I’m getting too old for this sh..

So, I find myself in a hilarious situation. Bear with me as I ramble…

A long, long time ago I was a working musician. By working I mean I did manage to work in bands that made money. Not real money, mind you. But when you are twenty something, a hundred bucks cash in your wallet at the end of a weekend is an amazing intoxicating head trip.

My bands were too loud and played too fast to too few people. Too bad. I loved it.

I am a drummer and when I was younger, I loved beating the hell out of my kit. Rebelling against all oppression that I neither felt nor had in my life. But alternative music bands are supposed to be “hurting, artistic and smarter than everyone”. Right? I played along anyway.

My bands through my 30s were mostly cover bands because at the time no one wanted to hear your original songs. And most importantly, no pub owner was gonna pay you to play songs that no one has ever heard. Made sense to me, business-wise. And I didn’t really care.

I had been in original bands where the deafening silence following the last note of one of my masterpieces was a real kick in the metaphorical nuts. I like to say those gigs were humbling and character building. You might say that gigs like that are torturous and soul swallowers. Potato \ Potato…

My first band is still, by far, my favorite. I was in high school and decided to form a band. My best friend Eric and I recruited a guitar player, bass player and a keyboard virtuoso. We became a solid little unit through our college years. Writing songs, winning band competitions and the like… One day, as all bands do, we decided we were done. Our five year mission had lasted seven and that was that.

I moved to Florida, got a real job, got married and had a kid. Eric worked his way through daytime television and recently won a daytime Emmy for best supporting actor. The rest of the troop stayed in the area, got real jobs and got married. Life as we know it.

I kept in touch with three of the four former band mates. For the last ten years three of us would get together and quickly write songs and record them in the basement. For strictly our own amusement. And some of the recordings are hilarious.

Then, last year, something odd happened. My former band mates / current constant friends Jim and Ron would write some songs with me that I actually really like. Really really like. We decided to invest in proper recording equipment and casually produce and record these new songs. And they sound pretty darn good IMHO.

At my current big boy job, my friend / coworker Paul has offered to sing on the new songs. He’s an overgrown goofball of a man with an amazing voice built for soul music. He fits in perfectly with our Foo Fighters / Stone Temple Pilots sound. Ok, not really but I’m afraid Eric has outgrown us a tad. He does fit in with us every other way. Forty something, balding, spare tire sporting goof balls who can still kinda play their instruments.

We have decided to record and post music online for public consumption. IF we can make a few bucks while having a good time with our hobby. Why not?!?

We know we are not going to be famous. We know we are not going to play out or tour. We know the chicks won’t be falling all over us (?). We know we are not kids rebelling against anything or anyone.

We are adults with a hobby. We are mature. We are dignified. We are family men with careers. We are who we are. The boyhood dreams in fantasy rock and roll world have long since dissipated. We are men.

Now if you will excuse me, I need rejoin an email argument over band names and photo sessions…

Until the next time, keep the dream (whatever it may be) alive.

Bloog!