"I INHERITED THE SNAKE," PART 3 (OF 3)
The monitors were taking up precious floor space -- this nightclub has a wide, but not deep, stage -- though I was hearing precious little coming OUT of them. Actually, I couldn't hear a damned thing.
Therefore, Karch and The Kid couldn't hear Brinie and Me, and vice-versa. I couldn't hear my vocals except for the wispy bit I caught coming back at me from the room. And the only way I could hear THAT was by what we call "eating the mike" -- that is, singing with your mouth practically ON the microphone. It's a bad situation for a singer. You're actually kind of shouting, just to hear yourself. You're not crooning. You're not massaging the vowels. You're in danger of going off-key more often than you normally would. The audience doesn't know this, because the room swallows up a lot of imperfections. But God help you if you're listening to a board mix the next day.
Halfway into Set One came my "Wa-a-ay down inside" vocal solo in "Whole Lotta Love." I was looking forward to that "delay" sound effect I told you about earlier. No such luck. My vocal was as dry as Im-Ho-Tep.
Two thirds into Set One, we had a guest singer on the Ozzy Osbourne song "Crazy Train" -- "Tom Terrific" from the band Snafu -- so I had the opportunity to go into the crowd and listen to the mix. The Kid was all over his guitar neck, playing all of this great Randy Rhoads stuff, but you'd never know it. I hoped he would at least be turned up for the solo. No such luck. His solo was quieter than two high-school kids necking in the family room.
OK, I'm done raggin'. Now for the fun stuff . . .
TO BE CONTINUED