Saint Charles Jazz (pt.2)
Barenaked Ladies pop me out of bed (the band -- not like, y'know...)... take care of the three s's... rent a car... go to work... meeting... square away things with Keith Dye (the most patient man on EARTH) and Texas Lutheran University... pack up my gear and GO GO GO to St. Charles East!
I arrive without getting lost -- although I do call Nicki on my cell phone at one point to make sure I haven't missed a turn. I jump out of the car and grab my gear. Some students are nearby, rocking out to their cranked car stereo (I'd swear it was the riff from Dio's "Holy Diver"...?) -- this can only be a good omen. After all, I've come to the St. Charles East jazz program to stop all this swingin' and play straight 8th's with TONS of distortion.
And hopefully not play any wrong notes.
I meet Jim Kull and Mark Maegdlin onstage. Mark is a very positive, high-energy cat, and I like him immediately. His organ rig is all set up, so I busy myself patching in the Hyper-Sophisto-Sonic-Mutation-Station (a.k.a. my pedalboard) to the amp and my guitar. About this time, I notice that I've forgotten my sheet music in Chicago. Luckily, Nick, the regular guitarist in the band, is well-prepared, and happy to share his parts with me. The rehearsal begins with one of Tim's charts called "Rubbernecker", which is dedicated to all the Looky-Loo's in Los Angeles. Mark's energy translates directly into his performance, and I'm knocked out by his creativity and outrageous style. It's going to be fun to play next to him! Also, the drummer (Tom) is SLAMMIN'. I heard this guy play when we did the readings of TranZendental Danse of Joi, and he was sight-reading his Vinnie Colaiuta-esque part perfectly by the second pass!
We start rehearsing "Chocolate Requiem" -- my favorite Tim Davies chart of all time. I've decided to use the Whammy pedal for a chorus sound, and it sounds pretty dang good! Things are coming together, and then Mr. Kull suggest that we "open up this tune". What does that mean, oh ye non-jazz-squares of cyberspace? It means "get out your pencils, the director is going to restructure the chart". Now in the classical world, this would be outright sacrilege -- but in jazz, it don't mean a thing. EXCEPT that it means you better write down what's being changed! Now I've got the first additional solo, and Mark has the second. We start back up... and I'm so pumped to play that I come in early and stomp all over the trombonist's solo... nice move, Bonney. But everyone's very cool about it, and we make it though, no problems.
Next is "Iron Chef Big Band" -- this is a big deal for this band, because the TV show, "Iron Chef" is HUGE here -- they even name their heirarchy of bands after the chefs on the show (they're all called Miramoto Band, and Fujiyama Band, and Hari-Kari Band...). I switch the Whammy pedal to "2 octaves up", kick on my "Twilight Zone"-mod Metal Zone pedal, and we're really to RAGE. Mr. Kull decides to open this tune up too, and so I fake my way through the freakier changes with over-Whammified wackiness that sounds more like I'm tuning in a short wave radio than playing the guitar...
Rehearsal is finished! Mark, Jim, and I hop in Jim's van, pick up his daughter from dance class, and head over to the Kull Casbah for pizza and the pre-concert chill. We talk about movies, careers, politics... and before we know it, we're headed back to the school!
Before everything starts, I run onstage to double-check my gear and my tuning. They've brought a new amp for me (the last one wasn't loud enough -- he he), and so I lean my guitar on Mark's rig while I'm re-patching cables. A minute later I hear a "WHOOMP" and a few of the audience members let out a gasp. Yes -- once again, my Music Man guitar has taken a digger. Fortunately, it's fallen onto it's back, so aside from some loose locking tuners, everything is AOK. After all the crashes and bashes this guitar has survived (without a scratch), I think I've come up with a nickname for it -- TONKA.
The concert sounds great -- occasionally during tunes, Jim Kull points out rising stars in this program, but they need no indication -- their playing speaks for itself. The bass player in the third band that is DEFINING the groove. The trumpet section in the second band that already shows great power and polish. He's excited about the future of this program, and I can't say that I blame him!
