Geezer Rock

Marlowe, Goethe, Campbell & Ciani

Drew skipped rehearsal last night to attend a family function, so Philip sat in on bass. He really seemed to enjoy himself. Philip, the fearless KDOG sound man, is trained on keyboards. But he can wheedle a little music out of almost any instrument. He showed a real flair for locking up tight with Kenton's kick drum as we ran down "Bug Eye Willie," "Mother In Law Blues," "All Grown Up," "She's Tuff" and "Hootchie Coochie Man." We even tried out some new material: "Twenty Yards Behind," "Casting My Spell" and Bo Diddley's arrangement of "I Can Tell." If Drew can't make the gig, we've got our backup guy. "I'll play from behind the soundboard!" Philip said.

"I love the band," Nick said as we went to pick up pizzas on our break. (Plenty of anchovies on the side. When I woke up this morning, my armpit sweat smelled like cat food.) I love the band, too. God knows we've nearly killed each other more than once. The tensions and rivalries make the Sunni-Shiite schism look like a summer camp sing-a-long. And yet, somehow, we've started working as a unit, instead of like four guys with conflicting agendas.

"When's our next gig?" Drew asked me the other night when I saw him at the McClatchy High School Winter Concert. (My son, Brett, played cornet in the jazz band and Drew's daughter, Abby, played upright bass in the concert band. Nothing is cooler than a girl who plays the big doghouse.) "I'm actually looking forward to it." 

When he found out that band wasn't booked until April, Drew arranged for us to play at Marilyn's on Saturday, Jan. 17. Drew's other two bands are the openers. That's good. I think we can get a lot more people. He's going to feel like a whipped mule by the end of the night: he's looking at 5 hours of playing and singing.

Bug Eye Willie: Bastard or Voodoo Child?

Kenton and Nick told me they'd worked on a new ending for "Bug Eye Willie" last night. They're right: it is only half a song. It's like a movie that ends in the middle:

Sad little song

An American tragedy

Tell you the story of Bug Eye Willie

Boy's so dumb most folks call him silly

Daddy was a rabbit

He liked running the ridges

His momma like sunning what she kept in her britches

One day his momma was cooking a brew

Rabbit said let me lick that while I'm lovin' you

Momma said don't touch that it's gettin hot

Rabbit said let me be the judge of that

Rabbit started slippin' and slidin' in the messy love goo

Bug Eye Willie said hey man I'm in here somewhere too

One day Mark came for the twins plus one

Bug Eye Willie figured himself likewise a son

He went callin' out to daddy Mark

Mark said no your Daddy was an aardvark

I agree with Kenton. The song can't end with Willie can't end with the bastard being rejected by the father. In Kenton's new version, Willie kicks his dad's ass. I thought this had Oedipal overtones and that Willie should then impregnate his mother. Kenton wasn't thinking on those terms. He wanted to turn it into a Clint Eastwood movie. Nick wasn't sure about this. "I always thought it was like 'Faust' - a tragedy," Nick said. "It started out as Marlowe's 'Dr. Faustus' and now it's Geothe's  version."

In Marlowe's play, Faust is goes to hell and his torn apart by demons. Geothe's rigs the plot to Dr. Faustus gets into heaven. "Suddenly, he's the hero."

"That's it," I said. "Willie needs to make the hero's journey, like Luke Skywalker in Star Wars. Or like Jimi Hendrix in real life. In New York, Hendrix is nobody. People laugh at him. Then he goes to England and blows everybody's mind and comes back as the biggest badass guitar player and showman on the Earth. That's the plot of 'Hear My Train a'Comin'"

Dig 
Gonna leave this town, yeah 
Gonna leave this town 
Gonna make a whole lotta money 
Gonna be big, yeah 
Gonna be big, yeah 
I'm gonna buy this town 
I'm gonna buy this town 
An' put it all in my shoe 
Might even give a piece to you 
That's what I'm gonna do, 
what I'm gonna do, 
what I'm gonna do

So that's it. Willie either kills his dad right then and pleasures himself with his mother. Or he does a Luke Skywalker by leaving as a twerp and coming back as a Jedi, kills Daddy Darth Vadar and then...well, I guess it's the same plot.

