the Blues Brothers & their hateful version of the blues
Therein lies my "What am I doing? I am better than this" story. (I caught the archive late last night; couldn't call in b/c, well, read on..)
I'm a part-time musician, and I play with several groups around town. I do some work for a small theater company that performs staged readings of popular films (mostly kitschy 80s stuff). This month's offering is--you guessed it--
The Blues Brothers, and we've put together a full 10-piece band for the musical numbers (I'm on bass guitar--Duck Dunn!). The staged reading is a one-off event, so we decided to book a couple of club dates for the band.
Now I am no fan of the "tribute band" fad that's currently sweeping the clubs where I used to go to hear (and play) original music, but people ask me to do stuff, and I try not to say no when a) they're friends, b) there's a payday. Not only that, but Duck Dunn is one of the greatest bassists on the planet (in fact every member of the BB's backing band was a heavy cat). I had several angles by which to justify my involvement in a project that I would never in a million years pay to see.
So last night I drove home from rehearsal, thinking to myself 'Man...this is starting to sound GOOD! The band's getting pretty tight!' I'd managed to suppress my cynical leanings and was allowing myself to get excited about the shows. Then I got home, opened up the archive player and listened to Tom open the show with a Blues Brothers tirade, and the walls came crashing down, and I was at last confronted with the sad reality of my situation: I'm playing in
a tribute to a tribute band. And a lousy one at that.