August 9, 2008

formed a band

Filed under: Uncategorized, music, mr solo — mrsolo @ 7:48 am

So we the mr solo band had our first rehearsal in the snug of the basement somewhere in Stockwell. It’s a brilliant space. I mean if there were a studio practice room program where the sexy in a homely way lady came in and offered advise on how to improve things they would find no fault. None of the band members asked me to shove my cape up my bottom but Bummer (we’ll discuss that later) did produce a very large gold one from the boot (bottom) of his car. For a man that espouses the value of “no more signs” this presents a challenge as it is very hard not to see it as a good omen.

Dom actually got to the rehearsal space before me which threw me but did go along with the idea that I am not the leader of this band which we now know was formed by the spontaneous digital generation of a thread on facebook which we all coincidentally became part of. The band formed us – if we are all honest our lives are just a series of blurred snap shots not real histories. Dom had some lovely equipment not least of which was his wife’s theremin, which was manufactured with her name on. I think my wife might like one of those. Felt bad about making dom play the theremin at the same time as his baritone  guitar but by the end he was able to control it with the headstock (see wiki link – guitar parts).
Next came Rhodri who I have presumptuously started calling Rodders – which may in part be due to listening to live cricket on radio 4. I, may I just add, did not go to public school. Rhodri is playing bass and let it all hang out with a squelching synth bass line on the potential endless jam that is “let it all hang out”. My studio tan must have become paler when Rhodri shared his experience of writing for the guardian about auditioning for bands through adverts in loot. He said he has only ever received one email telling him he’s a bastard, which is a good sign – I have had many without writing about how shit the audience was in a national broadsheet. I digress – so it goes. I promise to learn the rap in let it all hang out by next practice.

Then we heard a voice calling through an open window and all that mobile monitoring was knocked into a cocked hat. I mean at one point Rhodri stopped the rehearsal to tell me my phone had gone onto screen saver. It was Richie and Bummer. Richie is a well-travelled musical veterean who resembles a sixth former so bright is his outlook. Bummer has had a haircut and he too looks pretty fresh faced (and he has a new baby!). Bummer is called bomber. When he first told me his name I was perplexed that a man should have such a down beat name but that I have a very good old friend – who did go to private school - called Bummo which was arrived at from the similarity of his surname to Commo as in Perry (are you getting all this?). So whilst rehearsing I can’t decide weather or not to continue with Bummer or Bomber and this results in calling him both at once. Bummer is a great drummer.

We finally depart at around half eleven which is good going and we all are now vaguely acquainted with at least half the album. Hoorah. I dropped the keys to the basement round at Helen’s and came home. Woke up having dreamt of an article in today’s guardian.

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