Incomprehensible live music...?

[trapdoor2]

I really shouldn't complain. We were starving and it was 6pm on Saturday night (tonight). The cupboard was bare, so we went looking for someplace to have a quiet meal.

Passing miles of packed restaurants, we settled on one of our "pretty good" bistros. There were empty parking spaces...looked good.

Until we walked in. I thought it was karaoke night for a moment. You know, that guy that can't quite hit pitch but thinks he's (insert real singer). Yah, there's a guy in the corner with a Wal-Mart guitar and a laptop. I can't quite catch what he's singing...but he's giving it the full gospel shout treatment. His guitar playing is limited to backbeat down-strum, thumb only. Rhythm, mostly improv. Certainly a different drummer.

We were seated before I finally figure out what he's singing: "Sweet Home Alabama". I look over at Miz Diane and she sez in a half strangled whisper, "Don't look at me! I'll laugh and squirt iced tea thru my nose!"

OMG, I'm going to hell for this. We almost lost it when we saw the bartender and barmaid doubled over as he started on a Sinatra tune. No guitar there, he just sang along with the computer band. Sounded like someone singing along with the radio in the car...faking his way thru unremembered lyrics, mumbling, flights of travesty, etc.

Then, "Wagon Wheel", of course...with more gospel shouts and hallelujahs. Incomprehensible. Inconceivable.

The food was good...and to his credit, he kept the volume moderate.

It really brought back memories though. Back when we were dating, we ate at a fancy restaurant that had a lounge singer. Big blonde gal at the piano in a sparkly dress...but we'd stepped into the Twilight Zone lounge. She was singing in Swedish or Icelandic or Inuit or something (although we were in North Alabama). We sat and listened for a few minutes...and Miz Diane leans over and sez...it's "Snowbird". No!...but she sang "spread your tiny wings and fly away..." except it was spelled: spredyrti nywi ngsa ndflia waaay..." All the accents were displaced, whole stanzas were run-on. We spent the evening playing "name that tune".

This is why I refuse to play out. I could be that guy!

 

[RodeoTex]

Ha! Great night out.
I remember once skipping a day in high school and riding along with another guy to Flagstaff to have his car repaired.
Ended up waiting in stone old store front that was a hippie coffee shop.
Hippie guy on a stool with a guitar making noises. Some of it almost sounded familiar. He told us afterward it was Hey Joe.
(I had carrot juice. Wasn't bad. )

 

[brookdalebill]

I have heard a few, uh, artist-dudes over the years making, uh, ambient sounds while holding guitars.
Lucky them, they were all paid gigs!
It reinforced the universal truth that beauty is in the eye (ear?) of the beholder.
Tune-loving me was amused, and perplexed, but hey, no one was getting hurt.
The venues I heard them in were all established, viable and venerable places.

 

[notmyusualuserid]

Musicians are the harshest critics of other musicians. It's an incontrovertible fact.

My wife helps me keep a grip on reality. "You're not up there", she tells me, "so have a night off".

She's usually right.

 

[Fretting out]

I love it!

At least it wasn’t unbearably loud

I don’t go to a lot of live music restaurants but went to one not long ago, the guy was way too loud for the room, could have just had an unplugged acoustic and a mic for vocals, had both through a p.a that would be more than enough for a room four times it’s size

 

[4pickupguy]

Even if the act is marginal I will usually go out of my way to clap and at least acknowledge the end of the tune rather than have a musician stop to dead silence. Those are tuff gigs. Its far easier to hide in a band. If they are just awful we will grab a seat way in the back or another room. If they are really really bad I won’t even finish my beer and leave to post about it. If they are really really really bad I will post a video of them claiming “I know, I wasn’t there, but…”

 

[dougstrum]

Musicians are the harshest critics of other musicians. It's an incontrovertible fact.

My wife helps me keep a grip on reality. "You're not up there", she tells me, "so have a night off".

She's usually right.

Actually I think we are our own worst critics; at least in my case

 

[notmyusualuserid]

Actually I think we are our own worst critics; at least in my case

Those of us who are self aware are

 

[Papanate]

I really shouldn't complain. We were starving and it was 6pm on Saturday night (tonight). The cupboard was bare, so we went looking for someplace to have a quiet meal.

Passing miles of packed restaurants, we settled on one of our "pretty good" bistros. There were empty parking spaces...looked good.

Until we walked in. I thought it was karaoke night for a moment. You know, that guy that can't quite hit pitch but thinks he's (insert real singer). Yah, there's a guy in the corner with a Wal-Mart guitar and a laptop. I can't quite catch what he's singing...but he's giving it the full gospel shout treatment. His guitar playing is limited to backbeat down-strum, thumb only. Rhythm, mostly improv. Certainly a different drummer.

We were seated before I finally figure out what he's singing: "Sweet Home Alabama". I look over at Miz Diane and she sez in a half strangled whisper, "Don't look at me! I'll laugh and squirt iced tea thru my nose!"

OMG, I'm going to hell for this. We almost lost it when we saw the bartender and barmaid doubled over as he started on a Sinatra tune. No guitar there, he just sang along with the computer band. Sounded like someone singing along with the radio in the car...faking his way thru unremembered lyrics, mumbling, flights of travesty, etc.

Then, "Wagon Wheel", of course...with more gospel shouts and hallelujahs. Incomprehensible. Inconceivable.

The food was good...and to his credit, he kept the volume moderate.

