All Aboard

Welcome aboard Space Rock Air...please review the safety information next to your complimentary copy of Hit Parader. Be advised that your laptop can be used as a floatation device and your cellphone doubles as a paddle. Of course these will be of no use to you once we crash into the volcano.

So let me introduce to you…the band you’ve loved for all these years (but didn’t know it):

On Keys, Ukelele and a $200 eighties organ that sounds like a cross between a B-3 and whatever they used to play the original theme to Super Mario Bros on:

Lady Mirian (aka Kimberly Chee aka Red Viper aka The Hammer)!:?;

She’s the one who turns a funky groove into a chilling ride on the Wall of Death. She will amaze and rock you with Lolly, the mystical UKE! She will inspire wonder and madness in all who fall under her devilish spell…

(so step right this way and you will see a bein’ of a Korean with the spice that’s twice as nice.)

Moe hae?

BUT WAIT! ORDER WITHIN THE NEXT 15 MINUTES AND RECEIVE THESE ADDITIONAL ITEMS: 

On drums and a mad vision of his and our own eternal destiny, the keeper of the universal groove that gets our world a-spinnin’, MISTER JOAQUIN THE MACHINE! A powerhouse of pathos he is…probably the best drummer this side of Witch Mountain. Take a bow or give a finger. The choice is yours my friend.

On Bass…ladies and gentlemen they call him the Burglar but FEAR NOT! One feel of the foundation he’s laying down and you’ll give it all away anyway. Yes he’s the hi-end in low-end, the bass with space, the man to keep the blood going and the pirates rowing, Mr. SLADE.

End intro. Turn tape over…

And now a story to understand our former glory:

aka: where I met the band…

By Billy, age eleven

I met the Burglar when I signed on for a reggae* band that became The Missing Channel. Yes…that Missing Channel.

I had been looking for a way to cut loose and ward off the psychotic whispers screaming in my head.

 So I answered a Craigslist posting looking for a lead guitarist.

(basically for the past decade, the entire course of my life has been dictated by Craigslist. Sounds like some kinda voodoo if you ask me.)

*the reggae thing was intimidating since I assumed (correctly) that it was tied into a set of deeply held spiritual beliefs. The last thing I wanted was to tread on holy ground if I was not a true believer. As you can see I'm the superstitious type and somehow the fact that I was dread-less and naive to the ways of the Rasta meant to me the GODS were going to send me to a smoldering hell reserved for poseurs and Rasta wannabes and BASICALLY KICK MY CAUCASOID ASS.

Little did I know all it took was a delay pedal and some recreational stimulants to convince me that I TOO was the second coming of JAH.

Trust me I wasn’t the first.

After I battled these insecure demons within I realized this band was a just a bunch of nice guys that wanted to play some good music. 

Strangely I had rarely encountered this phenomenon in my musical journeys.

Why are there so many songs about rainbows?

In a short time I had a rough overview of the style and learned some great tunes. I also learned that Bob Marley had other songs besides No Woman No Cry and Jammin’. 

Soon we expanded our influences both musical and otherwise. I played our first gig in a chicken suit. I learned how to play Punky Reggae Party. I snorted a line of coke off  a Jamaican diplomat’s ass. One of those is an exaggeration. 

Some good times were had and gradually we found ourselves going in different places. Such is the nature of bandom. 

The Missing Channel personnel, for those who are taking notes, was Slade on bass, the legendary Mikey J (Beaver) on spacey guitar and John B. on drums and vocal on the classic Don't Sniff Coke. T-shirts are available in the lobby.

After “MC” Slade told me about this fella named Joaquin, who had a hankering for skins, Martinellis and wild wild women. He had wandered in and outta various parts and knew the layout of many lands. His skills as a navigator were legendary and that legend had it he learned it all in a school for learnin’ up yonder in Loredo.

He also enjoyed romantic comedies and was comfortable with this.

During this time, even though we were mostly just jamming we started finding “common grooves” (coincidently the title of my bi-daily newsletter).

Joaquin and Slade have great communication with each other. This is key for any rhythm section.

With them it’s their own language really–a variant of some rhythmic dialect that only makes sense to Zulu warriors and air traffic controllers. Possibly some CB slang in there but I can’t be sure. During their exchanges I find time to stare at my fret board and plan out my next solo. “Win–win” I suppose.

Slade speaks both Drum and Guitar. Some say he can even speak tuba but that is yet to be seen.

It was within the musty bowels of room nine, in a practice space near the edge of town that the raw goo of our latest project began to simmer. Songs began to take shape as well.

Slade had some “exercises” he had written that he assured us had no melodic value. Sigh. We can’t all have the vision. Anyway what he had were “song skeletons”.

For more on song skeletons order my ebook. Kidding.

During this time I had a bit of a meltdown and moved to the city. Yes I abandoned my post.

But perhaps it was what I had to do. Fate can be a bitch…

Actually quite literally…for the next year and a half I was working with canines.

But Back to the Future:

Mirian hopped on the fun wagon bout the time I got to Felton.

She is my Yoko.

The only difference being that Mirian has actual musical talent.

All you need to know is that we are now ONE.

We are even in talks with a Doctor in Bombay to surgically conjoin us so we can share a heart.

His qualifications are the best money can buy.

Back to square three:

As we all evolve (the band I mean) we are finding the right balance to take this somewhere we all want to go (but I guess that sentiment could be applied to the current global crisis we are all experiencing and the oneness of all reality). Cue gong.

Still finding myself in uncharted territory. I bless the band for their patience and direction.

Well I have work to do and sprits to commune with. I'll try not to lose my mind completely this week...it's so much better to save that madness for the stage.

Namaste chilluns.