This all proves two things:

• Star Wars is a dirty movie.

• Nobody who's ever been to college should be allowed to have anything to do with a rock and roll band.

Bono Sells Furniture

This is an outtake from a jingle session Tommy and I did for a furniture store back in the days when people were still buying durable goods like furniture. Oh, what a time that was! I had a houseful of servants and each of my servants was assisted by a staff of trained monkeys.

Anyway, Jack Gallagher called while we were working and we immediately requested his best Bono impersonation, which seemed to fit - especially delivered over a Radio Shack speaker phone. Download Bono Sells Furniture

Iron Horse Plaza, Dec. 13 2008

We played our third shopping mall gig of the year on Saturday. The last two were at The Fountains in Roseville this summer. We played near the dancing fountain and light show. The fountain drew a bigger crowd than we did both times, although we did better the second time. Drew seemed awe-stricken by the experience. "I can't believe I'm playing at a fucking shopping mall," he kept saying over and over as we set up, stunned by how far he's come in such a short time.

Yesterday's gig was a promotion at Iron Horse Plaza in Danville. The usual stuff: raffles, gourmet food samples, free blood pressure checks.

The center's layout didn't leave much room for the band. The result was one of the most surreal gigs we've yet played. We set up under a tent in, yes, the shopping cart return area of the grocery store. We literally played under the sign that said "Return Carts Here." The band faced, not the parking lot, but the two lane main entrance to the plaza. Cars drove back in forth inches in front of us all day. Drew near passed out from belting out tunes while bathed in exhaust fumes from the cars and from the gas-powered generator running our rig. We had a video guy with us shooting some promotional footage for our website. He described the visuals as "extremely surreal." Grumpy shoppers with cart loads of groceries had to get back to their cars by squeezing between the bellowing PA columns and subwoofers and the the main traffic artery. I could have reached out and lifted loaves of bread and cartons of eggs right out of their bags, they were so close. People winced and tried to plug their ears.

Some players might let a gig like this destroy their morale. They might even give up! It is hard to believe how far short of rock glamor we fall by playing in a bush league band like KDOG. But, like Tommy always says: "What - and quit show business?"

Other highlights of another incredibly day in rock and roll:

• The band, plus Philip, gathered at my house to load up at the non-rockin' hour of 8 a.m.
• We didn't forget anything. But I did have to buy duct tape at the grocery store.
• Drew lost his book of lyric cheat sheets. This forced him to wing it. He didn't get all the words right. But singing without a music stand looks more rock and roll. Reading lyrics off the stand makes you look like you're delivering a talk to the Rotary Club.
• The mall's owner - and a client of Kenton's - was a genial fellow named Don. Don's company owns 50 malls and shopping centers. He is not a man who sleeps well of late.  
• We experienced a short rain delay. About half the gear, including the sound board and power array, got covered with raindrops, despite the tent. "This is how I want to go," I said. "Fried like bacon in the shopping cart return area of a grocery store."
• I made an extra 50 bucks as emcee for a stupid pet tricks contest. Two of the judges were members of The Oakland Raiderettes, who I kept referring to as "The Raisinettes." (Amusing quip I kept to myself due to rampant family ambiance: "I LOVE to eat Raisinettes!") The grand prize was a year's worth of dog food. "There is a catch," I told the winner. "No matter how tough things get in this economy, this food is only for your dog, got it?"
• Unloading the gear later, Philip complimented the band for self-control of our sound and showmanship. "I didn't feel the need to set at the board constantly making adjustments," he said. You were all self-regulating." He noted that the lack of fooling around between songs "really helped" the presentation. "You're making it look much easier."
• Risking my life by stepping into the traffic lanes, I stepped out in front of the so-called stage to check the sound and balance.  It sounded good! On stage, I can never really tell what's going on. It's like the fog of war: you don't know what's going on when you're in the middle of it.
• It was my turn to screw up "Bad Little Doggie." I missed one of the transitional riffs in the middle. Nobody noticed. They were in their cars. 
• After unloading a 6:30 p.m., Philip and I hustled to St. John's. We're in a little choir that's singing at the "Candles and Carols" concert on Sunday. The Long-Suffering Mrs. Chance was there too. We rehearsed our two big numbers for a small group of people who wandered in for the church's Second Saturday open house. We then sang Christmas carols by request for an hour. I tried to sight-read the bass harmony parts. I sounded sort of like a foghorn with a dead goose stuck in it. Ah, music!
• The KFOG radio promotion guy said he liked the band and wanted us to play some KFOG events in San Francisco this summer, since our playlist lines up with KFOG play list. We'll see if this actually happens. It's hard to imagine that a San Francisco radio station would have to import a band from Sacramento to nail a classic rock vibe. Maybe it's KDOG every day low pricing policy. The poetic synergy between "KDOG" and "KFOG" may help. What better name for the radio station house band. We'd be just like "The Shindogs" - the great house band on the 60s TV show Shindig, led by the legendary guitarist James Burton. 
• A live recording a KDOG did supply the music track for the radio spots promoting the Iron Horse event throughout the Bay Area on KFOG. I guess that's sort of a wow. 
• People did seem to like the band, even though they couldn't get near the stage without getting flattened by the luxury sedans streaming in and out of the parking lot all day. Of course, nobody danced. Even with the free wine samples, nobody danced. People just can't seem to achieve the condition of "boogie fever" in a shopping cart return area. 
• Nick continues to attract nutty older chicks. During one break, I found him at the win table with a 60ish lady who threw a fit when she was refused a cup of wine because she didn't have a wrist band. She started ranting about "living in police state" where you can't even get a glass of wine without following all kinds of fascistic wristband rules. Nick made Drew give this suburban Fidel Castro his wrist band. The people at the wine table poured her a plastic cup of wine, which she poured on the ground because she forgot that her doctor told her not to drink wine. 