It really brought back memories though. Back when we were dating, we ate at a fancy restaurant that had a lounge singer. Big blonde gal at the piano in a sparkly dress...but we'd stepped into the Twilight Zone lounge. She was singing in Swedish or Icelandic or Inuit or something (although we were in North Alabama). We sat and listened for a few minutes...and Miz Diane leans over and sez...it's "Snowbird". No!...but she sang "spread your tiny wings and fly away..." except it was spelled: spredyrti nywi ngsa ndflia waaay..." All the accents were displaced, whole stanzas were run-on. We spent the evening playing "name that tune".

This is why I refuse to play out. I could be that guy!

Maybe he got the gig because he's entertaining - you and Mz Diane had a great time listening to him right?

 

[Mjark]

Last Saturday night there was some guy at the end of bar nearest the stage scowling with his arms folded across his chest in classic critique pose. He left at some point I didn’t notice.

 

[trapdoor2]

Maybe he got the gig because he's entertaining - you and Mz Diane had a great time listening to him right?

Mmmmmm...No. It was awkward. If he'd been louder, we would never have sat down. In between songs he was mumbling and scrolling on his laptop. Miz Diane asked me if I thought he was checking his email. I almost spit out a french fry.

Reminded me a lot of open mic night at a coffee-house I used to haunt. But then it would have been two tunes and...NEXT! It limits the suffering.

We enjoyed the food. We bailed as soon as the check was paid. We'll go back...but not on a Saturday night!

And...yes, musicians are their own worst critics. As the in-house historian at a banjo camp, I had to lead off the show on Faculty Jam Night...scared spitless to play in front of the Nashville Cats waiting in the wings behind me.

They were very nice to me and I was invited back each year.

 

[getbent]

Last Saturday night there was some guy at the end of bar nearest the stage scowling with his arms folded across his chest in classic critique pose. He left at some point I didn’t notice.

That made me think of a festival we used to play all the time. It was the fiddle player's home town and he'd always have a HUGE party after we played (which we'd play for hours there, so two setups and breakdowns in one day and like 6 hours of playing which was HUGE fun and usually bbq's oysters and plenty of cold beer)

Anyway, his family and friends (the whole town) would pack the tent and people would be crowded all around to hear us... it was very fun...

BUT.... we did 'East Bound and Down' and I took a degree of pride in playing it well. In the second half of the song, I used a harmony pedal to do the twin guitar part and the fiddle player would join in the third time around, I thought it was pretty cool and a song I don't typically hear from bands...

There were a half dozen guys off to the side staring at my hands (which is fine and I actually enjoy it usually) but a couple of them were scowling, arms crossed and I (with a big smile the whole time) am left wondering 'did they hate what I was doing? did I suck? did I hack the parts?' and after the show, as we're loading the bass player's brother is there and hanging out with him and we get introduced and he asks about my guitars and amp and pedals and kind of looks at them like a proctologist... and I recognize him as one of the scowlers!

Later, after a couple of beers, the bass player tells me 'you know my brother is a master guitar player... I mean he is a great guitar player, he plays jazz and is a very seriously great musician.' and I respond, 'have you guys played out together?' and he shook his head, 'no he hates gigging he would never gig, he said his music is for him.' I nod. Then, he said, 'he said you are pretty good which is a lot because in all the bands I've ever played in all he talked about was how bad the guitar players were.'

After I played my first real gigs in bars, I stopped the arms folded, stand in front of the guitar player staring at him stuff. When I lived in Phoenix, I used to go see a guy named Marty Mitchell. He had a great band and I would go see them to watch the guitar player. Every break I could, I'd buy him a beer and pick his brain and ask questions about how different things worked. He was a very nice guy and once he realized that I thought he was just aweseme, he seemed to enjoy answering my questions and during the gig, he'd look out for me and nod when he was going to do something cool (like the dotted 8th note trick etc)

It is so much more fun when you can find people to inspire you!

 

[Dave Hicks]

Stash's thing would probably be offputting to some, but he's clearly playing what he planned to.

 

[BigDaddyLH]

Ha! Great night out.
I remember once skipping a day in high school and riding along with another guy to Flagstaff to have his car repaired.
Ended up waiting in stone old store front that was a hippie coffee shop.
Hippie guy on a stool with a guitar making noises. Some of it almost sounded familiar. He told us afterward it was Hey Joe.
(I had carrot juice. Wasn't bad. )

"Hey Joe, where ya goin with that gobo in your hand?"

(Hippy dude will get it)

 

[getbent]

Stash's thing would probably be offputting to some, but he's clearly playing what he planned to.

a friend of mine told me once that schizophrenia is like have multiple radio stations on simultaneously and kind of listening to all of them at the same time.... that is what this is like.

 

[Mindthebull]

Laptops are not a good look for a bar performer. I see a laptop and I walk out. Just not my thing. I can watch someone play the laptop at home.

 

[getbent]

Laptops are not a good look for a bar performer. I see a laptop and I walk out. Just not my thing. I can watch someone play the laptop at home.

I used to back up a folk singer using a tele and a macbook. I don't think anyone could see it. I had all my presets on the mac and it sounded great and was easy to setup I had a lot of flexibility. Yikes. I never dreamed peeps would walk out because of it!

 

[Killing Floor]

Then, "Wagon Wheel", of course

My takeaway is everything is cool right up to this moment. Wagon Wheel is my line in the sand.

 

[mexicanyella]

I would so emphatically pay to see that guy play and stay for the whole show. Multiple LOLs while watching that, while simultaneously admiring his voice, guitar tone and sense of syncopation.

 

[arlum]

I wish I could just take a stage and play whatever without thinking much about it. I'm always too aware of the people and their opinion by their facial expressions or whatever. It would be great to just sit and play without having a clue about the room around me. Being sensitive is not always a good thing.