SOUND CHECK
THE FIRST OF THREE WEB COLUMNS ABOUT THE BURNERS' JULY 15 SHOW:
Brinie, Nephew and I arrived at Moby Dick Seafood Saloon in Lindenwold a little after noon to set up for The Burners' show that night, later joined by the Maestro. After hanging the lights and The Burners' banner, the stage began looking like a stage, and excitement started creeping in.
Drummer Johnny materialized with his daughter, who just finished her sophomore year in high school (making her about the same age as her father and I when we formed our first band). She was funny, with that teen 'tude that can make mincemeat out of middle-aged fogies. "I'm your Uncle Mark," I said to her.
We Burners TRIED to keep our language on the gentlemanly side in her presence. "Has anyone seen that silly extension cord?" my brother asked at one point, as opposed to: "Has anyone seen that (expletive) extension cord?"
Once Brinie began to slip up regularly, I tried to reel him in by saying, "Oh, so it's the Wild West now? All bets are off?" But, hey, this was The Burners' set-up, and before long, the expletives flowed like icy beer.
Three hours later, we were BUMMING.
The sound company was two and a half hours late, and didn't initially answer their cell phone. What if they didn't show up? Would we have to use the P.A. system that Johnny's dad spray-painted for us back in 1976? And the air-conditioning in the ballroom was uncooperative, to the point that a repairman was summoned. (We were expecting 150 more bodies in the ballroom by that stifling evening.)
At 4:30, the sound company finally began lugging their equipment in. By 6, they'd set up and tested most of the instruments. We were ready for a proper sound check. Everyone took their place on the stage. We were just about to play a song, when ...
Suddenly, darkness fell.
The power went out! Oh my God, we killed the power with our light show, our sound equipment and the air-conditioning!
Well, no, we didn't. We learned that much of Lindenwold was out due to a blown transformer. This was music to our ears. There was no telling how long it would take to fix, but things would certainly be OK in time for The Burners' 9:45 p.m. kickoff. There was no sense sitting around. We decided to go home, shower and throw on our stage clothes. Our first song would be our sound check. It wouldn't be the first time.
NEXT POST: WAR PAINT
Brinie, Nephew and I arrived at Moby Dick Seafood Saloon in Lindenwold a little after noon to set up for The Burners' show that night, later joined by the Maestro. After hanging the lights and The Burners' banner, the stage began looking like a stage, and excitement started creeping in.
Drummer Johnny materialized with his daughter, who just finished her sophomore year in high school (making her about the same age as her father and I when we formed our first band). She was funny, with that teen 'tude that can make mincemeat out of middle-aged fogies. "I'm your Uncle Mark," I said to her.
We Burners TRIED to keep our language on the gentlemanly side in her presence. "Has anyone seen that silly extension cord?" my brother asked at one point, as opposed to: "Has anyone seen that (expletive) extension cord?"
Once Brinie began to slip up regularly, I tried to reel him in by saying, "Oh, so it's the Wild West now? All bets are off?" But, hey, this was The Burners' set-up, and before long, the expletives flowed like icy beer.
Three hours later, we were BUMMING.
The sound company was two and a half hours late, and didn't initially answer their cell phone. What if they didn't show up? Would we have to use the P.A. system that Johnny's dad spray-painted for us back in 1976? And the air-conditioning in the ballroom was uncooperative, to the point that a repairman was summoned. (We were expecting 150 more bodies in the ballroom by that stifling evening.)
At 4:30, the sound company finally began lugging their equipment in. By 6, they'd set up and tested most of the instruments. We were ready for a proper sound check. Everyone took their place on the stage. We were just about to play a song, when ...
Suddenly, darkness fell.
The power went out! Oh my God, we killed the power with our light show, our sound equipment and the air-conditioning!
Well, no, we didn't. We learned that much of Lindenwold was out due to a blown transformer. This was music to our ears. There was no telling how long it would take to fix, but things would certainly be OK in time for The Burners' 9:45 p.m. kickoff. There was no sense sitting around. We decided to go home, shower and throw on our stage clothes. Our first song would be our sound check. It wouldn't be the first time.
NEXT POST: WAR PAINT
posted by Mark Voger at 8:25 PM
3 Comments:
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Keep up the good work. thnx!
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Very best site. Keep working. Will return in the near future.
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