For Those of You About to Swim…
Super Sunday Hamster Blender, a self-proclaimed studio-only group, actually left the studio (i.e., Genetik’s basement) and played their first full-band gig out (i.e., a house party). Consider it our debutante coming out party, introducing our cellar-dwelling selves to the world. Or to a small chunk of Amston and surrounding villages.
Since last September, the band recorded eighteen songs. However, they were all recorded in pieces, track by track, with each instrument being laid down separately from each other. Until just recently, the band never played any of the songs as a band.
So, with our first outing scheduled, we had to rapidly learn to play them as a band for our special gig, this outdoor affair at friend Chris and Elaine’s house. It was very nice – and brave – for Chris and Elaine to invite us. They were dutifully warned; we only play originals since we don’t do any covers (yet), and this will be like a giant practice for us. In essence, we will play music no one knows and with anticipated plentiful screw-ups. Exactly what any party-goer wants to hear.
Amazingly, they enthusiastically accepted us. More importantly, they enthusiastically fed us.
Their house and yard is its own little Paradise Lost. The built-in pool has an adorable rock-laden waterfall. There’s a tiered deck and an outdoor built-in fireplace. A luxury grill, generous coolers of beer, and an abundance of mermaids and jackalopes roamed the grounds. It was like Las Vegas, except in the midst of Connecticut’s back woods, and with ticks instead of gamblers and hookers.
There were, in fact, no tick sightings or tick injuries. Therefore, the band pronounced its uncanny ability to ward off unwanted blood-sucking pests, something everyone should keep in mind when scheduling your next event and you plan on being near a wooded area, vampires, or oil company executives.
Our premier on this brilliant day was almost cancelled. Two days prior, we blew our PA head, and both vocalists had illnesses. It wasn’t until Saturday morning, a mere seven hours before the show that we committed to continue on. We figured that sore throat phlegm could be a fair substitute for our lack of pyrotechnics.
We setup in front of the pool house, facing the pool. We were playing uphill to the crowd seated and mingling on rocky ledges and the deck. The Colonial house loomed in the background, a safe haven for those who wished to escape the blistering heat of the day, or the blisters of our music. We were performing on a slab in front of the pool house, with limited space, so we had to mount the speakers in the windows behind us. Furthermore, a two-foot wall was in front of us, so we had to raise our amps on top of empty chlorine pails. We were unequivocally backwoods. The only things missing were the suspenders and corn cob pipes.
While the pool threatened us with electrocution, and the kids diving in front of us were a mild distraction, and the setting sun playing directly into our eyes, we, armed with imaginative and mediocre talent, still managed to reel off ten songs, without much noticeable damage to the neighboring community. Despite a few minor glitches of neglected lyrics, disadvantaged chords, and juggled drum sticks, we never had to abandon a song. Wobbly at times, yes; but we stood our ground. And begged for compliments with puppy dog eyes and muffled whimpering.
And it felt…good. Remarkably good. Maybe after months of being hidden away in a basement, the daylight refreshed us. Maybe it was because it was a friendly crowd, accepting and banned from throwing empty bottles. Possibly the welcoming smiles and flirtatious winking from the mermaids encouraged us. In any case, we have some newfound confidence and spark. Watch out Las Vegas, we’re a-comin,’ so hide the women, ticks, and jackalopes.
You can check out a clip from said performance in the Tunes section at www.SuperSundayHamsterBlender.com. Look for the movie camera next to the song "Push Isolation" and settle back into oblivion.
Since last September, the band recorded eighteen songs. However, they were all recorded in pieces, track by track, with each instrument being laid down separately from each other. Until just recently, the band never played any of the songs as a band.
So, with our first outing scheduled, we had to rapidly learn to play them as a band for our special gig, this outdoor affair at friend Chris and Elaine’s house. It was very nice – and brave – for Chris and Elaine to invite us. They were dutifully warned; we only play originals since we don’t do any covers (yet), and this will be like a giant practice for us. In essence, we will play music no one knows and with anticipated plentiful screw-ups. Exactly what any party-goer wants to hear.
Amazingly, they enthusiastically accepted us. More importantly, they enthusiastically fed us.
Their house and yard is its own little Paradise Lost. The built-in pool has an adorable rock-laden waterfall. There’s a tiered deck and an outdoor built-in fireplace. A luxury grill, generous coolers of beer, and an abundance of mermaids and jackalopes roamed the grounds. It was like Las Vegas, except in the midst of Connecticut’s back woods, and with ticks instead of gamblers and hookers.
There were, in fact, no tick sightings or tick injuries. Therefore, the band pronounced its uncanny ability to ward off unwanted blood-sucking pests, something everyone should keep in mind when scheduling your next event and you plan on being near a wooded area, vampires, or oil company executives.
Our premier on this brilliant day was almost cancelled. Two days prior, we blew our PA head, and both vocalists had illnesses. It wasn’t until Saturday morning, a mere seven hours before the show that we committed to continue on. We figured that sore throat phlegm could be a fair substitute for our lack of pyrotechnics.
We setup in front of the pool house, facing the pool. We were playing uphill to the crowd seated and mingling on rocky ledges and the deck. The Colonial house loomed in the background, a safe haven for those who wished to escape the blistering heat of the day, or the blisters of our music. We were performing on a slab in front of the pool house, with limited space, so we had to mount the speakers in the windows behind us. Furthermore, a two-foot wall was in front of us, so we had to raise our amps on top of empty chlorine pails. We were unequivocally backwoods. The only things missing were the suspenders and corn cob pipes.
While the pool threatened us with electrocution, and the kids diving in front of us were a mild distraction, and the setting sun playing directly into our eyes, we, armed with imaginative and mediocre talent, still managed to reel off ten songs, without much noticeable damage to the neighboring community. Despite a few minor glitches of neglected lyrics, disadvantaged chords, and juggled drum sticks, we never had to abandon a song. Wobbly at times, yes; but we stood our ground. And begged for compliments with puppy dog eyes and muffled whimpering.
And it felt…good. Remarkably good. Maybe after months of being hidden away in a basement, the daylight refreshed us. Maybe it was because it was a friendly crowd, accepting and banned from throwing empty bottles. Possibly the welcoming smiles and flirtatious winking from the mermaids encouraged us. In any case, we have some newfound confidence and spark. Watch out Las Vegas, we’re a-comin,’ so hide the women, ticks, and jackalopes.
You can check out a clip from said performance in the Tunes section at www.SuperSundayHamsterBlender.com. Look for the movie camera next to the song "Push Isolation" and settle back into oblivion.
posted by Bedlam1313 at
7:15 PM
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