Dream Journal: the Jonsi Daisy Chain

Last night I dreamed I went to a Jonsi concert with my friend Tristan Shutt.  It was a typical venue but something seemed a little "off". The first thing we saw that was out of the ordinary was the seating. Very organized rows of office chairs directly in front of the stage instead of the floor area crowded with the hardcore fans (where we would have been). Tristan sought out and found a choice seat on the end of a row very close to the stage. So close that I worried the volume of the music would make my ears ring for the next month. Then I thought, not for the first time, "well, it's a Jonsi show and will be worth it".

The stage was fairly large, lined with lights that stretched all the way round. When they slowly came up, accompanied by the "overture" music, a long line of leprechauns hopped, skipped and ran from left to right in front of us. Small leprechauns, much smaller than midgets. Obviously part of the show, or so we figured because next thing you know there are "normal sized" people following them, trotting merrily, laughing. The line just kept on going round and then we realized that the leprechauns had been joined by people in the audience, who would randomly jump up and join the chain.

I turned to Tristan to see if he had caught on. Of course he had and to my surprise he jumped up himself and joined the fray.

So I'm sitting there, seeing all this craziness unfold around me, the whole place just filled with laughter and childish fun. I'm not the only one still sitting but the number of abstainers was dwindling. I thought, "that looks like so much fun, but I can't do that. It's just not 'me'. I'd look like a fool." So I watched, amused.

Then I had that thought again..."well, it's a Jonsi show. It will be worth it." And "worth what? The embarrassment  Everyone else is doing it, who is there to be embarrassed for?" It was with a great degree of surprise when I found myself actually considering doing it. But I held back and stood my ground.

For about thirty seconds...

I couldn't help it. It was actually like pushing down a wall to get to the other side, still convinced that I was doing the wrong thing, maybe that I'd regret it. But all these people were hopping and skipping...Tristan was out there with them...I basically said "what the hell", got up and started running in the circle, leaning to the left like I was taking a sharp turn on a Harley.

I laughed like a fool. Like a madman! So much so that I was seriously hoping noone would think I actually was crazy. I laughed so hard that I cried in the mix. I don't think I've laughed so hard since listening to a Richard Pryor record when I was in high school. Or maybe in an elevated situation with a close circle of friends back in the early 90s. No, running around those ordered office chairs in the theater was the most fun thing I'd ever done, I'd never laughed so hard in my life.

I was still whooping it up in the dream when I woke up. Sometimes when I'm really frightened at the end of a dream I will make grunting/groaning noises before I wake up. After this dream I was sure I'd come out laughing. But as it turned out I didn't make a sound (according to the reliable testimony of my wife). I was quite surprised I didn't because, as I've said, my inhibitions, fortified as they are, were shed like dirty clothes at the end of the day.

The crazy thing is that Jonsi never took the stage in my dream. If that daisy chain had lasted a couple hours I would not have even cared (much as I love Jonsi). Then again I don't think I could have lasted even another hour doing that crazy locomotion before fatally busting a gut.

What does it mean? What would Carl Jung say? Maybe Sigmund Freud could cast some illumination on what surely must been a revelation directly from the deepest well of my subconscious? Or is it something much simpler than that? Something that even someone who doesn't know me could figure out and explain based on nothing more than what I've written here? Then again there is always the probability that it means absolutely nothing. Just a great, fun dream, a treat from the psyche, unused to such frolics.

Of course the last explanation is the logical one. No one likes to realize he's a fuddy duddy who may not even know how to have fun anymore. This dream practically screams "THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO!!!" but I'll ignore it and just "stay in my seat". Like my butt is glued to it. Like my shoes are nailed to the floor and I can't reach them because my back is super-glued to the chair as well. I've been in this unenviable position for so long that I have no idea who put me there or why, only that time has convinced me that I'll never break free, never melt the glue or pry the nails from the ground. And that, my friends, is depression. So a dream like this is not so much a reminder of "what could be" (it never could) as it is "what once was", even if that was long, long ago as a little child playing "ring around the rosey" and whirling around in a daisy chain.

Then of course it could just be symbolic of the joy we'll enter into once we give up our bodies, tied to this paradigm/reality/experience as we all are. If such is the case, all I can say is that all the pain and suffering we've been burdened with in our lifetimes will have been worth it all. If this freedom from inhibition is the normal state of mind in "Heaven" indeed we have much to look forward to and nothing to fear in death.

