In the moments before I leave for another show with Tin Horse, I want to write a little bit about our show last week in Hammond, IN.
We played at the Pioneer Tap, a bar we’d never seen, let alone played. Friends of members of the band (who shall remain nameless because I don’t know who they are) said it was “a real country bar”, a place where they sometimes have fights, and they really know their country music. Many of us in the band are latecomers to country music — we’re quite good at it, but it wouldn’t be right to say we were “born country”. So hearing about all this authenticity brought visions of the Blues Brothers playing behind chicken wire. We could take solace in knowing a lot more than just Rawhide and Stand By Your Man, but still, there was some trepidation.
The bass player and I rode over there together, and it turned out to be a small struggle. The streets in that part of northwest Indiana do not feature very clear signage, and there are many over- and underpasses. Getting there involved one turn that was almost a 180, and that was the one that we were supposed to make — never mind the wrong turns.
When we eventually got there, we were greeted by the three women tending bar, who were all very friendly. We introduced ourselves, and looked around. There were a few people there — it was looking like a night that would be pretty sparse, which every band has to get used to in the beginning. The stage was pretty dingy, which is nothing new, but the main problem was that the rest of the band wasn’t there yet. Our manager, who (bless his heart) also volunteers to drive my drums from the rehearsal studio to most of our gigs, and had all the sound equipment, and who drives like a bat out of hell, and who likes to be there early, wasn’t there yet. Several phone calls, and about twenty minutes, later, he rolled in with most of the others.
The bar had booked us originally to play five sets, which is a lot for anyone, especially a band where there’s singing. People’s voices just get worn out, so playing that many would be kind of ridiculous. Fortunately, the manager (bless his heart again) talked them down to three sets, which is more typical. This was another source of nerves for us, wondering if we were going to seem too soft for not sucking it up and screaming ourselves hoarse if we had to. The bar booked a DJ to play when we weren’t, so he was spinning tunes while we were setting up, between sets, and after we finished.
We set up and got everything ready pretty fast for a group our size (seven players plus the manager), and when we started our sound check, the microphones weren’t working. One of the less sober patrons yelled something unintelligible at us, and the DJ said “come on now, they’re just soundchecking, give ‘em a break” into his mic. We were all thinking “oh boy, here we go.”
Turned out, we had nothing to worry about. Once we got the mics working and started our sound check in earnest, running through pieces of tunes, the customers were a lot happier. When we finished, they clapped. And that was how it went through the whole night. It’s not like we could have played terribly and done well — we did play a good show. We made some mistakes here and there, forgetting words for a second or blowing an intro, but mostly stuff that people don’t really notice or care about. They danced, applauded, hooted and hollered. They liked the original songs at least as much as the covers. It was so relaxed, we decided to try some of the new songs we’re learning (covers like Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy and Devil Went Down to Georgia) that we don’t really have down yet. Almost everything was a hit.
We didn’t know it, but we were apparently playing in a place where people in that part of the state go to listen to music. Whether it’s played by a DJ or a band, the people all come from miles around, and they come in and listen. Some people talk to each other, but the focus of attention is the music. It’s a great place to play if you’re a country band, or at least it was for us this time. And it’s not just country either — the DJ played rock music, and even the notorious My Humps by Blackeyed Peas.
We’ll be back in May, and maybe before then; I’m looking forward to it. It’s not too far from here, pays pretty well, and the crowd was great. Maybe we just hit a really friendly night (the bouncer told me they had extra security there because we had so many “good looking women in the band, we want to avoid a riot”), but it reminded me of our first night down at Fred’s Dance Barn last year.
Happy New Year! I’m surrounded by dear friends, my darling wife, and a whole bunch of good food. You can’t start a new year much better than this.