Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Two-gig Weekends and Battling the Wall



The Lost Artists studio, 2630 W Fletcher, Chicago.  Some interesting art coming out of this place.

A week and a half ago I had another two-gig weekend - playing at Fretknot Friday at the Independence Tap, and also with the Twangdogs at the Lost Artists Studio (shown above - you can find more at www.artcolony.info). 

The Friday gig was fun - another round with the Bad Boys Ensemble where we played Steve Winwood and Al Green songs.  It was the debut of sorts of the new sound system at the Independence Tap, a setup monitored in part with an iPad.  Kip, fellow Bad Boy musician and person running the sound, almost had the perfect setup, but when you get some 8-10 musicians on stage, something is bound to feed back.  Kip would break ranks in mid-song to tweak the sound and get us back to a good sound level.  We cut the set a bit short, but we did get to play a medley of "Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys" and "Walking in the Wind" that went well.  "Walking" is a challenge for me - the rhythm is steady, but it's the steady eighth-note on the hi-hat that wears my right thumb out.  I end up switching to the Lenny White open-style of playing, where the left hand is playing hi-hat and the right-hand is on the snare, just to give the right hand a rest.  I never feel comfortable doing that for long, though, so I'll switch back after about 8 bars.

The Saturday gig with the Twangdogs went quite well and we were well received by the audience.  Some people perused the hallways that had the resident artists' work hanging from the walls while we were playing.  We were in a fairly good-sized space, but still we were three tiers deep - Janna, Rich, and Merrie were up front, Jack, Quincy, and Jenny were in the middle row, and I got the last row.  And no matter how we set up, we end up filling about every square inch of space we can.  You could put us in the middle of the Bonneville Salt Flats and we'd still be stepping over each other.  But we read each other well during the songs, our between-song times were kept to a minimum, and I think it gave us all a really good feel going into this Saturday's gig at the Independence Tap.

As pleased as I was about Saturday, and content with Friday's gig, I still had something gnawing at me.  I bought a couple of CDs a month ago, one of which was "And If" by the Anat Fort Trio.  I saw a review of the CD in Downbeat and it piqued my curiosity (as will pretty much anything on ECM Records).  Anat plays piano, Gary Wang is the bassist, and Roland Schneider is the drummer, and in a piano trio you'll find lots of space between the musicians.  The arrangements on "And If" steer the music to even wider spaces, there's great interplay between the musicians, and in listening to it something clicked.  It had been months - years - since I heard a good piano trio, and this CD hit the spot. 

The Anat Fort Trio - for those...contemplative moments.  (It's ECM - what else would you expect?)

Then I thought about the gigs I play.  The Twangdogs, and the various ensembles, aren't the biggest groups I've played with - I think it was the "Fab Forty" Old Town School Beatles Ensemble at a Beatles Convention in Louisville around 2005 and 2006, so that record is pretty safe - but I find myself often playing with at least five or six other musicians, often in a space where I have to do a tai chi routine just to get behind the drum kit.  I certainly won't declare "Hey!  We have too many musicians here!  You, and  you, and...you - get outta here!"  But I mentioned this to John Mead and he is in agreement that guitar playing in an ensemble is as much about when to play as when not to play.  That goes for drums as well - I have no issue being in a band where a couple of songs are drummer-less. 

So the question: how does a drummer who appreciates dynamics in music coexist with 6 to 10 other musicians who want to get heard?  The answer, I think, is to accept things for what they are, and just stay steady.  The last thing I want to do is lead the whole bunch off a cliff.  Now, to find that pianist and bassist to delve into an introspective version of Bill Evans' "Re: Person I Knew"...