Hear me, Bass Gods! Last night I did something that I am doing with increasing, and alarming, frequency. After the second disasterous gig in a row with a country group that I have been torturously trying to nurture for a year I threw a complete fit, packed up my PA, and told the entire group that I was never going to play with them again. O.K., I know this sounds bad, and I don't need any psychological advice about maturity, Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, or suggestions about anger management. But here is my story: I helped found a country/rock project with two other people a year ago. We went through a least five personnel changes during that time, mostly due to the perceptions that we were dull and boring as a band and to general flakiness of other players. The worst part was that we could not hold on to a decent drummer. We got hooked up with a guy who said he played drums and could get back a pedal steel player that we lost months before to another group. We said "alright, let's give it a shot." It turns out that he can't really play drums all that well, but he could sing, could get the pedal steel player back in the band, and get some gigs at a local restaurant. I was really hesitant, but the other founding members were really eager to gig the project and I let it go. Both gigs were total disasters. The drummer could neither keep a beat or a tempo. He did not learn the tunes, and never wrote down rehearsed arrangements. He just kind of made up his own thing. Even though we had cheat sheets, the other players kept forgetting parts or got mixed up (they all claimed stage fright after having to cut the first set short due to guitar equipment malfunctions). The singer could not keep time during vocal breaks (think "Brown-Eyed Girl" and the part that goes, "and do you remember when . 2 3 4 5 6. we used to sing") I think because her clunky shoes made it virtually impossible to tap her foot. I warned the group that we did not have enough material for the date (we only had to fill three hours) and we started bickering over what songs we were going to play for a second time half-way through the third set. I lost it. Right there on stage and in front of everyone's mother, I made it perfectly clear that we were sucking up a storm and I expected more. Then I cut and run. They all really hate me for that, now. Am I just a major di** or what?