Kick Off Your High Heel Sneakers, It’s Party Time!
Ear boy returns with one of his frequent visits to the homeland to work on yet another TV show or related function. This time, it’s a related function. A party that is celebrating a new catagory into the 800lb gorilla of music award shows, the Granny Awards. What? Oh sorry, that’s Grammy Awards. I was wondering why there weren’t more grandmothers there. Now I know. It all started so innocently. The Star would do a four song set at a party with the band being the house band for the evening with a solo jazz performer on a piano. Or so they thought.
Initially, the gig was so low profile the crew wasn’t even going to be there. It was to basically be a pickup date at a party. Very low key. The producer called the manager, who called the band and soon after it was soup. The rub on this gig, though, was it was a multi function affair. The plan was easy. Jazz dude, that I happened to work with for a couple years on some nice International jazz tours, was to open playing background music on a 9 ft grand. The band would do a “history of rock” kind of set, ending with a few songs from Dude. As these things do, this one grew. This was a celebration that Native American music was being added as a category. We basically stole the country from them and have treated them like shit since. The least we could do is give them a Grammy category.
At this point, a well respected, accomplished tribal ensemble of about 40 strong authentic drum and chat/singing would be performing. They were quite good, a highlight of the show. Just doing the things they did on a regular basis, celebrating history and heritage. Some of the crap that’s foisted on us as art these days could stand to take a lesson from these folks. It added an other dimension to the show, but not too much. The jazz piano player, now had a seven piece band. That added another layer and now there was to be an “all skate” of all the musicians and the ensemble doing a piece specifically written for the event. They would be joined by a few guests and now another act would open the show. All of this on a 26′ x 12′ stage in a club in the Valley. No problem.
It became apparent to the producer, a one time sound guy himself, that he would need a production staff for the gig. Since our prod dude was already advancing the gig for the band, it made sense to bring him on as the show’s production person. It was a deal, and as part of that deal, prod dude stipulated that he needed his crew there, that means ear boy, FOH dude and squint dude. They agreed to bring me and FOH dude, but not squint dude for this gig. Shortly after prod dude took the gig, yours truely was named as the primary audio contact, similar to what we do on the classic rock show. I develop the spec, advance the audio part of the gig for both me and FOH dude then approve the gear lists and configurations. I would do the same for this gig, except it was more than just our normal classic rock extravaganza.
First order of business, find out what the hell we have to work with and what we will need to use to augment it. Getting someone that knew something about the club was almost like pulling teeth. That’s not exactly accurate. Pulling teeth would have been easier. The club and it’s owner apparently were embroiled in some sort of legal wranglings with the previous operator and the previous sound dude. That can’t be good. The place has been there for sometime under many incarnationsl. According to those that would know, the joint was initially remodeled to be a strip club though zoning issues put an end to that before they were allowed to open, thus turning it into another SoCal booze joint that had bands and DJs. In the olden days it was a rock club. Back in the day I was in there with one of the first acts I toured with. Calling the place small would be generous. They had done a shitload of work in there, the place was pretty nice, in fact.
We were finally able to contact the current sound dude for the club. The advance was, well, interesting. The club had an installed system. Several JBL EVOs and an assortment of smaller speakers, controlled by a Driverack 480 mixed to surround 5.1 format. There used to be a DM2000 in there, but in a recent burglery thieves made off with the console, some historic artifacts and the New Years Eve supply of champagne. Bastards… They replaced the DM2000 with an 02R/96 but at this point we were nearly a 60 channel show. This was primarily due to the “all skate” of the theme of the show that had nearly everyone playing at the same time. Just to mix things up, it was decided that we were to multi track this for a historical archive, or in the producers words, “to capture a moment”. Club sound dude wasn’t really equipped to handle the gig or even give me decent info on what was in the dive. At one point we were discussing power, I asked what the tie in was and he stated, with some ‘tude, that “there is enough to do a movie shoot”. That tells me absolutely dick all. He didn’t seem to get the point. Normally, were this a regular big rock show I’d have bid him farewell, called prod dude who would have then called the agent to open a can of Whoop-Ass on the venue or promoter and get it sorted. As were were doing a room rental for an upscale party, we couldn’t really go all disgruntled roadie on thier lame asses, though they deserved it. We had to be Hollywood mellow, condecending and arrogant, though in a way that those not paying attention wouldn’t notice. I expressed my displeasure with house boy, bid him farewell and proceeded to notify prod dude that this guy’s shit was anything but tight.
