We had to be out of the band house by 12:30 p.m., and since our next gig was only a couple of
hours away in Angola, IN, Terry just decided to go back to the Motel 6 we had been before--next
to a big Hostess-Wonder Bread bakery. I had an urgent need to send Dede rent money 2nd Day
Air, so that was added to the interim itinerary, along with Jesse's need to buy a pair of travel jeans
to replace his denim shorts, which were getting a tad chilly at night. Gas was 99 cents at the Big
K-Mart down the street, so that was our first destination, followed shortly with the main
Indianapolis post office, just down the street from the Noodle. I had to stand in line for about a
half hour, watching the anthrax reports on CNN from a suspended TV for all the post office
customers to contemplate. Ugh. When I got to the clerk, she spotted my envelope with a return
address the same as the mailing address. "They won't let this on the plane addressed like this," the
clerk said sternly. I explained I was on the road and didn't have a return address. She then
checked with her supervisor, and the verdict came down that I must have a different return
address than mailing address. I said, a bit impatiently, "Well, then, what's the address here?" The
clerk hadn't thought of that, and hesitated a moment before giving it to me. I chalked it up to
increased PO security amidst all the rest of the low-level state of martial law we all are going
through right now.
Our plan was to go see Curtis at the Noodle tonight, which I was really looking forward to. I wasn't sure who was touring with him, and his posters plastered all over the Noodle touted such luminaries as Jimmie Vaughan and Lou Ann Barton. We figured out those guys were on his album, and were probably not touring with him, especially if they were having to tolerate a low-dough situation, too.
We all had laundry to do, and the Motel 6 had a guest laundry, so we all took turns. It had turned
overcast, so Jeff and I just decided to hang in the room, do laundry, and watch TV until Salgado
show time. Jesse came to the door, "Hey, man, you got a minute to talk?" I said sure. Apparently
Jesse had been chosen to lay it down to me the current beefs about my playing. This is a standard
tactic and part of band life. I actually welcome it, and told Jesse so. He said, "You gotta play
about half of what you're playin', man." This had been a minor topic of conversation before, and
by now had become a bone of contention, which I regretted. I had been self-editing what I
thought was quite a bit, but obviously it wasn't enough. I had been used to playing in power trio
situations, were the drums are very prominent and pretty damn busy. Well, in this situation, it was
not welcomed, and I knew that. But Jesse was pounding on the point. He said that minimalist
playing could be the difference between me being a really good drummer and a great drummer.
That was a sweet thing to say. Jesse has a knack for diplomacy... I told him I appreciated hearing
that. Jeff chimed in with his two cents about R&B drumming being a thankless job--simpler is
better, etc. I dug it. I voiced my own concerns about Kenny fighting me a bit on tempos, and
Jesse was all over that, saying his next stop was Kenny. The agreement now was once a tempo is
set by whoever starts the song, that is the tempo we'll all go with, rather than trying to change it
on the fly, which I always hate doing. There's pretty much a groove anywhere you put it, but
everyone has to cooperate to make that happen.
Kenny still hadn't returned from his tryst, but as soon as we started talking about him, he knocked on the door. He'd had an unsatisfying one-nighter that managed to relieve his wallet of his money more than relieving anything else. He asked the universal rhetorical question, "Why did I do that?"
Since he'd been up all night, he chose not to go with us to see the Curtis show, so we all piled into
the van around 9 p.m. and headed off to the show. The place was pretty well filled up, with more
and more people coming in by the time we got there. The band had started playing already, and I
was trying to find a good place acoustically to be able to hear everything, which turned out to be
a daunting task in itself. After going upstairs, trying each side of the stage, without being able to
sit right in the middle because those chairs were taken, I ended up standing right next to the sound
booth. It didn't sound half bad acoustically from there, although D.K. Stewart's keyboards were
nearly non-existent in the mix. I pointed that out to the sound tech, and he nodded, but nothing
changed.
I've always enjoyed hearing and watching Curtis down through the years, and it was a real charge
to see Portland guys up there. Curtis made a point of cheering Portland in civic pride, and it was
like a slice of home for me. Ben Jones was kickin' on bass, and the guitarist was from Denmark
via L.A., who'd apparently recently moved to Portland. He got the job done without showboating.
The drummer was Bruce Ferguson out of Dallas. I hadn't heard of him, and assumed Curtis ended
up with him from his Jimmie Vaughan connections. He had an excellent shuffle, although after
considering the points of Jesse and Jeff's conversation regarding my playing, I'm afraid Mr.
Ferguson would have gotten the same admonition had he been in Terry's band. Curtis ran through
a good mix of his old and new stuff, much of it I'd heard before--some of his older stuff I'd heard
via several incarnations of his bands, and it was interesting to note the differences in approach.
This band was bluesy-looser and more rough and ready than past Salgado outfits, and they rocked
real good. Highly enjoyable for me.
I had caught Ben Jones' eye when we walked in, and he looked like he was going to jump off the
stage for a second when he saw us. So on break it was good to shake hands and catch up on who
was now playing with whom in Portland. I talked to D.K. for a couple of minutes and he wanted
to make sure I had his e-mail address so I could put him on my mailing list. I wanted to say hi to
Curtis, but he was mobbed by fans and CD purchasers, so I gave it up.
I was starving, so decided to blow some money on myself, having a couple of Corona's and the excellent and generous tostada. I joined Terry, Jesse and Jeff at a table stage right, and remained there till we left. The place ended up packing out downstairs, and it looked like there was a good crowd upstairs, too, so I would call it a really good night for a Tuesday.