That's the "dream interpretation" I'd prefer. But it's the "fuddy-duddy" one I'm tempted to believe.

New Spotify Playlists

Just added a few playlists to my Spotify Playlist page. If you've got Spotify you will most likely enjoy them and all the others I have posted there as well. If you don't have Spotify yet I urge you to download it. It's truly the greatest thing to happen for music and fans since the advent of the compact disc. $10 a month is a bargain for the Premium version but as of this writing you can get a free version that is ad-supported.

ORINTHIO SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS

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Sigur Ros: "Ekki Mukk" (a video by me)

"Ekki Mukk" is my favorite song from Sigur Ros' "Valtari" album. I put together this little film as an accompaniment. It's amateurism shows at times but there a few parts that I'm actually quite proud of.

A letter never sent...

I wrote this for my son, who was understandably pissed off because his high school marching band was told to cut their show short at last night's game. I suppose the all the halftime performances were running a bit over schedule, but still there was no excuse not to push back the third quarter a couple of minutes so the band could finish. Especially when he had a spotlight solo during the last song. One that he'd worked very hard on and had worked to perfection. He doesn't handle this kind of disappointment well so I wanted to share something that would maybe place it into a perspective that would offer some solace. I'd originally intended to send it via facebook...he certainly did not want to talk about it last night. But then I changed my mind for some reason. I'm not even sure I know why. But the message I wrote was still valid...maybe he'll see it here someday, though I wouldn't bet on it. I doubt he visits this blog at all. So what the hell, eh? I'll share it anyway for it's nostalgia value.


I understand how disappointed you must have been last night when they called the band off the field before you got to play the solo in "Beth". You worked on that long and hard. You had it down. There's no question it would have been very impressive. The solo you played in "Oye Como Va" was as good as I've heard you play, but the fact of the matter is that you should have gotten the opportunity to do both. It was part of the program that won the superior ratings, very likely played a substantial role in getting such high marks. It was wrong and even stupid to cut the show short. If I had known who was responsible I would have given them a piece of my mind. The football team this year are a huge disappointment while the band has excelled, it only seems logical that you would have been given some kind of priority. Moreover, there were still a couple of minutes left in the half which was plenty of time for the song. 

But what's done is done. One day, when at a class reunion or something, when talk turns to the less than positive aspects of being a senior in this silly small town, you'll have a story to tell about how Prague High School screwed you. :)

The whole fiasco reminded me of something that happened to me, though not related to school. It might take a lot of words to relate it but I'll go ahead in hopes that even if you don't choose to read it now, perhaps one day you will.

I'll start it at the point where I was playing with a band called Big Sleep. By the time I'd joined them they had already built up a fairly large fan base. The sets they played were divided almost equally between cover songs and originals. The covers were a mix of popular underground songs and much more obscure fare which they hoped would "turn people on" to different kinds of music and new bands. Their own songs were very, very good. Musically they were inventive while remaining accessible. The lyrics were much, much deeper than practically anything I'd ever heard with subjects that were rarely heard in any genre of music at the time. Song titles like "Yahweh Observed", "Held Under Water", "Pyre", "Cage Hotel", "Sympathy Trap"...

Needless to say I was thrilled when asked to join the group as bassist (which allowed the original bassist to move to rhythm guitar to replace a guitarist they'd just fired...justifiably, I might add). I did little else during the following two weeks but learn the parts to all of their material. It wasn't hard because, as I said, it was all really very good. It's easy to pick up on stuff like that when you're enjoying it. By the time we played the first show with me on board I had those songs down even better than the original bassist who wrote them (though my nerves were a little jittery and I tended to play a little too fast during the first couple of shows...I could just as well blame that on the drummer but I am...or was...a very strong and "persuasive" player, so he likely got caught up in what I was doing).

If there was any doubts about how well the band would go over with the new line-up they were dispelled immediately following the first couple of shows. Which was a relief because the guitarist who had been axed was very popular and his lead solos were a big part of the group's overall sound. And so we did well getting gigs to play. 

About three and a half months into the whole thing it became very apparent that our rhythm player was not happy playing guitar and wanted to move back to the bass. By this time we were already in the very early stages of planning and putting together a record, so I was pretty excited. But I knew that my days were numbered because there was no way the other guy wasn't going to play bass on it. First of all he was a much better bassist than a guitarist. Secondly he had a huge ego and there's no way he would have let himself be relegated to what is not exactly an "essential" instrument (at least it had not proven to be in the songs we had been writing and performing). And then to top it all off, the obvious...a member of a 4 piece band is logically going to get paid more as part of a quartet than a quintet. Assuming all members get an equal share, which we did.  

