Last night, we played a very successful gig. We had the audience in our pocket 100%. We sounded good; the performance was good; everybody was "on."
We had a drummer from a popular local band sit in on a song, and he was very good, and grateful to do it.
So there's some young guy there, and everybody is all, "Tommy plays drums; Tommy, go up there and play some drums!"
So Tommy (not his real name-his real name has been hidden as he is in the Drummer Protection Program, and relocated from another state,) goes up, and we do "I Hate my Life," which is one of our strongest songs.
First of all, Tommy doesn't know what DYNAMICS are, so he is bashing the living crap out of those drums AND cymbals, and making Krystal and I about deaf.
Second, TOMMY CANNOT PLAY.
That's right, Tommy has as much business behind a kit as I have in a male stripshow. Maybe even less. At least I have a shot at milking it for laughs.
He is all over the place, ahead of the beat; behind the beat; pretty much anywhere but ON the beat, and Krystal is actually flipping him the bird from time to time, and both of us are considering KILLING HIM.
Of course, the entire place is up on their feet, mobbing the stage, and screaming with adoration at Tommy's big debut on drums.
So the old adage that it doesn't necessarily take talent to have lots and lots of adoring fans was proven last night, and my ears are still ringing.
Next time this happens, we're going to just kill the guy, and accept the consequences.
(actually, we told our drummer - NO MORE GUEST DRUMMERS)
We had a drummer from a popular local band sit in on a song, and he was very good, and grateful to do it.
So there's some young guy there, and everybody is all, "Tommy plays drums; Tommy, go up there and play some drums!"
So Tommy (not his real name-his real name has been hidden as he is in the Drummer Protection Program, and relocated from another state,) goes up, and we do "I Hate my Life," which is one of our strongest songs.
First of all, Tommy doesn't know what DYNAMICS are, so he is bashing the living crap out of those drums AND cymbals, and making Krystal and I about deaf.
Second, TOMMY CANNOT PLAY.
That's right, Tommy has as much business behind a kit as I have in a male stripshow. Maybe even less. At least I have a shot at milking it for laughs.
He is all over the place, ahead of the beat; behind the beat; pretty much anywhere but ON the beat, and Krystal is actually flipping him the bird from time to time, and both of us are considering KILLING HIM.
Of course, the entire place is up on their feet, mobbing the stage, and screaming with adoration at Tommy's big debut on drums.
So the old adage that it doesn't necessarily take talent to have lots and lots of adoring fans was proven last night, and my ears are still ringing.
Next time this happens, we're going to just kill the guy, and accept the consequences.
(actually, we told our drummer - NO MORE GUEST DRUMMERS)