We still needed everything but stacks and racks, but we knew that coming into the gig. My call to house boy was mostly to see if we could use the house stacks. They’d do, but not exactly with the impact we were used to. As this was high brow function, we couldn’t just pile PA on each side of the stage like we were just some touring yokels, though we really were. We just didn’t have a truck or two worth of production for the place. Not yet, anyway. To get some stuff, I called my pals from the original punk rock sound company turned big time. I did some stuff with them for most of the first part of the year and I generally dig their vibe. Prod dude and FOH dude had other aspirations and called the uber sound company on the planet, guys that they had done millions, no really, millions of dollars worth of work with. No doubt, they are good folks that offer quality service, I just wanted to see my pals with the gig. The bidding was close and the grand daddy of PA companies got the gig. We had ordered a PM4k for out front, it’s our FOH boy’s choice. He’s old school and really, I mean really fucking good. He got his usual tc 2290, M5000, a couple of SPX 1000s, a pair of Summit DCL 200s and more comps and gates. I got what I normally use, a Heritage 3000 with a couple of multi effects, 10 comps and 6 gates. We also needed 8 wedges for the other artists and a tc 6032 rig and 12AMs were provided for that. We would use the house stacks and mostly our artists mics, though we’d need a few extra. Except for the power, all the production bits started to come together.
I was due to arrive the day before the function. FOH dude would arrive day of show and prod dude would arrive the day before me, doing site inspections and production meetings until I got there when we would have more meetings and another site inspection. That’s what you do when you do these kinds of gigs. You have meetings. Lots of them. Make sure you charge for your time. I took a nooner out of SeaTac and switched to a regional jet at SFO for arrival in Burbank. After 30 years living in So Cal and nearly a quarter century touring I’ve learned at least one thing (acutally, I’ve learned way more than that…) avoid LAX like you would a stalker hanging out backstage. The airport isn’t so bad, but getting anywhere after you leave the airport can be an ordeal. Downtown or even Hollywood isn’t too bad, though Burbank is better, but the Valley and OC are just dismal to get to unless you get in late at night. I arrived at Burbank just after 3:00 pm and proceeded to the hotel provided shuttle to make my way to the world famous Sportsman’s Lodge.
I dig the Sportsman’s. It’s really a glorified Best Western, but the staff is cool, the restaraunt has good breakfast and the location is killer. If you are traveling in a rolling roadie house there’s plenty of parking for four or five of them. The bar is pretty weak, but seeing how you are just minutes from some of the best watering holes on the planet, that’s small potatoes. And Jerry’s is walking distance for that great LA/New York wannabe deli restaurant style dining. Anytime of the day or night. Jerry’s, like Canter’s or Duke’s is an LA institution. Normally, I might stay at the Standard on the Strip or at the place next to the Diaper errr I mean Viper Room or Le Parc, Meridian or Le Montrose. These days I dig the Standard, there’s nothing like half naked women sitting in an aquarium behind the desk and a line up to get into the lobby bar. I hosted a small gathering there the weekend we announced ProSoundWeb. It was great. I stay there everytime I get a chance. They’ve also got one downtown, for when your stuck over in that area that has killer parties on roof. For a while I basically lived half a mile or so from the Standard in West Hollywood and at one time, looked at an apartment across the street. I consider it home, though I’ve lived in the Northwest the past 14 years.
