No other way to embellish last night's play at Back Street.
To be fair though, I wasn't in the cheeriest of moods going in. The struggle to settle down from my unexpected homecoming three and a half weeks ago has been commanding my focus since I hit the state line; the plays at Back Street have been my only distraction from the rather grim circumstances otherwise surrounding me. I'm hopefully going to get a respite soon, but the next week or two are going to be critically important.
Couple this with my less-than satisfying-blow seven days gone, and I had a pretty good excuse to play the blues, bare the soul a little bit, freak out, or all combined. As things worked out last night, I actually wound up doing all three, much to my surprise. The night started off with the usual social bit, but I made no effort at all to hide my fatigue, and was otherwise pretty subdued throughout the run-up to the play. Just as Bob went up with Darryl, Joe, and Mike The Wop, my horn-and-guitar Bud Nick clapped me warmly on the shoulder, and said "Chris, you really kicked some ass last week!" I looked at him like he was crazy, and told him so - last Sunday was hardly in my personal Top 1,000 Best, after all. Nick wouldn't hear of it though; he insisted it was all good, so I gracefully let it go with a grin and a shake of my head, which raised a laugh from him.
Bob and the first sets of jammers set a pleasant enough benchmark that I subconsciously had the old itch early on in the proceedings. Whether by luck or perhaps sly design, my call came with a twist - Bob put me up with Nick, Darryl, and Legal Mitch on rhythm guitar. Well, fine. I'd jammed many times with this particular aggregation during my original stint as a Woodshed Regular in '08, so the basic prospects were looking good. Matter of fact, both Nick and Mitch were part of the absolutely EPIC play at Motley's in November of 2008, which turned out to be my last one before the d'horse and malaise hit a week or so later. I'd videoed it for at least a half-dozen YouTube entries, but the raw material wound up as "collateral damage" in my damned d'horse, and a scintillating document of the evening was lost for good as a result.
Almost four years down the road, the sheer irony of the situation was just too good to ignore, so I cast off any pretense of being subdued, and got ready to cook from the get-go. Nick started us off with one of his signatures "Ain't No Sunshine," and I threw a rather effective orchestral wash over the entire tune, all dynamics and dreamy flow. This earned me several Smiles from Nick, and when I went to visit Darryl and Mitch during their star-bits, they Smiled me frequently as well. Our unit worked the song and the crowd well, and the reception for once was enough to keep me from pushing too much over the balance of the play.
The second number was a roadhouse-stomp that borrowed its' hook from Jimi's "Voodoo Child {Slight Return}." Needless to say, I was in full front-swing mode from the first few pounding beats of the bass drum that opened the tune. Nick and Mitch had plenty of room during their solos, but the rest of the time I was effectively soloing with my lead-drums patterns and riffs. Things were tight, bright, and quite dynamic; both Snoopy and the Red Baron wouldn't have stood a chance against my WWI-Ace-barnstorming. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Darryl was just laying back in the pocket and providing a tasty link between me and the other cats. Yeah, I took advantage of this, but not in an over-the-top way. I kept things tied tightly together without sacrificing any of the space available to me, and I did my level best to fill as much of that space up as I could.
We flourished things out to a nice round of the clap from the crowd in response, and I patiently waited for the next tune, which turned out to be "I Shot the Sheriff." The tempo was slowed down a lot from when I used to regularly do the song with Bell Bottom Blues, and Darryl had an issue or two at first with what key Nick wanted. We both got sorted out quickly; I slipped into back-swing mode {a must for a good reggae feel} and revived several "bomb patterns" from the BBB days. Darryl locked tight with me, and despite the ragged start, we finished strongly. Nick, Mitch and Darryl were all Smiles, and I shot each with a few of my own as we quit the stage. Despite the generally good vibes our Aggregation generated, I was quickly relapsing into my previous state of mind as I sat down. The small mistakes were a part of it, yes, but quite honestly I wouldn't have minded one or two more songs to finish off properly.
Nonetheless, I hung out and cooled down until near the end. Just before I got up to cash out and split, one of the new faces to me - Jake, I believe - stopped by to shake my hand, and compliment my "funky blues drumming!!" I had dug his set right after ours, and told him so, but he was just like Nick and all but demanded I give myself due credit. I mollified him as best I could, but for once let the Modesty Monster keep me true to myself, ego-wise. If the Animal Fan Club can still pick up new disciples despite my regular slop and mess, who am I to argue? At the very least, it gave me upbeat thoughts for the drive home. My set was hardly a disaster, but there just wasn't enough adrenaline generated from it to buoy my spirits much, afterwards. Like I said at the start, the next week or two are going to be critical for my survival, and I might not have a chance at another play for a while. Last night should have been a lot stronger, but I have to take what I can get and move on quickly to stay one step ahead of the off-boards hustling I'm locked into right now.
And that's the whole ball of paraffin, boys and girls. It's back to one day / step at a time for me for this next week {if not longer}, so please don't be surprised if I disappear for a spell. I'll be back just as soon as I can, and hopefully will keep the musical momentum going in the bargain. Be of good cheer in the meantime.
More whenever.
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