Saturday, February 24, 2007

Poor Spanish Musician

I hope you are all right, sir. He talked to me on the tube on the way home last night and was poking his head out the door to look at the train indicator and it bashed him as it shut on his head. Ouch!
Such a nice evening yesterday. Spinmaster Plantpot popped by to say hello; it was good to be at the 12 Bar again, as I haven't played there for over a year. But Andy is really friendly. Paul the Girl came down and I have been wanting to talk to her for a long time. Dan came down to say goodbye to his friends before he moves away.
Funny- for the first song I was quite nervous- I think it's because I automatically harked back to the last time I'd played there, I'd done so few gigs back then. But then I saw the light reflecting off the sound-guy's cheeks in his booth, and he was smiling, and he remembered me and my stuff, and I felt fine, and really enjoyed it; my fingers went in the right places and so did my voice, I felt very comfortable, even though I did my new song and it's not as good as I thought it was. At least I got it out of my system. And, true to form, when I got up (it was a sitsy-downsy gig) the stool had sunk into the sticky black tar on the stage (what the heck is it?) and I had to yank it up to get my lead out from under it.
And what can I say about Martin? He is just absolutely the best live performer I've ever seen. I was watching his fingers to try to steal some of his licks but he plays so bloody fast. And there's at least one invisible finger there I'm sure, because sounds happen and you can't see where they come from, no matter how hard you watch. He practically dances while he plays. And he could melt the ice at the North Pole with the warmth of his personality. I wonder if he is the cause of global warming?


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