Thursday, March 24, 2011

Sessions From the Hut - Aftermath

We started our jam session promptly at 7pm Friday evening, and continued through until 5am Saturday morning. I gave up around 3:30 am. I copied the music files onto a thumb drive, and we reviewed excerpts Saturday evening. Sunday evening, I got a phone call from my older (eldest) brother Eric.

John: "So, we had our first jam session Friday."
Eric: " The Motherfucking Cocksuckers??!!" Eric's enthusiasm is genuine, although hard to tell whether he likes saying the name, or he was vicariously interested in the session.
J: "Yes. I reviewed the tapes Saturday afternoon, and they were just... horrible!"
E: (laughs)  "You guys are really that bad?"
J: "Oh, it's not that we lack talent. We have an abundance of that. We just lack skills."
E: "You guys need to practice."
J: "Craig (my brother Chris's best friend, owner of the garage/studio) and I listened to the tapes Saturday evening, and after about a half hour, he said 'Oh my god, we are just... horrible!'"
E: (laughs)
J: "It is painful to listen to me playing the keys. Embarrassing. Like, watching the Hippie Episode from Star Trek embarrassing".
E: "Practice."
J: "So... do you know that your baby brother Christopher is a Nazi?" (Chris plays bass, and has played in rock bands for more than thirty years).
E: "!"
J: "Oh, yeah. You can hear him dictating the terms of surrender about every five minutes. After awhile, I gave him the nickname of Alphabet Nazi".
E: "Why?"
J: "At one point, we swap positions. Dean, the guitarist, takes the drums. Craig, the drummer, takes the keys. I grab the guitar. As we are playing, you can hear Chris barking out the chords he wants us to play. Uh, excuse me? I can work out what fret/string is what note after about ten seconds. I doubt that Craig understands the difference black keys and white. But there's Chris shouting letters at us. A! D! F! C!"
E: "The Alphabet Nazi!"
J: "He keeps this up, he'll be a Republican soon".
E: "Don't say that!"
J: "I thought you were a Republican?"
E: "Not recently. Shaved Apes on PCP. That's what they've turned into. And those fucking Tea Party assholes..."
E: "I remember attending a seminar on birth order and leadership. Basically, the eldest and youngest are nazis. Tyrants. Kind of leaders you want if no one is expected to come back alive."
J: "That's about right. I just wanted to jam and have fun."
E:  "Yeah, well, you drive nazis crazy. Second-born children are risk-takers, open to new experience and experimentalism. Rebels."
J: "Oh, you mean I ignored his every command? You got that right."
J: "You know.. the funny thing is it all sounded pretty damn good while we were performing".
E: Why do you suppose that is?"
J: "Well, ti is a lot like an acid trip once you put those headphones on. You are in your own little world of your creation. I figure it's like 'rapture of the deep'. You know, the euphoria deep sea divers experience when you go down too deep or for too long".
E: "Nitrogen narcosis".
J: "Yeah, except in our case, it's sound."

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