  ©2008 Edward Dean Chance. All Rights Reserved. (Is this mumbo jumbo even necessary?) Check out the offical KDOG website.

Sweet Artist Deal

Tommy and Jon Rubin have an artist deal with Fender that entitles them to buy gear at cost - about half of what they'd pay at guitar center. They ordered a couple of custom made Stratocasters. Cool enough. I was not jealous. I have a cool guitar already. I'm addicted to amps. My dream is to own one guitar and all of my favorite amps. (All Fender tweeds. Originals or boutique reissues. Nothing over 30 watts.)

Then Tommy got the itch to buy the recently released 1965 Princeton Reverb Reissue, having become insanely jealous of mine. (It is the best reissue of the classic blackface designs that Fender makes - sweet, dimensional, hi-fi, with an incredible musical reverb. Not exactly the same as really good original, but close. An amazing accomplishment considering that the reissue uses a printed circuit board and other modern "improvements.") Tommy was about to go to Guitar Center (Slogan: "We have one of everything - we just don't know where it is.") to buy one for $800, when he decided to call his Fender rep to see if the artist gravy covered amps, too. "Oh sure," the guy chirped. "Those are available. I get one out to you today!" Total cost: $400. The amp arrived two days later. It's every bit as magnificent tonally as mine. I have resisted being jealous of Tommy's full-time professional guitar slinger lifestyle, since the existence of the professional musician is often a poverty-stricken, mortifying grind. But this - now I'm jealous.

© 2008. All rights reserved. Like anyone's going to steal this crap.

Retarded Chihuahua

On Wednesday, July 9, the family and I returned from Columbia , where we'd gone to visit the exchange student who lived with us for most of 2007. My stomach still felt like it had a tree growing in it, the result of a volcanic case of tourista. I violated every precept of safe eating on the trip, consuming raw, unpeeled fruit, non-pasteurized cheese, drinks with ice cubes and lettuce. Thanks to Cipro, I avoided permanent latrine duty, save for one highly entertaining 24-hour period in Bogota. I prayed to every god I could think of for relief, even the ones with multiple arms and extra eyeballs.

On Thursday, Kenton and I had a church band rehearsal, followed by consecutive KDOG gigs on Friday and Saturday. Then, of course two church gigs on Sunday: the contemporary service at 11:30 am and the ultra-feely FLOW service at 5 p.m. This brutal schedule of musical activities made me as happy as a kid with a new bike.

