Of all the unsuccessful shows we have played in Greater Detroit, and there have been many, I believe the least successful gig of all time was at a bar in Pontiac MI whose name escapes me. This was a Cowslingers show in probably 1994-95 because I remember our old bass player Tony was there. These were truly the Early Days Of Bitter Struggle where I hadn't learned what gigs to take and what to avoid. At this point, if someone from out of town agreed to take us, we'd play it. We just wanted to gig. Any show would be a crazy adventure and a chance to play our stupid songs.
I am fairly sure I heard about this club from the Flyin' Saucers or maybe Pistol Pete had Twistin Tarantulas going by then. The logic went that because those guys had a good show at this club, we would too as we played music of a similar sensibility. This ignored the obvious key factor of that they were local and we hardly knew anyone in Detroit, much less the Detroit suburb of Pontiac. I think we were being willfully ignorant thinking that the Detroit rockabilly clique, centered around those two bands, would drive out to Pontiac to see us. Frankly, we weren't very good in 1994-95, and I wouldn't have driven out to see us either.
I had the suspicion then, which has since been confirmed dozens of times over, that the rockabilly scene is not a music scene. The rockabilly scene is mainly centered on antique collecting, old cars and vintage clothes with the music providing the backdrop. For example, if we had rolled into that club with two tables of vintage auto patches and just unearthed L and XL bowling shirts from 1958, we would have put 300 people in that room. There would have been a line out the door if we made a poster that said "Estate Sale From Just Opened Clothes Trunk from 1959". Instead we had sent hand drawn fliers promoting us. Big mistake.
The good news was we had a local band that we were opening up for. This was when I learned the other painful lesson that most club owners and booking agents cannot be trusted to pair up bands. I cannot tell you how many times we had played gigs where the booking person decided "Since the girl fronted pop band brings in one crowd and the stinky cowboy boot guys bring in another, we can double the size of a normal show by pairing them up!". While it would appear that you have appealed to everyone, in fact, you have appealed to no one as the creepy male fans and empowerment seeking women that want to stare at the young woman pop singer DO NOT want to watch drunk cowboys jump around before or after the set they came to see. Likewise, the heavy drinking dudes that come to see the stinky cowboy boot guys DO NOT want to stand around while some limp version of Top 40 radio gets played out in front of them. Therefore NO ONE comes. It was, and is, a recipe for disaster.
In this case, we had been booked with a band that had no possible relationship to the stuff we were doing. They sound checked before us, and it took them longer than I would imagine it takes The Moody Blues. The sound check didn't take so long because they were perfectionists. It was more because each member of the band had some sort of different vision as to what the band was going for, and it was impossible for the sound guy to lock in on anything. Imagine if a Stewart Copeland wannabe drummer was with the guitar player from REO Speedwagon while a young girl keyboard player from A-ha played songs fronted by a glam lead singer that thought he was in a West Village version of Joy Division. Sometimes disparate musical influences can create something edgy and exciting. In this case, it was forgettable songs being executed poorly by four people all doing their own thing simultaneously. It was a horrible lack of vision, yet being executed so poorly that a casual onlooker might just focus on how bad it was being done. It was a high school rock-off version of free jazz.
When it was time for us to play, there were about 5 people in the club that weren't band members. They were a table that looked uncomfortable, as if they didn't normally do "this sort of thing". They had the look of people that worked with the girl keyboardist and weren't hip enough to know that if the gig was listed for 9p, they'd have to endure us for 45 minutes and wait for tear down until they could politely sit through their friend's terrible show. We got up there, played to no reaction whatsoever, and meekly ended. When I was tearing down I saw the guy in the next band backstage applying face paint and putting on a cape. I knew what was about to happen on that stage was going to be worse than I had anticipated.
There are different measures of time. An hour of a great film passes in the blink of an eye. An hour with the band we opened for playing at top volume was like a life insurance seminar blasted though Ozzy Osbourne's sound system in a way that made time elongate. It was like the last five minutes of the last day of school in 5th grade, but with a guy in a cape and white face paint singing the worst songs you had ever heard. It would never end. We sat at this little bar in the back, drinking well past our comp beer limit, effectively losing money on the show by drinking ourselves into debt. Our gear tucked behind the stage, we were trapped in Pontiac MI with no escape. Whenever I think something looks grim, or it can't get worse, I think of sitting in the back of that room in Pontiac MI.
This feeling of being trapped into something that might never end is how the Chicago Bears must feel this season. They embarked on the year as an obvious "lost season" where the main goal was to determine if Justin Fields was a QB to build around and then getting their salary cap in order. Fields, when allowed to run around and use his freak athleticism, looks like an intriguing player. Of course, he also separated his shoulder last week. This means the Bears, with the worst offensive line ever, are going to try to win on Sunday running a version of their "QB runs around until something good happens" offense with backup Trevor Siemian, who is a statue. I can't see the Bears scoring. The bad news is that means we have to take the Jets.
The Jets are 6-4, but are somehow in turmoil. That's because they are the Jets. It's also because their "franchise QB" Zack Wilson is a bust and the guys on the team hate him. Normally when a QB gets hit, the linemen all jump over to help him up. Not Wilson. They let that dude get up on his own. After Wilson had one of the worst QB performances in his already awful career, a reporter asked if he felt he had let down the defense in the 10-3 loss. "No". Yeah, that didn't play well in the old locker room. Wilson is out, and Mike White is in. I'll say this. I consider ANYONE an upgrade over Wilson. I'd bet the Jets over the Bears this week anyway, but with Zack Wilson off the field I do so with great enthusiasm. Jets money line.
I'm buying low on the Cleveland Browns and selling high on the Bucs. The Browns face the Bucs, a team with two very public wins recently. It is well known that it is easy to run on the Browns. Cleveland spent no resources on interior D-line or linebackers, so as a result running backs scamper right up the gut for 6 yards whenever they want. The good news for Cleveland is Fournette is out for the Bucs. He would have killed them. Instead, they will slog through a rainy NE OH day trading handoffs with the Browns with whoever is left on the worst rushing team in the league. This is a game where the Browns are just going to hang around in a boring low scoring game. I also like the motivation on the team for Brissett's last start. Cleveland +3.5
Seattle needs a win to keep pace in the NFC West. The Raiders are done. Who do you like in this coaching matchup, motivated Seattle with Pete Carroll or disinterested Vegas with Josh McDaniels? There are all kinds of stats about how good Seattle has been with Carroll after a loss, how bad Carr is on the road, and how bad McDaniels is period. I don't have to give you the numbers, do I? We all know how this one is going to go. Seattle -3.5.
Season record: 18-13-1
On fire.
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