico's Shack. I won't spoil the ending by giving you too many details. I like the way 60s artists milked popular songs by releasing records that were virtually photocopies of the original hit. It closely resembles the process used with movies today. The subsequent versions tend to do about as well as Jaws III. The early 60s hit Mashed Potato was immediately followed up by Gravy. Probably my all-time favorite series is the Rufus Thomas "Dog" 45s for Stax/Volt, which attempted to build on Thomas' hit Walkin' the Dog. Titles included Do the Dog, Can Your Monkey do the Dog and the climax, My Dog Died. I want KDOG to learn all these great R&B songs and sprinkle them throughout the set. Either that or combine them all into one monstrously crowd pleasing half-hour Dog medley.
©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

KDOG Playlist, Part Two

More on the KDOG rockin' repertoire, which has been described by The Long Suffering Mrs. Chance as mostly not dance-worthy. Oh, well.

Walkin' Blues
This song is ancient. There are a million covers. Son House, I think, recorded it first. He certainly did a lot to popularize it during the blues revival of the 60s. Our version is based on the great Paul Butterfield recording featuring Mike Bloomfield on guitar. I'm never happy when I listen to recordings of KDOG playing it. Kenton and I can never seem to get the little syncopated accents right. Without them, the arrangement is boring. I sing this one, too. I think I should have Nick sing it. He sounds more like 'Butter.' I should concentrate on playing it correctly.
In our live shows, this tune frequently mutates into "Aluminum Walker Blues," with ad-libbed references to orthopedic shoes, Dr. Scholl's corn treatments, hip replacements, colostomy bags and other meditations on aging. This lack of reverence for one of the holy artifacts of the genre drives any "blues police" in the audience nuts. Audiences these days are so totally jaded, you could stage a real human sacrifice onstage and barely generate yawns. No reaction is the most depressing reaction of all. But mocking the cultural pieties of the audience can still work wonders. For example, if you suspect your audience is heavily larded with conservative talk show fans, open your show by coming out dressed as Rush Limbaugh, strip naked except for a giant diaper and start shoving Oxycontin pills up your ass while singing anti-war songs.
My brother-in-law, Tommy Dunbar, is the lead guitarist and main song writer for the great Berkeley-based power pop band, The Rubinoos. The band still tours and records. But these days, Tommy spends a lot of his time making radio commercials and advertising jingles with me. The band's second gig at Winterland in San Francisco in 1974 is a great example of getting a reaction by tweaking the musical tastes of your audience.
"It was really the Jefferson Starship's audience," Tommy said. "It was a Sounds of the City show, more of a hard-rock crowd. We were the opening act, so people were just sort of filing in. We were just playing our own, you know, mediocre originals, like Chokin on a Rag and Ode to a Bamboo Leaf, the instrumental opus. But then we played Heartbeat It's A Love Beat by Little Tony DeFranco and the Defranco Family. Some people started booing. People were realizing what that was and knew it was something they didn't like. Then we went back to playing a couple of more originals so people were, you know, not noticing again. Then we go into Sugar Sugar by the Archies and Jonathan Richman gets up on stage and starts doing 'The Archie,' with like his face up on the giant screen. I don't even know what he was doing at the show. I mean, we knew him. We'd already been playing with him. Anyway, "Sugar Sugar" pushed them over the top. You know... 'boooooooooo!' Fuuuuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuuuuuuuu!' They were throwing Coke cups with ice in 'em. I believe we went straight from that into Pepsi Generation, which really pushed them over the edge"
Jon Rubin, the lead singer and inspiration for the band's name, said both his girlfriend at the time, Missy, and his mother were in the audience. He said Missy yelled at some guy who was booing.
"She just said to this guy who was booing, 'Shadddduuup, this is his mother,'" Jon told me. "The guy ended up apologizing."
I love this story. I've Tommy tell it to me so many times I have remind him about parts he's leaving out.
Tommy said the band just shrugged it off.
"You'd sort of think that getting a hostile reaction from that many people would unnerve you," Tommy told me. "But actually, it was kind of like, well, that didn't hurt, you know what I mean? So I guess we can just do anything we want. And that was cool to get a reaction. Because up until then, everybody was like, 'who cares?' Then all of a sudden, they cared."

