Rancho Relaxo, Thursday night, 10pm (ish). I’m suppose to play but there’s only 8 people, 5 are the band that plays after me.

There is a turntable by the soundboard and they are playing something horrible by Black Sabbath. For me that would be anything by Black Sabbath. I remember as metal emerged in the 70s how I dismissed it. I still don’t have any love there.

I understand these young guys find it amazing and ironic. That’s how I might describe my love of Burt Bacharach or maybe they just shouldn’t be compared.

Promoter guy tells me we’ll wait 10 minutes before you start. I think every promoter in my life has always said that to me.  I ask the sound-man if I could change the vinyl? I look through and pick out three things. Jackie Wilson, Smokey Robinson and  77 by Talking Heads. I go to the bar.

bartender: (sings) here comes a clue

me: (sings) if you are really smart you’ll know what to do

bartender smiles realizing we both know the early Talking Heads.

me: he’s a great artist.

bartender: yes. the first 5 albums are an amazing run.

me: the 5th one would be the live record?

bartender: nope speaking in tongues. 1rst is 77, 2cnd more songs about buildings and food, 3rd remain in light, 4th fear of music-

me: no. fear of music is the third.

bartender: no remain in light is the third one

me: no. sorry. fear of music

bartender: uh uh remain in light.

me: it was 1979, fear of music.

bartender indifferently sways head to say no.

me: dude i was there.

bartender: (pauses and looks at the ceiling doing a math equation) oh right! fear of music was the third one.