Yes, it was a rockin' good time.
Hope to see many of you during my last gig with the guys in Redcliff this weekend.
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Showing posts with label Calgary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Calgary. Show all posts
Friday, June 10, 2005
Trapper's Pub: March 31 - April 2
You may recall a few months ago, I explained in detail my trip to Calgary with Mule Shoe, especially with respect to our gig at Trapper's Pub. Since I am a person who believes being late is better than never, I would like to present you with select photographs, documenting the experience. Special thanks go to Kelsey for posting the awesome pictures.
Yes, it was a rockin' good time.
Hope to see many of you during my last gig with the guys in Redcliff this weekend.
Yes, it was a rockin' good time.
Hope to see many of you during my last gig with the guys in Redcliff this weekend.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
No Sleep Till Summer
Gigging in Calgary was a blast last week, even though I was running around like a headless chicken. I expected that I was going to get a lot of rest and relaxation, but it turned out that I didn't get much rest.
Much of Thursday was spent shopping with Chris. We hit nearly every music store within the city limits. By the end of the day, my credit card burned to the touch. I swiped that thing so many times, smoke began emanating from my wallet. I ended up buying drumheads, drumsticks (necessities), and a brand new pair of K hi-hats. I saw my dream drumset, and my heart ached, but I knew there was no possible way that I could afford another drumset at this time. The drumset kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and then begged me to take it home, but I tried explaining to the drumset that I just didn't have room in my car for the new beauty. I promised the drumset I would return and buy her, but deep down she knew I couldn't hold my promise.
I also saw the Mackie mixers I was describing in an earlier post. I was very tempted to walk out with one, but again the price tag was a little much for me to justify -- and I knew, deep in my heart, that I wanted a pair of K hi-hats most. I also saw an Ayotte-Keplinger snare, that just thirty minutes prior, I told Chris: "If they have an Ayotte-Keplinger snare, I don't care how much it costs, I'm buying one". Once I saw the $1200 price tag, I changed my mind.
I can't remember the last time I spent 3 nights in the bar. In some ways, it was nice to get out of my cocoon. It was also very smoky, and rowdy. My beautiful maple snare drum now smells like an ashtray. The drumset I took up to Calgary almost didn't hold up to the abuse that Müle Shöe deals on a nightly basis. I took my portable PureCussion drumset, but that thing is so flimsy, that you can only hit so hard before you begin damaging the kit. I should have known better, but I have a real hard time fitting my big drumset into my car.
The performances did go well overall. The band is clicking nicely, and they are still kicking my ass to hit harder. We sold a fair number of CD's, t-shirts, and 8X10 posters. We made some good connections which could mean that we will be returning to Calgary sooner than expected. Perhaps we will return during the summer... But I can't say anything about that right now.
I had many late nights, and early mornings. There was also a time change Saturday night, so I lost an hour of sleep. The drive back home was a long one, even though I couldn't wait to get back home to my own bed.
Four days since I returned home, I am still exhausted. I have no idea when things are going to let up, but the next few weeks are going to be packed. I have all kinds of rehearsals (with three different bands), weekend gigs, and even recording sessions in the studio. I may be making some coin here and there, but I know that I won't be getting much sleep.
Much of Thursday was spent shopping with Chris. We hit nearly every music store within the city limits. By the end of the day, my credit card burned to the touch. I swiped that thing so many times, smoke began emanating from my wallet. I ended up buying drumheads, drumsticks (necessities), and a brand new pair of K hi-hats. I saw my dream drumset, and my heart ached, but I knew there was no possible way that I could afford another drumset at this time. The drumset kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and then begged me to take it home, but I tried explaining to the drumset that I just didn't have room in my car for the new beauty. I promised the drumset I would return and buy her, but deep down she knew I couldn't hold my promise.
