This audition was a classic.
My last band broke up and I have been looking for a new one
on local CL. I run into a band looking for a bassist for 2 projects,
one original and one cover.
We talk. Audition is for Friday at 6:30. The I get a call
Thursday, change of plan. So now it is Sunday 4-7. I get to
miss Gard's favorite program, the
Stupor Bowl Pro Bowl.
Anyway, Sunday I get 4 phone calls between 12 and 12:30.
Change of plan, 'My drummer and other guitarist can't make it.
You can come anyway and play with my singer and me
if you want.' Ok...
So I get there on time, plug in and start with the original stuff.
Guy says 'Did I tell you we tune to Eb?'
Errr, no.
I get retuned. The basement is kind of small, my head is
between 2 wooden ceiling joists. Any forward or backward
rocking will lead to a serious head injury, maybe a concussion.
'You don't mind if I smoke, do you? the guy says.
'It's your house, man. Do what you want.'
The guy fired up a cig, and then fired one off the other
for the next hour. The singer asked if I was a cop, I said no, (I
just play one on TB...) and fired off a bowlful of his favorite
ignitable recreational vice. At this point the smoke is so thick
my eyes are watering and I can't breathe.
I play along with the original tunes I had heard on Reverb nation
and he did have some charts. He told me I was
a bit 'busy', and I had to hang back and come in with the
(nonexistent) drummer. I noted I usually keyed off the
(nonexistent) drummer for that, no problem.
After a little more than an hour, we stop and talk. I had
mentioned at first contact I was looking for 12-18 gigs per
year. Now he says they are looking at 3-4 gigs a week. Not
bar gigs, though. 'Festivals and stuff'. And they are thinking
they can do 150+ gigs a year. Probably have to take a van
and do the Southern circuit as RI doesn't have much of a
market for Southern Rock. That's just for the original band.
The cover band does a full 12 gig a month schedule too.
'Oh, are they the same players in that band?
'Yep'
Oh my. These bands I have never heard of do 24 gigs a
month. In a market that doesn't have a lot of Southern
Rock gigs. In a market where bar owners are getting DJ's
or playing the radio so they don't have to hire bands.
At this point the guitarist tells me he doesn't drink much,
but starts his day getting toasted.
Every day. He was getting
all toasty with the singer's stash right then as well.
Then I got the schtick about how this was going to be the
next 'Big Thing', and how he was then going to quit his day
job when that happened. We could all quit our day jobs.
Ok, you are 46 and the singer is 55+. Man, get a reality check.
(I'm gonna love living in a van...)
(At this point I wish I had bluewines telephone number for
moral support).
I said, 'Hey, I can only get you part of the way to where you
want to go. You need to groom another guy in the interim.'
Sometimes I stun myself with my own sense of diplomacy.
They give me the charts. I am supposed to come by at 8:30
on Friday to audition for the 'cover' band. They have another
bassist at 7 PM but they are going to lie to him and tell him I
am coming for the originals band audition. Nice...
I beat a hasty retreat. Not a moment too soon as I am about
to go into convulsions. Wish I had an oxygen tank in the car.
Fast forward to this morning. While I am getting ready for work
I blow my nose and green crud comes outta my face. No, I
don't have a cold. I really start thinking about this whole
business. Think I am going to have to blow off the second
audition, I can't do this and live, Just not a good fit. I have
a headache that won't go away.
Blue, how did you survive all this nonsense?
I think I am
going back to building model airplanes for the winter. Doing
glue is probably safer.
