The Next Audition Will Be Priceless…

When last we left our antihero, he had just flubbed an audition for a really good classic rock band.  He had not just flubbed it - he botched it so thoroughly that no one even knew he could play the guitar at all.  He strongly suspected that he showed up with someone else’s fingers on his hands that night.

Shifting to the first person, I keep an eye on the local papers for Guitarist Wanted ads that might interest me.  Last night one such ad almost jumped up and bit me.  “Guitar player wanted for Led Zep tribute act.”  Since the Zep is one of my favorite bands and I would not have any problem with playing only their tunes onstage, I figured this was tailor-made for me.

The last time ad I came across like this was “Plant, Jones, and Bonham seeking Page.”  Ok, that was borderline creative: I responded.  Although there was absolutely no emphasis put on looking the part, I was a bit shocked to meet the singer, who had precious little hair, mostly by choice (good day job).  They had a great drummer, he sang really well (probably phonetically), and they were great to jam with.  The only problem was that we rented rehearsal space to get things together and the bass player (Jones) just flat out neglected to show up.  End of Zep Tribute Band #1.

I hate musicians (and I are one - allegedly).

Naturally I forgot to write down the guy’s number so I checked online.  Not a trace of the ad.  That would be about right.  Went back to the machine that had the number and called the guy (we’ll call him Plant to protect the innocent - and Robert Plant).

ring ring

(older-sounding lady)  Hello?

Hi, is Plant there?

(slight groan) Who’s calling?

I’m leftystrat, calling about Plant’s ad.

(yelling) PLANT!

(answer from way in the background)  WHAT DO YOU WANT, MOM??

(Mom) It’s the phone for you.

WHO THE F$*# IS IT?

(hushed voice) shhhh.. he’s calling about an ad

It was at this precise moment that two thoughts occurred to me.  This is somewhat out of the ordinary, as it’s usually only one thought that occurs to me.  Due to my almost complete lack of a filter, things that occur to me generally get blurted out.

In this case, because two things occurred, one thing actually occurred first, which was the sound of alarm bells going off, along with the mental picture of some long-haired forty year old dude living at home with his mom and yelling at her all the time.

Almost immediately on the heels of Thing One was Thing Two.  Because of my genetic inability to concentrate on more than one thing at a time, Thing Two rammed right into the rear of Thing One, pushing Thing One right out of my (alleged) mind.  Unable to hold onto a thought for more than a millisecond, all of my attention went immediately to Thing Two, as if Thing One had never occurred to me.  In fact, if I hadn’t just typed that there were two things that occurred to me, I’d probably still be thinking that only one thing occurred to me, making this just another day.

Thing Two was the immediate realization that I had to get an audition regardless of what it was going to take.  This was going to be a positively hilarious experience, whether or not I even got the gig.  It was going to be something not to be missed.  Even if I had to lie and tell them Jimmy Page personally taught me all of the tunes and wanted me to further his legacy by setting up Led Zep tribute franchises all over the country.  This was going to be my audition, regardless of whose fingers showed up at the ends of my hands when I tried to play.

Do you see what I go through for you?  Without taking my personal pain or the possible trauma of an audition into consideration, I leap forward, strictly for the experience, which I will of course report right here for you (both of you reading this blog, Mom).  I am doing this all for your entertainment.  My pain is going to be hysterical, trust me.

Meanwhile back on the phone……

YO - HOOZIS?

Hi, it’s leftystrat, calling about your ad.

HEY-  HOWYADOIN?

Good, thanks.  So, do you … have the band together?

I BEEN DOIN DIS FOR YEARS, YEAH.  I GOT DRUMS, BASS, AND A F*$&ING SINGER.

Ok, that’s a good start.  What’s the plan?

WELL, I GOT SOME OLD F*(&ING CONNECTIONS SO WE HAVE PLACES TO PLAY AND SH*T.

Excellent.  How much do you plan on playing?

OH, MAYBE EVERY OTHER WEEK OR SOME-IN LIKE THAT.

I have a real job so I’m just looking to have fun playing music I like.  Are you going for the look?

I LOOK JUST LIKE F*(&ING JOHN BONHAM.  I EVEN HAVE HIS DRUM SET.