I also saw the Mackie mixers I was describing in an earlier post. I was very tempted to walk out with one, but again the price tag was a little much for me to justify -- and I knew, deep in my heart, that I wanted a pair of K hi-hats most. I also saw an Ayotte-Keplinger snare, that just thirty minutes prior, I told Chris: "If they have an Ayotte-Keplinger snare, I don't care how much it costs, I'm buying one". Once I saw the $1200 price tag, I changed my mind.
I can't remember the last time I spent 3 nights in the bar. In some ways, it was nice to get out of my cocoon. It was also very smoky, and rowdy. My beautiful maple snare drum now smells like an ashtray. The drumset I took up to Calgary almost didn't hold up to the abuse that Müle Shöe deals on a nightly basis. I took my portable PureCussion drumset, but that thing is so flimsy, that you can only hit so hard before you begin damaging the kit. I should have known better, but I have a real hard time fitting my big drumset into my car.
The performances did go well overall. The band is clicking nicely, and they are still kicking my ass to hit harder. We sold a fair number of CD's, t-shirts, and 8X10 posters. We made some good connections which could mean that we will be returning to Calgary sooner than expected. Perhaps we will return during the summer... But I can't say anything about that right now.
I had many late nights, and early mornings. There was also a time change Saturday night, so I lost an hour of sleep. The drive back home was a long one, even though I couldn't wait to get back home to my own bed.
Four days since I returned home, I am still exhausted. I have no idea when things are going to let up, but the next few weeks are going to be packed. I have all kinds of rehearsals (with three different bands), weekend gigs, and even recording sessions in the studio. I may be making some coin here and there, but I know that I won't be getting much sleep.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
My Ugly Mug on the Tube
I would like to rewind a few days and talk about my experience on being on television, where a potential viewership of about 1.5 million watched my band perform on The A-Channel's Wired.
Wednesday sure felt incredibly busy. I spent much of the morning packing my stuff and managed to be on the highway by 1:30 in the afternoon. It was around 4:30 before I made it to the outskirts of Calgary -- and it was rush-hour. I found my hotel with little trouble, checked-in, and went through the lengthy process of moving my baggage and equipment into my hotel room. I was not about to leave thousands of dollars worth of equipment in my car. I felt that was just an invitation for a thief to break into my car and steal the tools of my trade.
I ended up eating a hamburger at the Wendy's across the street where people barely spoke English. I ate hastily as I was alone, feeling straying eyes glance at me as I sat alone, staring out the window. Believe it or not, I am really self-conscious about sitting in a restaurant, eating alone. I'd sooner drive my car through a drive-thru and park my car, eating with the doors locked. I feel safer in my car.
I walked back to my hotel room, shaved, showered, and changed my clothes in preparation for my big television debut. Then I mentally prepared myself for a drive that I was dreading -- driving through downtown Calgary.
I get very claustrophobic with high-rise buildings blocking out the sun. Being raised on the prairies where I can see for miles, I feel blind and constrained when I cannot see much further than fifty meters. I can only describe it feeling like a lab rat feels when it is placed in a maze. The roads in downtown Calgary are largely one-way streets, so navigating your way around these high-rises can be troublesome. You often have to doubleback in order to get to your destination.
I managed to find the A-Channel studio, and when I parked my car, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. A few of my bandmates were already there, unloading gear out of their vehicles. I went to buy a parking pass from the electronic vendor, where I was hit up by a junkie, begging for cash. I imagine this is commonplace everywhere else, but in smalltown Alberta, I rarely see events like this. I just wanted to get indoors to safety.
Walking into a television studio is a bit surreal. You begin to see the sets that you normally see every day. They are often a lot smaller than you think they are. The ceilings are strangely absent; instead there countless studio lights pointed in every which direction, many of them covered in colored gels to achieve a certain type of lighting. Electrical cords and cables are everywhere, and you almost feel like a child in a department store, where if you dare touch anything, it will be the end of the world as you know it.
We were escorted through a large room where about a dozen staff were working on computers as well as all sorts of intriguing electronic gizmos, likely preparing for programming that was to occur in the future. Everybody in the room managed to stop their tasks for a few seconds, and say hello to us. It was a kind gesture to us, especially when we didn't even know how welcome we would be.
