theclubsinger

After that Benefit gig for the boy who was allergic to everything, I thought we’d be catapulted to the mainstream … I knew that getting the band’s  name out there was key, but in retrospect our 1 AM time slot was not the best. We were still a young rock band practicing away, looking for gigs anywhere and everywhere. Much to my chagrin, we ended up working at that go-go bar (I mean the Porpoise Pub) one more time, but the money was so good –  and we had equipment to pay for. We were really struggling…

Somehow we got hooked up with an Auto Dealership Grand Opening event with a Circus theme – I wasn’t that keen but our marketing whiz convinced us it was a stepping stone.  I was thinking, things are getting worse – not better!  A CAR DEALER? What Rock Band plays for a car dealer?  NONE – that’s who…

I was stunned when I saw our band’s picture on a FULL PAGE ADVERTISEMENT in the local newspaper. My face was in the newspaper. The ad was in black and another color – red, I think …  it was major!  We were in print!  We officially had press!   At this point I officially became psyched.   The ad noted there were to be Philly Mummers, clowns, hot air balloon rides, food and refreshments, a live radio broadcast… inconceivable!!  WOW – this was going to be BIG.

At this point, although quite early in our band’s days,  I believe we already possessed excessive sound equipment.  Even though a good portion of our jobs paid very little or nothing at all,  we had to rent a truck to transport all of our stuff   The guys in the band were obsessed with volume (louder = better) and had determined that since we were playing outdoors, we would need extra speakers and amplification to ‘throw’ the sound.  Throw it where?  To another zip code ? This was a parking lot of a car dealership – not Shea Stadium; I wasn’t getting it.  I think the gig paid two hundred dollars and there were five of us – plus the light man and the sound man, oh and the truck rental – in other words, this was another benefit.

It took us a couple of hours to set up for the show – and we were under the big-top tent.  With all of that equipment surrounding us, we certainly looked like we knew what was going on – I was feeling official amidst the circus-like atmosphere that was developing. The parking lot in front of us was just a sea of colors: creepy killer clowns with those big red shoes, strolling about with their suspicious grins ( once I saw the movie Killer Clowns from Outer Space, I have never been able to look at a clown) and goofy mummers, strumming their banjos in their freakishly large and glittery costumes–already  looking slightly drunk. If you don’t know about the mummers, they are a Philadelphia tradition.  They are known for their huge New Years’ parade, their music and most importantly, their remarkable joie de vivre ….

Then there was the food – there was food everywhere.  Multiple foodaterias. Funnel cake depots.  Hotdoghausens. Grillmeisters. Smokeroos. Cotton Candy wind machinerators.  Pretzelflugen stations… It was a conglomeration of every festival and circus food taste and/or smell you could imagine.

The spectacle of it all was punctuated by an almost-fully-inflated enormous hot air balloon. At the opposite end of the car lot loomed the giant, blue and red circus-themed inflatable with a team of guys and equipment surrounding it. In matching dark blue clothing, I called them Team Hot Air. They were working on what was surely going to be the highlight of the festivities. Liftoff!   It was a humungous party. A circus festival. For an auto dealership.  Toyotas, I think…

Our show finally began around 2pm, and we were sonic boom loud.  With the first verse of our first song (nothing says rock and roll like Ozzy’s ‘Crazy Train’), the wave of sound we unleashed upon the potential car buyer folks was like a bat out of hell during an earthquake.  Other than confused little kids who were freed by their parents for the afternoon, every one retreated to a tolerable distance by running far away from our stage.  The Hot Air balloon opposite us started jostling around and seemed to stall with the inflation process:  Team Hot Air grappled with it, adjusting the burners in its tanks, jockeying the basket around and trying their best to handle the tsunami of sound waves pummeling it.  Then it started quivering, losing it’s roundness and began listing to the left.  I thought it might have been the wind, but by the end of Crazy Train, that poor balloon was clearly hurting. With each song, it became more flaccid. It was not meant to be for the big red and blue’s sendoff to the skies that sunny Saturday …it was difficult to watch Team Hot Air struggle so valiantly as their great balloon was unable to achieve lift off.

The little children who escaped from their parents, though, were another matter. Probably somewhere between age 7 and 12, they were mesmerized by the band. Maybe it was our volume that had them at a confused standstill … not sure, but they didn’t, or couldn’t move. They were zombified. They stayed front and center until our break, looking awestruck by our every move.   At the end of our set they all rushed to meet us at the side of the stage, clamoring for our autographs. I  thought it was just ridiculous, watching them line up for our guitar player who could have been impersonating Leif Garrett (the young cute version). They had to be ill from the sound, or maybe it was too much cotton candy or something. But then they started to trickle over my way, and one by one, they asked me for an autograph.  At first I just laughed it off, saying ‘geez kids, what do you want this for?’  That first little boy, with that look so disappointed… and then it hit me – I was here to entertain, and for that day I was their Rock Star. So I just smiled big, signed my name and started to enjoy the ride.