It's getting close to that time, and so I review my scales and theory and try to think through the structure of the solo breaks that I have -- pentatonic here... modulate... dorian mode here... phrygian mode there... diminished stuff here... hold back... build up... OK, cool. I go back to the side of the stage in time to catch Justin's trumpet solo on a Duke Ellington chart. There's nothing fancy or technical about what he's chosen to play, but it's expressive, and musical, and totally awesome. I realize that he's just being "in the moment", playing what his ear is telling him would sound good. Inspired by what I've heard, I decide to chuck all the theory and licks -- for better or for worse, I'm just gonna play whatever comes to me, and see what comes out.
Finally, it's my chance to join the group onstage, and I run out to plug in. Only problem is that the amp is on top of my cables. And my gear is unplugged. And power for the amp has been switched off. And I don't have a music stand. Hey, no problem -- that's how it goes! Nick helps me get the gear back into gear, and soon we're ready to go. My first entrance in "Chocolate Requiem" is a very exposed funk rhythm part, and I come in TOO LOUD. Grab at the volume knob on my guitar -- oop -- too soft! TOO LOUD too soft TOO Loud too SOFT -- there we go! Next thing I know, I'm grooving out and Mark is yelling to me, "YOU'RE UP!!!". Oh yeah -- we're many bars into my solo section and I'm backing up NOBODY. Shift gears, start soloing mindlessly, and my break which seemed so long in rehearsal is now OVER. Back to rhythm guitar!
Next up -- "Iron Chef". Everyone is pumped. The audience is bracing itself. The band starts with a bloodcurdling scream, and then the rhythm section is laying down this head-banging, ear-grinding, Death-Metal riff. The bassist, drummer and I have locked UP and the groove feels HEAVY. Solos come up, and I'm over-Whammifying everything in my path (note to self: try having more taste with the toys next time!), but hey, at least I'm "in the moment"! And I do spontaneously come up with this Arabic sounding idea that I like, but soon I can't decide where I'm going to go with it, so I'm back to the short-wave radio effects again...
But we had a blast -- I'm honestly not sure whether the audience thought, but the whole band sounds huge and fierce, and we had a great time.
Special thanks to Jim and Gil for having me out to play, and to the band for being so excited about the music and ALIVE in the performance of it. I'll look forward to the next time we can make music together. Best wishes, St. Charles East!!!
I arrive without getting lost -- although I do call Nicki on my cell phone at one point to make sure I haven't missed a turn. I jump out of the car and grab my gear. Some students are nearby, rocking out to their cranked car stereo (I'd swear it was the riff from Dio's "Holy Diver"...?) -- this can only be a good omen. After all, I've come to the St. Charles East jazz program to stop all this swingin' and play straight 8th's with TONS of distortion.
And hopefully not play any wrong notes.
I meet Jim Kull and Mark Maegdlin onstage. Mark is a very positive, high-energy cat, and I like him immediately. His organ rig is all set up, so I busy myself patching in the Hyper-Sophisto-Sonic-Mutation-Station (a.k.a. my pedalboard) to the amp and my guitar. About this time, I notice that I've forgotten my sheet music in Chicago. Luckily, Nick, the regular guitarist in the band, is well-prepared, and happy to share his parts with me. The rehearsal begins with one of Tim's charts called "Rubbernecker", which is dedicated to all the Looky-Loo's in Los Angeles. Mark's energy translates directly into his performance, and I'm knocked out by his creativity and outrageous style. It's going to be fun to play next to him! Also, the drummer (Tom) is SLAMMIN'. I heard this guy play when we did the readings of TranZendental Danse of Joi, and he was sight-reading his Vinnie Colaiuta-esque part perfectly by the second pass!
We start rehearsing "Chocolate Requiem" -- my favorite Tim Davies chart of all time. I've decided to use the Whammy pedal for a chorus sound, and it sounds pretty dang good! Things are coming together, and then Mr. Kull suggest that we "open up this tune". What does that mean, oh ye non-jazz-squares of cyberspace? It means "get out your pencils, the director is going to restructure the chart". Now in the classical world, this would be outright sacrilege -- but in jazz, it don't mean a thing. EXCEPT that it means you better write down what's being changed! Now I've got the first additional solo, and Mark has the second. We start back up... and I'm so pumped to play that I come in early and stomp all over the trombonist's solo... nice move, Bonney. But everyone's very cool about it, and we make it though, no problems.
