“Thank you. Give it up for the Sneaky Tikis! The Lava Pups will be up shortly. And the Sneaky Tikis will be back. Eat, drink, and bowl. Support the Capitol Bowl. Support the bands. Tip generously!”
While the Pups set up, the audience began to dwindle. Do that many folks still smoke? Maybe they were going to bowl. Well, it was a break between bands after all.
Tune. Sound check. Too loud. Adjust. Glenn changed the drum kit to suit him. Lucas (Kuhn) and Lukas (Brodie) of the Sneaky Tikis, Glenn, and I huddled over how we would do “Wipe Out” when they joined us. As we did that, the nagging voice started up again, “You did not rehearse that; it potentially is a disaster.” But, in the words of Julius Caesar, the die was cast.
Glenn, Sue, and Robert nodded that they were ready. Some of the smokers had returned as had many of the folks who stepped out to congratulate the Sneaky Tikis.
I flicked on the mic and reached down for my radio voice, “How about the Sneaky Tikis?” Enthusiastic applause. “They’ll be back.” More enthusiastic applause. “How about the Capitol Bowl?” Polite applause. “We are the Lava Pups.” More polite applause.
I began “Mr. Moto.” Robert stopped me. “I can’t hear you.” Adjust the amp. Mulligan. As we played, a glance at the audience revealed that they liked it. By our spy medley, we had them. They were feeling the primal quality of recognizable retro instrumentals and instrumental versions of rock songs. They sang or hummed along.
We changed the pace from song to song. The set presented a contrast to the high energy of the Sneaky Tikis. Fast to slow to moderate tempos. “Runaway” to “Sleepwalk” to “Apache” and back to “Surf Party” and “Squad Car.”
“Here’s one that we have not played before. We think that you can sing along. If you don’t know the words, you know the concept . . . because we’re out here having fun. Where? In the warm California Sun!” More singing along. Bodies swaying. That has a place in our future.
“The Sneaky Tikis will join us after this next song.” Applause. I looked around but could not see them. Somebody reported, “They’re bowling.” After finding which lane they were on, I read the monitor for Rob’s final roll and announced, “Open frame!”
We then went into the Link Wray Medley. More primal rock. Faster. Faster. Faster. Cymbal crash. I almost left my feet to get to the A chord.
“We’d like the Sneaky Tikis to join us.” While they plugged in, I yammered on about Link Wray, thanked the Capitol Bowl and the audience, and chided folks about the tip jar. “Looks pretty paltry from here. The musicians are playing for tips.”
Everybody on stage was ready. “Here is the best known Link Wray song and the first instrumental to be banned from the radio.” I started up “Rumble.” Everybody joined in. Primitive. Ominous. We may have missed the ending. But what can you expect from one rehearsal? Plus nobody really cared.
Up to the mic. “Wipe Out, Baby!” Glenn was on drums for a couple rounds. Then Lukas. Then they played together. The audience was loving it. Family and friends were taking pictures. Somebody may have had a video camera going. We managed to find an ending.
Applause. Cheers. Hoots. Hollers. I introduced both bands. More applause. More cheers.
“One more thing to tend to. You’ve heard me talk about how old I am. Well, Glenn is having his birthday this week, and he is catching up. Here’s a song that you can sing along with.” Glissando into “Happy Birthday.” Everybody joined in. More applause.
“Thank you for being here today. Without your participation, there will be no live music. Now, we’ll turn this over to the fourth wave. The Sneaky Tikis will take it out!” Our surprise ending for the set.
Rob started up “Miserlou” in the style of Slacktone. Take it out they did.
Wow! This had been a wonderful and fun show. But . . . .
While the Pups set up, the audience began to dwindle. Do that many folks still smoke? Maybe they were going to bowl. Well, it was a break between bands after all.
Tune. Sound check. Too loud. Adjust. Glenn changed the drum kit to suit him. Lucas (Kuhn) and Lukas (Brodie) of the Sneaky Tikis, Glenn, and I huddled over how we would do “Wipe Out” when they joined us. As we did that, the nagging voice started up again, “You did not rehearse that; it potentially is a disaster.” But, in the words of Julius Caesar, the die was cast.
Glenn, Sue, and Robert nodded that they were ready. Some of the smokers had returned as had many of the folks who stepped out to congratulate the Sneaky Tikis.
I flicked on the mic and reached down for my radio voice, “How about the Sneaky Tikis?” Enthusiastic applause. “They’ll be back.” More enthusiastic applause. “How about the Capitol Bowl?” Polite applause. “We are the Lava Pups.” More polite applause.
I began “Mr. Moto.” Robert stopped me. “I can’t hear you.” Adjust the amp. Mulligan. As we played, a glance at the audience revealed that they liked it. By our spy medley, we had them. They were feeling the primal quality of recognizable retro instrumentals and instrumental versions of rock songs. They sang or hummed along.
We changed the pace from song to song. The set presented a contrast to the high energy of the Sneaky Tikis. Fast to slow to moderate tempos. “Runaway” to “Sleepwalk” to “Apache” and back to “Surf Party” and “Squad Car.”
“Here’s one that we have not played before. We think that you can sing along. If you don’t know the words, you know the concept . . . because we’re out here having fun. Where? In the warm California Sun!” More singing along. Bodies swaying. That has a place in our future.
“The Sneaky Tikis will join us after this next song.” Applause. I looked around but could not see them. Somebody reported, “They’re bowling.” After finding which lane they were on, I read the monitor for Rob’s final roll and announced, “Open frame!”
We then went into the Link Wray Medley. More primal rock. Faster. Faster. Faster. Cymbal crash. I almost left my feet to get to the A chord.
“We’d like the Sneaky Tikis to join us.” While they plugged in, I yammered on about Link Wray, thanked the Capitol Bowl and the audience, and chided folks about the tip jar. “Looks pretty paltry from here. The musicians are playing for tips.”Everybody on stage was ready. “Here is the best known Link Wray song and the first instrumental to be banned from the radio.” I started up “Rumble.” Everybody joined in. Primitive. Ominous. We may have missed the ending. But what can you expect from one rehearsal? Plus nobody really cared.
Up to the mic. “Wipe Out, Baby!” Glenn was on drums for a couple rounds. Then Lukas. Then they played together. The audience was loving it. Family and friends were taking pictures. Somebody may have had a video camera going. We managed to find an ending.
Applause. Cheers. Hoots. Hollers. I introduced both bands. More applause. More cheers.
“One more thing to tend to. You’ve heard me talk about how old I am. Well, Glenn is having his birthday this week, and he is catching up. Here’s a song that you can sing along with.” Glissando into “Happy Birthday.” Everybody joined in. More applause.
“Thank you for being here today. Without your participation, there will be no live music. Now, we’ll turn this over to the fourth wave. The Sneaky Tikis will take it out!” Our surprise ending for the set.
Rob started up “Miserlou” in the style of Slacktone. Take it out they did.
Wow! This had been a wonderful and fun show. But . . . .