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Foreward
The following people were present at the Troubadour on Saturday, October 25, 1997: Frank Briggs, Toss Panos, Tom Freeman, Doug Lunn, Rich Pike, Ed Lucas, Michael Harrison, Mike Mangini, Tom Wictor (author of my Bass Player Magazine profile), Rich Lewis, Todd Dever (the creator of Soap Scum Remover), Swan (see Acts 2 and 5), Jeff and Suzanne Forrest (Immune Records), Marc Ziegenhagen (our new keyboardist, also of Zappa's Universe), Joe Travers, Mike Keneally, and me.
Do you have any idea how long it would take me to write about what it was like to have that much of the Keneally brethren in one place, at one time, watching us play brand-new material with a new band member to boot? Yep--it would take fucking forever. Thankfully, there was one more fellow who made it to the show: Christian Heilman.
You may remember this man as the guy who snapped the photo of the bizarre bathroom at the Exxon Mini-Mart in Pollard Flat, CA (see Act 12 for the photo in question). Or, you may not remember him at all. Either way, he's a new member of the LOB Hall of Fame, because he's the one who's gonna tell you all about that night at the Troubadour.
Yeah, I know. I said I was going to talk about "Sluggo!" and other stuff, but the CD won't be out until November 15 anyway, and besides--I'm swamped. I'll write the "Sluggo!" Act in due time. In the meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this change of pace in the LOB.
Now AFTER YOU READ THIS REPORT (and not a second before), you'll have great fun checking out the following pages that Mr. Heilman has been kind enough to set up for you all. The first page contains a truckload of pictures from the weekend of the Troubadour show. The picture address is:
http://www.mtshasta.com/christian/dreamdate.html
Then, if that's not enough for you, we have two excerpts from the show itself available for your listening pleasure. Wanna know what songs they are? Go to these two pages and find out for yourself:
http://www.mtshasta.com/christian/ken1.html
http://www.mtshasta.com/christian/ken2.html
You'll need a Shockwave player in order to fully experience the audio magic, so if you don't have one, get the plug-in and you'll be good to go. I REPEAT--I can't stress highly enough how much more you'll enjoy those special treats if you simply take the time to read the following story first.
One thing before you get to know Mr. Heilman--I was genuinely taken aback by the sheer amount of accolades he heaped on MK/BFD in his account of the show. He was not overly fawning towards us in person, so it came as a bit of a surprise to me just how much of an effect we had on him during his stay with us. I mean, he was nice and all, but...oh, I don't know what I'm trying to say here. Thanks, I guess. As you can see, I'm still dealing with the whole idea of being seen as someone "special". It may not come off that way, especially considering the amount of self-publicity present in the LOB, but it's true. So I just wanted to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who listens to BFD and reads this page.
Boy, wasn't that awkward? I think it's time to turn it over to Mr. Heilman. Christian, the conch is yours.
_______________________
My Dream Date with Mike Keneally 10/24 and 10/25, 1997 - Los Angeles, California.
<insert Tiger Beat cover with smiling photo of Mikey>
[Now, thanks to the massive imagination and talents of Ted Martin, you can SEE that cover!]
Introduction
OK, I know what you're thinking.
Who is Christian Heilman and why am I reading his Bryan Beller-esque essay on his recent pilgrimage to Keneally-land? Well, I have permission to do this. Really. None other than the bassboy69 himself requested that I provide yet another perspective on the MK/BFD phenomenon. Bryan is a lazy bastard. And gladly I will. Here goes.
Who am I? Well, I am a huge Mike Keneally fan first and foremost. I discovered Mike through the normal internet route: alt.fan.frank-zappa to Moosenet. Then, having purchased hat and Boil That Dust Speck, I was hopelessly hooked on the aural ambrosia that is Mike's music. But I was also equally addicted to the immense amount of conceptual accompaniment that is Mike's moosenet web site. If you're reading this, you know what I mean. If I can kiss up to Scott Chatfield for a moment (God knows I kissed up to every other member of the MK entourage), I think it's brilliant stuff. The best the web has to offer. OK, enough CEO smoochage. I had only seen Mike play live once, and it was as part of the Steve Vai band on their very first show in Concord as part of the multi-wanker G3 guitar orgy. As cool as that was, it was not a vehicle for Mike (of course) but it was fun to finally see an animated, non-virtual Mike rocking out and doubling impossible guitar parts and trading instruments like some sort of mutant musical octopus. He had a cute hat on too. My girlfriend was impressed, and so was I. But I longed for a pure unadulterated dose of Mikeness. I also fantasized about working for Mike. So I wished and asked the heavens above.
