Well, last night’s show blew. It was not the return to rock, or country (or whatever the hell it is we play) as hoped. We couldn’t rise above the sterile vibe and godawful sound issues. I had my personal worst with at least five dropped sticks. This really cost me since Jay recently implemented a $5/clam rule. I think he’s been listening to the Buddy Rich tapes a bit too much. If he tells me, “No more fucking beards!”, I’m walking.
Tonight is another weird one. The venue is fully seated on the marina with a noise ordinance way below our level.