There was not a lot of time, so once we were in the studio, we hastily began assembling our equipment. There already was a drumset for me to use, so after a careful inspection, I managed to utilize much of the television stations' drumkit. We had our gear assembled in about twenty minutes, we did a quick sound check with one of the stations' technicians, and we were then instructed to wait -- and wait quietly, I might add.
We might have waited only fifteen minutes, but it felt like two hours. The nerves were beginning to affect us all, and Jake, Chris and I did a final last-ditch practice of the songs by humming, air-drumming and plucking at their unplugged guitars. It felt good, but we all knew that we only had one shot at this, and we would have to do our absolute best. Our lead singer Dan, disappeared to a public washroom where he warmed up his vocal chords.
It wasn't long until the host, Jill Bellam, arrived (I think that's what her name was). She was a very kind host, who made us feel a little at ease. She asked us a few questions, and instructed us how the taping would commence, as well as she told us what to expect. Immediately thereafter, we were instructed to plug-in our instruments, take our places, and wait for the dreaded countdown. Once the countdown hits zero, you are on -- and you'd better not take your time.
I saw the cameraman count down from ten until five, and then continue counting down silently with his fingers. Once his hand reached zero, I soiled my shorts and counted the band in the first number.
I don't know where I went for the next four minutes. I was completely focused, listening to the other players. I was praying that everything would go flawlessly, but when you are under such pressure, anything can go wrong. I kept telling myself to not look at the cameras; first of all, because you look like such a dork when you make eyes with the camera, and second, the moment you look into that glass eye -- the one that has the red light glowing, you freeze like a deer in headlights. All I could do to keep myself from vomiting over myself was to go into my own little world, and tell myself that we were not taping.
As soon as the song ended, Jill walked on the stage, thanked us, and commenced the interview. I am quite happy that she did not ask me a question, because I would have looked like such a dork, wiping the drool from my face, and uttering something completely primitive and unintelligible -- kinda like "Buddy-Nugs". Dan and Jake handled the questions, and I think they did a good job. The interview was very short, perhaps under two minutes. What you saw on the show was exactly the way it happened. Nothing was cut, nothing was patched or added.
We were instructed to sit for a few minutes and wait to perform our second number. Once again, the butterflies returned to my stomach, as I would be singing during the second song, and I hadn't learned my harmonies well enough. In addition, the monitors were poor, and the staff didn't have enough time to make things picture-perfect for us.
The countdown commenced, and once again I was counting in the band, praying that I wouldn't embarrass myself, the band, or my family for generations to come, by doing something stupid. Musically, the song went well, but I could hardly hear the other singers, and I did my best to fake my harmonies. I didn't think I did too bad, as they seemed to fit well in the mix.
The song ended without a train-wreck and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief. Jill thanked us for being on the show, as well as we thanked her for having the opportunity to stare at her for about an hour. She left the studio, and the band began packing our gear.
Chris asked me if I would like to join him for a beverage at one of the pubs, were we could drink some of these jitters away. I agreed, and drove across town to a watering-hole where I met a few of his friends. I stayed for a few drinks, but I had to leave, as I could not wait to see myself on a real television station.
Well, I suppose it might have been better if I did not tune-in at all. I sure felt like I looked like a dork. The shots of me looked like I just got back in from smoking a dozen joints. Boy, did I look lit. The music sounded pretty decent for television, but I sure cringed when I heard the vocals. Oh, was it torture. It was off-key, shrill, and sounded worse than a thousand drunken bagpipers on St. Patrick's Day. After our "performance", I turned off the television, and began convincing myself that nobody was going to watch that show anyway.
Boy, was I wrong. The next day, Chris and I went shopping in Calgary. Everywhere we went, we were approached by strangers saying: "Hey! You were on Wired last night!" We were celebrities -- something I did not want to become again. Well, at least we didn't have legions of screaming fans stalking us, but at least we were treated well by those who did recognize us. I suppose it was a nice boost to the ego, and in the end, I am glad to have had the experience.
