After seeing my last two Bruce Springsteen shows in arenas (the Izod Center & the Pepsi Arena), it was nice to get back to nose-bleed seats at an outdoor show at the Meadowlands on Friday - show two of a three-night stand at MetLife Stadium. And not only back to the the seats in the clouds, but the great tailgate atmosphere in the parking lot. People BBQing, drinking, playing games, and blasting music. It's such a great atmosphere that really brings the whole experience of a show to another level. Due to time and logistical constraints, we had to settle for deli sandwiches instead of grilled meat and Labatt Blue instead of...well, something else, but the goal was accomplished none-the-less.
The most remarkable thing about my 11th Springsteen show (the 10th with the E Street Band) were the number of songs played that I had never seen live before, and that this was the 2nd show I've seen where Gary U.S. Bonds was a special guest. 9 of the 28 songs were new live experiences for me, 4 of which welcomed Bonds to the stage, and it brought the total number of Springsteen songs I've seen live to 128 (yes, I keep track because I am an addle-minded music geek) There were album classics like "Lost in the Flood" and "Incident on 57th Street," some more pop-oriented songs like "Talk To Me" and "From Small Things (Big Things One Day Come)," and some tunes that I didn't even know. I thought I was past the point where the band could break out songs that I didn't know, but there you go. And this was my first time seeing Bruce where he didn't play "The Rising." I had a 10-show streak going on, and I'm while I didn't need to hear the song again, the streak was kinda cool. At least in my addled mind. Oh well.
I was also happy to take one friend to his first show and another friend to her second (her first was on Wednesday, but we aren't counting that because she didn't get the full tailgate pre-show experience). It's always great to introduce people to the live Springsteen experience for the first time and show them why people come back time and time again.
Saturday night was the last show of the outdoor venues, but the tour now goes back indoors for arenas throughout the country. We'll see when I end up there, again. My next concert tickets are for Ben Folds Five on October 9th. Let's go.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
I Play With Pain
My parents have a wood furnace in their house, and throughout the year my dad collects wood to burn over the winter. Last Thursday I was helping my dad clear a downed tree from my brother's property, which entailed pushing wheelbarrows full of wood up a hill and loading it into a truck. I don't know how many times I've done this with my dad, but on Thursday I pulled a muscle on the bottom of my ribcage, and the pain that I experienced from this pulled muscle was probably the worst of my life. Of course it didn't help that it was right at the bottom of my ribcage so that I would feel it every time I breathed, and the faster and deeper I breathed the more it hurt. And as if that wasn't enough, I also had two shows this past weekend with my cover band.
As we were setting up on Friday night I honestly didn't know if I was going to be able to get through the show. Every breath was painful, and I couldn't really bend, lift, or setup any equipment. We got through soundcheck and I decided to just go with it. The show must go on, right? The first few songs of the first set were the most difficult, and I had to drop a few lyrics because I literally couldn't get enough air moving through my lungs with the pain. But after that - because of the ibuprofen, the warmth in the bar, just loosening up, or all three - things got easier, and it was actually a really good show. That night I slept very poorly because there was no comfortable position for me to be in, and I was up more than 2 hours before I wanted to be.
On Saturday, after taking it easy in the morning and the use of a heating pad, we had an afternoon show from 3-5:30 at East Fishkill Community Day. Literally thousands of people, along with tons of food, vendors, games, and activities. I had never been and was a little shocked at how expansive it was. But my muscle was less than impressed, and it just kept hurting. As a result, I took things a little bit more gingerly than I did the night before, and pretty much stayed right at my keyboard. The wireless mic was there but I didn't even use it. Oh well - still a good show and a good response from the crowd.
I've performed with cold before, but never with a pulled muscle that caused this much pain. And as I write this, it still hurts a bit when I take a really deep breathe, but nothing compared to what I was feeling on Friday and Saturday. So to everyone who came out to enjoy In The Pocket at the Quiet Man Pub in Wappingers Falls or East Fishkill Community Day: You. Are. Welcome.
That's 5 1/2 hours of performance when other singers probably would've put themselves on the disabled list. I play with pain.
As we were setting up on Friday night I honestly didn't know if I was going to be able to get through the show. Every breath was painful, and I couldn't really bend, lift, or setup any equipment. We got through soundcheck and I decided to just go with it. The show must go on, right? The first few songs of the first set were the most difficult, and I had to drop a few lyrics because I literally couldn't get enough air moving through my lungs with the pain. But after that - because of the ibuprofen, the warmth in the bar, just loosening up, or all three - things got easier, and it was actually a really good show. That night I slept very poorly because there was no comfortable position for me to be in, and I was up more than 2 hours before I wanted to be.
