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09 july 2000
----- I got carded for cigarettes today. I'm thirty-one years old. There's something wrong with that, or me, or both... New York airfare update ... I went to americawest.com and stumbled upon a $368 round-trip for the end of the month. This right after being quoted $900 on Continental and $600 on National (ever heard of them?) on travelocity. Guess I just got lucky. I jumped on it, of course. Hope it makes my parents' 50th just a little bit better... Last night ... I was on the dance floor at the Roxy, half-bare-chested, Dr. Seuss Cat Hat on my head, jumping up and down like a little kid, a Korg battery-powered midi controller strapped around my neck, dancing with a group of people having a lot of fun, playing with a band that was having even more fun. Four hours earlier, I had bought an extension cable for the keyboard, knowing that the Roxy was a very big club and I might have to travel further to get to the seated people around the dance floor perimeter. Instead, I kept on signalling the roadie that I was happy where I was, less than four feet from the stage. The dance floor was hoppin. The seated area was packed. We were all having a great time. This was going to be our best gig... We were on Selva's tune, a mere two songs from the end of the set. The last two songs were our strongest live... that's why we saved them for last. Out on the dance floor, watching the band, I was almost euphoric. I kept on reminding myself to save my energy, not to peak, and I didn't. What a fucking shame. We finished the tune, the roadie grabbed my porta-keyboard, and I rushed back on stage to finish the show. And the club turned off the power. They had overbooked by a band, and cut our set short by fifteen minutes. All of my saved energy went into a mini temper-tantrum backstage. It might have been our best gig. I'm still pissed, and I'd rather not write about it. As a band, we were most upset that the audience got jipped. The show wasn't finished. Such is life in the LA music scene. Howabout what went well? Well, most everything until they shut us down. I somehow managed to pull off playing and soloing without being able to see, but I still can't imagine how Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder manage it consistently. My respect for both of them just rose another notch, as if that was even possible. My new tune, "amababa," I don't even know if I sang it in key, since my monitor mix sucked, but the band grooved on it, and looking out to the audience, I saw at least five people singing along with me. Wow. What an incredible feeling. In addition to my cartoonish headgear, I was wearing a crushed purple velvet zipper-jacket that saw its last public appearance on stage with George Clinton and Parlliament Funkadelic sometime in the late 1970s. Wearable history. I daresay it affected my performance. Went back to the studio after the gig, and the band was in remarkably good spirits considering the situation ... even though we felt bad for the audience, we couldn't help but deny how much fun we were actually having on stage. From a band standpoint, we hit a milestone last night. If only they had let us finish the show. We got the gear unpacked and back into the studio, and I headed back to Hollywood to meet Fritz at Louis XIV, a French restaurant/club on LaBrea. At midnight I ordered escargot and filet mignon, and it was delicious, but I didn't get home until 3am, at which point I took that rather strange picture that goes with today's entry. I really don't look like that, but I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Suffice to say I slept rather late today. Today was mostly relaxation. I played with my roommate's cd recorder, lounged around on the beach, had a martini at the Dume Room, and attempted (mostly successfully) to bond with the roomie's teenaged daughter, who was at the gig last night and really dugit. Strange thing is, she's never heard of Duran Duran -- I was about to refresh her memory with "Save A Prayer" or "Hungry Like the Wolf," but thought better and downloaded "Ordinary World," which she knew and is now recording on a cd to take home with her. My wit is without me tonight, or vice versa. Can't seem to write anything coherent ... which is probably why I haven't been writing much lately. Maybe I'm just too content with life. I write like shit when I'm content. Gotta be either down or up for good writing. Complacency sucks. This would have been a better entry if the Roxy didn't shut us off last night. Blame it on them. Will someone please go to the forum and vote for amaebi or sweetshrimp? Gonna go catch up on email now.
In the forum: 09 july 1999: : didn't write 09 july 1998: my stomach screams : I'm keeping an eye on myself. The day I upload fiction under the guise of this journal will be the last day I write in it.
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