OK, so what else do you need to know about me? Well, I am a musician (a drummer), a webmaster, an engineer, and also a live sound guy. Gathering a little courage, I typed up a resume of sorts and e-mailed to Bryan and Mike, sure that I would get some sort of polite rebuff. But I thought, what the fuck? Amazingly, Bryan wrote back:
-----------------------------
Date: Sun, 14 Sep 1997 19:17:47 -0700
To: "christian heilman" <christianheilman@hotmail.com>
From: Bryan Beller <bassboy69@earthlink.net>
Subject: You're On File, Dude
Christian-
Well, well. We have a new victim. Haw haw haw...
Just kidding. I passed on your offer and qualifications to Mr. K, and he was quite intrigued. Here's the deal as it stands now--the West Coast mini-tour may only happen in Southern California. It may be easier for us to wait until the album comes out to try and get up there, since we're trying to schedule everything around an October 25 gig in LA at The Troubadour. Maybe I shouldn't have shoved that info up on the web so fast...aaah, fuck it. [Ed. note--the mini-tour was indeed a casualty of MK's time constraints in getting off the road and preparing for this show in particular--BB]
Anyway, no matter what happens, we don't take offers this serious lightly. I'm sticking this e-mail in a special spot (no, not up my ass, however special that spot is to me), and it will be referenced at the proper time. Thanks for the phone number as well.
You may live to regret this. Just ask Ed Lucas. On second thought, don't.
Thanks again,
Bryan Beller
------------------------
Wow. Could this really be? Mike is intrigued? Wow again. Not trying to read too much into this message, I filed it in my e-mail storage place and proceeded with my life. Little did I know that I would get the magic phone call not more than a few weeks later.
Late one afternoon, my girlfriend (domestic partner if you will), a charming delightful woman, ran into the living room. Sporting a grin as wide as the Ol' Miss, she said these fateful words: "Mike Keneally is on the phone." I thought at first it might be some sort of prank, but who did I know that knew Mike? It had to be him, so I picked up the phone with my heart pumping and proceeded to ask the inevitable stupid fucking question: "Hi...is this REALLY Mike Keneally?" Yep. I told him it felt like getting a phone call from God, to which he quickly retorted: "yeah, but God doesn't have to sleep on a bus". Apparently he was doing a little ground work to prepare for an upcoming LA show at the Troubadour while still on the road with Son of G3 tour that was winding its way through the Southwest. He told me that he had received my e-mail/resume. He asked me if I was available to work as a tech (roadie) for the Oct 25th gig. I turned him down. What, you say? Yes, I turned him down. I had a romantic seaside weekend preplanned with my significant other and felt a fierce sense of loyalty to those plans. Only after I got off the phone did I realize how insanely stupid that was. She told me I was a fool for not accepting the offer, as it was the dream come true I had been talking about since I received Beller's e-mail. She urged me to get right back on the phone and talk to Mike. Well, of course he wasn't home, so I left a message with Mike's wife Viv. An hour or so later I got a call back from Mike from G3-land and a deal was struck: I was going to be on my way to meet and work with MK/BFD in LA in two weeks.......whew! I laughed to myself recalling Mike's parallel story of how he turned down FZ's first offer to audition so he could keep a commitment to Drop Control's micro-gig in San Diego. Boy, be careful what you ask for, for you will surely get it.
So, that's the intro. From here on, I'll present a fairly chronological account of my experience. I am sure that I'll jump from present to past tense, but Bryan is editing, so it's his fault ultimately. [Ed. note--you're on your own, buddy--BB]
An-ti-ci-pation
In the weeks leading up to the gig, I felt a strange sense of ecstasy and nervousness. Although Mike seems friendly and approachable, I still think he's one of the finest musicians to ever grace the planet, and that made me anxious. But also I couldn't wait to meet him, to see him work, to help in any way I could. Plus, I knew that I would get to hear some of the new material from the upcoming "Sluggo" CD. Cool. As I did my daily job, I hummed some of the hummable Mike tunes and felt giddy doing so. I felt so lucky to have this to look forward to. Nothing bothered me.
