Our performance at The Living Room went ok, I gues…
Our performance at The Living Room went ok, I guess. I was in a bad mood and couldn’t get into the spirit of things like I usually do. The awful ventilation in the performance space didn’t help, either. Corbett’s trying to expand, having just hired a couple of assistant managers who seemed to take their duties very seriously, but we were definitely not used to the new management methods they were employing.
Sunday night we played at the venerable Blue Note on Roosevelt and Shi-da Road. The space was tiny, and the stage was apparently set up for a single or duo set, with a baby grand hogging most of the space. In the end we all got up on stage, but nobody was facing anyone else, so eye-contact was difficult, and some of us were set up right next to a speakers. I was feeling a bit better than the night before, so I kind of got into the performance, but I can’t speak for everyone. Water3 played after us, and did their songs as they usually do. They’re tight, they don’t deviate from the scripts, whereas the MBRs don’t really even have a script.
As I was enjoying Shengxiang’s music (I like “More Despicable” and “Job” best), a short woman sat down at my table and asked me for my autograph. This caught me a little off guard, and I admit I felt more than a little suspicious. Nonetheless I signed a paper for her, and she asked me if I was going to stay in Taiwan long. I said yeah, I probably would.
“Why do I feel I can’t believe you?” she replied. Immediately a plethora of snarky come-backs flooded into my head, but I’ve been trying to control those particular demons, so I chose the most eloquent answer I could think of without resorting to cruel wit:
“I don’t know,” I said. That subject exhausted, I turned back to the band, and she went off to get more autographs.
After Water3 was done, the club owner, a short, stocky older Taiwanese guy and former fellow trumpeter himself, put on some jazz videos. Most of the people left, but Sandman and I were planning on staying until the last MRT train was at the station. Fortunately for us, two things happened. The first was Jojo showing up and telling us she could drive us home. The second thing was the arrival of a Japanese jazz trio. They were all named after electronic devices, i.e. “Mr. Casio”, etc., and man, did they rock. The sax player blew everyone away, as did the drummer. The sax player would break out a flute occasionally as well. Very, very nice.
I know, it seems like this journal has become a music journal, with all the Ramblin-related content lately. There are a couple of reasons for this. Mainly, we’re busy doing the ‘tour’ with Sheng Xiang and Water3. Our last performance together is at The Wall on the 18th of July. After that Sheng Xiang and the gang will be embarking on their international tour. David, Will and I met with Carmen, a reporter from the China Post yesterday at the Subway on Roosevelt near the Hsinhai intersection. He’s doing a story on us, so that might translate into some gigs in the future, and our sound is admittedly getting tighter and more focused. Still, I think everyone will be ready to take some time off after the tour.
Another reason for the music stuff all being here I don’t have the kind of time at work that I used to have at Ogilvy or at ITRI, so I don’t have the opportunity to slag my co-workers like I did before. I’ve also shunted all my my movie-related content over to the production blog, and some other content to my anonymous blog, which contains stuff I wish I could write about here, but I can’t because people actually read it, and there some things about me that you really don’t need to know.
Or maybe there aren’t, and I’m just trying to create a false sense of mystery. Ya never know, do ya?