(suppressing the urge to ask if he looks like him before or after he died) The orange see-through Ludwigs - wasn’t that it?

(PAUSE) …. YEAH - THOSE.   I GOT F*(&ING TWO OF EVERYTHING IN CASE SOMETHING F*(&ING BREAKS. I BEEN DOIN THIS FOR F*(&ING YEARS AND YEARS.

I gotta be honest, I don’t look like Page, though.  I’m male and have long dark hair - that’s about the end of the similarities.

S’COOL.  I DON’T GIVE A F*(& IF YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE HIM.

I can play the parts though.  So… do you… want me to come audition or anything?

(silence)

I’M SORRY - I WAS TRYING TO TALK TO YOU AND VACUUM AT THE SAME TIME.  I DROPPED THE F*(&ING PHONE.  SORRY.  YEAH, I BEEN VACUUMING A LOT LATELY.  IT’S BEEN THIS WAY SINCE ABOUT CHRISTMAS OR SOMETHING.  SOMETIMES MY BUDS COME OVER AND WE CAN GO ALL DAY.  BUT I GOTTA PUT AWAY THE VACUUM(S) AND MAKE ROOM FOR THE DRUMS AGAIN.

Yeah, great.  When did you have in mind?

WHADDAYA MEAN - LIKE, WHAT DAY?

Yeah and what tunes would you like me to have down cold?

OH MAN, WE DO ALL THE COOL STUFF.  YOU KNOW, THE F*(&ING STUFF OFF THE GOOD ALBUMS… NOT THE F*(&ING SH*T EVERYONE ELSE PLAYS. [at this point he literally goes through the entire catalog of albums, listing the 4 or 5 tunes they do from each one]

Ok, got it.  When is good?

WELL - I GOTTA FIND THE BASS PLAYER AND CHECK WIT HIM.  MAYBE NEXT WEEK OR SOMETHIN - OK?

Next week’s good.  Would you like to… take my number… or should I call you next week?

YEAH.  WAIT.  LEMME GET A CRAYON AND A T-SHIRT TO WRITE ON….

—————————————————————————————————

Ok, he didn’t really mention getting a crayon, although I can’t rule out that he used one.  It was a good thing I kept prompting him, as the questions were only going to get tougher as the call went on.

He gave me the name of the band and said I should go look them up online - BECAUSE I could see pictures of him playing the drums.  [sorry - the F*(&ING drums]

I’m not sure but I think he might’ve been under the impression that I really was a fan of his and needed to see him play the drums in order to enrich my life that much more…

I was serious about asking if he wanted me to call back because as a drummer, he might not know how to write.  Most rock musicians can’t count past four anyway (and this is with their clothes off!).

I’m telling you, this is going to be absolutely beyond belief when it happens.  My only regret is that I can’t slip a camera crew in to webcast the whole shebang live, as it goes down.

Please keep in mind that as funny as just the phone call was, I really want this gig.  I’m a damn serious guitar player, even if I never look or act it.  I’m a damn serious Zep fan too.  But this experience is likely to be so incredibly nutty that I need to make it happen regardless of whether I get the gig or not.

I looked up the band online.   They’re obviously not too concerned about their guitarist looking like Jimmy Page: the last one had short, spiky blonde hair.  The singer has Plant-ish hair and can sing.  The drummer, contrary to every thought I had, is good.  He does a very credible Bonzo and even manages to F*(&ING look like him (before he died, fortunately).

I keep having flashbacks to high school though.  The guy sounds like everyone I went to school with.  If he has a joint hanging out of his mouth when I meet him, I will instantly develop an incurable case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I keep thinking I’m going to meet them and realize I used to go to school with or jam with them.  Or worse, I used to make horrible fun of him for being a stoner brain-dead drummer (redundant, I know).

Failing that, we will make beautiful music together.   I’ll report back after the audition.

P.S.  If I get the gig, I have the perfect excuse to get one of those doubleneck Gibsons that Jimmy Page plays.  Never mind that I’ll have to custom order it left-handed through the Custom Shop, which may have stopped making most lefties anyway… it will only be 4 or 6 grand… why worry?