At the rehearsal, the guitar was so loud that the three vocalists were obliterated. Instead of directing the guitarist to turn down, this time I tried to get the singers to ask themselves. One was game to speak up, their frustration obvious, but one didn’t care and the third felt like asking the guitarist to turn down would make them appear uncool. So only one voiced a concern about the disruption and no fellow player backed them up. And the guitarist remains not tuned into thinking about their affect. Like watching the news.
There was a time after high school, when Linton Kwesi Johnson, The Specials and Dory Previn were mostly on my turntable, that was lucky. Last week, in one of my classes the teacher assigned us to read about the murder of Mickey Smith who I never heard of before. This has been my favourite assignment so far.
I went into the pizza place my daughter favours, where always there is a sports channel playing and I don’t follow many sports but tonight curling was on. And between me explaining why they are sweeping and what they are throwing and naturally making up names and occupations for the different curlers, I couldn’t believe the state of modern advertising. Slogans bombarding all over the ice and worse the sides made of video monitors alternating advertisements the entire time. Pretty difficult to enjoy any game when corporate dumbness is a strobe light. I first noticed in the 80s sponsorships by musicians in the liner notes of albums. So and so only uses such and such guitar strings, such and such drum heads – that’s why I’m still proud of the deal I cut with Lake Michigan Soda in 1991, thanks to their president, Frank Sweet (aka Mendelson Joe) for almost 30 years of partnership.