As much as it tore me up, I was not willing to be flat out dismissed. That was in the cards and I knew it, but I couldn't stomach being called to a band meeting and getting the news like that. So I decided to call a band meeting of my own. We gathered together in the place we rehearsed and I pretty much told them that my mental health was on the downswing again and for that reason I thought it best if I quit the group. It was a very, very hard thing to do. I loved playing in Big Sleep. I knew we were good enough to actually be successful, to play a lot more and at many different places across the country. 

So I left the band, greatly disappointed. Not nearly as disappointed as I had been about other things in the past, but this was definitely at the top of the list. They went on to record the record in Dallas with a producer who was well known for working with top acts. And they continued to play steadily. I was there for many of those performances. Sometimes they would ask me to come onstage to sing a song and I would always oblige, but it just made me miss it all the more. They invited me to come put some vocal tracks on the demos for the second album they were working on, which I did. All were pleased with the results. It was funny, when they asked me to do that I was playing with a crappy band out of Glenpool named "The Drop". We only did one show and it was at that performance that the Big Sleep guys came to ask me to help with the demo. Later I was told that the singer had said, in reference to "The Drop", "...JAC has more talent in his little finger than those other guys have in their whole bodies combined". That was cool! I always did like the singer...he had seemed to be the one most disappointed by my leaving the band. 

Anyways...I guess it was a year after I left when the singer decided he wanted to leave the group to concentrate on his full time career of being a high school football coach (I know...I know). So they did a huge "farewell show" and broke up. Indefinately for all intents and purposes. At least that's what we thought.

Okay, a little background is required here. One of the bigger alternative bands of the mid-late 80s was a group named The Call. They had a big hit with a song called "The Walls Came Down". Another track, "I Still Believe" was on it's way to topping the last one when at some point, and for some reason I don't know, their lead singer/songwriter was at a Big Sleep show and was very impressed. So much so that he asked the BS songwriter to work up some lyrics for a project he had begun. He'd also told them that he wanted them to open for The Call next time they came through Oklahoma.

Unfortunately they never did come through Oklahoma while the band was still together. BUT...a few months after Big Sleep HAD broken up their manager gets a call from their management...they're going to be playing in Tulsa and Norman for two consecutive nights and can we open? Well, this was quite an opportunity...for what, I don't know, but it just didn't seem right to tell him that Big Sleep was no more. So the manager doesn't tell him. Says he'll talk to the guys and get back with them.

When this situation was presented to the members of Big Sleep there were mixed reactions. All of them wanted to do it, but each had their own expectations and qualms. A couple thought of this as an opportunity for the band to re-group and get back to playing and writing. Short of this at least it was a chance to play with The Call in front of what promised to be a huge audience. Three of the four were very eager to at least do this...but then you had the coach/singer. He was happy where he was, with what he was doing. It was what he'd wanted to do his whole life so no one could fault him for placing career above band. He seemed tentative, to say the least.

Eventually he made a decision. He would play the show under one condition. That I be brought back into the band, playing acoustic guitar and singing background vocals. I was obviously very happy to do it, though it was unclear if he fell into the camp of wanting to "permanently re-group" or just do the one show. We rehearsed a couple of times with this line up, the last time being a week before the show. I'd figured out acoustic guitar parts to go with the music, which was kind of difficult because the newer songs they'd written were really heavy, not the kind of sound you'd expect to hear an acoustic guitar in. But not only did I figure out the parts, I wrote a whole new song to present. I thought it sounded very good, and so did everyone else except the bass player (which was as to be expected, but also because he was dead against me coming back in, even though he would be able to keep playing bass).

So, here's what I've got going for me at this time. I'm once again playing with what is definitely one of the best bands I've ever played with. I've just written a very good new song that is worked up to the point where we were ready to play it at the next show. And to top it all off, we were opening for The Call, who weren't only the biggest act we'd played for but we actually had enjoyed their music before all of this (even had some of their records). One week before the shows and I'm already too excited to sleep.

And then...

