Th' Soulfinger Diaries: The Gristmill, Killington VT, 1.13.06

Woaaah. It's exactly like that fucking Bing Cosby movie. A veritable polesmoking winter hinterland.

Soulfinger decamps for the weekend at a club at th' ski area. Accomodations are austere but warm; a postage-stamp sized two-room suite for 5 guys and a palatial slopeside penthouse for chanteuse Jackie Halliday. Guitarist Tito Corleone makes the two-hour drive up and back for every gig rather than have to in any way be privy to what is about to occur.

First night's good, man. The place is fairly hopping, if not packed. There's something about it being a family weekend because they have a show with those christing budweiser whatchamacallit horses. I'm still struggling to get back in full voice. I'm starting to hit that teflon-coated-good-to-go thing where you sacrifice your top half-octave and your bottom half-octave but you always have a voice for the show every night. For three or four hours. I'm a little unsatisfied with that because I like my head voice octave-above-middle-c stuff and I have to figure out how to get it back.

I did a preamble before "Let's Stay Together" about economical, masterful, understated singers who realize in maturity that they can do much more with less. I mentioned the unfortunate trends in singing, the histrionic Amphibian Idol crap with the oversinging and the endless cheesy melismas. And how I aspired to one day be more like Billie Holliday or Satchmo or Willy Nelson, just telling a story.

Then I took that gentle Al Green lilt and lit it on fire and stomped it around the stage for 5 minutes. I sang ALL the goddamn notes. Fuck, man- I know what they god damn want. Willy Nelson and Satchmo et al had a throng of enraptured people sitting at their feet when they opened their mouths. I have to compete with T.V. and alcohol and hookings-up.

Another standout was the nothing-to-sneeze-at "Hold On I'm Coming". I'd just as soon start posting shit when I'm back in monster voice but fuck it. It's "real". Listen mostly for the restrained mastery of Tito's rhythm guitar.


Blogger The Viscount LaCarte said...

You rock Albino Red!

8:38 PM  

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