I prepared for the Friday night gig at Swabbies by taking two slugs of Pepto Bismol for insurance. I was planning to assault my digestive tubing with the excellent tacos at Swabbies and had no interest in duplicating the famous story Joe Walsh tells about simultaneously crapping his pants and throwing up while on stage in London with The James Gang. The roadies rigged up a towel like a giant diaper to hide the stains on Walsh's pants. Joe never stopped playing. The crowd went nuts at this bit of showmanship, but I preferred to stick to my more traditional stage antics.

Favorite moment: Nick showed up wearing a t-shirt he'd made. It featured a picture of a retarded chihuahua and "KDOG" in block letters. The dog sort of looked like Kenton. I knew Kenton would go berserk when he saw the shirt. "Why do you insist on baiting him like this?" I asked Nick. People loved the shirt, though. "You know, we could probably sell 30 of those things tonight if we had them," I told Drew. I thought we should change "KDOG" to "Que Dog," though. I'd still like to produce this design.

Kenton laughed when he finally saw the shirt, but threatened to rip it off Nick's body if he dared to take the stage wearing it. I thought Kenton should let Nick wear the shirt. But, then, it's not my name. I suppose I'd feel differently if Nick showed up in a shirt that said "Dean" over a color photograph of a bulldog's asshole.

©2008 Edward Dean Chance. All Rights Reserved. 

Rubinoos Fact Check

I woke up this morning to an e-mail from Greg Keranen - bassist, Rubinoos co-founder and former member of Jonathan Richman and The Modern Lovers.

Greg offered some corrections to my interview with Tommy and the history of the Rubinoos.

Hi,
I'm Greg Keranen, original Rubinoos co-founder, bassist.

I enjoyed your interview with Tommy - stumbled upon it in the course of doing some research into my own personal history.

It is really hard remembering details, but here are a few things to add to and/or correct what Tommy said.
(my date convention is year.month.day - sorts alphabetically that way)
---
1968.12 (ca.) 
Brother Buzz Memorial Blues Band formed - Greg Keranen (g, vo) Tommy Dunbar (g) Ralph Granich (d) 

1970.04.10 
Ralph Granich gets sick with regional enteritis and is in hospital, then bedridden for months; can't go to school High school journal 
Tommy and I decide to try and find a new drummer but continue to jam in the garage during lunch time, but get tired having to always ask for the key to the garage from Ralph's father 
I make a surreptitious copy of the garage door key; it gets stuck in the lock the first time I try to use it; I get caught by Ralph's Dad and am big trouble 

1970.10 (approx) 
Formed The Rubinoos, v.1 as an OLDIES band - Greg Keranen (b, vo) Tommy Dunbar (g, vo) Jon Rubin (vo, g) Alex Carlin (kbd, vo) Ralph Granich (d) 
- my Jr. High school journal - First mention of Rubinoos occurs 1970.11.19 

The origin of the name "The Rubinoos" - I remember the day we decided on the name, lying around at Tommy's house.
Our favorite bands were the Ronettes, Shangri-Las, Shirelles, etc. - almost all girl groups.
We couldn't be called the Rubinettes, since we were a bunch of guys.
As it happens, we had developed a private language of substituting the long-o syllable 'oo' for 'y' ... it's kind of a convoluted story that goes back to when I was 3 years old or so and my Mom says I insisted in saying 'dog-oo' instead of 'doggy', when seeing a dog.

This linguistic tradition came into play when Tommy, Jon and I were in Jr. High together in Berkeley - we were making fun of other kids, in particular, retarded kids. There was one kid named 'Bobby' who was sort of the model of being a 'retard' so we took off on that and created my personal character as 'Bobb-oo'; etc.

When the time came to name the band, we needed a suffix, so we chose 'Rubin-oos' in place of 'Rubin-ettes'
I don't recall that the 'Buckaroos' ever played a role in that decision, but it probably must have been an added reason, since Jon recalls that part.

