Mozart's Punch-Out

The day that began with seeing Craig Kilborn on the tennis courts carried on with a phone call from my friend asking me to haul it over to the studio to lay down some baritone saxophone on Beach Boys legend, Brian Wilson's, new record. If you don't think I'm introducing myself as "hello, I'm Zack Hexum and I played on Brian Wilson new record" for the next couple years, you're crazy.

I didn't get to meet Brian, but rumor has it he drank one of the bottles of water I bought and left at the studio. This makes me feel like one of the *ahem* "enthusiastic" Drake Bell fans who hangs out after the gig and screams like they're on fire when I throw them one of Drake's guitar picks after the show. I suppose that ecstatic joy is the common thread of all music fans, it's just degrees and fear of large men with needles that keeps me from getting the artist's face tattooed on my kneecap.

That momentous day concluded with a friend getting me a ticket to a semi-secret Elvis Costello show at The El Rey Theater (I still hate saying "the el", but I'll move on with a twinge of cognitive dissonance). Twas my first time seeing Elvis. On recent records his vibrato is a bit much for me. Live he blew my socks off. Fortunately I was wearing comfortable shoes, so it worked out well.

After last Wednesday's series of unbelievable events, I had a quick jaunt to Iowa for a gig with Drake the Bell. We played Waterloo. Alas, I was unable to find the time to hit up a pawn shop and have another Little City Driver-style Dobro experience. We did, however enjoy rocking out. We're going to add Jellyfish's "Joining a Fanclub" to our repertoire before our next batch o' shows. Best be warned.

Sunday, SUNDAY, ¡SUNDAY! was the recording session for Brandon Rogers' single "Broken". I was there in my capacity as string quartet arranger, and let me tell ya, folks: there ain't nothin' like the real thing. When I was doing ghost-writing for TV over the last few months I used sampled strings, because I didn't have the budget or the time to employ an orchestra, or more specifically use anyone who's name wasn't Zack Hexum, or at least someone who was wearing his underwear. Yesterday, however Brandon hired the über string quartet "The Section". I felt like Thomas Edison, listening to parts I invented being played by flesh, blood, and wood musicians and their instruments. I'm already scheming for my next opportunity in that department.

Mozart wrote his first symphony at age eight (I knew how to get thirty lives on Contra for Nintendo when I was 8 years-old, and I may have learned how to ride a bike by then, too). I'm writing my first piece for string quartet at an age when I'm old enough to have fathered an eight-year old, but that's ok. I'm on my own pace here, folks. I could totally take Mozart in Mike Tyson's Punch-Out (if it were a two-player game).

Sunday's string-stravaganza ended with a quiet and 99% pleasant evening at Libertine. The artist who was on after me had what I assume to be either a mom or manager (or a momager, as I have dubbed this archetypal character) patrolling the crowd who shushed me and a group of friends for talking during the line check (this means the artist hadn't started performing yet). She asked us to kindly move to the other end of the bar and topped it off with a "you understand". Yes, I understand. You're asking a portion of the audience to move away from the artist during the performance, thus erasing the likelihood of creating new fans who aren't specifically there to see them, and annoying/alienating (annoylienating?) complaining blogging musicians, such as myself.

I've played a decent amount of solo shows where I've battled talkers, drunk talkers, drunk-dancing talkers, drunk-dialing talkers, Weird Al, talking heads, headless talkers, and most of the in between. A silent audience may be golden, but the artist has to earn it.

Anywah, it's been a busy and unbelievably lucky couple of days. Time to get back to it, and manufacture more of those.