The Friday night show is at Cain's Ballroom in Tulsa. Great place to play. It would be our first gig there. We had all our gear packed and loaded. We set out from Seminole to Tulsa, psyched as you can imagine. About 20 miles from Tulsa we hear on the radio, "The Call show at Cain's Ballroom has been cancelled due to the singer being ill". Our hearts sank. Not only did it mean that the Tulsa show was history, if the singer was really sick there was a good chance the next show in Norman would be called off as well. We drove on in to the City hoping to catch the singer in their hotel to at least find out about that. Their management assured us that the show on the following night would go on. The logical inference being that ticket sales were slack at the Cain's so they blew it off. 

So that was the first big disappointment of the weekend. Surely things would get better. They didn't...

The next night we show up, sans singer, who we assumed was riding with someone else. The venue was a place called Rome and it's pretty big. I've played there a few times. The first thing we notice is that all the gear is sitting on the side of the stage in a section that was roughly one quarter it's size. It's not just sitting there, it's arranged there, as if it were going to be sort of a mini-stage. Which it unfortunately turned out to be, and it was where we were expected to perform. I mean it was a pitiful affair, all of us were going to have to be all bunched up, crowded against each other. It it weren't for the fact that we were playing with The Call I'm sure we would have loaded out and said "to hell with this". But it WAS the Call.

We were also pissed off because a band called The Nixons were going to play first on what was turning out to be a three band bill. This was not how we were told it was going to happen. It was pretty obvious what was going on, though. The guy who owned the club was also the manager of The Nixons and he knew that the huge crown The Call would draw would be priceless exposure for his band. We couldn't hold it against them, because we were acquaintances and had some mutual respect for each other. It was on the manager, who had been nothing but a piece of crap since we'd met him years before. The Nixons were going to play on the floor, which doesn't sound all that great unless you saw the chincy little "stage" we were supposed to play on. 

Next set-back...and this was a BIG one. It was time to go on...but our singer was nowhere to be found. Nowhere! We were in a pinch like you wouldn't believe. What to do? We couldn't just call it off. What they did...

...was put an electric guitar in my hand and tell me to go out there and play/sing all of the songs. I didn't even know all of the lyrics. There's a huge difference between playing electric and acoustic guitar, so I had no grasp of the style the singer used. I could only turn it up and hope the distortion would hide my inadequacies. Moreover, I am certainly not the singer that he was. He had a voice that was immediately recognizable. He also had a higher range than me. I was stuck. I had to do it, and I did it, but it was touch-and-go. I took some comfort in the fact that at least my song, which I had been singing (not the regular singer), was in my range. It was positioned at number seven in a nine song set...

...but then, at the conclusion of song number six we get the signal from management that things are off schedule a bit and we could only play one more song. It kept getting worse. But maybe it would be worth it just to play my song there, with such a large audience, with Big Sleep (or at least 3/4s of them)...

...it may HAVE been worth it, but I'll never know. For some God-forsaken reason the bass player insisted that we play "song number 9". After all, it was the song we were originally going to end with, right? Yeah, that's understandable, I'd almost be willing to agree and do it...had it not been for the fact that I felt like I was owed at least SOMETHING for stepping up and salvaging at least all I could from this dismal affair. I'd gauged the audience and felt certain that my song was better suited to their tastes, as demonstrated by reactions to our other songs, and would therefore be the best choice. I didn't get my way. We ended our part of the show with "song number 9", which got a much less enthusiastic response than had it been "song number 7".

We left "the stage" and what was probably the worst, most screwed up set of circumstances I've ever experienced in my days as a musician. I walk over to the table we had reserved and who do you think was there?

The singer. They said he'd been there for a while. I will never know why he did that. I'm sure it wasn't because he wanted to put me on the spot or anything sinister. He raved about how "good" I was...he probably even thought I was, because he really did have a lot of respect for me. As upset and disappointed as I was, for some reason I just could not hold it against him. 

It was the final nail in the coffin of Big Sleep. The re-grouping with me on acoustic guitar never materialized. The show we'd been so anxious to play, waited so long for, had been disastrous  I don't think anybody even WANTED to put it all back together again. Disappointment on such a large scale drove us all apart. All there is now are a lot of memories of the fun times we had. Tales of road trips gone awry, of camaraderie  of rehearsals that birthed new songs, of fans and people who showed up to every show without fail, of compliments from other musicians, of going to our peers shows and being called out to from the stage, of getting the opportunity to play our music to hundreds of people while other musicians struggled to even book a show, of inside jokes and nicknames, of every unique and awesome thing about being in a band and playing the music you love...

...and then there's the one story that's my favorite to tell. The tale of how everything went straight to hell the weekend we opened for The Call.