We returned to the Beach Hut Deli in Auburn for our first of back-to-back shows. The moon was full, and we wore Santa hats. After all, it was the Pyronauts Christmas Party. Or were we just lunatics?“Hi. We are the Lava Pups. We are going to put some energy into this room.” Glenn started, and we were underway.
Maybe the Santa hat was frying my brain. Whoops, a lapse here. Huh? Another lapse there. Step back to strike some kind of pose. Oh, crap! I stepped on the tuner which went into the bypass mode. No sound! My head is sweating. What? Start into the ending a full verse early. Catch it! Throw in an extra bar. Never did that before. I think my head is melting.
“Jack the Ripper.” Drums faster and faster. Cymbal crash. Chord. Done! I threw my hat into the applauding audience. Air and relief swept over my head. I thought, “Thank goodness that is over.” Obviously, since I still was thinking, my brain was not fried completely!
But what went on inside my head must not have been fully visible to the 100 or so folks in the room. And I was not about to tell them.
“You guys were so much better than last time.” Reply, “Thank you.”
“You guys played really tight.” Response, “Thank you.”
“You guys rocked!” Again, “Thank you.”
One appreciative member of the audience held out his fist and said, “Awesome.” I responded with a fist bump.
My unspoken reaction to all of this was a combination of we must have been really horrid (putrid, rancid, or some similar pejorative term) the first time and too bad you missed us at the Downtown Plaza a month ago when we kicked out the jams.
“Oh, shut up, Mr. Self-Critic. Remember what you learned last week.” The evaluation of our performances is simple. Was it fun? Yes. By that measure we had a good show. Did we bring energy to the room? Yes. By that measure we had a good show.
Our biggest fan and most honest critic -- Becky -- gave her assessment on the drive from Auburn back to Sacramento. “Everybody liked you guys. You made a few mistakes, but people who didn’t know the songs didn’t notice. You kept the mic in front of your mouth and didn’t succumb to talking too much. You didn’t bite your lip as much.” I asked if we were too loud. “No, you were just right.”
We passed or semi-passed three of her pet peeves: Mic, countenance, and volume.
By then, anything that she had to say was going to be constructive and helpful. Earlier, an unexpected conversation led to the realization that we might be on the right path as performers. As everybody was packing up or cleaning up from the night, I thanked the owner of the Beach Hut Deli for allowing the bands to play. “No. Thank you. This is a win-win. I’m planning on a show in January with the Lava Pups, Cash Prophets, and Pyronauts.” With the Lava Pups? Now that is a compliment!
We talked of venues, his expansion plans, other shows that he had in mind, and my concept of a monthly surf-rockabilly show. He spoke of friends who he thought would be supportive and would like our music. We exchanged business cards.
Five minutes with the owner shut Mr. Self-Critic up. And, when (if) we get back to the Beach Hut Deli, we need to remember: No hats! Or not under a full moon!