Ad Liberation

This is my new pick-up for my blue guitar. I think it's going to be pretty good. From what I hear, it's going to punch, crunch, grind and generally unleash hellish fury. I'm looking forward to getting it under my strings to feel it's verve and spank, and I'm going to give it some stick and see how it barks. Can't wait.

Last Wednesday I went to the rehearsal studio in Shimokitazawa with Nic, the Colombian drummer, and we had our regular Wednesday rehearsal. We have been rehearsing now for about three months (in our 10 to 1pm time slot) and every time we've met there the weather has been just splendid, adding to the pleasantness of our day. After meeting at the station and sometimes stopping by for an Egg McMuffin, we make our way to the studio and crank it up.

I have to say, playing in a band (even half a band) has always been one of the most enjoyable undertakings in my life. I just love shredding it up with other people. I have such fond memories of my former bands such as Sonic Minds (AKA: Sonic Boom), Tripping Blue (AKA: Blue Tipple), The Winged Avengers, Blood Red Sand, ACCA and Jay Soul Brothers. I recall proudly walking onstage in so many "unique" venues. Who could forget Friday night jazz in the entrance of the Village cinema Pizza Hut (we got paid in pizza). Or the drunk thug party out in Airport West (playing '60s pop to a bunch of metal-starved satanists). Not to mention the one that began it all - the ever-memorable show at K Mart Boronia (breaking a string in front of an audience that consisted of about three elderly women only to realise that they were only waiting for us to finish so they could get to the bargain tray directly behind the band).

Anyway, back to the purpose of this post: my bright idea. Everytime Nic and I rehearse at the studio, we start off with an impromtu jam of some sort - either he'll crank out a rhythm and I'll join in, or I'll start hammering on a riff and he'll back me up. This is pretty standard rehearsal warm-up for many people however, one thing we try to do is give the ad-libedness some structure by changing the riff every eight bars or so to create a basic song structure. We also add bridges and solo sections on the fly. Again, nothing really original but it gave me an interesting idea: some of the stuff we come up sounds really good first time played and so why not plan out eight or so basic song structures (different tempos and arrangements etc, but with a pre-determined key) and then perform live with no knowledge of what riffs, chords or melodies you are going to sing and play. Just get up on stage and make it all up as you go, using the pre-planned structure to determine how to start and how to finish and when to solo etc. Now, some might say that this is similar to what jazz musicians do all the time but this would be in a rock environment with defined riffs and progressions etc. It would be a totally unique musical experience! You and the audience would hear the music for the first time together and every time it would be new and different. It would be a constantly changing thing. It would flow with the universe in accordance with the laws of impermanence. It would be Ad Liberation!

Forsaken

Snow, snow, where for art thou snow? Everwhere but bloody Tokyo! Snow is a gift that comes but once or twice a year in Tokyo, and only if you are really lucky does it stay around long enough for you to pick it up, compact it and throw it into the face of a friend. Only if you are really lucky do you get enough that it stays around for days and eventually gets dirty by the side of the road, allowing you to break off a big piece and kick it down the footpath in the tradition of Snow Soccer. Such wonderful memories I have of snow. But alas, this winter it snows everywhere but Tokyo. The winter chill here has been more bitter than usual and only bearable with the promise of those glorious white flakes falling from the sky. But God forsakes us Australians in Tokyo and gives his snow to those who want it not.

In fact, not only does he give it to those who do not ask, he gives it to them by the metre. Not one or two, but THREE metres in some places! There have been record snowfalls in many places all over Japan and in some northern areas, the snow is such a problem that they are calling for volunteers to come and assist in the removal of snow from village streets and rooftops of houses to prevent their collapse. But for work I would be there in a flash! Although I'm not sure I could control myself and would probably end up constructing snow pyramids and igloos instead or focussing on the job at hand. I think they would tell me to go back from whence I came and not come back until I'm ready to act like an adult. I'm not sure if I could handle such a frosty reception... I think I'd like to live for a year in a place that gets heaps of snow, just to get all the excitement out of my system. Having to shovel it out off my driveway and off my car every morning, and having to make tunnels to my front door might help to cure me of my disorder. Come to think of it, better make that three years.

This is a picture of a recent avalanche at a ski resort. Local authorities have issued avalanche warnings in areas where 5 or more houses are at risk should an avalanche occur. So far, the total number of these avalanche risk areas is in the thousands.

So, I guess if the white glory doesn't come my way, I may just have to venture North and seek out sub-zero amusement by myself. Anyone wanna come?

All Jazzed Up

It has recently been drawn to my attention that a blogger is for life, not just for Christmas. I have received hate mail from close family members urging me to update my blog or die. Therefore I will now continue my blog.

