I went to the National Guitar Workshop in Connecticut this past week. Oh, boy did I have fun...where to begin... Well, I get there, unpack and ditch my parents...it's all good so far. Then they assign the guitarists ensembles to play in based on skill level and genre of choice, but they audition the bassists for ensembles. They told me to play anything and I did: My Friend of Misery...they loved it and threw me in an ensemble called 'Extreme Metal 3'...right down my alley. I never really went to any of the classes after the first day, but rather slept til 11:30, woke up and went to lunch and hung out with the girls until way later that afternoon. Yep, Timmy Boy is a pimp! Then dinner with the girls and some guys and once again, returning to hanging out outside. My dorm was called Carmody, but I never spent time there for every person was more immature than I could stand, so I spent my time...at least when I was inside...in Sheehan, my second home for the past week. I only slept in Carmody, but my presence was still well recieved, especially after the concerts I played Tuesday night: student concert...two kids approach me saying they want to play Seek and Destroy, we practice (with a female drummer better than Lars) and we play pretty well on stage. But that wasn't the magic, Wednesday night was. I'm going to jump back a few days and tell you the whole story. I was tossed in Extreme Metal 3 under the direction of a really cool guy named Tomas. The instrumentation: three guitars and one bass...we decide to play Metallica but the song was still a blur. We slowly weed the decision down to Pre-Bob Rock era Metallica, then down to Ride the Lightning. Realizing we didn't have a vocalist, we opted for the instrumental Call of Ktulu and practice for about twenty minutes. We're already sounding amazing. Next day, we have an additional three guitarists, none of which know the song, which would in fact be our downfall, but we taught them the song, and jammed with them for a couple days before the concert Wednesday night. Because of time restrictions, we had to cut out some wierd parts of the song, some repeats, and generally were forced to make the song somewhat unstable for anyone who knows what it sounds like. Still...no complaining. We practice and practice, then we find a drummer, a little fourteen year old kid, shows up to practice sucking on a Blow Pop...but he strapped on his double bass pedal, took off his shirt and started pounding the crap out of the drums. Sounded amazing! Wednesday night, the magic truly happened. We were the eighteenth and final act in the show, put there intentionally after the show's planners heard us practicing, and we took the stage to a cheering audience. Noone has heard a note yet. The first seventeen acts pretty much sucked, some people were ready to leave but only stuck around for us, after over an hour of jazz and blues and a horrible vocal-less rendition of Welcome Home (Sanitarium) our guitarist opened the Ktulu riff on his BC Rich Warlock and I came in with the bass, people started cheering after being somewhat in a coma for the past hour. The other five guitars come crunching in with the chorus and people rise out of their seats. Professional musicians and soundguys can't believe their eyes watching eight sixteen year old kids playing Metallica with unbelievable accuracy and presence. We played and played, I rattled away on bass, and after picking for eight minutes as heavy as Jason, my bass was unbelievably out of tune and I had worn away most of my pick. We finish the song with an amazing finish as I played bass Robert Trujillo style acting like a gorilla with the bass nearly touching the ground. The audience was ecstatic as every person in the room applauded in a ten minute standing ovation. Backstage we're rushed by professional musicians amazed at our presence, and simply I've never enjoyed myself more. And the best part...three guitarists, the drummer and I all live within a half hour...we're staying together as a band. More stuff coming soon! http://www.leuchtnet.com/band/ for more.