Close to You
We do Stevie Ray Vaughan's arrangement of this Willie Dixon tune, which features some bizarre lyrical imagery such as "I want to get close to you baby as a pig is to pork" and "close to you baby as Siamese twins." Every velvet-tounged lothario knows that chicks dig pork and birth defect metaphors. For this song to work, Kenton "KDOG" Lee has to really nail a shuffle that manages to be lazy and driving at the same time. I cop the basic moves from Stevie Ray's solo and great rhythm playing. Nothing is technically too difficult. What's hard is approximating Vaughan's incredible feel. The song is about passion and Vaughan makes a burning statement. KDOG records all gigs and most rehearsals. Listening to my version of this song causes me pain. I sound pallid, tentative and a lot like a guy who's not going to get laid. Plus I keep fumbling the turnaround riff. Also, the band tends to rush. Speeding up during a song is a mortal sin, especially in blues. Tommy Dunbar calls the tendency to rush 'White Boy Disease.' We've got it. Also, I think 'White Boy Disease' is a great song title.

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

KDog Playlist, Part One

The KDOG playlist is drawn from classic blues and rock, plus several originals that fit those genres. Usually, playing originals kills the party for most bar bands. When it's a song they don't know, people stop dancing. They also seem to stop drinking. With blues, however, one song sounds a lot like another. Is it an original? Or an obscure classic? Who knows? This is the first of several posts on this fascinating subject. The songs aren't selected with a target listener or market in mind; we just play songs we like. They say that genius pleases itself. I have also noticed the same thing about total failures and 14 year old boys.

Hippy Hippy Shake
We often open with this. The original is by Chan Romero, an extremely obscure Hispanic rocker in the mold of Richie Valens and Buddy Holly. Romero's vocal is a helium-influenced take on Holly's vocal mannerisms. Paul McCartney heard this record and immediately added the song to the Beatles live sets. You can hear the Fab Four's version on Live at the BBC. Even McCartney can't top Romero's manic vocal, however. I sing this one. I had to move the key down a 5th from E to A. I wish I could do the song in the original key. Changing the key often changes the "flavor" of a song in some mysterious way. In A, Hippy Hippy Shake doesn't sound as vibrant and sunny. It's not just a matter of being "lower." I asked a piano player who has perfect pitch about this phenomenon. She told me that changing the key brings in a new set of tones and sonic relationships. It's like seeing a familiar painting, but with a whole new color palette. She also said that it isn't out-of-tune notes that drive her nuts; it's hearing songs in a different key than she's used to. "I absolutely can't stand that," she said.

Urban Spawning
This is an original by Nick "Sewer Boy" Ciani, our harmonica player and dynamic male vocalist. (He works for the sewer department for the City of Sacramento. We sometimes call him "Norton" for this reason.) Urban Spawing, also known as Big Fish, concerns the universal male problem of finding a female who will let you fertilize her eggs. I have always loved Nick's surreal take on blues lyrics. Most modern blues lyrics simply recycle "my woman done me wrong" cliches. Nick's lyrics are more poetic, personal and obscure. When I listen to his songs, I have no idea what's going on, something I wish I could say about more music these days. (You don't need Cliff Notes to decipher the lyrical implications of Snoop Dog's new single, which is that he very much likes pussy.)
Sample from Urban Spawning:

Venus and Mars were that summer among the stars
In the Western Night
And so Mercury, the bearer of bad news
Was in his winged flight
And all to tell me honey
You just weren't right.
Urban Spawning/Big Fish ©2006 Nicholas John Ciani

