Dull as a Rock-Field Hoe. And two lead singers get into a fight.
Current mood: hungover
Category: Music
Ok, so Shannon and I need a new venue. I love the Monkey Wrench, but the bourbon flows too easily there. Plus, it was really crowded. Good show, lots of people, great music, rockin' opening band, good times.
I was supposed to blog about the fight that Shannon and I got into yesterday. My mind is a bit cloudy, however, and I'm not sure how clever or succinct my writing will be this morning. I'm feeling dull as a rock-field hoe. I'm going to try.
It was an awesome argument. It wasn't on-stage. It was before the show, in the green room, also known as Friend-Who-Lives-Close-to-the-Bar's house. We were learning a cover song we had just thrown into the setlist. It was a nice little Gram Parsons tune, and all was moving a long splendidly, when we got to the Emmylou verse. Shannon was playing the guitar, and we got into a disagreement over one chord.
We have been friends for years, and we've never even gotten into any sort of tiff. In restrospect, that's pretty odd. We're both, um, egotistical at times and completely stubborn. I suppose we'd just always been in agreement.
But then came the D-chord. He was playing a D-chord, and it was supposed to be a G-chord. (It was!)
What's really funny is that we had an audience in the next room. And if our voices hadn't been elevated with passion and anger, it would have sounded like a perfectly logical discussion about music.
In no particular order, the following things were said: It stays on the four there. No, it goes back to the one. Listen to it. Ok, here I'll put it on the iPod. See? It's a G. No, it's a D. Play it again. No, I hear why you think that, and you're hearing that note, but it's not the root. It's the one. It's the one, but that's the alternate bass, it's the five of the four chord. The melody note doesn't go if you go back to the D that soon. You're singing the wrong melody. No I'm not. Yes you are. Well maybe I am, but it's still supposed to be the four chord, the G. I know what the four chord is. I'm not saying you don't know what the four is. Ok, I'll concede the chord, but you're singing the wrong melody. Ok, see we're both right.
Looks perfectly normal, but we were in a yelling and frustration match. Then we immediately laughed our asses off and said, "Dude! We just got into a fight! Our first fight!"
And the audience in the next room laughed uncomfortably with us. We were perfectly okay, and it was all over in about three minutes. Back to BFF's.
Then we walked down to the Wrench and played a killer show. I'm still laughing about our fight. (It was totally a G chord, by the way.)
Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=19356498&blogId=470665947#ixzz0tgwZtNf2
Category: Music
Ok, so Shannon and I need a new venue. I love the Monkey Wrench, but the bourbon flows too easily there. Plus, it was really crowded. Good show, lots of people, great music, rockin' opening band, good times.
I was supposed to blog about the fight that Shannon and I got into yesterday. My mind is a bit cloudy, however, and I'm not sure how clever or succinct my writing will be this morning. I'm feeling dull as a rock-field hoe. I'm going to try.
It was an awesome argument. It wasn't on-stage. It was before the show, in the green room, also known as Friend-Who-Lives-Close-to-the-Bar's house. We were learning a cover song we had just thrown into the setlist. It was a nice little Gram Parsons tune, and all was moving a long splendidly, when we got to the Emmylou verse. Shannon was playing the guitar, and we got into a disagreement over one chord.
We have been friends for years, and we've never even gotten into any sort of tiff. In restrospect, that's pretty odd. We're both, um, egotistical at times and completely stubborn. I suppose we'd just always been in agreement.
But then came the D-chord. He was playing a D-chord, and it was supposed to be a G-chord. (It was!)
What's really funny is that we had an audience in the next room. And if our voices hadn't been elevated with passion and anger, it would have sounded like a perfectly logical discussion about music.
In no particular order, the following things were said: It stays on the four there. No, it goes back to the one. Listen to it. Ok, here I'll put it on the iPod. See? It's a G. No, it's a D. Play it again. No, I hear why you think that, and you're hearing that note, but it's not the root. It's the one. It's the one, but that's the alternate bass, it's the five of the four chord. The melody note doesn't go if you go back to the D that soon. You're singing the wrong melody. No I'm not. Yes you are. Well maybe I am, but it's still supposed to be the four chord, the G. I know what the four chord is. I'm not saying you don't know what the four is. Ok, I'll concede the chord, but you're singing the wrong melody. Ok, see we're both right.
Looks perfectly normal, but we were in a yelling and frustration match. Then we immediately laughed our asses off and said, "Dude! We just got into a fight! Our first fight!"
And the audience in the next room laughed uncomfortably with us. We were perfectly okay, and it was all over in about three minutes. Back to BFF's.
Then we walked down to the Wrench and played a killer show. I'm still laughing about our fight. (It was totally a G chord, by the way.)
Read more: http://blogs.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendId=19356498&blogId=470665947#ixzz0tgwZtNf2
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