Musician's Rant

I’m about a half hour from the back door kitchen dumb waiter load in
I hope you’re in a good mood
Will my guitar be too loud……..thank you!
Will this be the night that……….no way, can’t even bring myself to say it again
The sound man will be angry and wearing sweatpants
And of course he’ll tell me to turn down
Did Jimi turn down?
Did Bird back off the mic?
Did Gene Krupa not bang the hell out of his drums until his hands bled?
Oh boy!
Who will be in the house tonight? Will it be my John Hammond?
I know this place, bad sound, no dressing room, and I just paid a buck for f-ing soda.

The stage,
one light out of eight working and its pointing at the floor.
One outlet of the two prong variety with a neon beer sign plugged into it, about which the bar tender said in a less than friendly growl “ dude leave the f---ing beer sign on”!

The Crowd
Lotsa Dale Earnhardt hats………. bad sign
One too many five pounds of baloney in a three pound bag looking girls staring at you like you just reviewed their boyfriends parole request.
Oh and go ahead genius, get it over with “Freebird”
And after the first set one of the guys will say “Well the staff is really digging it”

How many people will tell me tonight “what the hell are you doing playing here you should be on MTV”

One more person tells me that and there’s a good chance I’ll end up on CNN instead.
“guitar player assaults patron with Gibson Flying V…
film at eleven”.

Bottom line is…I’m here, you’re here…let’s have a party!

Best part about it is I know I’m going to do the same thing Jimi would have done, fill the place with sound, hopefully beautiful sound and just a bit too loud.

Thank you!

Club Owners
One jerk told me musicians were necessary evils
Another parasite never returned my calls.
Some other weasel told me I had to pay his sound man
And just for a cheery on the top “you were too loud”

Thank you!
The staff

Those musically illiterate waitresses who would not know good music if it fell out of the sky and into their “section”

And if I hear one more of these girls say “why do I always get the tables near the band nobody ever wants to sit there” I think my head will explode.

Are we so desperate for love and acceptance that even the opinions of these cretins means so much to us……..Blaaaaaaaccchhh!!!!

Hey, what about those police academy reject doorman

Who stare you down while you load in like they caught you banging their teenage sister.

Aftermath
Can’t find whoever in Gods name is supposed to pay us
And when you do the money is always short.
Nobody gets out of the way while you are trying to tear down the gear.
And for sure there will be a bunch of drunks standing in the only aisle that leads to the front door.

“the front door” oh! the honor of finally being able to use that blessed portal!

Now go get the car that is at least 5 blocks away, being stopped every 20 feet being reminded that “you play almost as good as Garcia” or “dude would it have killed you to play some Skynard”

Ah and there’s my truck adorned with the obligatory parking ticket .

So let me see we made a c note a man tonight, gas, tolls, and ticket…….I made 14 dollars!……..awesome!

Conclusion
I play music
I take shit
And I play too loud…………..Thank you!

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