Lyrics aren't poetry. (Write out the lyrics to Be-Bop-A-Lu-La sometime. Take them to a coffee house and read them aloud. Even pot smokers will boo you.) But somehow, Nick makes this kind of imagery work in the context of the song. Urban Spawing is a contrafact of the T-Bone Walker song Stormy Monday. A contrafact is a song that uses the same chord changes as the source material, but changes the melody and words. (You can't copyright harmony; just melody and words.) Contrafacts are common in all forms of music. Hundreds of hip jazz tunes are based on the chord changes to I Got Rythm. Every 12 bar blues song is basically a contrafact. (I think this is the correct word and spelling. I can't find it in my reference material right now.) For my solo, I mix together some of the Stormy Monday licks played by Duane Allman and Dickey Betts from The Allman Brothers Band Live at Fillmore East. Stormy Monday is a T-Bone Walker composition, but a lot of people feel that Bobby Bland's version is the definitive one. You can find it on Bland's album Turn on Your Love Light. Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top says Wayne Bennett's solo on this version is his favorite guitar solor of all time: "Impeccable tone, taste and tricks of time, all wrapped up in 12 bars. What else do you need?"

Rattle Snake Shake
The original version of Fleetwood Mac was probably the finest pure blues band England ever produced, led by the prodigious digits of Peter Green. How good was Green? When Eric Clapton left John Mayall's Bluesbreakers to form Cream, Mayall tapped Green for the lead guitar job. Green wrote "Black Magic Woman." The Mac's original version is brutally funky, with a fantastic lead vocal by Green himself. Carlos Santana based his sound and career on Green's crying Les Paul sustain. Prove this to yourself by listening to Green's spooky tone on The Supernatural from the Bluesbreakers album A Hard Road. Rattlesnake Shake is another Green classic. It does not concern snakes in the literal sense. It's about having to jerk off when your woman isn't in the mood. You can view a fantastic version of Green and the original Mac men playing this on Hugh Hefner's "Playboy After Dark" TV Show. (How appropriate. A ode to male self love sung for the man who made so much of it possible.) This is one blues song I can sing with total authority. Listening to my version of Rattle Snake Shake one night at the Stoney End, my friend Zack turned to the Long Suffering Mrs. Chance and said "Is he trying to humliate you?" Some of our friends from church were also there. What fun we all have!

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Four Strings Down

Kenton and I officially decided to bail on the Toy Run gig. I may drop by the Stoney to check out the Fryed Brothers and buy their CDs.
I called Al with the news. He sounded relieved. He and Ben are already playing two gigs on Thanksgiving weekend. I had no idea how busy Al and Ben were. They've got gigs lined up all through the holidays.
"We're doing too much," Al told me. "It's cutting into the family time. That's important to me. I really want to focus on our band."
They're going to play our Dec. 9th show at the Stoney. It could well be their last gig. Al told me he's waiting to hear news of a regular gig they might land. If that comes through, they're pulling out of our New Year's Show with the Fryed Brothers.
Once again, we're without a bass player with a big show coming up. Bass player-free outfits such as the White Stripes, the Black Keys and the John Spencer Blues Explosion are in vogue right now. But it always sounds thin and incomplete to me. It's like a pizza with no cheese. The foundation is missing. I'm a bass player myself. I guess that has something to do with it.
"I wish we could clone you," Kenton told when I called him.
Ever the gentleman, Al promised to help us find a substitute bass player. He said he'd be open to filling in any time he's not busy.
That seems unlikely. I couldn't believe how busy Al and Ben were. They play all over, with a heavy emphasis on casinos and retirement events.
It struck me that classic rock bands will soon take over the role of the old swing bands: playing for the shuffleboard and golf set at retirement homes. Everyone will be hard of hearing, so maybe we'll finally get requests to "turn it up."
It's becoming depressingly obvious that I'm not hip any more. I guess I was in denial. Blue is best played by old guys. But we're not a pure blues band, either.
These facts, however, do not lessen the obligation to rock. Howlin' Wolf was doing his wild stage act until the week before he died, despite multiple heart attacks and kidney failure that required dialysis three times a week. His antics included crawling around on fours like a wolf, cupping his genitals with a large kitchen spoon during "Spoonful" and the tried-and-true Coke bottle routine, described in Moanin' at Midnight: The Life and Times of Howlin' Wolf by James Segrest and Mark Hoffman.
"The Coke bottle trick was also one of Muddy's (Muddy Waters) favorites. Wolf would shake up a bottle, stick it down the front of his pants, saunter up to the microphone, tantalizingly unzip his fly, pop the bottle top and 'accidentally' spray the crowd."
By the 1970s, Wolf was old. He wasn't what the music industry wanted any more. Others made millions with the music he invented. But he just refused to give up or let circumstances control him.
"Even when he was sick, Wolf would always give 100 percent" one of his band members told Wolf's biographers. "In his mind, he could do it all the time. He was that type of man. He just had so strong a belief in music and what he was doing that he wouldn't even let his health be no object to hold him back."
In his book Lost Highway, Peter Guralnick wrote, "It was a little like James Brown with his cape, but this was real life, a continuing and weird drama of affirmation."
Al said he'd know his future plans by the weekend.
"I don't like to play the blues all night long," Al said. "I'm not into it. I like more variety."
I respect Al and Ben. They're 60 and 57 respectively. Yet they're starting up a new rock band and making plans to play five or more nights a week. I should tell them to try the Coke bottle routine.
Kenton told me he already has a possible new bass player lined up, an associate of his from advertising sales named Jim Keller. Jim last played in a band that specialized in Johnny Winter covers, so he should know the basic blues bag. We'll try him out this coming Monday.
Who knows?