1974.07 (?) 
Inaugural 'Sounds of the City' weekly Winterland concert series by Rubinoos, with guest appearance of Jonathan Richman, dancing to 'Sugar, Sugar', San Francisco, CA 
Bananas were thrown by many members of the audience during 'Sugar, Sugar' and Bill Graham was disgusted with our performance.
The lineup was: Rubinoos; Earthquake; Link Wray; Jefferson Starship (mystery guest - not billed, officially) 

Regards,
Greg

Blues on the Blacktop

Drew's 1st Anniversary!
Blues on the Blacktop 2007 was Drew's first gig with the band. It was a rough first day on the job for the new guy. Drew's main bag is singing. We immediately loaded him with the bulk of the songs - most of the numbers I had been singing, plus a few new ones he wanted to do. We forced him onto the stage before he knew all of the words or the bass parts. I recall that "Pride and Joy" was a particularly loathsome. That gig also marked the debut of the man we now call "The Fifth Dog," Philip Howard The Swiss Sound Hound. Philips job is to deliver that unique KDOG sound with punch and clarity, so every mistake can be clearly heard and enjoyed.

A year later, Drew and Philip are still around. God knows why. We're lucky the band is still around. On July 13, we played Blues on the Blacktop 2008. It's an office party the construction management firm on the first floor of Kenton's building throws. Although it's not his party, Kenton goes invests considerable time and treasure in making the gig happen. This year, he rented an even larger stage with a canopy, which meant I only played the first set getting char-broasted by the late afternoon sun. My friend Ron Pinkerton, on the way to Oregon to visit his granddaughter, took more than 300 photos of the show. Drew looks like an incredibly badass rock and roller. I look 15 years younger than I did last year. That was the end of my "old man" outfits. The idea was to look like a real geezer - to exaggerate myself. The outfits were scarily effective. I look like I'm 65 in the pictures. I wore plaid shorts, a too-tight short-sleeved dress shirt and black dress shoes with black socks. I thought this look was an analog for the schoolboy uniform worn by Angus Young with AC/DC. It never really worked. I just liked I was trying to hard: "Look at me! I'm old! Get it?" People can see I'm closing in on my expiration date. This time I wore jeans, white pimp shoes and a Dickie's work shirt with Lucky 13 iron ons. The patch over the left breast pocket reads "old speed." All that remained were the thick, black glasses. Those work, for some reason.
The energy this year was better. Not so negative. We laughed and played our way through the mistakes instead of screaming at each other and shooting dirty looks. As Nick says, "The first rule of show business is never stop smiling and entertaining, no matter what."
Verdict: tighter sound, more together, great singing from Drew. Still too many mistakes.

This is Utterly Exhausting
After loading up all the gear, Kenton's able assistant, Pamela, informed us that we had to take down the tent awning that sheltered the stage. Unofficial KDOG Krew members Cliff Lynch figured out the technique, with muscle supplied by Kenton and Nick Cliff's son, C.J.
"This is utterly exhausting," said Drew. I agreed. And if Drew and I had actually been helping, it would have been totally debilitating.
Nothing makes you feel less like a rock star than assembling and taking down your own stage. Especially after working a full day, then enduring the eight-hour ordeal of loading, setting up, tearing down and reloading. I don't know how many year's I'll be able to do this. We only go thought this twice a month, on average. And we're not driving between gigs for 8 to 12 hours.
I once talked to some kids in in punk band called the New Bomb Turks after their gig at the Capitol Garage. They'd driven from L.A. that day, put on a outrageously energetic show, then were loading the van for a 10 hour overnight drive straight through to Portland. All in one van. The singer seemed quite happy with the whole arrangement. This is why rock is a young man's game.

