Last night, without Dave, who is vacationing down in SoCal, us other three birdmonsters gathered in our studio for one of those oh so enjoyable, meandering, long-winded, messy practices which often result in interesting song ideas. Or even songs. Hell, Resurrection Song and Ball of Yarn were written that way. And everything was going nicely, I must say, until...well...until my bass amp exploded.
Alright, "exploded" is certainly an exagerration. It wasn't as if Sly Stallone should've been diving away from it as it engulfed the room in fireballs. But there was that distinctive and depressing noise of a speaker tearing. If you've never heard it before, it sounds like a cat dying, only amplified. Either that or a large, eggshaped flatulent man, amplified. Actually, it's a rather even mix of the two.
Which brings us to an impasse: we have a show in San Diego in two days (see last post) and I'm ampless. I'm thinking about just setting up a microphone and beat-boxing my bass parts. The chords will be tricky of course, but I can get Dave to harmonize with me. Either that or I'm going to find one today. Plans are in the works, and hopefully, our old friends Dark Side of the Cop will come through in the clutch. I have a good feeling about it. We can always car-jack Division Day in LA. I'll bring my ski-mask.
Beyond that, a few folks clued me into Gorilla Vs. Bear today. Why? you might ask. Well, he played us on some radio shindig (which, by the by, thanks) and also, videos with elephants. And who doesn't like Elephants? Really. Too bad he's rooting for the Pistons. Chris: you're blowing it there. They're tired and they're cocky and they're losing tomorrow night. I'll wager...my bass amp. You'll wager your car.
It's a deal.
Ok. I'm really enjoying this book I'm reading so I need to scheme a break from work now. In other news, I am insanely dedicated to my job.