On Saturday, after taking it easy in the morning and the use of a heating pad, we had an afternoon show from 3-5:30 at East Fishkill Community Day. Literally thousands of people, along with tons of food, vendors, games, and activities. I had never been and was a little shocked at how expansive it was. But my muscle was less than impressed, and it just kept hurting. As a result, I took things a little bit more gingerly than I did the night before, and pretty much stayed right at my keyboard. The wireless mic was there but I didn't even use it. Oh well - still a good show and a good response from the crowd.
I've performed with cold before, but never with a pulled muscle that caused this much pain. And as I write this, it still hurts a bit when I take a really deep breathe, but nothing compared to what I was feeling on Friday and Saturday. So to everyone who came out to enjoy In The Pocket at the Quiet Man Pub in Wappingers Falls or East Fishkill Community Day: You. Are. Welcome.
That's 5 1/2 hours of performance when other singers probably would've put themselves on the disabled list. I play with pain.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Hot Mess
I was back in Massachusetts over the weekend, in the Waltham area for the wedding of a high school friend. It was the first time I've done a 3.5-hour drive plus a full wedding, reception, and afterparty on only 3.5 hours of sleep. How I did it I don't think I will ever quite know, but I think the key was not having any cake when I was at my most exhausted moment, and avoiding the inevitable sugar crash that would've followed. Experience, for the win!
The majority of the reception was under a big tent behind an old house, complete with amazing food (we all needed our fat pants), a stellar open bar ("No, I can't pour you that in a shot glass, but I can pour you that in a much bigger glass"), and a great party band called Hot Mess. And as someone who does what they do, I'll tell you what impressed me the most about the group. A few hours into the reception a storm came through (like most of the northeast, apparently), and it dumped what seemed like a ton of rain. So much rain that it was running into the tent on the ground and blowing onto the dance floor. So much rain that my jacket hanging on my chair would've been in a puddle had I not moved it, and I was seated toward the middle. So much rain that the band had to scramble to get as much of their equipment away from the sides and covered in plastic as they could. So much rain that it shorted out all the electricity on the band's end of the tent. Yeah, that much rain. So there we were on the biggest day of my friend's life with at least 1.5 hours to go at her wedding reception...and the band had no power. We were about two 16th notes away from a potential nightmare.
Now, I personally know a lot of musicians, and some of them, if they found themselves in this situation, would simply say, "Sorry, the show's over," take their money and go. Truthfully, you'll find people like that in any business. But not with this band. They may be called Hot Mess, but rest assured that unlike my friend's girlfriend (yes, I know I'm crashing at your place this weekend but you were a riot and you admitted it yourself), this band had their shit together. They took a few moments to get everything situated the way that it needed to be, got their power back, and picked right back up where things left off. And the party thoroughly continued. My friend Sam Adams and I had a long, extended conversation that night, and we both agreed that it was professionalism at its best. My friend Dewars concurred, though my pal Mionetto thought there maybe could've been a little more keyboard in the mix - but what does he know?
Anyway, a big shout-out to my friends Matt & Tessa for putting together such a wonderful wedding. I'm so happy I stayed awake for all of it!
The majority of the reception was under a big tent behind an old house, complete with amazing food (we all needed our fat pants), a stellar open bar ("No, I can't pour you that in a shot glass, but I can pour you that in a much bigger glass"), and a great party band called Hot Mess. And as someone who does what they do, I'll tell you what impressed me the most about the group. A few hours into the reception a storm came through (like most of the northeast, apparently), and it dumped what seemed like a ton of rain. So much rain that it was running into the tent on the ground and blowing onto the dance floor. So much rain that my jacket hanging on my chair would've been in a puddle had I not moved it, and I was seated toward the middle. So much rain that the band had to scramble to get as much of their equipment away from the sides and covered in plastic as they could. So much rain that it shorted out all the electricity on the band's end of the tent. Yeah, that much rain. So there we were on the biggest day of my friend's life with at least 1.5 hours to go at her wedding reception...and the band had no power. We were about two 16th notes away from a potential nightmare.