Way Down Upon The Swabbie's River

The first official nighttime gig at Swabbie's on the River was extremely successful - provided that you're not too picky about what constitutes extremely successful.
People are always giving PowerPoint presentations about excellence, but frankly I'd advise setting the bar low for your band. That way, the path to improvement is broad, firm and gently sloping.
Excellence takes time, it costs a lot of money and you have to be picky about who you let into the band. Mediocrity - which is defined as a "consistently low level of excellence" - is quicker, cheaper and there are more people who can deliver it.
Also, "KDOG: A Consistently Low Level of Excellence" would be an excellent band t-shirt. My other band t-shirt idea is "KDOG: Affordable Musical Entertainment for the Enormous Squatting Masses."
I discovered the phrase "enormous squatting masses" in a book on primate research. I am reading a lot of books about chimps in order to better understand the dynamics of the all-male rock band and the behaviors of its members.
I can't go into the details here, but I will say this: once you understand sperm competition and the male dominance hierarchy of chimpanzee society, the behavior of your drummer will suddenly make a lot more sense.
I hate hippies and I especially hate Woodstock, but I have to agree with Drew: "The Brown Acid is not Specifically Too Good" would also be a good t-shirt.
Points of interest:
• The I-5 closure meant that it took Drew and me 45 minutes to get the mini-van full of gear to Swabbie's.
• When we go there, Kenton's drums were almost completely set up! He had two people to help, plus he finally brought a sensible amount of equipment.
• Kenton drank beer. This is only remarkable because Kenton announced on Monday that he was quitting drinking for a year on his 57th birthday, which was on Tuesday. "I'm going to spend my 57th year alcohol free," he said. "Dean inspired me." (I quit drinking more than a year ago.) Friday before the gig, he came up to me, took a big hit off a bottle of Red Stripe and said, "Well, that lasted about 24 hours." One of Kenton's advertising clients had gone berserk and fired him for no good reason, creating a lot of stress.
• Nick blew his back out the day before. He could barely get in or out of bed. He couldn't carry anything and had to sit on a stool for the whole show. Actually, Kenton can't do any lifting, either. His bum shoulder can't take the strain. Our two-person "road crew" isn't a luxury - it's a medical necessity. I wonder if Blue Cross would pay for them. They're sort of like home care nurses. Or hospice professionals.
• The band, Philip the Swiss German Sound Man and the road crew set a new bar and food tab record for the year, beating out all other bands with a total of $158. That seems low for a record price.
• We got a good crowd of KDOG supporters, plus some new fans. The fact that Swabbie's is an all-ages place really helps. We actually earned enough cash to pay the sound and road crew. Yes, we are finally getting our price UP to free.
• We screwed up "You Don't Love Me Again." That's the last time. I've banned the song from our repertoire. There's a two break in the middle of each verse. During the guitar solo, we get lost. Everybody stops at a different time. I kept my emotions under control. Wrong reaction: "I am surrounded by idiots." Right reaction: "We meant to do that!"
• I unveiled an effective, cheap and easy gimmick: beer bottle slide. During "La Grange" I played slide with a full beer bottle. I let it foam all over the guitar. Then I poured the remaining beer all over the neck, grabbed a dry towel and continued playing while wiping off the beer. You just fret the notes through the towel. (It needs to be thin, like a tea towel, a shop rag or a cheap washcloth.) It's a not that tough, but it looks neat. I saw Danny Gatton do this on a YouTube video the day before the gig. I thought I'd try it. I don't have his facility, of course, but I pulled it off well enough.
• Kenton played very well. Nick was happy with harp sound. Drew got lost in the middle of "Cinnamon Girl." I blew a few riffs in "Bad Little Doggie." Big deal. We've finally learned the most important show business rule: never act like anything is wrong. Even if everyone is playing in a different key, just keep acting like you're having the time of your life. It works.
• Philip made a recording straight from our new firewire equipped digital mixing board. (That was another $800.) I haven't heard it yet. I'm not sure I want to. It's like weighing yourself on an accurate scale at the doctor's office. The reality never matches up with your imaginary body image. I'm hoping for a consistently low level of excellence.

Summer O' Swabbies Begins!