Next time, I might opt out of singing. Musicians always talk about the "truth on tape". I suppose this day and age, there is truth in ones and zeros. The tape never lies; the tape is merciless. I could never stand the sound of my own voice -- even if I was singing well.
Wednesday sure felt incredibly busy. I spent much of the morning packing my stuff and managed to be on the highway by 1:30 in the afternoon. It was around 4:30 before I made it to the outskirts of Calgary -- and it was rush-hour. I found my hotel with little trouble, checked-in, and went through the lengthy process of moving my baggage and equipment into my hotel room. I was not about to leave thousands of dollars worth of equipment in my car. I felt that was just an invitation for a thief to break into my car and steal the tools of my trade.
I ended up eating a hamburger at the Wendy's across the street where people barely spoke English. I ate hastily as I was alone, feeling straying eyes glance at me as I sat alone, staring out the window. Believe it or not, I am really self-conscious about sitting in a restaurant, eating alone. I'd sooner drive my car through a drive-thru and park my car, eating with the doors locked. I feel safer in my car.
I walked back to my hotel room, shaved, showered, and changed my clothes in preparation for my big television debut. Then I mentally prepared myself for a drive that I was dreading -- driving through downtown Calgary.
I get very claustrophobic with high-rise buildings blocking out the sun. Being raised on the prairies where I can see for miles, I feel blind and constrained when I cannot see much further than fifty meters. I can only describe it feeling like a lab rat feels when it is placed in a maze. The roads in downtown Calgary are largely one-way streets, so navigating your way around these high-rises can be troublesome. You often have to doubleback in order to get to your destination.
I managed to find the A-Channel studio, and when I parked my car, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. A few of my bandmates were already there, unloading gear out of their vehicles. I went to buy a parking pass from the electronic vendor, where I was hit up by a junkie, begging for cash. I imagine this is commonplace everywhere else, but in smalltown Alberta, I rarely see events like this. I just wanted to get indoors to safety.
Walking into a television studio is a bit surreal. You begin to see the sets that you normally see every day. They are often a lot smaller than you think they are. The ceilings are strangely absent; instead there countless studio lights pointed in every which direction, many of them covered in colored gels to achieve a certain type of lighting. Electrical cords and cables are everywhere, and you almost feel like a child in a department store, where if you dare touch anything, it will be the end of the world as you know it.
We were escorted through a large room where about a dozen staff were working on computers as well as all sorts of intriguing electronic gizmos, likely preparing for programming that was to occur in the future. Everybody in the room managed to stop their tasks for a few seconds, and say hello to us. It was a kind gesture to us, especially when we didn't even know how welcome we would be.
There was not a lot of time, so once we were in the studio, we hastily began assembling our equipment. There already was a drumset for me to use, so after a careful inspection, I managed to utilize much of the television stations' drumkit. We had our gear assembled in about twenty minutes, we did a quick sound check with one of the stations' technicians, and we were then instructed to wait -- and wait quietly, I might add.
We might have waited only fifteen minutes, but it felt like two hours. The nerves were beginning to affect us all, and Jake, Chris and I did a final last-ditch practice of the songs by humming, air-drumming and plucking at their unplugged guitars. It felt good, but we all knew that we only had one shot at this, and we would have to do our absolute best. Our lead singer Dan, disappeared to a public washroom where he warmed up his vocal chords.
It wasn't long until the host, Jill Bellam, arrived (I think that's what her name was). She was a very kind host, who made us feel a little at ease. She asked us a few questions, and instructed us how the taping would commence, as well as she told us what to expect. Immediately thereafter, we were instructed to plug-in our instruments, take our places, and wait for the dreaded countdown. Once the countdown hits zero, you are on -- and you'd better not take your time.
I saw the cameraman count down from ten until five, and then continue counting down silently with his fingers. Once his hand reached zero, I soiled my shorts and counted the band in the first number.
