How do you salsa dance? Easy, first drink. A lot.

After working at Grand Central Music all day selling guitars (the things we resort to to survive!) I went down to the Drum Circuit to watch my friend Dale Moon give a free drum clinic. I showed up mainly to support him, I already know his schtick, but I wanted to represent as a friend. To my surprise, it was standing room only. As I drove up people were literally standing outside, straining their necks through the door to catch a view.

Then to Grappolos, the best jazz gig in town. Oh, how I miss that place. Darryl Voss plays there every thursday, and for the last two months, my schedule didn't work with his rotating cast of players. Now it's the 'Darryl Voss Latin Trio' with Larry Errone on Piano, who is a superb latin jazz player.

The vibe in there is so happening. It's turning into the hip spot. The people I recognize were people I know are too hip for me. And I'm pretty hip, dammit!

Beautiful shaking of the hips, people lost in the rhythm. Dim lights, loud atmosphere. Drinks flowing, the owner being a big fan of Latin music. Building up energy with thematic, climactic solos that ecstatic reactions from kids who don't normally listen to jazz.

I'll be there every other thursday for the next two months, and it's now the highlight of my week.

Salsa on Youtube:

Sabroso played last Thursday night. This footage is pretty much a timbale feature, considering the timbale player's wife, filmed it, and it smokes:



The best part in this song is when Dave (timbales) fakes us out with his cue at the end of the solo. It's supposed to be this great, big drum roll, then full band break with a horn line. He rolls the big roll twice before he breaks and you can see and hear us all laughing and yelling!

Drunk Hank has done it again.

So the Playbacks were scheduled to play at the Frog and Peach Pub on Saturday, after getting a call from Hank (the bar manager) two weeks ago saying that another band had cancelled.

Then, Wednesday night, we get a call that the other band now wants their slot back.

Being the poor business man that Hank is, he gives it to them and calls us to tell us that we're cancelled. Even though it's he advertised us in the New Times and I had just put fliers up all around downtown.

Our singer is livid. I'm understandably angry, but I also know that the bar scene sucks and these sorts of things happen?

So I run into the Travis Larson Band last night, and they said that Hank tried to cancel them at the Frog and Peach for their thursday night gig cause Hank had double booked. They were in the paper as well. They went out of their way to contact the other band and tell them to screw off. They are a hard working band, and if the gig is advertised in the paper, well dammit, they're gonna play it.

What a mess Drunk Hank is ending up to be. Twice in one week!

To be completely honest, I'm actually looking foreword to not playing on a saturday night for a change, being that I had already landed another gig during the day.

A funny thing happened to me....

Ray Chang called me and told me that our regular friday gig at Steamers in Pismo Beach was cancelled this week. Apparently, "The restaurant was going to try something different". Which was fine with me, that friday gig was starting to grow weary.

However, not 30 minutes later, I get a call from Sonny Wright, jazz vocalist. She says, "Would you like to play drums friday night at Steamers?" Their normal drummer couldn't make it, and I had recently played a gig on drums with Joe Duran, the bass player who plays with Sonny. He dug my style and told Sonny that I could hang.

So I had a blast. And I hung in there, swinging, latin, funk. Good times.



And audio from the recording session two weeks ago. Because there are some edits to be made, I've just highlighted my own playing in these cuts. I don't want to put someone else's unfinished audio up on the internet. So that's my excuse for being completely narcissistic and just putting up my bass solos....

Up In The Sky

Beautiful Love

Day 16

Today is the 16th day in a row of playing every single night.

8 of those days were paid gigs
8 of those days had work before play
1 of those days was in Fresno
All of those days make me tired.

Ahhh, Fresno.

Our hero pulls into the run-down town of Fresno with all his gear in tow. 'Great place for a gig' he thinks. He's been a little bit jaded as of late, too many crappy gigs for too little pay. But he rolls with the punches and moves on.

Upon finding the place he can't believe his eyes. Its a brown and grey desolate neighborhood. Homeless people walking like zombies through the streets. Some sort of 3-block-large food processing plant across the street. 'At least the club looks decent from the street,' he thinks.

Recognizing another musician's car out front, he knows he found the right place. Parking, and locking every door twice, he steps out. A gust of dirt-carrying wind hits him in the face and he recognizes the smell. It's like a cross between a dairy, a meth-amphetamines laboratory, and dirty socks. Ahhh, the smell of Fresno.

He knocks on the door and looks around him. It appears there is a drug deal going down at the end of the street. The woman, hair nappy and clothes disheveled, walking towards the man on the left side of the street. The man, with loafers and a flannel shirt, is walking from the opposite direction on the right hand side of the street. They both do the old 'look both ways before you cross the street to buy some crack' head turn and meet in the middle of the road. A quick transaction, so subtle it's as if they have been practicing slight of hand with famous magicians. They scatter.

Enthralled in this, he doesn't notice the door opening in front of him. Our hero turns around and instantly gasps a little bit, caught off guard and unsure of how to act or what to do.

The fellow at the door is an older gentleman with a pronounced hunchback and some sort of disease that makes large, round face growths happen all over his head. When he talks, his head shakes a bit and all the skin sacks on his head wiggle around in a hypnotic fashion.

"Welcome to my club!"

Ahhh, Fresno.




Epilogue

The owner was a great guy, I was just caught off guard, you know? He can brew a mean beer too! The gig goes surprisingly well. The place filled up and it turns out we have our first fan club/street team people ever, and they all live in Godforsaken Fresno. Which means Crosby Loggins will be back.

We actually had a great show!