Black & Blue & Rock & Roll
Saturday dawns and I still have remnants of the viral effects in the respiratory region--but what are you gonna do? The rock must go on. In the evening, Gary pops by to load up gear, but before we head out we run through the new tune (newish for me and fully new for Gary), "Super Hero Drugs". When we feel prepped to play it at the gig, we zoom downtown where we find a parking spot right in front of House of Shields. Oooh. Propitious.
We chat as we drag our gear up the scarily (scary for me, anyway, cuz I'm kinda dizzy from my dang cold) steep staircase. Gary keeps insisting that we have played here before, but I'm not so sure. Finally we recall that we played a duo gig a few blocks over at Downtown Dave's--a singular gig in a sports-ish bar (?!) set up by a former piano student from my teaching days. But my memory of THAT gig is overshadowed by a whole train of thought about the student--whose name escapes me-- but I do remember his utterly unflappable shrug when he came by for his lesson and my keyboard was bloodied the day after an infamous Paradise Lounge gig (wherein I was wounded twice: once when knocked on the brow when Gary flourished his bass at the same moment I did some vaguely absurd pop pirouhette AND when the vigor of the True Margrit old set-closer, "Buying's Not Achieving" split open a cut on my fingertip). That was pretty rock & roll. For him to play my bloody keyboard. And for me to bleed for rock, too--of course.
House of Shields is a pleasant space with high ceilings decorated with rather grand medallions-- and a nice bathroom, which I always appreciate. The bands play on a sort of wee balcony, which makes it like Hotel Utah in reverse. We set up and sound check and JULIE MEYERS and entourage arrives and before we know it we are opening the set with "The Juggler's Progress" in which I am trying out a *slightly* different melody in the chorus-- which went pretty well, considering my recent respiratory distress. Some of the songs are harder than others for "Flu" Margrit to sing, but I do my best. Naked Nate joins us for the 2nd half of the set & it's superfun to rock out with him on drums and I guess I get riled up by the last song, cuz I sing an actual spoonerism! In "Members Only" the verse that goes:
Endowed in ways I was not born
A blushing fuschia unicorn
But this time I sing it:
...A flushing buschia unicorn..
I can see and hear Sarah laughing at my blunder and struggle to sing the rest of the song withhout bursting into uncontrollable gales of mirth. Then at the end of the song, as I dismount the keyboard ( uh, well, if you haven't come to a True Margrit show...ah, don't ask), I accidentally kick over my beer smashing the glass, soaking my setlist, my hoodie, and nearly capsizing my own self. And that's the end of the show. Buh-bye. Good fun! Except as soon as we finish and the other band takes the stage I realize we completely skipped the new song that we went to such pains to prepare for! Dang! Next time...
The following day I'm a bit sore in the shoulders and larynx and bruised about the knees and shins, but it's only rock & roll. And I like it.
We chat as we drag our gear up the scarily (scary for me, anyway, cuz I'm kinda dizzy from my dang cold) steep staircase. Gary keeps insisting that we have played here before, but I'm not so sure. Finally we recall that we played a duo gig a few blocks over at Downtown Dave's--a singular gig in a sports-ish bar (?!) set up by a former piano student from my teaching days. But my memory of THAT gig is overshadowed by a whole train of thought about the student--whose name escapes me-- but I do remember his utterly unflappable shrug when he came by for his lesson and my keyboard was bloodied the day after an infamous Paradise Lounge gig (wherein I was wounded twice: once when knocked on the brow when Gary flourished his bass at the same moment I did some vaguely absurd pop pirouhette AND when the vigor of the True Margrit old set-closer, "Buying's Not Achieving" split open a cut on my fingertip). That was pretty rock & roll. For him to play my bloody keyboard. And for me to bleed for rock, too--of course.
House of Shields is a pleasant space with high ceilings decorated with rather grand medallions-- and a nice bathroom, which I always appreciate. The bands play on a sort of wee balcony, which makes it like Hotel Utah in reverse. We set up and sound check and JULIE MEYERS and entourage arrives and before we know it we are opening the set with "The Juggler's Progress" in which I am trying out a *slightly* different melody in the chorus-- which went pretty well, considering my recent respiratory distress. Some of the songs are harder than others for "Flu" Margrit to sing, but I do my best. Naked Nate joins us for the 2nd half of the set & it's superfun to rock out with him on drums and I guess I get riled up by the last song, cuz I sing an actual spoonerism! In "Members Only" the verse that goes:
Endowed in ways I was not born
A blushing fuschia unicorn
But this time I sing it:
...A flushing buschia unicorn..
I can see and hear Sarah laughing at my blunder and struggle to sing the rest of the song withhout bursting into uncontrollable gales of mirth. Then at the end of the song, as I dismount the keyboard ( uh, well, if you haven't come to a True Margrit show...ah, don't ask), I accidentally kick over my beer smashing the glass, soaking my setlist, my hoodie, and nearly capsizing my own self. And that's the end of the show. Buh-bye. Good fun! Except as soon as we finish and the other band takes the stage I realize we completely skipped the new song that we went to such pains to prepare for! Dang! Next time...
The following day I'm a bit sore in the shoulders and larynx and bruised about the knees and shins, but it's only rock & roll. And I like it.
posted by Margrit | 11:08 PM
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