Gearhead

September brought a slew of activity and I was happy to get back into a routine at home . The first gig was with the Silent Summer Nights Monster Orchestra, an annual film soundtrack performance series every Labour Day Weekend. Through his Eye of New Collective, Stefan Smulovitz continues his long tradition of presenting improvised sountracks to movies, mostly the silent variety, or at least with the original soundtrack turned off. SSN is held over three nights at Grandview Park, and the final night features a large group of improvisors, about 26 this time round.


I played percussion, bringing out the Big Rack, and was part of the percussion section with Joel Lower and Gary Wildeman on drum kits. Playing with them is a gas and I feel I lock in better with them every year. The night got off to a good start when I won a door prize pack from Womyn's Ware, including some massage oil and a nice little stuffed Orgasm, which is apparently the new pet rock. On the whole the night was quite successful. The movie was Fritz Lang's masterpiece Metropolis from 1927. There were three conductors, Stefan, Coat Cooke and Giorgio Magnanensi, so you had to keep your focus on them all of the time. Each had a specific role and would jump in and take over in various combinations. Having the Big Rack, I could provide sound effects, play time with the drums, or play Stefan's written melodies on the crotales, so I was able to function in a few different roles. I played a bit at the afterparty at the WISE Hall, but the music wasn't really happening, so I called it a night.

Later in the week, I played at a private function with Footprints Jazz Trio, basically the Wanda Nowicki group sans Wanda. Since we started gigging with her, we've had a lot less trio gigs, so it was nice to go instrumental again. I certainly needed to blow the rust out of my tenor, which I hadn't touched in the month of August. The organization of this gig left a lot to be desired. We were promised dinner, but the food only appeared when we were playing, and nothing was set aside for us. Then, with about two numbers to go, one of the organizers told me that they wouldn't have a cheque for me for at least three weeks. I was choked and let her know that I would have to pay the guys out of my own pocket. My friend who had arranged the gig was laying low, knowing I wouldn't be very happy about the payment situation. Serves me right for not looking after the details.

It certainly resonated with me today when I read Cory Weeds' latest blog installment about the value people place on live musicians. I was originally asked to do this gig for free, which I refused. Then I saw their advertising where they prominently featured the word Jazz. They finally came back to me offering a reasonable payment, probably after they were refused by a number of other musicians.

So I join Cory in wondering what value the general public puts our chosen art form. Nowadays music students spend untold thousands of dollars on instruments and related accessories, private lessons, college and various workshops, not to mention thousands of unpaid hours in the practice room. With the exception of a few places in the town, if you want to work regularly and aren't at the top of the jazz food chain, you play for the door or get paid peanuts. It doesn't make sense. Yet we persist.

It puts me in mind of the last gig at Rime that I did with the Wanda Nowicki Group. We agreed to play for the door because we were confident that we would be a good draw and we were, so we got reasonably paid for our efforts. During the second set, a group of guys came in and wouldn't pay the cover. They sat at a table near the back of the main floor, not far from the stage and talked loudly. On the break, Wanda went over to the table and very diplomatically asked for a cover fee. They all refused. Obviously their precious money was better spent on beer. I really wanted to find out where they worked, so I could be as discourteous in their job situation. Assholes.

We do persist in this because we love what we do. I am fortunate that I love the music that I am playing and so will take a certain amount of crap in order to perform. I have friends who are longtime professional symphony players and are burnt out. They hate the music that they do, being in a city where the repertoire is very conservative, playing Bach, Brahms and Beethoven year in and year out, yet it's the only way they can make a living. I am indeed fortunate to live in a city like Vancouver.

I'm looking forward to the next few days. Saturday night will be the first gig with Wanda since July, then I have a set on Monday evening with ion Zoo at the Cellar. These two musical styles are as different as chalk and cheese. I enjoy them both immensely.

Wanda's going to be at Seb's Market Bistro on East Broadway, a place where we always enjoy playing. It's cramped, but the food and the atmosphere is great and owner Francois always treats us well.

At the Cellar, we are going to have a focussed set. I am only going to play only bass clarinet and soprano sax, Clyde will be playing his cut-down travelling bass, and Carol will bring her full voice. Sometimes it's a really interesting exercise to achieve more by using less - the power of limitation.

Which brings me to what I was originally planning to write about. Hi my name is Steve and I am a gearhead. There, I've said it.

I own quite a number of instruments, a lot if you count the percussion individually. I have had most of my saxophones for between 15 to 25 years, and my closed-hole flute for over 30 years. Some of my percussion has been around for that long too.

The last sax I bought was my Serie III Selmer tenor, over 8 years ago. My clarinets have come in the last couple of years (coming out of my experience with Maria Schneider at Banff) and I just got the open-hole flute this past June. Most of my percussion has been purchased from eBay, which is insidious in its ease to absorb my money.

It's the accessories for some of the wind instruments which is an endless source of gear-hunting - new mouthpieces, reeds, ligatures, custom necks, new cases to replace 30 year old junkers, stands. It goes on and on.

Then there was the PA system last year, which gigging with Wanda has paid off. I got some really nifty mics, then pre-amps, compressors, a parametric EQ... There were my computers, a laptop, a couple of printers, various peripherals... Now it's digital camera equipment - lenses, another printer, neat accessories, cases, WAAAAGGGGHHH!

My only justification is that I'm not as bad a gear fanatic as this guy who has dozens of mouthpieces, or that guy who buys a case of reeds just to find the right one, or the guy with the complete home recording studio, but never uses it.

I tried to be a one-horn guy. Lord knows I tried. I envy a musician like Lori Freedman who hasn't bought anything new for her bass clarinet other than reeds for the last 25 years. She professes to not remember what type of mouthpiece she plays and has very little interest in seeing what the new instruments are like. She is the Anti-Gearhead. Guys like Dave Say, who's playing the same horn (albeit a very nice one) that he's had since high school, one that's so out of adjustment that a mere mortal couldn't get a note out of it. Yet he never sounds anything less that great every time I hear him.

I'd like to be like them, but I'm just not wired that way. I'm the classic jack of all trades, master of none. And I'm happy to be like that.