Chris Badynee is back with memories of Lili and another stream of consciousness piece about the thrills, spills and chills of living improvisational joy in "Another Laffing Gas gig at Lili's." 'For some reason, my bass sounds RANK today, so i move to beating the body like a conga, and slamming my fist near the strings. I get a low WHOOOOOOOOOP BAP! WHOOOOOOOOOOP BAP-A-DAP!'
Click "Read More" for a bath in Badynee's Wash-Tub.
...Laffing Gas (an improv thang)...
i get to the gig at 10:30pm. (Lilis bar)
Laffing Gas supposed to go on at 11,
but the opening band hasnt started yet.
typical...
The bar has a good crowd. Lili's is a "dive" in every aspect.
A very cool, dark, dirty little place,
slowly i enter alone again
and i say hi and hugg my band mates "hello".
It's kind-a weird. I don't really know these guys names!
I know the sax and trumpet cats are brothers, but i'm embarressed.
Taking a seat far at the other end of the bar, i sit with a photo of Lili. (Lili is the bar owner, now deceased)
All in her glory days of age 68, in spandax and wing tip glasses,
i can almost HEAR her schreechy voice complaing about my "guest list" ten years ago.
In her classic "old polish lady" charm...
"You in dis ba, you PAY fi dolla".
(she had a Polish accent)
pointing RIGHT IN MY FACE wanting the cover.$$$$$
(and i'm in the band !gigging !)
So i gotta pay 5 bucks each,
for the 4 of my friends to come see me!!!!!!
She was just sooooo friggin bizzarre,
and the END of the night, after 2am,
she became genuine, wonderfully proud to PAY us...
with cash and huggssss galore.
Picture your gramma wearing skin tight work-out pants,
and a shiny/clingy shirt, I Love Lucy SunGlasses,
slamming down a shot and a beer
(i dunno if she ever did, Lili just seemed
like a shot and a beer babe)
usually pissed off about SOMEthing (i never wanted to know).
Yet, she was charming and a bit of a flirt.
I loved that woman.
Once, when I was gigging there with Skeleton Crew, about 10 years ago,
the ELECTRICITY went out during the FIRST song of the night.
We were supposed to perform 2 sets of original music!!!
Lili clapped obnoxiously and demanded we keep playing!
No Power! No Electricity…
Did she worry about her refridgeraters? Nope…
She directed us to come off the stage,
and play to the packed little bar, in the MIDDLE of the room.
Unplugged!
Some guy enters the bar with a beat up old UPRIGHT BASS!!!!!
((I can’t believe this))
I never touched an upright bass in my life.
I lost my Acoustic-Virginity that night.
Nothing would ever be the same for me,and nothing has.
I ordered a Polish Blackberry Brandy, and a Strohs,
And discovered new ways of obtaing finger callouses
So today…
I raise my shot to toast to the portrait of influence.
I love that woman.
*click* it's showtime. Right now, Tonite.
The band before us is very cooL.
Rock improv, with a lively bassist.
Looks like most of the crowd came to see them as i too am entertained.
I applause at their performance.
About 11:30pm, they end ,
I go up on the stage to set up my stuff.
Today, i brought the usual electric fretless and my wash-tub bass.
Damn, i missed gigging with the Farleys!
Jim and Rasta basicly saved my musical life.
After Skeleton Crew disbanded, i did NOTHING for 4 years.
Graciously, Jim and Rasta Farly
got me to gig back to my roots of punk and blues
They introduced me to The Impaler,
and Lemon James (whom i spent a year doing FANTASTIC gigs).
My washtub was never played in front of an audience UNTIL the Farleys.
They invited me to gig two weeks ago,
i simply couldn't due to family things.
The Impaler invited me to gig last week , again i couldn't.
*sighs*
As i set up my stuff, Jessie (drummer, I know HIS name)
tells me of a gig at the Music Menu in Greektown TOMMORROW!!!!! SUNDAY!!!!
AAAAAARGH!!!!
I'm a family man.
My responsibilities are sometimes overwhelming.
The most difficult responsibility to bear is "being there".
I can't gig every weekend because the need of "being there" at home exsists.
Not that i'm DOING anything there.
The guys look puzzled at my explanation.
"The kids will be in bed" ... "ya, i know" ...
frustration is also an inspiration!
The first jamm opens up very low, smooth, groovless, sparse...
and i fiddle around up past the 12th.
For some reason, my bass sounds RANK today,
so i move to beating the body like a conga,
and slamming my fist near the strings.
I get a low WHOOOOOOOOOP BAP! WHOOOOOOOOOOP BAP-A-DAP!
The drummer instanly falls into a groove.
I'm not playing ANY music notes yet.
Totally absorbed in the juices.
I know the sax and horn brothers are being GREAT musically
but i cant hear them.
Their notes are right next to me,
but i surrender MY harmonic control to the rythms.
Looking down at the bass body, my hand's turning red.
I am taking full swings, striking the body, beating her helpless,
loving my bass as a dom,
I think to myself "maybe this isn't such a good idea".
I take the palm of my right hand, with all my might,
i shove the E and A string into the fretless fret board.
HARD , with evil aggressions... Ow!!! too....
I rub with a forceful delite up and down the bass neck...
"Sharooooooom-Sharooooooom"
then discover a complex ditty, locked in tight, grooving,
holding down the bottem as the guys fly above me.
The keys sparkle.
WE exchange glances and smile as the jam progresses.
Gawd, i luv this!
Rocking steady, this crunchy bowl of improv morphs into swing.
My heart pounds.
This is it!
The jamm maintains steadily as I move my bass behind me like a sack of mail,
i then reach for my washtub bass...
lift up my broomstick, place my left foot strategicly on the edge,
and enter Swingin' Paradise as i play my washtub bass.
The guys look at me in disbelief, we share a laff (in time, of course)
I mimmick their melody as we laff,
swing and sway like Sammy Kaye!
It lasts a few minuits, then changes naturally into a straight forward
rockin' beat.
I simply drop the broom stick, and return to walking.
Strolling, "what say we prominade thru the park"
as my bass sings, my passion is displayed for all.
Realizing this, I feel myself blush, and kind-a hide nearer the drumms.
Jessie and I relate as if we're lovers.
Following moves with no words.
Few glances, eyes wide shut.
Meeting each other on the 4.
Laffing as we flamm on the 3.
Moving through the 2d.
CRASHING on each 1st.
We did this about 16 times, then without looking at anyone else,
simply ended the jamm smooooooooothly as if it were planned and rehearsed.
*sighs*
I looked around for my Strohs (beer) , but there it is all the way at the other end of the bar.
I’m on stage waway too far
The sax guy starts a familiar melody, and we all fall into place.
Jamming the rest of the night away
improvising,
to me the audience is on display
supporting with comfort as each melody arrives
as if we’ve known each other
all of our short lives.