Separation Anxiety

For those of you who didn't know already, the ARL band is in a bit of a transitional period at the moment. Our acoustic guitar player, and front man for our opening band "Los Mustangs" is retiring from the band. P. Blake Martin, P. Diddy, Bootsy Collins' long lost brother, whatever you want to call him, if you know him, you know he's got the funk.

P. has been my partner, musically speaking, for years now, and the bottom line is that it's not going to be the same without him. The best times I've ever had on stage have been right next to him, and the most miserable gigs on the planet have been tolerable because of him.

You can't blame a guy for wanting to spend more time with his family though. As he said, this band is a dream fulfilled, just 20 years too late. I shudder to think of the trouble he and I would have gotten into had we met back when we had no responsibilities. Scary.

For more than one reason, he won't be replaced. The most important is that he can't be replaced. We could get another guy with a guitar up there, but it wouldn't be what it was.

-ARL

Road Rash

It seems natural to follow up my last blog with a reflection on the ARL band's little "Tour of Texas". It was a blast, I must say, and it was great to get even the tiniest taste of what life must be like as a professional musician. I guess it's just like anything else, but I suppose the highs are much higher, and the lows are much lower than say, an office job.

To give you an example of a low, we showed up at our first gig to find a dance floor full of 70-year-olds sipping on coffee and straight whiskey. The house music was Gene Autrey and Hank Williams, occasionally becoming so modern as a 90's Garth Brooks tune. No sweat for Los Mustangs, who saved our butts by giving them pretty close to what they wanted, although a bit louder than they wanted it. It would have been difficult to stay within the volume requirements of these senior citizens, and they let us know pretty consistently throughout the first two sets. At some point though, as if by divine intervention, the old folks cleared out, and a slightly younger audience trickled in.

The night ended up just fine. I stuck to my internal commitment to play my original songs come hell or high water, and the new crowd responded well. By the time we left, I was doing Allman brothers covers and even signed a CD for an enthusiastic, somewhat boozed up fan. A huge contrast from Tim telling me "You're gonna need chicken wire, boy" at the beginning of the show.

The last show of the tour was at a place called "Crossroads" in Fredericksburg. Talk about a high. We ate great food, they loved Los Mustangs and the place was packed when I went on, filling up even more throughout the night. Then a bachelorette party and a bridal party showed up, and things got borderline out of hand. We ended up playing an extra hour and a half to a standing room only crowd. If that were what being a road musician was like all the time, I could do it for life.

At the end of it all, I can't say I would have changed anything. To have a perfect experience would have given me doubts about my choices in life. To have had all miserable gigs would have been, well, miserable. I got a good taste of both sides, and a renewed faith that I haven't wasted my life away by working.

Sarah and I spent the Sunday we should have been driving home at what has become one of my favorite places on earth, my buddy's ranch in the hill country. We drank cold beer, floated in the Guadalupe river, and listened to some good friends talk about their days as road musicians when things weren't quite so......calm.

Texas Tour 2010

I'm glad I am the way that I am, or I would never have done anything with my life. I get an idea and run like hell with it, and it's only just before it's about to all come together that I start having any doubts at all. By then it's too late to back out, and everything seems to work out fine.

That's where I'm at with next weeks ARL Band tour through Texas; the doubt part.

It's nothing legitimate. It's just the idea of taking my band, which is essentially a big fish in a tiny pond, into one of the most competitive music markets in the united states. We're not really competing for anything, other than being invited back, and hopefully to more and bigger places. It's just that you always want to be more ready for that kind of thing than you are. You wish you could have practiced one more time.

I'm not nervous. I don't really get nervous. Since I can't really open my eyes while I sing, it doesn't matter one gig to the next where I'm playing, or who is there. The only time I've ever really been nervous playing was doing a live radio thing. That scared the hell out of me. My eye closing technique didn't work, because it was already completely up to my imagination who was listening.

We kick off at what I understand to be a true Texas Honkey-Tonk. A dream for my buddy Blake Martin and the Los Mustangs Band who opens every show for me. For a kid from Detroit, I'm not sure I'd use the word dream. Then again, I have no idea what word to use, because I've never done it. Next is outdoors on Congress street in Downtown Austin. I should be scared, but I'm not. What really gets me is the last gig of the week. A brand new, VERY high dollar music-specific venue in Fredericksburg.

Fortunately, my band is amazing before I ever open my mouth. Seasoned professionals who have paid their dues, and a lot of those dues were paid in Texas.

Hopefully this is the first of many. Cross your fingers for me, and if you're in the Texas hill country, come on out and see the show. Dates are up on musicofARL.com.

Memorial Day Weekend with Jay Boy Adams

It is a great honor to be opening for a long time friend of mine, Jay Boy Adams. Friday and Saturday, May 28 and 29, he'll be coming from Comfort, Texas to play at Casa Blanca Restaurant and Bar. With a music career too long and loaded to cover here, let just say he's been everywhere, and seen everything. He, and my Bass player, Rich Chorne' opened for ZZ Top for seven years as the Jay Boy Adams band, and I imagine you see a lot in Seven years on the road with those guys.

I met Jay about ten years ago, in the same place we'll be playing next Friday, at Casa Blanca. He was a long time friend of the former owner of Casa, and had been hired to play New Years Eve, like he used to do each year long before I'd come along. Jay's show was amazing to me. I'd never seen such a practiced group of musicians playing live before. Their show was TIGHT. It forever changed my idea of what a professional musician was, and it showed me that I was not one.

When you sit down to talk to Jay, he'll let you go on indefinitely, until you run out of steam, and then he'll say "You know what you need to do.......", and then he'll tell you in the most frank, honest terms what his vast experience tells him you should do. Word for word, this is some of the most valuable conversation I've ever had, musically speaking. He's helped me find the guitar/amp combination I've been searching for for years, despite my stubborn self (I thought I hated Fender stuff my whole life), simplified my songwriting process, and given me pointers on guitar set-up that I don't go a single show without using.

As long as I've known him, this will be the first time we've done a show together. Come see this guy do his thing. His songs are heartfelt and beautifully written, and he knows exactly how to make them come across. He is a rare find in the music business, and an even rarer find as a friend.

http://jayboyadams.com/