Now, I personally know a lot of musicians, and some of them, if they found themselves in this situation, would simply say, "Sorry, the show's over," take their money and go. Truthfully, you'll find people like that in any business. But not with this band. They may be called Hot Mess, but rest assured that unlike my friend's girlfriend (yes, I know I'm crashing at your place this weekend but you were a riot and you admitted it yourself), this band had their shit together. They took a few moments to get everything situated the way that it needed to be, got their power back, and picked right back up where things left off. And the party thoroughly continued. My friend Sam Adams and I had a long, extended conversation that night, and we both agreed that it was professionalism at its best. My friend Dewars concurred, though my pal Mionetto thought there maybe could've been a little more keyboard in the mix - but what does he know?
Anyway, a big shout-out to my friends Matt & Tessa for putting together such a wonderful wedding. I'm so happy I stayed awake for all of it!
Monday, September 3, 2012
Hal David
A little over 6 weeks ago I was playing a show and spending the night on the Jersey shore. Thankfully, we were north of any MTV-type shenanigans, but on the Jersey shore we were none the less. And my friends and I started having a conversation about a song we could possibly start to play, "Always Something There To Remind Me," by Naked Eyes. Released in 1983, it's a really great song that I'm sure you know and have heard on the radio. We pulled it up, checked it out, and our bass player really pushed hard for it.
Then someone mentioned that the song was originally written and released in the 1960s. Seriously? I was somewhat skeptical of this claim, and being slightly OCD about information I immediately started to find out if this is true. And it is. The song was first released in 1964 by an artist named Lou Johnson. But the real revelation to me was who wrote the song: Burt Bacharach and Hal David. I was at once very surprised...and not surprised one bit. These, guys, after all, seemed to write everything, from "What the World Needs Now Is Love," to "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head," to "I Say A Little Prayer."
Grammy and Oscar-winning songwriter Hal David passed away on Saturday at the age of 91, a giant of the music industry. In 2011, I was at the Songwriters Hall of Fame Induction Gala along with Mr. David, but I sadly never got the chance to meet him. I could go on and on about the impact that he and his lyrics had on American music, about all the songs that have found a place in the very fabric of our popular culture, and about moments and times in my life that I have come to associate with a Hal David song. But I wont. Instead, I want to give you a quote from an interview Mr. David gave for Paul Zollo's book, Songwriters On Songwriting. On where song ideas come from:
"Songs come from a million different places. Somebody says something. And suddenly it rings a bell. You're watching a movie or a show or a television program and you hear a line. You're in the audience and you hear a phrase, and suddenly there's an idea for a song.
I think most times they just come. I guess it comes to you because that's what you do. As opposed to doing something else. That's a specific talent you have, and the more you do it, the more it comes.
Early in my career, there were periods of times when ideas wouldn't come. And it used to worry me. I'm sure it worries any writer. Is it all over? [Laughs] Is this it? What do I do? Start learning how to make shoes, or cut salami? But I got beyond that at a certain point. And at this point in my life, when I work, I work. And the ideas come."
Hal David, 1921-2012.
Then someone mentioned that the song was originally written and released in the 1960s. Seriously? I was somewhat skeptical of this claim, and being slightly OCD about information I immediately started to find out if this is true. And it is. The song was first released in 1964 by an artist named Lou Johnson. But the real revelation to me was who wrote the song: Burt Bacharach and Hal David. I was at once very surprised...and not surprised one bit. These, guys, after all, seemed to write everything, from "What the World Needs Now Is Love," to "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head," to "I Say A Little Prayer."
Grammy and Oscar-winning songwriter Hal David passed away on Saturday at the age of 91, a giant of the music industry. In 2011, I was at the Songwriters Hall of Fame Induction Gala along with Mr. David, but I sadly never got the chance to meet him. I could go on and on about the impact that he and his lyrics had on American music, about all the songs that have found a place in the very fabric of our popular culture, and about moments and times in my life that I have come to associate with a Hal David song. But I wont. Instead, I want to give you a quote from an interview Mr. David gave for Paul Zollo's book, Songwriters On Songwriting. On where song ideas come from:
"Songs come from a million different places. Somebody says something. And suddenly it rings a bell. You're watching a movie or a show or a television program and you hear a line. You're in the audience and you hear a phrase, and suddenly there's an idea for a song.
I think most times they just come. I guess it comes to you because that's what you do. As opposed to doing something else. That's a specific talent you have, and the more you do it, the more it comes.
Early in my career, there were periods of times when ideas wouldn't come. And it used to worry me. I'm sure it worries any writer. Is it all over? [Laughs] Is this it? What do I do? Start learning how to make shoes, or cut salami? But I got beyond that at a certain point. And at this point in my life, when I work, I work. And the ideas come."
Hal David, 1921-2012.
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