So I drove to Sacramento on Thursday the 24th of October, and caught a flight to LAX. My half-brother, who lives in Orange County, graciously put me up and even allowed use of his mini-van, so I was set! First destination: "dress rehearsal" in Van Nuys on Friday night. I braved the freeways and got massively lost, ending up at Magic fucking Mountain. Time for a gas station guy, which is always a good move. Eventually I arrived at a scary industrial zone with a nondescript sign reading "Sound Arena". I walked in and inquired as to the location of BFD. The chaotic strains of other bands mixed in a cacophony as I proceeded to "studio" B, where I opened the door to find the Keneallymeister and band cranking out "Cause of Breakfast". Gulp. I knew no one. The first and only non-band member I recognized was, interestingly, Richard Pike, who looked like the friendly lion from The Wizard of Oz. I introduced myself and parked my butt on the floor, trying to be unobtrusive while I gawked at the band chugging along. It was like reading a really great novel and then suddenly being thrust into the middle of the fictional world you've been immersed in. Heady stuff. Eventually Bryan waved at me and mouthed some form of recognition. I guess I looked like me. More likely, I was the only person who looked like a deer facing oncoming headlights. [Ed. note--even more likely, you were the only guy I didn't recognize, but the deer thing helped as well--BB] Mike came over at some point and shook my hand and smiled at my meek apologies for being late. Yes, Brad Dahl--if not God, he is surely the Jesus of cool.
At first break, I dispensed hellos and various gifts that I made for the band: bootleg tapes from my own collection, tailored hopefully to the tastes of these brilliant musicians. [Ed. note--thanks again for the Jaco bootleg--BB] I also gave Mike a stuffed Dolphin for his daughter. This seemed to go over well and my anxiety subsided as I met all the BFD'ers. Later, Michael Harrison, a fascinating guy, showed some of the film footage that he was going to project behind the band at the gig. Very cool and hilarious stuff, with Mike's angular humor oozing out of the images and text that was flashing on the screens. The rehearsal continued, with Mike seeming in very, very fine form, whipping out amazing solo line after solo line. I took digital pictures and helped with monitor levels when needed. Later at the end, I helped the keyboardist, Marc Ziegenhagen [Ed. note--even with Keneally riding him extra-hard, new-guy-style, Ziegenhagen was simply a genius during the show. You all need to hear this guy play--BB], deconstruct his keyboard setup and took notes on his rig for later recall. After discussing logistics and times for show day with Mike and Bryan, I headed back to my sibling's abode, excitedly anticipating the actual gig.
Show Day
After much driving and squinting, I found the Troubadour the next afternoon in West Hollywood and parked. I was early this time, so I walked around Beverly Hills a bit and waited for the BFD van convoy to arrive. After loading in, the customary soundcheck insanity ensued. Here was the plan: 5 bands, an hour per band. Sheer ugliness with piles of gear to move in and out. Luckily, the crew at the Troubadour was way efficient and all seemed to go mostly according to plan. I laughed listening to Mike's account of listening to a tape of a 1968 interview of Franz Zappa that someone gave him THAT DAY, in which FZ related a 1966 gig at the Troubadour with Ray Collins and Roy Estrada. Mike said Frank remarked something like "I don't go there anymore--it's disgusting." Synchronicity. After a few hours of soundcheck "fun", all of us (minus kick-ass drummer Joe Travers, sorry Joe) decided to proceed to a Mexican restaurant for a communal feast. In convoy style, I followed Richard Pike's car until a few red lights later, at which point I was hopelessly lost. Fuck! Luckily, Dennis [who was my tech for the show, and a damn good one at that--BB], the van driving guy behind me, knew where he was going and safely navigated us to Ernie's Mexican Restaurant, where we were to dine. When we were about to enter, Bryan got asked to help an older couple, who had left their lights on and need a jump. Being a good Samaritan, Bryan provided the needed automotive assistance and won many karma points, which he surely needs. [Ed. note-- yep--BB]
Inside, we ate, drank and laughed. Pike tried many times to communicate his need for non-meat based food to little success. The waiter wasn't very convincing when he was asked about the ingredients of some of the dishes on the menu. The menu itself was a source of amusement. The description of the "Skylab" burrito (a huge edible thing so named, I joked, because of its tendency to fall to earth eventually) contained the cryptic phrase "bits of green". Bits of green what? Pike spun tales of comparative porn shopping around the globe, much to our amusement (although Mike had to warn Richard of the minors a few booths down whose innocence could've been shattered right then and there if we were too loud). Later some computer/internet/Macintosh questions were posed to me and I rambled on like Martha Stewart on meth at a wallpaper convention. I took a few more pictures at dinner and repeated the famous MK line: "You know what I like about this? EVERYTHING." Mike picked up the tab (thanks Mike) and I convoyed to Beller's apartment where I catnapped for a few hours. Later, around Bryan's kitchen table, Michael Harrison and I discussed technology and music stuff and helped Bryan decide between two shitty suit jackets, like it really mattered. I even showed him how to tie a tie, bringing back traumatic days of working as a bag boy at Alpha Beta.