May I just say: Swabbies is my new home. I wish I could just live there in on of the junked trailers parked in the dirt.
We played for a friend's graduation party at Swabbies on the river yesterday from 1 to 4 p.m. This place is perfect for us. When Drew and I pulled the Mojo Mini Van full of gear into the gravel parking lot, Dru looked at the run down main building, the plastic tables, the river and all the dirt and perfectly articulated what I was feeling: "Yes. Hell yes. It's so grizzly."
And it is. It's a road house in the river. A dive. A place to have a good time. The stage is outdoors overlooking the river. I-5 looms overhead. The roar of cars and trucks provides a comforting white noise - and really fills out your band's sound. The staff is friendly and helpful, especially the manager Chris. I walked inside at 11 a.m. to the smells of biscuits, gravy, coffee, frying potatoes, cold concrete and wet dust. The memories of every great bar I've ever loved came rushing back. Swabbies especially reminds me of The Glenarm Tavern in Glenarm, Illinois. (The original one. Not the new one, although it is great, too.) It also reminds me of this place we used to go to in Bullpit, Illinois, which had great hamburgers and chili.
Swabbies signature dish is tacos. Their great fame is justified in every way. (I prefer the beef version.)
The bar and kitchen area is cramped. Most of the action happens outdoors. They set up a little bar outside on the grass. The stage is outdoors too, shaded by 50-foot trees. It's plywood. When you stomp on it, it sounds like a big drum. I used this exciting feature to count off songs.
We played a graduation party for my friend Darren Zinzer. Darren is 35 heads the youth ministry at St. John's Lutheran Church. He plays guitar and sings real good too. We've been playing together in the contemporary worship band at St. John's for five years.
Anyway, he got his degree in psychology and threw himself a party on the river because he has no friends to do it for him. Just kidding! Darren's many pals showed up, especially the St. John's contingent, including the Senior Pastor. Many of them actually brought their children. Çan a rock and roll band survive when its fan base is mostly Lutheran?
The day started with rain, an unusual feature for Sacramento on Memorial Day weekend. I thought the gig might be called off. Kenton was worried. He called no less than five times between 8 a.m. and 11 a.m. But we loaded up the stuff and went out anyway. It was cloudy on the river, but the dirt was dry. Chris told us it wouldn't rain. He was right.
An 80s rock band called Cinema 7 was due to play right after KDOG. This is always a potential problem. We've shared the bill with bands that have been quite hostile to us. Cinema 7s drummer Jeff Hayes showed up a half-hour after we did. We negotiated an agreement to help Jeff set up his enormous PA and use it for our sets to make the transition between band faster. Jeff is a jovial fellow who was grateful for the extra muscle power to help him unload, a job he normally does by himself. Jeff's PA is way bigger and better than ours. Philip the Swiss German Sound Man and Jeff engaged in a lot of technical talk. Philip really liked Jeff's gear. I sensed that Kenton and I will soon be spending more money on electronic items that I do not know how to operate. Or even plug in.
Nick wasn't with us. He's on a long-planned trip to San Diego and Mexico with his son Bobby. Kenton got made when he heard Nick was blowing off our first gig. Kenton gave Nick a big rant about "being committed to the band." Nick countered by pointing out that Kenton took his girlfriend on a Caribbean vacation, leaving us with no drummer for a big benefit gig at Fairytale Town. We didn't have a bass player at the time, either. Nick and I did the gig with my son Brett on drums.
So this meant no harmonica. And we couldn't do a bunch of songs that Nick sings. I did sing Nick's original "Bug Eyed Willie," which is an unusual song to sing to a bunch of Lutherans. Possibly offending phrases include:
• Britches
• Wet
• Love goo.
No Nick meant no harmonica solos. That meant I was going to have to play A LOT OF GUITAR. We were suddenly a power trio. I'm out of shape. We haven't been practicing much. Or playing gigs. I was sloppy as hell. I blew the end of "Bad Little Doggie." Every song featured some kind of guitar flubbage. I think these mistakes are obvious. But the typical person at a bar doesn't notice.
We played well. Especially Kenton. He brought smaller kit this time and played with great focus. No fills during sensitive vocal moments. No forgetting where he was in the song. He also did a great job of reacting to what was going on at the moment.
Kenton has really taken to heart the rock and roll maxim that "your band is only as good as your drummer." We've had a few heart-to-hearts on this subject. Like me, he's had to confront his musical shortcomings and start over with a new attitude. I sum up this attitude thusly: "I kind of suck, but I'm sure gonna make it sound good." This is my wording on the late blues guitarist Hound Dog Taylor, who suggest this for his gravestone: "He couldn't play for shit, but he sure made it sound good."
And we did sound good. I like playing outdoors because we don't have to deal with the bizarre acoustics of the typical bar. We don't sound so loud. Philip The Swiss German Sound man is incredibly picky and he seemed quite happy with the mix out front. Onstage, we never know what the audience is hearing for sure. It's like being in the middle of a battle. You can't tell what's going on amid the noise, smoke and the screams of the wounded. (In our case, the wounded are played by members of the audience who venture too close to the stage and suffer exploding eardrums.)
It was typical show for KDOG. We were background music. The afternoon is not a good time for dancing, although we did get a clutch on people on the dirt patch in front of the stage for "La Grange." Mostly people hung back, chatting, eating tacos and watching the kids. I'm used to entertaining vast expanses of empty chairs and flooring. I did a lot of my usual running around and jumping. Anybody who did look towards the stage should have something to look at. By 9 p.m., I felt like I'd spent two hours on a stair machine. I sort of molded and froze into the contours of the couch. Age.
Drew sang quite well. People love his voice. Kenton and I are singing less and less. This is a good thing. Kenton can't get within two miles of the right note. My voice is too thin and white for our material.
We wrapped up with one of the better versions of "One Way Out" that we've ever done. Then we hustled the gear off stage at 3:30 to make way for Cinema 7. They have a lot of gear. Technical difficulties meant they didn't drop the downbeat until almost 5 p.m. - an hour late. I felt guilty for interfering with their show. They really need to set up at 3 p.m. But they seemed unconcerned. Drew knew one of the female singers and her husband from when they worked together at a local print shop. We had a friendly chat. Jeff Hayes the drummer waved off my apologies. "No worries," he said "Just a few technical glitches. I really appreciate the help." Cinema 7 have been playing together for 20 years in various combinations. I guess they've seen it all by now.
Kenton has gradually scaled down the drums sets he brings to gigs. The size and scope of his drum rigs had become a running joke with our "fans." My friend Steve noted that Cinema 7s drum set was way larger and fancier then Kenton's. He couldn't believe it. "It didn't think that was possible," he said dryly. "Things are changing," I told him.