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

All Hail the Stoney End

Our housekeeper, Evil Chemical Jeff, is a bon vivant and club hound. (This first sentence is a clue that you're not dealing with the typical starving musician.) Jeff earned his nickname because he is often in the grip of a "contact high" caused by his use of high-powered cleaning products. When Jeff heard that we were playing at the Stoney End, he told the Long Suffering Mrs. Chance, "Oh my God. That's a total gang-banger place. They're going to get killed."
I try not to overreact to these alarmist comments, which I have to listen to more and more these days. Jeff might be genuinely concerned for my welfare. Or it could just be the grout cleaner he's been inhaling all morning. Also: "Evil Chemical Jeff" is a great song title.
"You're only in physical danger if you order the nachos," I used to say, trying to laugh off these nay sayers. I had to drop this joke after actually eating the Stoney End nachos, which were excellent in every way. I also feel the tacos and the fried catfish nuggets are among the best bar food in town. One of the perks of "being in the band" is that I sometimes eat for free. My "pay" also includes, so far, 27 free Heinekens.
Frankly, I'm starting to get tired of people dumping on this true and original "House of Blues." Isn't the Stoney End, in fact, exactly what a great blues and rock bar should be? It's dark, shabby, with a delicate perfume of frying oil. Isn't this great institution a monument to authenticity in a country of sanitized franchises where the Olive Garden is thought to be an actual Italian restaurant?
The great blues bars of Chicago that showcased Muddy Waters, Howlin' Wolf, Little Walter and many others were genuinely dangerous places where nearly everybody arrived armed to the teeth. Knife fights and shootings were common. Does anybody really think the Chicago Blues could have emerged as one of the world's great musical art forms if the venues in the South Side were limited to Starbucks and TGI Fridays?
The Stoney isn't anywhere near this wild. I have yet to see a police-worthy incident.
The "Big Room" at the Stoney End is the most unique live music showcase in town. This area used to be an outdoor patio. But they finally had to build an enclosure after irate neighbors complained about the racket. I love the sound quality of this room. There's a big dance floor in front of the stage. It can get hot in the summer. Our first gig in this room occurred on during a heat wave that killed old people all over Sacramento. The KDOG bass player at the time was quite obese. I thought he might actually drop dead during the 3rd set. (He quit the band. That was his first and last gig. My tribute to the man now known only as "SFF" will appear later.) My Les Paul ended up caked with dried sweat. The strings rusted through at the bridge. When I tried to tune up the next day, they snapped. When it was all over, I felt like I'd really been baptized.
My opinion: the Stoney is exactly the right venue for KDOG to develop its blues rock sound in a live setting. Yes, the hip hop events aren't a good fit. But I'm sure that rappers blame us for attracting the "wrong crowd," too. Whatever happens, I will always consider this monument to booze and blues home. The drinks are strong, the patrons are friendly and I have never seen a man holding a Cosmopolitan. Walking into the Stoney, I am always whisked back to my favorite bars in my hometown of Springfield, Ill. - The Alamo, Two Brothers and The Glenarm Tavern.
I wish I could say that KDOG was doing as much for The Stoney as The Stoney is doing for KDOG.
Our residency at the Stoney End is not an example of the free market working its will. They're subsidizing us. Kenton is friends with Mike "Stoney Mike" Aguilar, the owner. The managers and staff are all kind and supportive. They like the music and make an effort to get us good gigs, such as the Toy Run, even thought that one looks like it's not going to work out. (We are scheduled to open for the Fryed brothers on New Year's Eve. Exposure to this venerable band's rabid fan base is the best break we've gotten this year.)
