TT's Guide To Starting A Cover Band, Part One

Having played in many bands over the years, I’ve gained much experience and knowledge in the area of performing. And while I had a couple of stints in bands that worked on “making it” with original material, the majority of these years (especially the past decade) has been spent whoring myself in countless cover bands. Wanting to set your mind into starting a cover band? I think U better close it and let me guide U…

Know the song, don’t learn the song

“What’s the difference?” you might ask. Many people make the mistake of concentrating solely on playing the song – the chords, the lyrics, the ending, etc. But if you aren’t familiar with the song, you’ll forget the little things. Is the solo section 4 bars or 8? Is the bridge after the second chorus or the third? LISTEN to the damn song all the way through over and over without an instrument on your lap, without listening to YOUR part. KNOW the song so when you’re playing it, you automatically know where to go when.

T - - E - - M - - P - - O

If your drummer can’t keep a beat or plays too fast, you’re screwed. Might as well just forget it and quit before the first practice is over, because he’s gonna lead you down a path of putrid aural chaos. Having played with some of the best drummers around, I’ve been spoiled. There’s nothing more frustrating than a sucky drummer. Too many yahoos spend an inordinate amount of time playing badass fills and rushing to the next cool section of a song. Mr. Jackson said it best - Relax your mind…lay back and groove with mine.


Be versatile

Don't be a band that just plays between the lines. Find some guys who have an ear for music and can play requests on the fly. There's nothing wrong with saying no to requesters or at least asking them to show a tit or two, but be prepared when the hot girls make requests for gay songs you wouldn't necessarily be caught dead performing otherwise.

Leave them wanting more

There's nothing more pathetic than a band who plays an overly looooong third set in front of four drunks who keep asking for "Sweet Caroline" or "Sweet Home Alabama". Know when the party's over and step away while the fire's still hot. There's nothing wrong with leaving the audience wanting more...

I'll offer more hot tips in a future post.

Kids With Mohawks - Why?

This is a phenomenon that is growing like a weed, because I've noticed several of these poor children on the beach this week. I'm not talking about teenagers but small children! For the love of everything good and holy, why would any parent allow their child to have a freaking Mohawk haircut? Not only is it classless, but it's just bad parenting. And yes, I know I'm not a parent. But, by God, I know I'd be better than any schmuck who'd let their kid out of the house looking like a Travis Barker mini-me. What's next, tats and piercings? Serenity now!

Beach Tools

When choosing a spot on the beach, I like to be fairly isolated - I like my own space. Earlier this week it was pretty easy but as the week has winded down, more folks have shown up and set up camp in their own spots. There are now more umbrellas and chairs, including a tall pole with an American flag and a Univ. of Alabama flag underneath it.

Yesterday, I walked out and discovered that a group of tools had erected their own Neverland right next to our stuff. There was a 10x10 LSU tent with a bunch of chairs and towels strewn around it. A group of douchebag clones were gathered - twentysomething guys holding beers (along with their dicks), wearing visors, standing around talking about intellectual topics such as NASCAR, animals they've killed and what they bought on their last trip to Home Depot. Their shitty music was blasting from underneath the tent, deafening the other beachgoers around them.

I decided to relinquish my space and move a few feet beyond our original spot. That's when one of the tools walked over with a small orange flag and said, "Hey man - is this yours?"

"No, but it was here yesterday. I don't know who it belongs to," I said.

"Yeah, we ought to use it to cover up that Alabama stuff over there."

I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly. "What?"

"We need to cover up that damn Alabama flag over there."

"Um, yeah, I went there,", I said, making my annoyance obvious to this jackass.

"Oh, well we're all all Auburn grads and our wives went to LSU," said the genius.

I looked past him and scanned his buddies shooting the breeze next to their tent.

"Nice pairing," I snickered, with conspicuous disdain. I picked up my stuff and proceeded to relocate to spot a good distance away, making it clear that I didn't want any part of their group or any pissing contest over SEC affiliation. They spent the rest of the day tossing the frisbee and frattin' it up with their Tigerettes in tow.

Rumifications from Day 1 At The Beach

- I can't stand what I call "car clusters" on the interstate. See if this sounds familiar: you're driving 80 on cruise control - no one around you, perfect conditions; a group of 3 or 4 cars approach and then hover around you for several miles at inconsistent speeds. You pass them, they pass you, they mess up your pace and you keep having to tap the brake to disengage the cruise control. "Screw this," you say, and floor it to 100 just to get a half mile ahead of these bozos and drive at your own speed by yourself. A few minutes later, they catch up with you again, cluster around you and linger. Why the f**k do people do this?

- Similar scenario: you walk out onto the wide open beach - only a few people out there and plenty of space. You stake out your own spot, away from other people. A young couple saunters out a little later, plopping down 10 yards away. Whatever. Soon afterwards, a family appears out of nowhere, hauling coolers, rafts, chairs, umbrellas and loud children. Where do they decide set up camp? You got it - 10 yards away on the other side. You sit up, look around at the vast empty beach in either direction, turn back to glare at your new neighbors, and wonder why the f**k these people felt it necessary to invade your space. Same thing happenes in movie theaters by the way.

- I'm gonna sound like a hypocrite in light of my last post, but I've had it with the Michael Jackson tributes and retrospectives on every single news and/or cable channel. Enough already. Peace out.

Another GD Michael Jackson Tribute

I hate to pile on with another Michael Jackson tribute but the man deserves it. I’ve often said that I was a fan of his “when he was black”. It’s partially a joke but it is also true. When he was making real soul music, there was no one ever better and for a time, everything he touched was gold. His albums Off The Wall and Thriller are simply two of the greatest albums of all time. If you’re wondering about that, I’d like you to turn off your TV, turn off your cell phone, lock yourself in a room and listen. This is what I did over and over and over again as a kid. Listen to Side One (the first five songs on your CD) of Off The Wall. That sequence of songs – "Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough", "Rock With You", "Working Day And Night", "Get On The Floor" and "Off The Wall" – might be the greatest side of a record ever. Listen to the drums, the handclaps, the rhythm guitar, the percussion – listen closely to it all. What you’re hearing is called a groove, and no one executed it better than Michael did in this phase of his career. Thriller is right up there, too.

After that, it all started going downhill. Bad was just, well, bad, and I don’t WTF he was doing beyond that. But regardless of that or any of his batshit crazyness, there’s no denying that he was a genius. What he and Quincy Jones created during those younger years will never be duplicated. For years I had a recurring daydream that I met Michael and he actually solicited my advice about how to regain his career and become relevant again in music circles. I would tell him this:

“Lose all the sampling and drum machines. Write grooves, write songs the way you used to – in your head, not on a freaking computer. Hire real musicians and have them play real acoustic instruments. Make your music organic again, make it come from your soul. Don’t try to keep up with the latest sounds and trends in music. Do it your way. And if you do, you’ll become huge again, I guarantee it.”

Alas, he never did. But I’ll always remember the way he used to do it, and baby it grooved.

Get Out Of My Life

I have had it with this whole Jon & Kate thing. Until a few months ago, I had no clue who these people were. Then I continued to hear tidbits on the news about this couple who, as I later learned, have a reality show about themselves and their eight kids. Wonderful parenting idea.

Now their marital problems have invaded my life. I can't watch the Today show, read a magazine or a blog without being inundated with updates on this freaking family that I couldn't give two shits about. Unfortunately, there are scores of idiots out there who do care - whose lives are somehow unfulfilled unless they can live vicariously through others. Stay out of my life, Jon & Kate, and please allow your children to grow up normally instead of on everyone's TV sets.

Re-Post

It's hotter than a half-bred fox in a forest fire.
It's hotter than a June bride in a feather bed.
It's hotter than a ginger mill in Hades.
It's hotter than the devil's dick.
It's hotter than a four-balled tom cat.
It's hotter than a flaming bag of turd.
It's hotter than Oprah's underwear during a hot flash.
It's hotter than a snake's ass in a wagon rut.
It's hotter than a two-peckered goat.

And an old favorite...it's hotter than two rats f**king in a wool sock.