"I can't stay much longer Melinda, the sun is getting high..."
... One eye open... you're doing just fine...
... try the other one...
*WHAM!*
... ooooo.... BRIGHT...
I wake up in the passenger seat of the Touring Vessel... head throbbing... to
a semi-cheerful blue sky... and by the looks of it, the day is fairly
advanced... I sit up way too fast and immediately feel like I'm gonna lose
it... what the Hell happened to me last night?
... oh yeah... I had a good time...
I never got my "wake-up knock" (see Louisville KY RRP for details on this
inane request), and I have two theories as to why...
1. That the desk attendant DID in fact come out to the parking lot to try and
wake me up and found it to be an impossible task over my snoring/ "sleeping it
off",
or
2. That asking the desk personnel to come out and wake me up was just as
stupid and above the call of duty as it later seemed to me and the other guys
in the band...
... whatever... I was terribly late getting up... that and it tasted like the
Third Battalion just walked through my mouth in their socks...
"... gotta get down to the mine..."
I stumbled into the lobby shielding my eyes from the glare and asked the
attendant which rooms were ours, trying not to breathe in her direction... she
warily told me she could not give out that information, her eyes darting over
the desktop for a letter opener or bottle of liquid paper, or upon further
review, just a nice shiny object to keep the fiend (said fiend being me) busy
or at bay until the authorities arrived...
... I was in no mood, and my bloodshot eyes must have conveyed this sentiment,
because she started to tell me I couldn't just roam the hotel, then thought
better of it and let me go...
The rooms were easy enough to find, as it was a gorgeous day, in the upper
50's at least with scattered clouds, so everyone was zipping from room to
room, the doors all open to the air...
I got a quick shower and then it was on to Carbondale and the Copper Dragon.
The ride there was short (by DSO standards) and we found the place after going
about two miles past it... the club itself is nestled in behind some other
stores and restaurants with a fairly easy load-in from the back parking lot...
When you walk into the place, it immediately reminds me of an old indoor
amusement park we had here called Old Chicago... there are false store fronts
and buildings surrounding the dance floor with a horseshoe shaped balcony
surrounding the floor about a story and a half up over the floor... the house
techs were busy setting up the monitors and I apologized for being late (yes,
again)... we were only about forty-five minutes late this time, however, so I
felt pretty good...
As Beau got the various piles of gear to their approximate stage positions I
inspected the house system... that's when I saw the room's namesake...
With a wingspan of easily twenty feet, there it was... The Copper Dragon...
complete with flashing eyes and menacing grin...
"Wouldn't want to be looking at THAT all night..." I thought... only to find
that when standing in the mix position, one had the medieval proctologist's
dream view of the beast... lovely...
... but, come to think of it, this wouldn't be my first mix staring at a metal
asshole all night... I've worked at the Thirsty Whale...(Ed Note: This was
a venue on the southwest side, I believe, later called "Haymakers". They had
a huge whale hanging in the rafters if I remember correctly. I have a photo of
my band playing there back in '82.)
"Some other feller's makin' nothin' at all... and you can hear him cry..."
Mixing from the balcony can be a hassle, because invariably the PA is not
flown with this area in mind but rather for the floor... and the Copper Dragon
is no exception. The boys got settled in on the stage, and the only way Scott
could get to his keys was to climb a precarious stack of milk crates and swing
over to his rig around the Leslie speaker... the stage being about five feet
tall at least... and we eventually got a sound check in to my and the band's
satisfaction (as usual, more theirs than mine), allowing the doors to open
about twenty minutes late...
It was at this point I met Harlan...
I was running out to the store for some sundries and Harlan offered to show me
where to go, as he had managed to scrape together enough change for a pack of
smokes... on the way there he introduced himself as one of the brewers for the
Dragon and asked if anyone in the band liked Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (which
happens to be smiled upon by several of us, ESPECIALLY Scott)... he said he
had a "clone" that might just out-pale the Pale Ale and that he would be most
appreciative to know our mind on the subject...
... what a country!
So after some absolutely horrid Chinese food we bellied up to the bar and let
Harlan be our guide through his wondrous achievements... we sampled every
beer, bitter, ale, and porter he had on tap, giving each one a thumb's up,
especially the pale, which after Drumz I fell into with wild, voracious
abandon and had NO hangover from the next day...
... Harlan immediately became the subject of fevered discussion...
"Hell YES we need a brewmaster on the road, Scott... capitol idea,
sir!Absolutely SMASHING thought..."
One trailer for our gear, one for his... we could swing this...
After our tour of HarlanWorld, we kicked back in the band room watching the
Cartoon Network... Tex Avery is good for the soul, folks... and eventually it
was showtime...
"Make good money - five dollars a day..."
Tonight was the second of my finds from the Deadbase, 3/30/86 from Providence,
RI... and after I got my sound straight, the band set it on fire... and the
place was packed up with about 700 fans of the music, soon to be fans of
ours...
