Johnny A at the Gothic Theatre

The Gothic Theatre is a great venue. I’ve seen a few acts there, Willy Porter, Indigenous, and The Rock Bottom Remainders among them. Tonight, I was fortunate enough to see Johnny A, with Liz Clark and another act opening. (Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get the name of the first act clearly, but he was a good guitar player with a beat up cowboy hat, glasses, a cane, and a three-word name with “Toby” at the end. If any of you know who I’m talking about, please let me know so I can update this page.)

Liz Clark is a talented young singer/songwriter from Denver, with strong pipes. She plays multiple instruments and, at age 20, she already knows how to handle a crowd. During her set, she noted that there were a couple of hecklers in the crowd — I was well aware of this, since they were sitting two chairs from me — and they quieted down for a while. There’s nothing like directing all the attention in the place to the people who are trying to get attention at a performer’s expense. Liz played several songs, one of which was a cover of Concrete Blonde’s “Tomorrow, Wendy.” All were strong songs, with well thought out lyrics. Her voice sounded at times like a couple of other female pop/rock stars, but she does have a distinctive, plaintive wail she sometimes throws in that sets her apart. I look forward to seeing Liz perform again at some of the many local venues where she appears.

Johnny A is amazing, as you might expect me to say. He’s from Boston, and currently has one release called Sometime Tuesday Morning, which spawned a local hit, “Oh Yeah.” He played two custom Les Paul guitars, strapless, with Bigsby Tremolo units on each, and he’s the first guitarist I’ve ever seen play live without an amp cabinet or at least a miked combo amp. He plugged his blonde Marshall 30th Anniversary head directly into the sound board and used the onstage monitors and stage speakers as his cabinet. This created a great tone, and when he used stereo effects pedals he was able to create a huge, swirling sound that filled the whole venue. His sound man definitely had a handle on his art.

When Johnny came on the stage, he picked up a microphone and said, “You guys are too far away. Come down here!” Many of us left our seats and gathered around the edge of the stage, and I was lucky enough to have a clear view of his hands from within ten feet. You would think maybe I learned something from that, but I can honestly say that it went right over my head. Virtuoso musicians like Johnny A and Eric Johnson approach their instruments in ways that I can’t yet comprehend. It’s like reading another language; I recognize the letters, and sometimes I pick up on a word or two, but the grammar never goes where I expect it to. It’s a humbling experience to watch someone so far beyond my abilities.

I know enough to say that Johnny’s playing is silky and fluid, with a liberal use of legato and bends. It is sometimes staccato, with funky double-stops and string snaps. I think I was most amazed when he played “Wind Cries Mary,” using a call-and-response format. He would play one phrase in his own style, then answer with Jimi’s style in the next phrase, and alternate back and forth. He carried on his own conversation with Jimi Hendrix onstage, and I was privileged enough to watch and listen. For an encore, he essentially played an extended Hendrix “Voodoo Child” medley, again incorporating his own funky style, but throwing in the occasional Hendrix lick for those of us in the crowd who hadn’t caught the initial hook.

Of course, these are the things you expected me to say. I can also say that he’s a pretty cool cat. He signed autographs after the show, and someone mentioned the “asshole” who wouldn’t shut up during the shows. (This is one of the guys Liz Clark had mentioned, earlier.) Given the opportunity to grouse about hecklers, Johnny took the high road. He said, “Oh, no, he was just having a good time. He wasn’t a problem. He was a good heckler, not a bad heckler.” When a guy is beat from a year straight of touring, can still put on a high energy show, and have nice words to say about hecklers, you gotta know there’s something more than just a talented guitar player inside him. He’s a good human being, too.

Often, after shows like this, I get bummed out about how far I have to go to be an accomplished guitarist. I started to get that feeling as I was driving up Broadway, but then I passed by Herman’s Hideaway and started to smile. You see, the last time I went to a show at the Gothic, I hadn’t played Herman’s yet. This time, I had. I guess maybe I am making some progress.

Dante Spumante at Cricket on the Hill

I played with Dante Spumante again tonight, this time at Cricket on the Hill. This gig went much better than the last one; I had a lot more confidence and felt more comfortable with the original songs. We also threw in a few covers: “Dreams,” “Rockin’ in the Free World,” “Brown-Eyed Girl,” and “All Along the Watchtower.”

The crowd seemed to like what they heard, and in general, we were much tighter than at the Herman’s Hideaway gig. Hopefully this will lead to more gigs at Cricket for Dante Spumante, and in turn, maybe more gigs for me with the band.

Thanks to everyone who showed up for this show. It helps a lot to know that there are friends out in the crowd.

Dante Spumante at Cricket on the Hill, 8/13/02. I’m the one in blue, with the Fender Stratocaster®. Brad the Drummer is hiding behind a cymbal.

