( 7:32 PM )
Have A Drink On Me (Nancy Patterson R.I.P.)
Sometimes it’s just fate when someone special comes into your life. Orcutt and I used to hang at a bar on Ave. A, and somewhere along the way, the bar changed ownership and was no longer our East Village bar of choice. And right about the same time, I noticed a new Irish bar was opening on my street. So Orcutt and I started hanging out there and immediately got to know and love bartender Nancy. Nancy was vibrant, politically astute, she always played good music (generally on the old school r&b tip), and most importantly, she made damn good drinks. Orcutt and I were just beginning our martini phase and Nancy made the perfect dry gin tini with a twist. She also helped nurture our single malt scotch habit, and we’re forever grateful. So we found a new home.
And we probably spent a couple of years being regulars there. “Wanna grab a drink?” “Sure.” “See ya 10.” No need to say where, because Nancy (and Brendan & Kenny & Melissa & Joe & John, et. al.) are gonna be at 11th Street and that meant good music, good service, good conversation and more than our share of drinks on the house. Time moves on and things changed and we became less regular at 11th Street. But it was always great to see Nancy.
Nancy put me on her email list and would let me know when extra Yankee tix were floating around or would show her pics of her adventure at the Mermaid Parade or when her man Brian Mitchell was gigging. In fact, one of my favorite Nancy moments happened during this period when I was briefly working for the Census and was going door to door to do a head count. On 9th Street, I knocked on a door and there was bartender Nancy, smiling and inviting me in to watch the Knicks and to have a drink. How could I refuse? Of course, my favorite Nancy moment was hanging at 11th Street during the blackout (August 17, 2003).
So it was with great sadness that I went to a memorial service tonight in her honor. It was weird seeing all these people I’ve seen come in and out of the bar over the course of 8 years (or so). And I guess it was just apropos that drinks were on the house tonight. But it’s a sad, sad bummer and I miss her already. You left a lot of love here Nancy and hopefully we’ll find a tap to send it back to you in heaven.
Whiskey, gin and brandy
With a glass I'm pretty handy
I'm trying to walk a straight line
On sour mash and cheap wine
So join me for a drink boys
We're gonna make a big noise
So don't worry about tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
We'll get hell to pay
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Yeah
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
On me
--AC/DC
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3 comments
( 3:37 PM )
New York, New York
So last night was one of those cool New York City nights. Nothing over the top, but just the kind of night that could only happen in a major town like NYC.
The good part of the day started off when a co-worker (Ellen) and I were walking through Times Square and I pulled her aside and told her how much I hated Times Square. Way too much flash and far too many tourists for a neighborhood that doesn't really have anything more than a bunch of lights and live TV studios. But right as the words came out, I kind of realized it's cool how iconic Times Square is. Saturday Night Live. Every hip-hop video of the last decade. The end of WWII kiss. The porn shops! Just about everyone has an image of TS in their heads and I grudingly admitted it was kind of "neato" to live a mile or so away from it.
Ellen and I were heading toward Sardi's and across the street it was opening night for Spamalot - "a new musical 'lovingly' ripped off from the motion picture Monty Python and the Holy Grail. There were hundreds of people lined up to see the stars David Hyde Pierce, Tim Curry and Hank Azaria make their entrance, as well as a knight fighting a fire-breathing dragon. And the billboard for the show claims to feature "knights, maidens, killer rabbits and witches (well, no witches, they're too expensive)." Anyway, I enjoy a lot of commotion and there it was for me to trudge through.
Then we got to Sardi's for a little media gathering Ellen put together. Sardi's is another iconic Broadway hangout for the acting/production types and Ellen is a regular. We were hanging at the upstairs bar, drinking martinis for a couple of hours when someone told us Marisa Tomei was drinking at the downstairs bar. About 2 weeks ago, our magazine put together a wish-list of celebrities that we would like to use in a promotional ad campaign, and Ms. Tomei was on the list.
So Ellen and I looked at each other, grabbed a copy of our latest issue, walked downstairs and up to Maris and introduced ourselves. Ellen gave her the spiel while I drunkenly flipped through the mag to show her the Larry David promo ad. I had a little trouble finding it, partly because I was starstruck, she's beautiful and maybe a little bit from the gin (and unfortunately vodka) martinis. Marisa looked great! She was dressed in white pants, a beige vest, had her hair pulled back and was very friendly and lively. She looks just like she did in My Cousin Vinny, only a couple of years older. Ellen always has my back and suggested that I give her one of my business cards and Marisa said she would think about doing the ad for us.
So now my 6 degrees of separation from Tomei is down to one degree (a former co-worker's wife is Marisa's first cousin). Now our fates are just a phone call/email away. C'mon honey - make the move and prove that anything can and will happen in New York City.