I don't like it when the band opens with "Bucket" for reasons I've stated
before, but for those of you new to this column, I don't like it because it's
balls-to-the-wall from the get-go... screaming guitars and pounding drums and
a real mess if I don't have the room just right... but the crowd liked it this
time even though Mike's vocals were not quite there (my fault entirely)... at
least to MY standards... "Sugaree" gave me the break in the action I needed to
get down to the floor and find out what was going on "where it counts"... the
crowd REALLY reacting to John's vocal similarity to Jerry... then it was back
to Hellish work on Mike for "El Paso"... I just could NOT get his voice to
rise out of the band for some reason so again, the song suffered but nobody
paid it any heed... seeing as how I had Scott and John's vocals in the pocket
I guess the crowd was cutting me some needed slack... thank each and every one
of you, by the way...
Speaking of Scott, he tore up "Tons of Steel" vocally but I remember it being
a bit shaky... Maraat saving me with "C. C. Rider", which allowed me to work
on his voice a bit better... less to contend with instrumentally, y'see...
after "Dupree's" Mike Hazdra let fly with a "Tom Thumb Blues", complete with
requisite line change to "... goin' back to Carbondale, I do believe I've had
enough..." and John returned with "Deal" to round out the first set.
During the set break I talked with Harlan, who was having a great time, then
we went backstage to hang for a breather... the place was packed pretty good
with people, and I noticed that this huge crowd was also particularly lit (aka
DRUNK) and it was only about 10:30p...
"Oh... that's because we have $1 Porters tonight..."
"You WHAT?"
The place was running a special, and the crowd was taking FULL advantage, it
seemed... Porter, dollar per pint... lordy...
All through the set break we had people stumbling into the dressing room
"lookin' fer the can, man..." or so looped that they were looking for the
band... John even got grabbed and dragged by some guy to meet his girlfriend
when he made an excursion out into the general populace, and he was somewhat
visibly shaken by the assault... John, like Jerry, is sort of confused by some
fans' approach and/or reaction to what he does...
... hey, I know he's that good, YOU know he's that good, but (and I must say
"Thankfully"), John really doesn't...
... I'd like to keep it that way, so enough with the adoration... if you see
him, ignore him...
Anyway, the second set started with "Touch of Grey" (during which a drunk
piled into a table next to the mix position and his buddies had to hold him
upright for the rest of the show)... and kept the toes moving with "Samson"
before the band got into an outstanding "Terrapin Station", complete with the
lighting designer showing computer-animated fly-bys of islands and other
imagery on the screen over the stage, the robotic lighting strafing the
crowd and stage... the addition of the video screen over the stage (which
showed up-close views of singers or instruments with fractals and other cool
"Trippy" stuff) was a very nice "extra"...
After "Women R Smarter" the drummers took over for a time, and out of "Space"
came the unfamiliar strains of "Why Don't We Do It In The Road?"... a rarity
for the Dead, so a rarity for us, Scott whacking out his vocal to a frenzy and
the rest of the band following suit like a mass prostate exam... John turned
in an emotional "Stella Blue" and "Throwin'>NFA" took it home, however the
band petered out on the "NFA" a bit too soon so the audience didn't carry it
over (as was in the original) and the band had to re-spark "NFA" for the
encore which leads into "Mighty Quinn"...
"Loose Lucy" sent everyone packing with a smile and we only had to deal with a
few Porter casualties during load-out... all in all a pretty good evening...
... until...
...Sprout locked her keys in her car... RUNNING CAR... again... this was like,
the third time in two weeks, and she took a cartload of guff for it... we were
brutal... we were drinking... we were...
... we were...
... we were underestimating Sprout's capacity to give as good as she got, is
what we were doing...
After boozing with Harlan we piled into our vehicles ("Hey SPROUT! Look! The
door's workin' JUST FINE on the Touring Vessel... Hey SPROUT! Don't lock
Maraat in the car with the keys in the ignition, he'll never get OUT!") and
headed for our hotel...
Back at the rooms we had a few more beers and crashed around dawn, making just
one last call to Sprout's room...
"Are you watching HBO? 'Cause 'Ghostbusters' is on... and Rick Moranis plays
the KEYMASTER, yknow?... AwwwHaaaawwwwHaaawww!!!"
She got the last laugh, and hat's off to her for her style...
... she called the desk and changed our wake-up call to "6a and another one
please at 6:30a"...
And of course the dumbass went with it...
*Brrrrrrrriiiiinnnnggggg!!!*
*Brrrrrrrriiiiinnnnggggg!!!*
*Brrrrrrrriiiiinnnnggggg!!!*
... ah, that must be the wake-up knock I ordered...
Beware, Sprout... We Know What Room You're In... Always...
COMING SOON: The Irate Desk Clerk - A Constant It Seems, It's 10a... When's
The Hotel Bar Open? Fear And Room Service, Scott's Dip, The Legendary Cabooze,
I'm Mixing From WHERE? Scott's Long Lost Brother, and "We're NOT The Big Wu,
Dammit!"
See You Around The Playground!