Oh my dear lord. Why can’t the Funk Box get the right time on their website? HATE!!! Yeah, the owner apologizes profusely, but there’s no way to ever find out how much damage something like that does. Web sites. Pish.
Tonight we brought home a stray. Not a kitten bent on flight and skies, but a fellow rockstar.
Daniel Lee has been on the road for four years – and for the past several months I’ve been hearing about him from Brennan, from Mitzi, from Amy. He’s spectacular, and deserving of a better following than he’s got. But I base that on the fact that his following is made up merely of people that have heard him. I don’t think there’s a human alive that can listen to him and not be moved. He makes me want to set my guitar down and step back from it slowly, nonchalantly… as if to say… who me? I don’t play guitar… why?
He asked me if I wanted to join him on a song – I’m glad I didn’t. I Loved being able to wander the Funk Box open mic and watch people’s reactions. People didn’t even notice me as I moved through the multicoloured light, they were transfixed by Daniel’s ferocious onstage presence.
There was a moment at the end of a song when he brought his fist down to his strings like a death blow. Silencing the feedback like he’d knifed the guitar.
Far better than Jimi Hendrix and his pansy-ass guitar torching.
We played the Funk Box open mic tonight, and by chance ran across Daniel, as well as Prout of Hudson & Prout from Mick O’Shea’s. Prout showed off what he does solo – lots of reverb and spectacular looping tricks… he turned a Howie Day cover into a techno tune worthy of a rave.
But we’ve retired from the muggy Baltimore night and have retreated to the Lloydholme. Daniel’s making three foot tall Love letters with which he plans to woo someone at dawn. Heather and I are reciting Lord of the Rings lines and getting the CDs together and being branded geeks by the Love-lorn Daniel.
And we’re ALL soooo high on marker fumes.
What an amazing night. The Funk Box was worth every moment of angst. What an amazing night. Best gig we’ve ever played, perhaps. Two djembes beat out drum kit any night. And well air-conditioned. Score. I want to play THERE forEVER.
Sitting later that morning, listening to Underfoot with Daniel, we Love to be able to Introduce incredible things to one another.
Rocking out at the Funk Box. I think it was just such a relief after everything that had gone wrong, we really let loose. It was like a soap opera leading up to this gig – both personally and professionally, and then tonnes of things with the Lloydholme (and on top of everything else, David’s truck’s air conditioning just died!)… it was such a relief just to get up there and play. I’m going to have to write it all in the Journal eventually, but I’ll have to exclude names, or SOMETHING… I don’t know. It’s just… so much as to be unbelievable.
I’m still recovering from the sheer power of last night’s gig. Getting to play the songs that MEAN so much to me, rather than just our typical “bar set” was spectacular. The fans and friends who’ve missed that really responded – much flipping, cavorting, and general joy. A good time was had by all. AND we made our quota for the night, so hopefully we’ll be returning in a couple of months.
I’ve got to admit, I don’t even feel tired. At the moment. It’s closing in on 4am, and my mind is whirling. I was exhausted moments ago, but the computer screen perks me up a bit. I AM tired of being up all night (and there’s the balance – I can feel the fatigue creeping in) – I’ve been tossing and turning for days (well, nights) it seems. Since my last Journal entry, perhaps, I’ve been unable to get comfortable, and my brain hasn’t SHUT up to allow me to sleep. I’m lucky, I get to sleep in, but there’s something a WHOLE lot less than satisfactory when you “go to bed” at 2am, but are still fully conscious for sunrise. By the time you wake up, you realize that you’ve spent the past 10 hours in bed or something, but only 3 or 4 actually sleeping. And those hours are fitful, and you wake up with the traffic, and with the birds.
The four-piece act seems to be the new favourite. The sound was crisp, clean, and thunderous when both Rowan AND Heather were on the djembes.
Insomnia is nothing new to me (I know, I know – I can’t really claim “insomnia” if I’m still getting a whole 4 hours). I ALWAYS have trouble falling asleep, always have. I hated having a bed time when I was younger because I knew I’d just lie there in the dark… waiting. My head’s always full of THINGS. I remember I used to lie awake in terror because I didn’t want to be conscious when midnight came. The first time I realized I was going to just HAVE to see the Witching Hour, I covered my head with my pillow so it would look like I was a victim of foul misdeeds. I’m not sure where I got the idea, but I think I spent much of my early childhood believing that the Headless Horseman (as visualized and animated by Walt Disney) would ride out of my closet at 12 o’clock and strike off the heads of whoever he found.
By now, it almost feels like I’ve seen more midnights than noons, and almost ALL of the daybreaks I’ve seen, despite the romance, have been involuntary.
So, tonight my brain has it’s teeth into monetary fears, Living plans, and the Future. I have an insurance bill due at the beginning of next month, and it will scrape me dry.
Now, I’ve been scraped dry before, and I know that I’ll recover. I’m not really afraid of running out of money – because things always seem to work out. I have Gallery moneys coming to me, and uncashed checks, but there’s still that nagging feeling that things are undone, and that I should be doing more. That launches me into wondering if I’m doing the right thing, if there’s any future in what I’m doing. I start thinking about how much I wish I’d never sold my Volkswagon, how nice it would be to have a camper of some sort.
I’ve been looking online, finding prices – and wishing I had a spare couple of thousand dollars. I’d kill for a new Vanagon camper, and seriously maim people for just about anything with a bed in it – as long as it runs, looks like it’ll be running for some time to come, and preferably has air conditioning (cause I’m SPOILED!!!)
It would just be nice to never have to worry about where I was going to sleep ever again, you know? AND my stomach’s bothering me, AND my boxers are riding up, AND my shoulder hurts…. man, moments like this, I wish I could still be in school. I envy Justin his pending departure. I never appreciated it at the time, but MICA was SUCH a haven from the real world.