Th' Soulfinger Diaries: Rookies, Hartford CT. 12.30.05

Yeah, this was interesting. Tell you why. We know that Lula's phasing out. This was one of her last shows and we brought in a potential replacement for her on this show so it was all three of us up front. This new woman is fantastic. Dynamic performer, great, tough singer, great team player. We'll call her, oh, we'll call her Beulah Halliday. No, that sounds too fat. Jackie. Jackie Halliday. That's got a ring. Jackie's all grown up and can play ball.

So, this place is like one of those mega sports bars. Big ass stage, couple hundred people. Meats. Dozens of meats and stupid drunk girls with stupid hair. You know the drill. Between the three of us and the gossamer vocal harmonies of the rest of the players it was like the R&B Beach Boys. Beautiful. 3rds and 5ths and 7ths everywhere, which is where I came in, because I've got th' Hard Harmony gift. I can find those tough 6ths and 11ths and 9ths and shit and make a good chorale a great one. What a treat.

Ace got a little up on those Bailey's and Courvoisiers he drinks like sodie pop but the guy's so fucking amped that it doesn't matter. Fucking guy could probably drink six bottles of Nyquil and still be like a fucking jacking laser. In fact, the next night I think he did.

We was the happy hour band and the next band was this 80's abomination called Aquanett. Looked like a bunch of fucking plumbers with hair like Europe. Scary. I couldn't get out fast enough. People love that shit. I'd rather suck razor blades than listen to that crap. In fact, the next night I think I did.

Manila Godown, who you will no doubt recall was sacked back a couple weeks for getting ratcheted and taking swings at everybody before finally faceplanting in the parking lot to the tune of five stitches, is back and in fine form. Why? Jesus, guys. Nobody with a decent daytime gig is going to do this shit. You have to have a screw loose or and honest-to-goodness deep connection to music to walk this fucking road.

Sorry, I've been redundant again.

Anyway, it was pretty. I'm doing "Crazy Love" now which is as pretty and simple a song as was ever written. Also up and operational this evening was my new percussion rig which is three little pads and a D-4 drum module. Pretty cool. Tiny footprint.

Guitarist Tito Corleone (tee hee) is fucking amazing. The skill. I can't believe he hasn't been all over the place. Oh, wait- he's crazy. I forgot. He told a story about taking 400 hits of blotter acid in 1979.

I believe him.

Guys have taken to introducing me as "Albino Red". There's some chitlin' circuit story about this black jazz band who had a white horn player or somethin' and they were getting static for having a white guy so they started saying he was a black albino. "Albino Red". It's funny.

I am Bobby Lightfoot, though. If I have to fight then I'll fight. I don't fucking care. Do I seem like the kind of guy who gives a fuck if there has to be a green room dustup or two and a couple less molars to get my Christian name on the god damn marquee?

"Albino Red" is sort of funny though. And flattering in a crazy way. And it's Soulfinger so everything is something in a crazy way.