We rolled into the venue a little early, and it's cold and rainy outside. The streets are empty, and the brick buildings stand tall in what's left of this old river town. When we walk through the side door in the alley to load in, I slowly pan across the room,and I'm brought back in time. This place feels like it was left here by a golden generation of jazz and blues and martini drinking people in suits. I love it.
The place is empty right now, but the sound guy fires everything up,and the stage is ours. We run through a couple toons, then the guys leave me to it, and I start writing a song. Once the verse and chorus are formed, I'm no longer alone and the bass and vocal harmonies kick in. I notice a silhouette in the back of the room. We have an audience now. Almost ready.
I run to the van, jot some lyrics down in my little book, then head back inside for a friendly game of pool. After getting schooled, we play our set. After the show,we go a few buildings over, where a friend has prepared mattresses for us to crash in his loft. Everything is different on the road. You get to catch glimpses into total strangers lives, and a piece of them enters your head as inspiration.
This place is full of inspiration. The loft is littered with musical instruments, and technology from bygone eras, carefully integrated with the new. This has a profound effect on me. So many people lack patience with their crafts, but this place does not. I learn that time can have the greatest effect on your art, and the more the better.
Tomorrow will be a better day, because it will overlap with all the days gone by, and all together they will make a bigger picture, with more depth. I won't forget this day, and it will go in the collective, and when the final image is posted, you'll catch a little glimpse of everything that inspired along the way. Can't wait for tomorrow.
All in all,the band has a few more friends,and of course better for it. Every time we play, I look at the other members of the band,and we smile at each other. It doesn't matter who's in the room with us,we are going to cut loose and let it all out. This is what we love to do.
The place is empty right now, but the sound guy fires everything up,and the stage is ours. We run through a couple toons, then the guys leave me to it, and I start writing a song. Once the verse and chorus are formed, I'm no longer alone and the bass and vocal harmonies kick in. I notice a silhouette in the back of the room. We have an audience now. Almost ready.
I run to the van, jot some lyrics down in my little book, then head back inside for a friendly game of pool. After getting schooled, we play our set. After the show,we go a few buildings over, where a friend has prepared mattresses for us to crash in his loft. Everything is different on the road. You get to catch glimpses into total strangers lives, and a piece of them enters your head as inspiration.
This place is full of inspiration. The loft is littered with musical instruments, and technology from bygone eras, carefully integrated with the new. This has a profound effect on me. So many people lack patience with their crafts, but this place does not. I learn that time can have the greatest effect on your art, and the more the better.
Tomorrow will be a better day, because it will overlap with all the days gone by, and all together they will make a bigger picture, with more depth. I won't forget this day, and it will go in the collective, and when the final image is posted, you'll catch a little glimpse of everything that inspired along the way. Can't wait for tomorrow.
All in all,the band has a few more friends,and of course better for it. Every time we play, I look at the other members of the band,and we smile at each other. It doesn't matter who's in the room with us,we are going to cut loose and let it all out. This is what we love to do.
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