In with the Band

Compulsive RENT viewing has illuminated another theme for me, in addition to those mentioned below. The importance of Artists supporting other Artists…

One of my dear close friends, Hyim, is an extraordinary musician, producer, composer, and all-around wonderful individual. A teacher, activist, and freedom-fighter. Seriously, the world needs more people like Hyim. Anyways, last night Hyim and his band The Fat Foakland Orchestra, came down to Santa Cruz for a gig. Watching them rock my hometown was so much fun–not just because they put on a great show, but because I got to hang with the band and play entourage for a bit… Chillun’ backstage (or more accurately in the room to the left of the stage) where we were able to eat, smoke, drink, and be merry before, during, and after the show. I felt so “cool,” lol. Not to mention, Pablo, Mark, Ajai and Derek are the sweetest group of guys. They made me feel very welcome.

They finally took the stage after many rounds of puff, puff, pass the spiced rum. I went out front to grab a seat, and was treated to a wonderful show. And a flashback. At Hyim’s first CD release party in 2003, I fell all in lust with his (now former) bass player. Said bass player eventually went on to become one of my more significant others. Back then, I used to go to all the gigs, enjoying all the perks afforded to the bass player’s girlfriend. For a myriad of reasons, I had to block out most of my memories of that time, but last night sure did remind me how much fun it was dating a musician.

I love musicians – they are their own special breed and sexy as hell. Passion flows through their veins, the beat is their pulse. But really, what is it about rock stars that makes grown women swoon? You can pass a guy on the street and think, eh, he’s alright, and then 30 minutes later see him up on stage with a guitar in his hand and all of a sudden you’re falling in love, lol. I mean, look at Steven Tyler of Aerosmith or Mick Jagger. What is it about them that makes them sex symbols? Would people think they were so hot if they sold used cars? Doubtful.

I could even say the same about Tim. Don’t get me wrong, I Love Tim McGraw. But let’s be honest here, in ‘real life,’ Tim is an ordinary-looking man with a receding hairline. Not ugly, but certainly not Brad Pitt. But you know what, the second he takes the stage, I go weak in the knees. Scream my ass off like a teenager at a Backstreet Boys concert. I am a grown-ass woman, typically reserved and controlled in my everyday life, but for some reason Tim places me on the edge of hysteria when he’s on-stage. I can’t explain it, but that euphoric Tim high, without fail, is what keeps me coming back for more. And more. And more.

Whoa, tangent. Hmmm, I think my point was, while trying my hardest not to fall in love with Hyim’s bass player and percussionist, lol, I was treated to an awesome evening of soul-stirring music, good company, and fulfillment of the fantasy every good groupie girl has — getting in with the band, and breaking bread with her heroes on the other side of the velvet rope. Good times, good times. I really need to get out more often…