I don't know where I went for the next four minutes. I was completely focused, listening to the other players. I was praying that everything would go flawlessly, but when you are under such pressure, anything can go wrong. I kept telling myself to not look at the cameras; first of all, because you look like such a dork when you make eyes with the camera, and second, the moment you look into that glass eye -- the one that has the red light glowing, you freeze like a deer in headlights. All I could do to keep myself from vomiting over myself was to go into my own little world, and tell myself that we were not taping.
As soon as the song ended, Jill walked on the stage, thanked us, and commenced the interview. I am quite happy that she did not ask me a question, because I would have looked like such a dork, wiping the drool from my face, and uttering something completely primitive and unintelligible -- kinda like "Buddy-Nugs". Dan and Jake handled the questions, and I think they did a good job. The interview was very short, perhaps under two minutes. What you saw on the show was exactly the way it happened. Nothing was cut, nothing was patched or added.
We were instructed to sit for a few minutes and wait to perform our second number. Once again, the butterflies returned to my stomach, as I would be singing during the second song, and I hadn't learned my harmonies well enough. In addition, the monitors were poor, and the staff didn't have enough time to make things picture-perfect for us.
The countdown commenced, and once again I was counting in the band, praying that I wouldn't embarrass myself, the band, or my family for generations to come, by doing something stupid. Musically, the song went well, but I could hardly hear the other singers, and I did my best to fake my harmonies. I didn't think I did too bad, as they seemed to fit well in the mix.
The song ended without a train-wreck and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief. Jill thanked us for being on the show, as well as we thanked her for having the opportunity to stare at her for about an hour. She left the studio, and the band began packing our gear.
Chris asked me if I would like to join him for a beverage at one of the pubs, were we could drink some of these jitters away. I agreed, and drove across town to a watering-hole where I met a few of his friends. I stayed for a few drinks, but I had to leave, as I could not wait to see myself on a real television station.
Well, I suppose it might have been better if I did not tune-in at all. I sure felt like I looked like a dork. The shots of me looked like I just got back in from smoking a dozen joints. Boy, did I look lit. The music sounded pretty decent for television, but I sure cringed when I heard the vocals. Oh, was it torture. It was off-key, shrill, and sounded worse than a thousand drunken bagpipers on St. Patrick's Day. After our "performance", I turned off the television, and began convincing myself that nobody was going to watch that show anyway.
Boy, was I wrong. The next day, Chris and I went shopping in Calgary. Everywhere we went, we were approached by strangers saying: "Hey! You were on Wired last night!" We were celebrities -- something I did not want to become again. Well, at least we didn't have legions of screaming fans stalking us, but at least we were treated well by those who did recognize us. I suppose it was a nice boost to the ego, and in the end, I am glad to have had the experience.
Next time, I might opt out of singing. Musicians always talk about the "truth on tape". I suppose this day and age, there is truth in ones and zeros. The tape never lies; the tape is merciless. I could never stand the sound of my own voice -- even if I was singing well.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Totally Wired
This is quick reminder for everyone that I am going to be on television tonight.
I am going to be on tonight's broadcast of "Wired", at 11:00 PM MST, on the Calgary feed of the A-Channel.
I hope many of you will have the chance to tune into the show.
The rest of the week I'll be performing at Trapper's Pub and Grill in Calgary. If you can make it, I'd love to see you there.
If I can get access to a computer, I may have some spare time to write an entry and update you on my experiences. Otherwise I will write again once I return from my road trip.
Take care, everyone.
I am going to be on tonight's broadcast of "Wired", at 11:00 PM MST, on the Calgary feed of the A-Channel.
I hope many of you will have the chance to tune into the show.
The rest of the week I'll be performing at Trapper's Pub and Grill in Calgary. If you can make it, I'd love to see you there.
If I can get access to a computer, I may have some spare time to write an entry and update you on my experiences. Otherwise I will write again once I return from my road trip.
Take care, everyone.
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