The Knights of the Auto Order Proudly Present: The Auto Body Estimate: Vol. II, #98, May 2010
For some rockers, a gig is a success if they wake up the next morning in someone else's bed. For me, a gig a success if I find my way home with all the gear I left with. Please forgive me if I've shared this sentiment with you before, but sometimes I forget stuff.
Anyway, a few years ago, after a very fun show at O'Gara's, I left a music stand behind. Not just any music stand, mind you, but a sturdy and handsome matte black Manhasset music stand. By the time I discovered it was missing I was out of town, so I called Becca and asked her to swing by O'Gara's to pick it up; and I was very careful to specify it was a black Manhasset.
When I called her the following day, Becca began laughing. Apparently she experienced some difficulty finding anyone at O'Gara's who knew where a music stand might be. It didn't help that she was pretty sure I had said that a black man has it.
I should have known better. Rock music has a long tradition of problems caused by poor enunciation: "Excuse me while I kiss this guy," and "Wrapped up like a douche, another roller in the night," being two high-profile examples of imprecise diction. This isn't the kind of lyric delivery problem that most often plagues the Auto Body Experience, however. Instead, I simply forget the words to my own songs.
Oddly enough, it's not the brand new lyrics that trouble me the most. Typically we'll be playing a song we've known for years when the part of my brain that should be retrieving the next lyric begins thinking about macaws. I don't know why. When this happens, Tom Twiss quickly prompts me with the correct lyric and we continue.
Since Mr. Twiss will be hemispherically-challenged and unable to join us for our Friday, May 7 Eagles Club gig we'll clearly need another solution. We explored the possibility of creating an elaborate teleprompter-like device out of some discarded computers, but eventually we ruled this out as just one more thing I'd forget.
Instead, we've decided to stretch out the instrumental aspects of our Twiss-less sets, minimizing the lyrics I have to remember, and providing guest trumpeter Dan Frankowski more opportunities to flex his considerable improvisational muscle. Thankfully, for whatever neurological reason, I can usually remember the chords.
Unlike chords, however, I find that people's names are written into the same volatile area of memory as song lyrics. My most common name-forgetting scenario occurs when I'm in a situation where it's crucial that I remember someone's name; like when introducing my wife to my new boss. I should know both those names, right? But just as I think, "Man, would I look like a thoughtless idiot if I forgot her name," all I can think of is macaws. So if you join us on May 7, and I begin to introduce our guest trumpet player, and I suddenly look a little confused, please holler; "Dan," or at least make some macaw-like sounds so I'm not startled or frightened.
Forgotten lyrics aside, our May 7 gig should be big fun, and not just because it will be our last show in town until July. We've recently discovered that our newest member, keyboardist Doug Rohde, is also a fine singer, so we'll feature him too, along with another brand new Auto Body tune and some vintage Experience songs that rely less on Mr. Twiss' singing. We're hoping the result is fresh, loose, and wild. The only thing that could make it better would be if you joined us.
Love, Scott Yoho, Grand Pooh Bah, The Knights of the Auto OrderReturn the Estimate Index...