Next is "Iron Chef Big Band" -- this is a big deal for this band, because the TV show, "Iron Chef" is HUGE here -- they even name their heirarchy of bands after the chefs on the show (they're all called Miramoto Band, and Fujiyama Band, and Hari-Kari Band...). I switch the Whammy pedal to "2 octaves up", kick on my "Twilight Zone"-mod Metal Zone pedal, and we're really to RAGE. Mr. Kull decides to open this tune up too, and so I fake my way through the freakier changes with over-Whammified wackiness that sounds more like I'm tuning in a short wave radio than playing the guitar...
Rehearsal is finished! Mark, Jim, and I hop in Jim's van, pick up his daughter from dance class, and head over to the Kull Casbah for pizza and the pre-concert chill. We talk about movies, careers, politics... and before we know it, we're headed back to the school!
Before everything starts, I run onstage to double-check my gear and my tuning. They've brought a new amp for me (the last one wasn't loud enough -- he he), and so I lean my guitar on Mark's rig while I'm re-patching cables. A minute later I hear a "WHOOMP" and a few of the audience members let out a gasp. Yes -- once again, my Music Man guitar has taken a digger. Fortunately, it's fallen onto it's back, so aside from some loose locking tuners, everything is AOK. After all the crashes and bashes this guitar has survived (without a scratch), I think I've come up with a nickname for it -- TONKA.
The concert sounds great -- occasionally during tunes, Jim Kull points out rising stars in this program, but they need no indication -- their playing speaks for itself. The bass player in the third band that is DEFINING the groove. The trumpet section in the second band that already shows great power and polish. He's excited about the future of this program, and I can't say that I blame him!
It's getting close to that time, and so I review my scales and theory and try to think through the structure of the solo breaks that I have -- pentatonic here... modulate... dorian mode here... phrygian mode there... diminished stuff here... hold back... build up... OK, cool. I go back to the side of the stage in time to catch Justin's trumpet solo on a Duke Ellington chart. There's nothing fancy or technical about what he's chosen to play, but it's expressive, and musical, and totally awesome. I realize that he's just being "in the moment", playing what his ear is telling him would sound good. Inspired by what I've heard, I decide to chuck all the theory and licks -- for better or for worse, I'm just gonna play whatever comes to me, and see what comes out.
Finally, it's my chance to join the group onstage, and I run out to plug in. Only problem is that the amp is on top of my cables. And my gear is unplugged. And power for the amp has been switched off. And I don't have a music stand. Hey, no problem -- that's how it goes! Nick helps me get the gear back into gear, and soon we're ready to go. My first entrance in "Chocolate Requiem" is a very exposed funk rhythm part, and I come in TOO LOUD. Grab at the volume knob on my guitar -- oop -- too soft! TOO LOUD too soft TOO Loud too SOFT -- there we go! Next thing I know, I'm grooving out and Mark is yelling to me, "YOU'RE UP!!!". Oh yeah -- we're many bars into my solo section and I'm backing up NOBODY. Shift gears, start soloing mindlessly, and my break which seemed so long in rehearsal is now OVER. Back to rhythm guitar!
Next up -- "Iron Chef". Everyone is pumped. The audience is bracing itself. The band starts with a bloodcurdling scream, and then the rhythm section is laying down this head-banging, ear-grinding, Death-Metal riff. The bassist, drummer and I have locked UP and the groove feels HEAVY. Solos come up, and I'm over-Whammifying everything in my path (note to self: try having more taste with the toys next time!), but hey, at least I'm "in the moment"! And I do spontaneously come up with this Arabic sounding idea that I like, but soon I can't decide where I'm going to go with it, so I'm back to the short-wave radio effects again...
But we had a blast -- I'm honestly not sure whether the audience thought, but the whole band sounds huge and fierce, and we had a great time.
Special thanks to Jim and Gil for having me out to play, and to the band for being so excited about the music and ALIVE in the performance of it. I'll look forward to the next time we can make music together. Best wishes, St. Charles East!!!
2 Comments:
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lets try this again...
Yes that was a DIO riff you heard. Not one thing can get you ready for a night of Tim Davies tunes like a loud blast of HOLY DIVER. The concert was one of a mad man but what other group in Illinos could pull off a mix of the Duke and Mr. Tim Davies?
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