So we arrived back at the Troubadour in fighting form. We needed to endure two tribute bands before MK/BFD. The first up was a Rush tribute band, then next a Led Zep tribute band. Both were quite proficient at achieving their objectives and the crowd and myself were duly amused and entertained. However, I still think that the gong and kettle drum placed behind the bogus Bonham clone were unnecessary props. Get paper mache' ones next time, OK? The "Whole Lotta Love" theramin bit was kinda cool though.
Note to self: a cool name for a band - Uma Theramin
Later, I spotted Keneally wading through the crowd, complete in full-on Mikey garb: long leather jacket, cool jazzbo t-shirt and the famous hat hat. We exchanged hello glances and an aborted high-five as I prepared for my roadie gig. I set-up my DAT machine for bootleg-age, emptied my digital camera, and waited for the appropriate time to frantically setup Marc's keyboard gear. Again, the Troubadour's crew worked diligently and we made the changeover in about 10 minutes--not bad! Pike gave me some advice on creating an orderly onstage walk-through area, and so I recabled and duct taped some cords to achieve Pike-osity. I like Richard very much, he is a total pro, with a disposition well suited to the madness that is live rock and roll. Thanks for your inspiration Mr. Pike. Anyway, Mike came onstage, monitor levels were tweaked slightly, and the show began in earnest.
I recall the first magic moments of "Cardboard Dog", with Harrison's 16mm visuals providing just the right emotional spice. Mike claimed that Beller called him a "stone fool" for starting out with "Cardboard Dog". [Ed. note--I did say such a thing, but I turned out to be totally wrong--BB]. It is indeed a mother of a song, with keyboardist Marc having to cop some truly scary dual-unison FZ-like phrases in the middle (despite the inevitable less-then-optimum monitor conditions that bless first songs on a multi-band gig) ......is this a mondo run-on sentence or what?!? [Yet another Ed. note--seems OK to me, but maybe you're asking the wrong guy--BB]. Anyway, they nailed it and the crowd responded positively. I watched Marc for any problems and shot pictures while the gig continued, totally in awe of these fine, fine musicians. I'm not sure if they are truly aware of how good they really are. On any given night, these guys could possibly be the best band operating on the planet today. No shit.
So the show continued, with my favorite moments being the MK solo in "the Car Song", with Mike splitting the place in two and trading inhuman licks with Marc. I also enjoyed the Harrison visual of a chair occurring during the cover of the Blood Sweat and Tears classic "You Make Me So Very Happy". I never quite got the connection but it made me chuckle nonetheless. Maybe that's the point. [Ed. note--'twas--BB]
After the gig ended, I went to work tearing down and packing up Marc's setup. Later I exchanged e-mail addresses, hugs and goodbyes to my new buddies in the MK/BFD corporate structure. Mike gave me a heartfelt hug and suggested that we would indeed work again someday, to which I could only respond with a stunned "Wow...thanks!". Many pictures were taken and I hopped in the mini-van at 3:00 a.m. Driving the semi-empty freeway to Orange County, I felt so elated that I wept (I'm not afraid to say I do cry often when I feel emotional) a bit on the ride home. I listened to the DAT when I got back and was so buzzed by the whole experience that I didn't fall asleep until 5:30. Needless to say, my circadian rhythm was pounding out an uneven ska/polka the next day.
In the words of the infamous nattily attired bassboy Beller, "I'd do it again."
Thanks muchly to all in the BFD universe! Special thanks again to Mike for his trust and generosity. The world is a better place with him in it.
Enjoy the taste of a bit of green.
Reporting from Orange County,
Christian Heilman
_______________________
Not bad, eh? Once again, mondo thanks to Mr. Christian Heilman for taking the time to write this report. Very nice touch with the "I know what you're thinking" intro, don't you think?
Next time, I'll deliver on my "Sluggo!" promise. By then, maybe some of you will actually have heard the CD. How weird.
With endless thanks and appreciation,
The Bassboy Number Sixty-Nine
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