theclubsinger

Working as a musician most of my adult life, I’ve had an opportunity to play with some amazingly talented people. There’s also been a fair share of strange ones; here’s a few examples…

Lola: A petite, twenty-five year old fiery-haired backup singer with a four octave range and a fondness for opiates, Lola decided to share a little detail about what she does after a gig.  As we both changed from our costumes after a show one night, she uttered “I don’t know about you, but I get all sweaty and everything and I just have to smell my underwear at the end of the night!”  

Kurt:  A salt-and pepper haired fifty-year old saxophone player who could play jazz and rock equally well, and even sang backups.  Unfortunately Kurt wasn’t around very long because he was convinced ‘they’ were spying on him. We asked who ’they’ were but he never did, because according to him ‘they’ were recording his every move.  This explains why the walls of his apartment were completely lined with tin foil.

Brad: A talented, forty-something fill-in guitarist, Brad was great at reading charts and was a go-to for anything – especially formal jobs with a sit-down orchestra. We were flummoxed as we watched Brad proudly standing anytime he had a solo, twirling about as if he had a spotlight and television cameras streaming upon him. These maneuvers made us giddy, and soon enough everyone else in the orchestra followed suit.  There’s something really funny about seeing a drummer standing during a drum solo.

Dan:  A diminutive thirty-year old guy, Dan played a great blues guitar but smelled exactly like a salad bar. With extra onions.  We all tried to get to the bottom of this unpleasant smell of his, and after a few weeks of hemming and hawing and hoping the smell would dissipate, I finally asked him what kind of deodorant he used. Needless to say this wasn’t the best approach and we soon were looking for a new guitar player.

Vinny:  I was impressed with this nearly 70-year-old spitfire of a man, with his gray hair and big drum set, he had an impressive amount of energy, pounding away on song after song. One day I was startled when I looked over to see him unconsciously playing with his entire set of false teeth with his tongue, pushing them out, pulling them back in his mouth during a drum solo…something I can never unsee.

Zack: A wiry, curly-haired rocker bassist in his mid-twenties who we had suspected was perpetually high.  Zack was always smiling and always late for rehearsals as if he was coming from something way better than what we were doing. Then one night when he showed up late for a gig, his explanation to the band was, “Don’t bring me down from my high, dudes”.  Suspicions confirmed.

Marty:  As a society band leader, Marty and all his quirks deserve an entire chapter, but I’ll start with his biggie. The directions he’d send for jobs were always based on ‘no-tolls’ routes – never the best way – because he was cheap.  If he had to check out a new band or musician at a club, and there was a cover charge (even if it was five dollars – Marty wasn’t paying), he’d linger at the entrance, saying “I can hear them from here … I’m good.” A trivia fan, the man never watched Jeopardy on television, choosing to only listen to it on the radio – and I think you know why.