Last Saturday, I was invited by my Colombian friend Nic to go and see him play drums at a live house in Akasaka. He goes to this place every Monday for their session night where you take turns getting up on stage to play cool jazz tunes with some very good musicians. Nic tells me that, among others, a very famous American jazz bass player by the name of Stanley Gilbert goes there every Monday to jam. Very cool if you're into jazz. Not so cool if heavy metal chug and blazing speed runs at impressive volume are your fancy. Nevertheless, I allowed myself to be seductively lured into the world of jazz for a night. After all, this wasn't a session night - it was a trial for Nic to see if he could become a permanent member of the Saturday night show. He also mentioned that they were going to be playing bossa nova and I was intrigued to see how different it would be live, compared with my Casiotone keyboard's rhythm section.

Well, I rocked up and out of the subway station in Akasaka which is kind of an older persons' Roppongi (night club district) full of small, excessively overpriced bars, live music joints and hostess clubs - much sauce to be had for old dudes with gold teeth and Gucci man bags. I found the club easily enough with my skillful eye (the other one was poked out by a crow), ventured to the elevator and arrived on the second floor in my best jazz stance, five minutes before the show was due to start.

I was greeted in a friendly manner by the female proprietor who apparently used to be a jazz singer of note (aren't puns great). In my suavest gait, I proceeded to follow the old girl into the main club area which was outfitted like a billiard room in an old English mansion. No disrespect intended, but the Japanese tend to go well astray when it comes to doing the European style thing. Art Deco lamp stands and mahogany display cases filled with gold-rimmed granny tea cups and Beatrix Potter crockery, plonked rather awkwardly in the corner of a tatami-mat room. This club didn't have tatami mats but I have seen many Japanese living rooms with such furniture. Although I guess we can't complain - how many of us have those mini curtains that hang over doorways or framed Japanese calligraphy on our walls??? I am sure the locals here would think that pretty cheezy. May as well tack a big block of Coon on your livingroom wall. Anyway, back to the story. Added to the artistic decor was velour seating typical of Japanese "snack" bars, signatures of famous people on framed cards and a lamp-lit painting on the wall that changed colour as the lamp slowly dimmed on and off. I could smell the gouda on that one at ten paces. But! None of that compared to the stark reality that was present before me. For I was infact the only person in the room. The sole customer, apart from the band. I wanted to make an about turn and charge out of there in a heavy metal manner, but I was quickly escorted by my hostess to a table right in front of the band - yes, these three musicians were going to play for me. Just me. It was really fucking bad man.

Then came the menu. I wasn't sure how much all of this was going to cost but I was told that the "music charge" was 3000yen ($35) plus whatever for drinks. So I opened the menu and gazed cooly at the contents, trying ever so hard to mask the grief of my solitude. After about fifteen seconds, my eyes actually focussed on the paper to see some writing that said "beer $13". I blinked a few times, shook my head and then looked at a different part of the page to see something else that said "whiskey $21". My grief suddenly turned to panic as I searched for the softdrinks section. I fumbled through the pages but only saw "Cognac $28". No, no ,no!!! SOFTDRINKS! Ahhh cola! I found cola! But wait: "cola $8.50" Shit! I was trapped! What about coffee? "coffee $15, (two cups)!" What kind of evil menu only allows you to buy coffee two cups at a time.

My bewilderment was interupted only by the old girl coming back with a smile to receive my ski resort-priced order. I looked at her face. I could read her mind. She was saying, "You should cover the bass player." Upon being queried as to my selection, I had to quickly make a decision. Coke was what I wanted, but bad form in a jazz bar. I decided to cut my losses and order the double coffee - if I paced myself carefully I could get out of this relatively unscathed.
"I'm still recovering from a hangover so I might just have the coffee," I said with attempted joviality. She looked up and glared at me like I'd just confessed to raping her daughter. After a few seconds she broke her glare and said, "white or black?" I could read her mind again. She was saying, "Fucking gaijin." I indicated that black coffee would suffice and then she vanished only to return once again to deliver my coffee.

The band. Fortunately, the band waited another half hour for a few more punters to rock up and fortunately two more did soon after. The band then started up and played very nice jazz. The piano player was awsome - a true shredder. The bass player was a bit of a wanker. His solos were way too long and self indulgent - even for jazz. And his double bass intonation was suspect. I wouldn't be so harsh on the dude except for the fact he didn't provide Nic with any information about what they were going to play. All he did was snap his fingers to a tempo as a count in to the song and he expected Nic to follow suit without any reference to style or any song titles. He was really putting Nic on the spot which, even in the most professional of realms, is unnecessary in my opinion. There's no harm in taking just a few seconds to mention the style of the song etc and making sure everyone knows what they are playing. I guess he was putting him under pressure to see how he went, but I think that is missing the big picture a bit. Needless to say, Nic kicked ass - he is a killer drummer. There will be further mention of my Colombian friend in blog entries to come as we are together involved in things musical.

Anyway, that concludes this rather lengthy blog entry.