Come home, Son

The Rockies beat the Cubbies 2-0 last night, and I finished painting the stairwell in its entirety this morning. Did I mention that I hate painting?

In the early evening, I went to the airport to pick up my son, who had spent the last four weeks with his Mom in Texas. I’m very glad to have him, and eternally guilt-ridden that he has to split his time between his parents because we couldn’t make it as a couple. It’s not his fault; if anybody’s, it’s mine, because I’m the one who asked for the divorce. But he’s the one suffering. I tell myself that he would be suffering more if we were together, though. I think that’s true …

While eating a late dinner at Gunther Toody’s, I got a phone call from Brad the Drummer, giving me a heads up that John from Dante Spumante was going to be calling me in the morning to see if I would be able to play with them on Tuesday night at Cricket on the Hill in Denver. I haven’t played much since we started working on the house, so I dug out the guitar and played along with the CD of our performance at Herman’s Hideaway on July 23rd. I hope John actually does call tomorrow.

Long update

It’s been a busy couple of weeks, folks, both in terms of creativity and lots of things going on. In this entry, I’m going to hit the highlights, then hopefully get back to my regular postings tomorrow. This post is a long one, but probably not as long as the individual posts would have been.

My wife and I were on vacation in Las Vegas from the 14th through the 19th, celebrating my stepson’s plunge into true adulthood. Overall, the trip went well; thanks to a royal flush on a nickel machine and some generous slot club comps from the Frontier hotel, we actually netted only a small loss and still got to see Lord of the Dance before it closed. My stepson hit two royal flushes on the same nickel machine on consecutive days, so he actually came home with more money than he took.

Normally, I would stop by to see my parents, who live outside Las Vegas. Unfortunately, they were gone the entire time I was there, because my Uncle Wayne passed away on the 12th. I wish I had gotten to see them, but I’m glad my parents were able to be with the rest of the family during that time.

While in Vegas, on the 16th, my stepson and I were trapped on the 103rd floor of the Stratosphere for nearly an hour. He wanted to ride the Big Shot on top of the hotel (by the way, did I mention that he’s insane?) He rode the ride, and we hung out on the observation deck (108th floor) for a while afterward, enjoying the view and watching the lights come up on the Strip. While we were lounging, the fire alarms went off and emergency strobe lights started flashing. After about 30 seconds, they went off, but then came on again and didn’t stop. I noted that no one seemed panicky, despite the fact that we were 1150 feet up in the air in a prime terrorist target.

Of course, when the alarms went off, the elevators (and the air conditioning, I think) automatically shut off, so we couldn’t get down. We followed the instructions to take the stairs to the 103rd floor, where about 25 of us waited with little information in a small, hot room for about 45 minutes. We were told we could not take the stairs to the bottom because it was not an emergency situation, despite the flashing strobes and alarms. Eventually, the alarms stopped, but the strobes continued and the elevators would not stop on our floor. No one really got out of control or upset, though one woman (I think she was from New York) underwent a panic attack and one security guard was rather rude and short with us.

Eventually they got the elevators reset and allowed us to go back down to the bottom of the hotel, where the tower manager refunded our money, but “didn’t have the authority” to do anything else for us. We also got an apology from the head of security for the actions of his rude employee.

Monday night, the 22nd, I got a call from my buddy Brad the Drummer. He was filling in on a gig for a band called DaNte SpUmAnTe on the 23rd at Herman’s Hideaway, and their regular guitarist was suddenly unavailable. Herman’s is well-known in Denver as a showcase club. They encourage original music with a weekly New Talent Showcase, and they feature national acts on a regular basis. Brad asked me if I would like to play with DaNte SpUmAnTe at the New Talent Showcase — the next night.

The chance to play at Herman’s was too good to pass up, so I told him I would be right over to go through the songs. The challenge before me was to learn six original songs, then perform them live in less than 24 hours, but I did it. The songwriter and keyboardist came over to Brad’s and we spun through all six songs, then I took at tape home and practiced until about 3 AM.

I think the gig went pretty well, all things considered. However, my opinion is colored by the fact that I had such a short time to prepare. I’m sure DaNte SpUmAnTe wished they had their regular guitarist with them, though they were very grateful for the help on short notice.

On the 28th, my stepson moved into his own apartment, which freed up his room as an office again. I spent the evening of the 29th moving furniture and bookshelves from the master bedroom into the spare room so I can make it into an office. I’m really looking forward to that, because it means I will have some “me space” for playing music, writing, reading, or just getting away from the rest of the world. I crave solitude sometimes, and it will be nice to have a place to go where I know no one else will be. Also, it gives me space to use my exercise bike again. Here’s the plan: Get up at 5:30 AM, exercise for 15-30 minutes, write for 30-45 minutes, then prepare for work. We’ll see how well that plan works out.