The KDOG Summer Tour: Geezerpalooza!

Summer 2008: Old Man Jam!
You're never too old to rock and roll, even though our typical show resembles a John McCain fundraiser. To prove it, KDOG has a busy summer of gigs. And our price is finally up to "free," in that we will not lose money. Of course, we are still in the hole. The start up costs for a band are quite high, especially when you're packing the world-famous $35,000 drum set with the legendary titanium pedals. So...

May 24 Private Party @ Swabbies
1-4 p.m.
This is a graduation party for our friend Darren Zinzer, the youth leader at St. John's. My son Brett and I play in the Sunday night FLOW service with Darren.

Friday, June 6: Swabbies 7- 10 pm
Swabbies is a great venue on the River. Perfect for us. We play outdoors. It's way up on Garden Highway near the airport, where I-5 crosses the river.

Friday, June 13: KDOG on the Blacktop
This is a private office party at Kenton's building. This gig was Drew's debut with the band last year. And it was Nick's first post-heart surgery gig.

Friday, July 11: Swabbies 7-10 pm

Saturday, July 26: Moonlight in Margaritaville
I'm looking forward to this one: KDOG opens for the Jimmy Buffet tribute band, Garrett Wilkerson and the Parrotheads. It's a benefit show in the foothills.

Friday, August 8, Swabbies: 7-10 p.m.

Saturday, August 9: KDOG at the Serrano Visitor Center, 7 pm
What band hasn't dreamed of playing the Serrano Visitor Center? I just hope it doesn't turn into another Altamont.

Saturday, September 6, Biker Bash at Miller Park, 1 p.m.
This is a radio station party.

Friday, Sept. 19, Fairy Tale Town Benefit
We play this benefit for the Sacramento Area Emergency Housing Çenter every fall. It costs $80 or so, but you get all kinds of food and wine provided by local restaurants, caterers and gourmet suppliers. We play on the main Fairy Tale stage right next to Eeyore's pen. I just hope it doesn't turn into another Altamont.

Friday, Sept 19th, Swabbies 7-10 p.m.