New york, new york
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I’m a number one top of the list, king of the hill
A number one
--Frank Sinatra
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3 comments
( 10:57 PM )
End of the Line
There’s a new Heineken TV ad where a guitar player auditions for a band and seems to get the gig. They start talking about beer and the guitar player says he doesn’t drink Heineken. The next shot is of him and his girlfriend walking out of the rehearsal spot with her asking him, “what’s creative differences?”
Sometimes it’s the little things that breaks a band up and with Spitball it seems that our fork in road was the differing opinions we had about the mix of our last recording. Now the average listener probably wouldn’t be able to discern the difference at all. But to the three Spitballers – it was night and day, life and death.
Nothing really exciting or dramatic broke us up – just a big difference of opinion and apparently no room to work out a compromise. Which is sad because I thought and think that Spitball had a little magic when the 3 of us made music together. Chris Orcutt is an amazing drummer. I’ve always had the hardest time trying to describe what’s unique about him, but his musicality is key to his playing and he plays as if he’s pushing the beat forward. He doesn’t play ahead of the beat or at a fast tempo. He just has a propulsive blast that makes you feel as if the wind is at your back when your feet are planted, but you’re leaning forward at a 45 degree angle. And his snare sound is so piercing that a the beginning of every practice, the pressure in my ears would literally suck in to keep the half snare/half tight drum head sound out. You owe my ears an apology Mr. Orcutt.
And Molly Mullholland/Yvan Fitch is a spectacular guitar player. She’s got the ability to make the guitar sound exciting, finding catchy hooks and playing a hot, dead on rhythm guitar. She also makes her feedback sing – not in an overdone and annoying Sonic Youth way, but at the right spot it shrieks and hums in time and in the right key. In the past I thought she would be an excellent producer because she hears sounds like no one else I know. But now I think she would drive a band crazy because she couldn’t communicate the sounds she hears in her head to the band. However the key to her talent is that she writes great guitar lines. Not in an AC/DC-Angus-Malcolm Young choppy guitar way, but in a squirrelly, herky-jerky, drill it into your head way. Real, pure, honest to goodness talent. There’s a million guitar players and songwriters. There are only a few talented ones.
Me – well, I’m just the bass player, and most likely a frustrated guitar player kind of bass player at that. I started out playing guitar, but in college, I switched to bass because 3 of my housemates played guitar and I wasn’t the best or the worst one, so I was the obvious choice for bass. But in Spitball, I found a partner in drummer Chris that I never had before. Maybe the bond of our friendship made it so easy, but it always felt like I knew when he was going to zig, so when we hit the zig curve, I’d be right there with him. And I could always hear a dozen different bass lines to play in Spitball songs, so the challenge was to choose the correct one. I’ve never been an objective listener, so I don’t know if I play too much (too many notes) or what. But at some point in mach 3 or 4 of Spitball, I came to love playing the 4 string electric bass and prided myself on doing it well.
But over the weekend, Spitball became awash in annoying emails, fundamental disagreements, wild accusations and hurt feelings. So once again, it’s time to hang up my black Fender Jazz and find something else to do with my new-found free time. Which is ok. I realize now that the 3 of us had 3 different motivations for playing. Me – I love playing live and would’ve been happy playing a gig every other month and rehearsing every other week. I love my job and I’m 40-years-old and I don’t desire to travel the country in a van or SUV, playing gigs night after night, and hoping to find a nice, comfy place to sleep each night. Chris lives to play more than any other human I know. Not making music is to not be functioning as the human being that is Chris Orcutt, so we’ll have to find something other than drinking to do with our new found free time. And Molly is talented and driven. She says that all she wants to do is make a record, but I’m not so sure. To be a good lead singer you have to believe you deserve to be up on stage in the spotlight, turning people on with your music. I think Molly has that, so I don’t believe she would be satisfied with a recorded document of a dozen Spitball songs. In Spitball mach 1, she/Yvan told me we would be bigger than the Beatles. I’m sure that was just hyperbole, but I also know that deep inside she hoped it was true. I don’t know how she really feels now, but I know she’s not happy that Chris and I aren’t 100% with her.
Which is sad because you want any break up to be amicable, but judging by the wild and inaccurate accusations made in emails the past two days, it probably won’t be.
Lucky for you dear reader, you still have a chance to see one of New York City’s great unknown bands. Spitball’s last gig will be Thursday, March 24 at Sine’ at 9pm (or so). Come out, come out - drink a toast to the end and new beginning - rock out and have a ball – a Spitball that is!
Well it's all right, even if you're old and grey
Well it's all right, you still got something to say
Well it's all right, remember to live and let live
Well it's all right, the best you can do is forgive
(Chorus 5)
Well it's all right, riding around in the breeze
Well it's all right, if you live the life you please
Well it's all right, even if the sun don't shine
Well it's all right, we're going to the end of the line
--Travelling Wilburys
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3 comments
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