[drumming diary] Stray Cat Strut

After some reflection, I'm still not sure if Saturday's Nitrous Foxide show was, in fact, the worst conditions I've ever played under, and I'm not just talking about the hangover from the night before.

We were tabbed to play at this big outdoor party/benefit at a bar in West Lakeview. The pay was actually pretty good. This particular establishment has a sand volleyball court out back, and we were told that they had some sort of planks to convert part of the court to a makeshift stage. Turns out they were old closet doors from the owner's old condo, along with a piece of plywood with a carpet stapled to it.

The materials weren't the issue. Heck, even the size wasn't an issue, even though it made for a somewhat condensed drumkit and vocalists actually standing on the sand. The issue was that said materials had been sitting in the alley next to the bar, ostensibly since last year's event. And, apparently, this alley serves the local stray animal community as a bathroom. The doors, and particularly the carpet, reeked of cat pee.

Still, we're professionals, and the show must go on. So after I got the drums up, I headed over to the local drug store and got me a few scented candles (which didn't help much) and a can of air freshener (which did). The spray can became a bit of a running gag, as I'd take advantage of certain breaks, like the wait before the drum solo in Led Zeppelin's "Rock and Roll," to clear the air.

The dynamic of the event wasn't quite as it had been planned, either, so instead of the original Foxide-Acoutic!Coz-Foxide plan, I played a set up front, and also threw in another song while Kev changed a string. Then, since there was a sizable late-arriving crowd, they asked us to play a third full set. Except that we had already played most of what we knew. We decided on another handful of acoustic songs, followed by a reprise of some songs from the first set that went well. So, for me, it was something like four and a half sets of music surrounded by the fragrant bouquet of urine. Of course, the last set was after the sun went down, so the smell of the stage wasn't so strong, allowing the nearby dumpster to establish it's own unique aroma.

Being a professional musican is fun. Really. It just depends on your definition of "fun."