The Stoney has not reaped many economic benefits from these efforts. KDOG fan base is still embryonic.
It's not for lack of trying. Kenton KDOG Lee is a salesman who brings a berserk style of enterprise to everything he does. He sold radio ads in Sacramento for 25 years. He assembled a huge e-mail list, created electronic fliers and even paid for radio spots on the local classic rock station out of his own pocket. It's just a tough sell. And I don't think the thin turnouts are the result of people who are scared silly by the thought of Del Paso Boulevard.
One problem is the mailing list. It consists of the band's friends. These people aren't our real target market. Like us, they're in their 30s, 40s and even 50s. They're professionals. Many of them have small kids. The days of clubbing and partying are over. They have other priorities on Friday and Saturday night. And when they do come out, they're not exactly a club owner's dream. They have a couple of drinks and leave early. They're not going to show up for every gig and line the bar with flaming tequila shots. The women are unlikely to respond to exhortations to "show us your tits."
The KDOG "business plan" needs to consider this problem. Who will consitute our best customers? Gov't Mule Fans? Bikers? Blues hounds? Well, we're not really a blues band. We'll either have to fix "the product" or focus on a different "customer." All are typical marketing problems.
Monday (last night) is KDOG rehearsal night at the legendary Mojo Dojo and Hair Care Product Storage Facility. It's a large industrial storage space near the Wonderbread Bakery that we sublease from a friend of Kenton's who owns a hair salon. They mix up some kind of industrial strength shampoo or conditioner in there. The sweet, overwhelming fragrance soaks into everything. Our PA speaker columns are covered in a fuzzy, tear-resistant cloth that now smells exactly like that hair stuff.
Only Nick Ciani and I were there. Nick is the KDOG harmonica player, chief song writer and our dynamic male vocalist. I hadn't heard from Al or Ben, our current bass and keyboad players. They haven't responded to my e-mails. I didn't get the numbers from Kenton before he left for Tennessee. That's the second rehearsal they've skipped.
"After the last gig, Al told me he was on board for the next few gigs, but that he wanted to do his own thing after that and that he wasn't really in the band," Nick told me. So, I can't say I'm surprised. I tell you, though Dean, we are just one bass player away from really taking off."
He may be right. We listened to a cassette tape of the last Stoney End gig. The band sounded remarkably tight, for the most part. I didn't cringe nearly as much listening to my guitar solos or singing. Al and Ben added a lot, but the core Dogs - Kenton, Nick and myself - sounded strong. It gave my evening a little lift.
I need a lift. I don't think Kenton is going to be happy with the results of leaving the band in my hands. I negotiated ourselves out of our biggest gig to date and failed to accomplish anything at rehearsal. Oh well.
Nick and I played a bit, just guitar and harmonica. We also worked out a new song called "Doin' My Cousin." I had started the lyrics months ago. Nick contributed a final verse on Monday. The song used be called "Fuckin' my Cousin," but, artistically, we decided this title was a little too "on the nose." It's important not to fill in all the blanks for the listener. As a great short story writer once said, "when setting a trap, one must leave room for the mouse." Also, we don't want people to think we're one of those potty-mouth groups that are ruining this country for clean-living Americans.

©2006 Edward Dean Chance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED