Keepin' It Real Quiet

Monday, March 28, 2011

Two weekends ago, we were asked to play at Uncle Billy's on Barton Springs Road in Austin. Pre-Story Side Note: For 2 out of the last 4 gigs we've played in Austin, we've been misspelled on the marquee. It's really interesting how people choose to spell Possum Posse. As you can see from the picture, Uncle Billy's spelled it "possume," as in "don't make a poss out of you and me." Jovita's (not pictured) spelled it "possum pose," which made me think of a Parisian model making some sort of uber-hip play-dead pose for the cameras at the end of the runway. My favorite spelling suggestion is from Dawn Elder, who was also at the gig, which is "P-awesome Posse" because it points out the fact that we're awesome, or at the least implies that we are in fact awesome. Anyway... Uncle Billy's is a cool place - they make their own micro-brew beers and have a nice, big patio for sitting around and drinking said micro-brewed beers and purportedly, to listen to live music. We were told that because of a certain neighbor of the bar, who had chosen to live in the middle of "the live music capital of the world," but who also does not like music, we would need to keep the sound level under 70 decibels. For those of you who are not familiar with the decibel system, 70 is roughly equivalent to the noise caused by creasing a fresh sheet of paper. So basically, we were asked to perform at roughly the same volume as someone making a flock of origami swans. And if you've been to a Possum Posse show before, you know 1) We rock way too hard for that... and 2) We are not good enough at controlling our instruments (and certain band members) to keep our sound within a reasonable volume. As always, I brought my foot-drum (see picture). I receive tons of compliments on it everywhere I go. People say things like... "wow, that thing actually plays?" and "what did you do to that perfectly good kick drum?" and "is that the ratchet strap you borrowed from me that I keep asking you to give back?" - all in a good context, of course. I have it "engineered" to play both a tambourine and a kick drum (and a snare, which I left at home on this particular occasion), but I knew the kick drum would be way over the 70 decibel level, so I told the manager that I would only be using it for the tambourine functionality. I used the word "functionality" to make it seem more like some sort of high-tech device and less like a piece of crap I strapped together and duct-taped into place. She seemed agreeable, but perhaps a bit suspicious. We started off with a nice, peaceful tune about doves or puppies or something - basically a Colorado-bluegrass style thing where we all sing in high and lonesome whispery voices that are barely audible to humans. The manager walked to the back of the deck and pulled out the decibel meter... after a quick reading she shot us a thumbs up. Boom. Business time. She disappeared into the inside-dining area and we immediately broke into our rendition of "What's Goin' On With Grandpa" - with heavy kick drum and group shouting (see photo of "Grandpa" lyric writer, Ross Baxter enjoying the show and a cold micro-brew). Soon we were on to other songs that included synchronized clapping, liberal usage of the vibraslap, Jes's wailing electric guitar solos, and heartfelt yelling. Of course, the crowd went wild. People were weeping for joy, dropping pulled pork bbq from their amazement-induced open jaws, and as a general rule, moving to the grooving. We were giving out tons of our Demo CD's, which incidentally make great coasters (see picture). The weather was great, and people really seemed to enjoy themselves. The tip bucket was filling up, the CD bin was emptying, and good times were being had by all. At one point, I noticed some people dancing toward the back of the patio. This is not uncommon at our shows because our music is so infectious, the good vibes tend to spread like whooping cough. Turns out, it was the manager and some random guy, dancing the night away. I guess she had slipped back out of the restaurant without our noticing and didn't mind the fact that we had grossly neglected the city's noise ordinance. After the show was over, we packed up our stuff and waited to see what the verdict was. After about 15 minutes, and no police or angry neighbors, we decided that nobody seemed to have noticed our raucousness. The management even invited us back for the next weekend! I think it was Robert's amazing performance during "Party in the USA" that was the nail in the coffin (see picture). I guess it's sort of like the great writer Aldos Huxley once said... "After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." Also, kind of like he said... "Silence is golden, but not when The Possum Posse is doing a show." - I think he said that. Photos by Chris Corona and Mike Wolfe

A Possum Party in the USA

Last weekend was a big one for The Possum Posse. We had three separate gigs in one weekend. Not only that, but we actually got paid at all three of them!

We played a great event at Sholz Garten where an elderly gentleman indicated his disdain for our music by placing his index fingers into his ears! We figured it was a positive sign that he didn't use his middle fingers.

We also played at Opal Divine's at Penn Field, where we ran into a gentleman with one of the most impressive mustaches we've seen in a long time. It had been a while since we played our song "M'stache," which is a really powerful anthem for anybody who isn't sure whether their significant other is dating them for their personality or just for easy access to their mustache.

The picture here is NOT the gentleman we saw, but his mustache is of similar style, though it was much larger and more impressive. We will try to post a video of the song shortly, as we are huge supporters of mustaches.

Our most crowning achievement of the weekend, however, came at our Jovita's Mexican Restaurant show on Friday night. Jovita's has remodeled, but persists as our favorite place to play due to its good Mexican food, cheap drinks, fun crowd, and willingness to let The Posse Play.

The gig started off like any other show... we got into a fight with each other concerning the set-list, had to make a run to the music shop because we forgot some equipment, got a flat tire on the way back from the music shop, and eventually made up with each other just prior to showtime.

But Robert had an interesting request. It seems his daughter is a huge Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus fan and wanted her dad to sing her favorite song. Not only that, but she insisted that his standing and playing the banjo would not cut it. She wanted him to do it like Miley does it - dance moves and all.

We agreed that the song would be perfect to play. We only play songs that pass a stringent set of criteria for lyricism, musical complexity and artistic originality. But we weren't sure Robert (who none of us have ever seen move at anything quicker than a laid-back mosey) could pull off the dance moves. The magic, however, seemed to be in audience support. Once Robert got some crowd response, he seemed to channel Miley Cyrus or at least Ricky Martin, because he started breaking out the moves and bringing the stank-dance-funk.

I would try to describe it in more detail, but instead, I figured I'd just post the video. You can enjoy it below (or use this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rF9OfEMZ0JY).

On a side note: We recently cut our first ever studio recording. It still needs quite a bit of work, but because we've gotten a huge response from those who have heard it (mostly our parents), we've decided to release the "Demo" version for free download! It's coming soon, so stay tuned!

Across the Alley from the Alamo (and like, 4 miles up I-10)

Last Tuesday I was prepping for band practice (doing Crunches - Nestle, of course - and icing down a few PBR’s) when I got a frantic phone call from a buddy in San Antonio. He does booking for several places and said he was in a bind. The three-band lineup slated to play Saturday night at Hot Tin Roof (a well-known sports bar/live music venue off of I-10 with a fancy flashing neon sign and everything) had fallen through. They needed a band that met the following criteria:

1) Willing to play for 3 ½ hours

2) Available Saturday night

3) Having a Pulse

I knew instantly that we were that band. When the boys arrived for band practice, I pitched the idea, and we all agreed that this would be a perfect opportunity to take the band to “the next level.” Of course, “the next level” is an out of town gig in a major metropolitan area. Sure, we’ve played in Eastland. We’ve played in Clyde. Sure, we’ve played at my brother-in-law’s birthday party in his backyard. But this was different.

We loaded up on Saturday and hit the road. When we arrived, we found a pretty sizable crowd (maybe 100 people or so). We set up our gear and the sound man helped position our amps and mics onstage. He then mentioned that he had been double booked and needed to run down the street to another bar and get a different band setup… Not to worry though…. He would be right back.

We settled in and had a drink. After about an hour and a half, the crowd began to dwindle. Brian made friends with a guy at the bar and convinced him that we were actually the backing band for Lady Gaga, and that she would be arriving shortly – encased inside of a giant piñata; dangled by a cable through the skylight in the roof by a helicopter and smashed by her blindfolded backup dancers as part of a grand entrance. Brian will say anything to keep the people at the bar until we start playing… but the guy left (he either wasn’t a fan of LG, or just wasn’t very gullible).

Turns out, there were some technical difficulties down the road at the other bar. By the time the sound technician could get back, it had been almost 2 hours and the entire crowd had disappeared. At one point during our extended wait, we had considered picking up our instruments and roaming around from table to table - Mariachi-Style – but the jukebox was too loud and we knew there was no way we could sync up our sound to match perfectly with Ronnie Millsap.

By the time we got started, it was almost midnight. There was a pretty slow start to our set – there was a fairly small amount of cursing and insults directed our way and a few lightweight objects thrown at us… nothing major. But as the night went on, people continued to trickle in and our popularity grew. Apparently, there is a late crowd at the Hot Tin Roof. By the time we hit our stride, there were about 35 people in the place and we had become the most popular people in the bar (helped, I’m sure by the fact that we had microphones and a public address system and could not be easily ignored).

During our break, Robert and Brian buddied-up with a couple from S.A. who bought them tequila shots. Meanwhile, I convinced a group of newcomers to stay by promising to attempt to blend together Outkast’s “Mrs. Jackson” and Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get it On” during our next set.

By 2 AM, we wrapped up our last set and to our surprise… the crowd demanded an encore. I would love to say that this is pretty commonplace at our shows, but the truth is, it was our first encore ever... Or at least it was the first one that was not our idea, and forced on the people by us. We also sold quite a few T-shirts, made a bunch of new friends, and found a great new place to play. All in all, we had a great time and will definitely be returning to HTR soon!

We filmed our trip down to San Antonio and mixed in some of the road trip footage with footage from the gig.Here's the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0K6r1ijR8x8

How Brian Got His Dojo Back... or... Brianzai!

Monday, January 10, 2011

Somebody recently asked me the following question:

"If you could wake up in somebody else's body, whose would you want it to be?"

I don't like to over-think things, but I had a few questions of my own. First of all, what sort of question is that? Why would you want to wake up in another person's body, and why are you asking me, weirdo? Secondly, would I have to accommodate all of their internal organs, or would their body just be some sort of jumpsuit? And finally, what if I already did and the answer is Me?

I posed these questions to Brian at a recent practice session and he went all Mr. Miyagi on me and began to speak only in metaphors. He then revealed to me a gruesome blister he had been cultivating on his index finger. It was a type of blister with which I was unfamiliar. It sort of looked like a regular blister, except that it was bright red - almost fuchsia (if that's a color). Basically, it looked super-painful and a little creepy, if I'm honest. I asked him if it had something to do with his new ipod app - Cow Toss. He simply said, "It did not, Daniel-san"

(which he knows good and well I no longer prefer to be called). He told me that it was from

slapping the bass with so much gusto. He also told me that he had developed the blister by the second song of our practice. We ended up playing about 20, so I figured he was about 3 hours into the blister and he hadn't said "boo."

Brian said that the blister pretty much answered my questions about waking up in somebody else's body. For the record, I did not completely concur. But in any case, I acted like it made perfect sense, mainly because I didn't want him "painting the fence" on me.

I'm not sure if Brian was trying to say that he wanted to wake up in the body of someone with a healthy finger, or if he was just bragging about what we can all agree is a pretty awesome injury. Either way though, I learned that Brian has some serious dedication to continue to play with something so revolting growing under his skin.

We put him on vasaline-lined glove-rest because we have a truly major gig coming up on Thursday. We're playing at the world famous Momo's in Austin, along with several other bands. If you've never been to Momo's, you definitely want to be there. And even if Brian's finger is not completely healed up by then, you can be sure he'll play through the pain and fight for our honor.

Bloggin On It

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Lately I've been working on my bloggin' abilities. I've got to say, I'm starting to really enjoy writing blogs and such. It's caused me to get real introspective and what not. I’ve always been a super-sensitive guy - just ask the ladies… But until now I’ve been afraid to really share my thoughts and feelings. I decided the time was now. Or “is” now. But to be clear, it happened in the past. I’m totally over the whole self-reflective phase.

I started by writing some new songs with the band. At first, the rest of the guys weren’t open to the subject matter I wanted to tackle. They seemed to think that a song about my phobia of any food that has bones in it would never sell. They also said my slow jam about the childhood removal of a large, impacted chunk of earwax was not “marketable” and lacked “widespread appeal.” But then, as I was tweaking the last verse of my song about how I accidentally got busted listening to a LaBouche CD in college, the band began to open up about their own issues.

Well, needless to say, we all ended up in a counseling session/teambuilding workshop. Our new band therapist is costing us $250 a week and on top of that, Brian gave himself a concussion trying to pull off a really flamboyant trust-fall.

So that’s where all this bloggin’ has gotten us. Maybe I’ll just keep my self-exploration to myself from now on – or maybe just between myself and the blogosphere.