And it was all blue.
So anyways, a friend of mine, Steve, played drums with me tonight. He, like me, are both victims of "Side Project Syndrome", where anytime you're part of band, it's always every other member's OTHER band. So while you want to rock, they're going to bail because their altertaive-indie-emo outfit has a gig at this place in the city AND RECORD PRODUCER MIGHT SHOW UP if he feels like it cause his kids has a big little league game. I think the Peter Pan Games Tigers can beat the Whitestone Laundromat Yankees this year!
Anyway, here's the breakdown-
SONG OF THE CENTURY- **
My voice sucks, no studio monitor, I went "Fuck it" halfway through. NEXT!
BRAIN STEW- ***
It went good for a while, but then I forgot the words to the third verse. D'oh! Still we meshed OK considering our limited practice schedule.
STEVEN WELLS (HE WAS THE GREATEST)- ***
That one practice session was maybe 1 hour long. Remember kids, by yourself or in a band, FUCKING PRACTICE. At least I got another guy turned on to Akira The Don. The main problem with that practice session is that you're not sure when to end. Steve can keep a beat and bang out a fill, no doubt. But trying to mouth to him "OK, one more go around," was impossible with all the noise.
At this point we lost the crowd with our obscure songs, and what didn't help matters was that he wanted to learn this song ON THE WAY THERE.
Case in point, practice makes perfect, kids! Or at least mediocre.