After arrival at the Sportsman’s, I contacted prod dude. We agreed to meet in 20 mins for “linner” (lunch/dinner) at Jerry’s then hit the gig for my site inspection. We still didn’t have the power thing sorted and neither of us were comforted by the fact we’d been told we had enough power to “shoot a movie”. We were doing a pop show, not a film shoot. If you’ve ever been to Jerry’s, the menu is way too much. Prod dude and I ordered way too much food, had some boxed and set out to see the gig. I still had to call my pal OSM, The Old Soundman. Or as I like to call him, Old Soundman bin Laden. Yes kiddies, it’s a real person that really does sound. He happened to be in town the same time as I. In fact, nearly every roadie or management type was in town. After all, this was the premier event for folks of our ilk. Prod dude and I pulled up to the club about “half five” (that’s Teabag speak for 5:30…) and to our surprise, someone was there. The caterers had set the buffet table and bar staff were inventorying the liquor. We did a quick site survey and were ready to split when the club owner asked if we could look at something. They had a couple of Martin wiggle lights that lit the front of the dive that weren’t working. Some Martin software controlled it. The club owner though since I was a sound guy, I could get the wiggle lights to work. HUH? Sound, sound. Not lights. We looked at it, called our pal squint boy back in Nashvegas, who was watching the Shrek DVD with his kids and asked him WTF? Based on the info we got, the former squint tech for the club programmed a bunch of dead scenes, took the disk and split. Nice. We got out of there close to 7:00 pm, or about an hour after I was supposed to call Old Soundman bin Laden. In the meantime, we heard tale of a big shindig in Hollywood after the prestigious Pollstar Awards. We weren’t enough of players to get tix to the awards show. That’s not entirely true, we just didn’t know enough before hand. Besides, who wants to see promoters and roadies dressed in tuxes and gowns get awards. For one, I wouldn’t have minded but we were too late, though we had a few connects that would help us crash the party. All they had to say were the magic words. Open bar.
Prod dude was the one invited and while he could crash it with one other (that would be me) we didn’t know that he could do it with Old Soundman bin Laden in tow. Turns out, OSMbL knew at least as many of the players there, including the guy that was going to help get us in. My pal was waiting in the Valley for me. For almost an hour. I honestly didn’t think we’d get hung up like we did and I didn’t bring my phone. Fortunately, he didn’t BBQ my ass like I expected, he was cool about me being late. We left Sportsman’s at about 7:30 (or half 7) and prod dude was to meet up with us later. The big awards show wasn’t due to end until about 9:00 pm when free food and drinks would be dispersed to those in attendance. We killed time in the mall that was now part of that complex at the Renaissance Hollywood, home of the Kodak Theater. When I lived there, it was the Holiday Inn where me and my production buddies took the security mavens and waitresses we called our dates for the night for a romping good time. It was much more upscale than that now. Much has changed in a decade and a half. OSMbL and I dined on Mongolian BBQ while we waited for the show to end, trolled the bars there and did a bit of window shopping.
We met up with prod dude at about 9:00 pm. In fact, he was talking to us on the phone when we actually ran into him. It was a Sprint moment. Can you hear me now? Good! We contacted big time sound company operator dude that was going to get us into the party. Prod dude knew him, OSMbL knew him, I had talked to him a couple of times on the phone, five or six years ago. I didn’t know him. As the primary function ended, throngs of people headed up the escalators to the fifth floor ballroom. All with laminates and formal wear. I had a suit with me, but all three of us were dressed like roadies. Jeans and tee shirts, though I had a leather jacket. We kind of stood out, and that’s hard to do around other big time professional show business roadies, though they were dress for an evening that included formal attire. After waiting a few minutes, we sent prod dude up to scope the scene, though the signs clearly stated that credentials were required. Just after he went up, our host, who had just taken sound company of the year honors, came down to meet us. We headed up and I called prod dude. “Come on up, there’s nobody at the door” he said as we headed up. Indeed, there was no pass checking, the doors, like the bar and food service lines, were wide open. In fact, there was a box next to the door with several hundred passes, each on a lanyard. We took a couple and started the smooze-o-rama.
The place read like a Who’s Who of production types, promoters, agents, manager types and roadies. You could tell the roadies. They looked like us and there were quite a few of them. In the first 10 mins or so, prod dude and OSMbL knew about 20 people combined. I met the brain trust of three of the top five PA companies, though I’d met a few of them before. It seemed like they didn’t know me. After I headed to the bar, they asked my pal what the deal was with me. They knew me from the LAB. They just didn’t know me. I was kind of flattered. About the point where I thought I’d never recognise anybody, a few sound types and a promoter types happened by that I knew. Whew… I wasn’t an unconnected wallflower. Well, I was, I just happened to know a few of these folks. All in all, it was a good time. One of the best times I’d had at an industry function. I’ve been to scores of trade shows and other functions, but this one was different. There were no marketers. No one trying to shove the latest console down my throat or pontificate on how good their product really was. Just folks that did gigs for a living, socializing and networking with each other. We called it an early night. I had an early morning. A tough gig was ahead.