So the other day a drummer acquaintance asked me to join them and a some musician friends for a jam at a local studio. Now, the dude is a tad out there and spacey, but a nice person and can play well, so I agree. Sounds like fun, I haven't had a chance to play bass with others in a minute and itching to stretch my legs so to speak.
Oh boi, what an...odd...night.
I show up, there's a small group outside. The door won't unlock. We make introductions and small talk, meanwhile the drummer who organized the jam is trying to get people's opinions on what pizza to get for the group. Half hour later, the door gets opened and I set up. The pianist starts noodling. Drummer is still trying to figure out a pizza to order. I let him know I've planned to be there for about 2 hours or so, and by this point it's been nearly an hour already. We finally start to jam off what the pianist is noodling, because he hasn't stopped since getting in the door. All the while other people are trickling in, seemingly invited to the jam by the drummer, but playing nothing and just coming and going. One person shows up with their bike and is looking real confused about where to put it because of all the stuff everywhere. I ask if they want help moving anything, they respond with an awkward pause and a short side-eyed "no". Pizza shows up.
Drummer calls the rooms attention and lets us know the food's there. I let him know I've gotta head out before too long. He tells me he is trying to get things set up to record tonight's jam, and asks if I can stay longer. I agree to stay a half hour longer than I intended. The random people streaming in and out are evidently vocalists, as they began doing vocal warm ups while the pianist is eating, except the one individual with the bike who has yet to do anything except flit about and occasionally touch a conga or the xylophone. During this time I make introductions with the vocalists. The flitter is who knows where at that time.
People are done with eating and we're back to jamming, this time the vocalists are singing, but there's no PA. After 2-3 songs the drummer disappeared, I've gotta head out, so I start packing up. As I'm packing up the bike flitter walks up and says "guess I'll be the bigger person, what's your name?". Excuse me?! I hold in my incredulity and respond with my name/what's yours. After this weird introduction they sit down on the drums, but don't seem know how to play them, so I ask "what do you play?". They say "psshhh, I can play all this sh** in here. Like, everything." I say "oh yeah? That's a lot instruments." (It's a well equipped studio). They come back with "yeah of course....can't you?!" I say "no", They say "Really?!" and the face they made, you'd have thought I said I only drink gasoline.
Anyway, I find the drummer, let them know I'm heading out. They offered to give me some money for my time. I refused twice, but they kept insisting and slipped me $20.
Probably the weirded jam I've ever been to, but it paid better than most gigs I play (originals bands, what can I say). On the plus side, I got to use my new CV 70's p and it sounded wonderful.
Oh boi, what an...odd...night.
I show up, there's a small group outside. The door won't unlock. We make introductions and small talk, meanwhile the drummer who organized the jam is trying to get people's opinions on what pizza to get for the group. Half hour later, the door gets opened and I set up. The pianist starts noodling. Drummer is still trying to figure out a pizza to order. I let him know I've planned to be there for about 2 hours or so, and by this point it's been nearly an hour already. We finally start to jam off what the pianist is noodling, because he hasn't stopped since getting in the door. All the while other people are trickling in, seemingly invited to the jam by the drummer, but playing nothing and just coming and going. One person shows up with their bike and is looking real confused about where to put it because of all the stuff everywhere. I ask if they want help moving anything, they respond with an awkward pause and a short side-eyed "no". Pizza shows up.
Drummer calls the rooms attention and lets us know the food's there. I let him know I've gotta head out before too long. He tells me he is trying to get things set up to record tonight's jam, and asks if I can stay longer. I agree to stay a half hour longer than I intended. The random people streaming in and out are evidently vocalists, as they began doing vocal warm ups while the pianist is eating, except the one individual with the bike who has yet to do anything except flit about and occasionally touch a conga or the xylophone. During this time I make introductions with the vocalists. The flitter is who knows where at that time.
People are done with eating and we're back to jamming, this time the vocalists are singing, but there's no PA. After 2-3 songs the drummer disappeared, I've gotta head out, so I start packing up. As I'm packing up the bike flitter walks up and says "guess I'll be the bigger person, what's your name?". Excuse me?! I hold in my incredulity and respond with my name/what's yours. After this weird introduction they sit down on the drums, but don't seem know how to play them, so I ask "what do you play?". They say "psshhh, I can play all this sh** in here. Like, everything." I say "oh yeah? That's a lot instruments." (It's a well equipped studio). They come back with "yeah of course....can't you?!" I say "no", They say "Really?!" and the face they made, you'd have thought I said I only drink gasoline.
Anyway, I find the drummer, let them know I'm heading out. They offered to give me some money for my time. I refused twice, but they kept insisting and slipped me $20.
Probably the weirded jam I've ever been to, but it paid better than most gigs I play (originals bands, what can I say). On the plus side, I got to use my new CV 70's p and it sounded wonderful.
