Birth of a Band 5

By March 9th we were still only managing a single rehearsal per month, although in our defence, our rehearsals were (are) five or six hour marathons in which a lot of work is done, but now with our second drummer in place, we were already two months behind where we had wanted to be originally – ie a gigging band.

The rehearsal with Angus on March 9th went well and we decided it would be good to get another, midweek session in to keep the momentum going. This meant rehearsing without George. After some email and organisational kerfuffle, we found a slot at the West Star rehearsal rooms in High Wycombe on Wednesday 13th March… In the evening, of course. It was still looking as though I would never get rehearsals during weekdays!

The midweek session was good in more ways than one. Yes, it furthered us along the route of getting the songs into our bones, but, for me certainly, more importantly it showed us that we could function as a trio perfectly well. Ever since I was young boy I haven’t played the silver ball, but I have wanted to be in a power trio. A trio is the best rock combo as far as I’m concerned. It gives a freedom to all three players and a simplicity and space to the sound. Once again, I was hit by realisation that Custard Cream could indeed be a force to be reckoned with.

Plans were made for a full rehearsal on March 23rd…

… but George couldn’t make it…

… So we did it as a trio again. It was good.

By this time I had re-recorded all of the guitar, bass and vocals over the top of Angus’ drumming and, combined with the crowd sounds from an open mic night, I thought it sounded as good as can be expected. The recording sessions were short and mistakes were allowed to stay because we were trying to make a live sound, but once I had finished the mix downs, Nige was unhappy with his guitar parts. Of course, we could record them again, but, as I explained to Nige, I was missing out on earning money – over two-months’ worth and counting. We decided to go with what we had and I put together a medley of the best bits.

Despite my moaning, there were signs that we were making progress. We had another full rehearsal booked for April 6th, we had a few songs and a medley produced to tout for work and Angus, it transpired, was a designer and he came up with a flyer that was to become our emblem (see above) – and I came up with the slogan: Blues on the Rocks. A package was evolving.

On top of this, Nige was getting some gigs booked. We were moving into April and we had gigs lined up fairly regularly from the middle of May.

One early gig was booked in and looked to be our first – May 10th at The Hobgoblin in Maidenhead. The girl who looks after bookings there, Carly, said that (and I quote) “Before we go any further I just have to let you know that although we can’t afford to pay bands properly for their time, we can offer a percentage of the bar takings for the duration of the show if we book you. It’s 10% from the moment you start to the moment you finish, which is on average around £100 usually.” (Grammar corrected by me). A percentage of the takings! What a load of bollocks that is. Not to mention “we can’t afford”. The Hobgoblin is a large pub on Maidenhead High Street that takes hundreds and hundreds of pounds on a Saturday. Believe me, they can afford to pay a band for its work. They just don’t want to!

But it was academic. George couldn’t make May 10th!

Quantifying the process

Just finished writing my private diary – a good old-fashioned notebook, which I make entries using a pen (gosh! How quaint!). It is something I am trying to make a habit out of, in order to compile something of a record of this final ‘push’ in my life to achieve something I value.

Robert Fripp says ‘to try is to fail’ and how right he is. But my trying here is a step on the road to a discipline and it is more succeeding than failing and it will become less trying and more doing until it is established as a habit. And a habit is a hard thing to break.

I mention Fripp because (a) I always do and (b) because shortly before writing my own diary, I saw this on his entry for April 11th 2011…

The Aims Of The Diaries.

Public Aims:
1. To engage the listening community at an earlier stage of the creative process than is commonly available.
2. To inform the listening community of the practicalities of that process.
3. To de-mystify the process which is, essentially, practical.

Private Aims:
1. To encourage the Diarist to recapitulate their experience.
2. To provide the Diarist with a pointed stick.
3. To expose the Diarist to public ridicule.

And, of course, this is exactly what I had wanted to do with this blog, only hadn’t been able to articulate it quite so succinctly.

Now, some might say it is an act of sensible modesty to consider one’s work with music (which nobody much listens to nor cares about) uninteresting enough to leave well alone, but it is precisely points 1.1 and 2.3 that encapsulate everything I want to do. I want to show that even I can make music and it is no big thing as far as I am concerned (music, is a big thing, but the fact that it is willing to work with me means (a) music is utterly wonderful and (b) music doesn’t care who it works with – it simply wants to work with you/one/etc…

Pont 2.3 explains that, while putting one’s self in the ‘limelight’ by saying, here I am, I am a musician, one is actually still a human being and needs a bit of humility in order to prevent the (oh so frequent) crawling up one’s own arse in search of illumination.

I certainly hope I never do that.

So, blogging will be my public diary. There won’t be the revelations of scandal of anything any publisher might be interested in, in fact, it will all be a bit dull, but it will provide a simple man’s search for music and how that process is available to all.

Tomorrow will see the first public airing of a new auralorama, so please stay tuned, as I feel that it will also herald a new direction – all tied in nicely with the various social faces I have on show and all, hopefully, indicative of normality.

But feel free to ridicule…