The night of the shredders
Friday, then, began very late - for the other three. I have the joy of hearing the parents arrive at the school to drop their progeny off for a day of education, starting at about 6:45am Monday to Friday. At that hour of the day their car horns are probably fully functional but apparently need further testing, and the one-lane road leading to the school is, evidently, the perfect place to sharpen those essential horn-pressing and dodgem-driving skills so necessary for daily survival in Beirut. I dozed a bit after the last stragglers had skidded and hooted their way off the mountain, but with the school bell ringing at 30 minute intervals, no further deep sleep was possible.
(A sage piece of advice: never leave your blog entry half completed and still in the editor when you have band mates using computers next to you - upon returning I found this little gem added to the previous paragraph: "Just so all of you are aware I'm a big silly poopy pants. Don't be afraid though kids love me and I can be pretty funny sometimes though it may be a bit infantile"!!!!!! Infantile????? I ask you!!!!!)
Part of morning was spent in quiet reading and 'shedding. This last word does not refer to the act of discarding a no-longer required hair covering (though that too was performed on this particular morning via a razor) but to the act of "wood shedding" - or practicing one's chosen instrument in private. I use this term in preference to "practicing" to convey to you just how cool and "integrated" into the music scene I have become. Hmmm.
Charles and I also risked our necks by taking a walk further up the mountain (in still essentially good weather) in search of a supermarket - a vain search in the end since all we could find were a couple of corner stores that didn't stock what we wanted (boxes of cereal and loaves of bread), a couple of patisseries and an inordinate number of gas stations and hole-in-the-wall junk shops.
Any health benefits derived from the bracing stroll were nullified by the tons of exhaust fumes that we inhaled during the excursion! The views were nice, though, excepting the severed bulls head hanging by its nostrils from the awning outside one of these stores (somebody needs to give the proprietors a lesson in marketing!).
Anyway, after "lunch" (the last of the ham purchased earlier in the week wrapped in the not-so-crispy crispy rolls we got from one of the patisseries) we had some excellent group time in discussion and prayer. Very encouraging indeed! After that we headed down to the computer lab to do emails and blogs, ending in the sudden sign-off that you saw two posts ago.
The taxi actually arrived about an hour later, and, true to form the driver had no idea who he was collecting nor where he was supposed to takes us! He did speak English though, so we managed to communicate, and, en route to Cherry's, he joked that he hoped our instrument cases truly contained instruments and not ordnance of any description. By this time the rain had well and truly settled in, but, despite that, we seemed to arrive quicker than the previous day with Wadih! The scene in the pub upon entry was completely different to the night before! There were already about 50 to 60 people there, mostly young guitarists and their possies. The sound system was half erected, and the other band scheduled to play an interlude spot was setting up their stuff. We mucked in to complete the setup and then agreed to take the interlude spot after the first round (a cunning ploy to play to more people - the first round would eliminate over half the guitarists who would then probably return home with their entourages, but the announcement of the eliminations would be after our intervention :-)).
Before competition started, we headed across the road (in the now torrential rain) to buy some groceries to tide us over until Monday, and to grab a bite to eat in what turned out to be a hookah restaurant - everybody there was smoking enormous hookahs of various scents, though we declined (counting on our second dose of secondary smoking in Cherrys later!).
Needless to say, the expected smoothness of the transition between each of 10 young Steve Vais (or choose your own guitar shredding hero) never transpired - each had their own particular effects pedal, and the pre-distributed tracks that they were to play along to were each EQd differently and had different volume levels. Added to that was the panel of professional musicians (some the top in their field in Lebanon) who were acting as judges, yelling at Wadih and the guitarists themselves to "lower the bass; bring up the guitar volume; change the mids". After a while these instructions were passed through one particular judge who resembled in both look and comportment Colonel Clink from Hogan's Heroes. I ended up as defacto pedal-changer to alleviate some of the congestion, though this didn't stop the first round running WAY over its allotted hour, and that after having started about an hour late too!
Though listening to 90 minutes of screaming guitar solos over the same selection of canned backing tracks is a bit wearing (even for the judges, as attested by Charles who was sitting and chatting with them), it cannot be denied that there was some serious talent on show - especially considering the age range which was 14 to 17! Every one of them had fantastic chops, but the real standouts understood that a solo consists of more than lightening scale playing - they displayed an understanding of the melodic and harmonic development of the ideas they were trying to convey. It was truly impressive, and having to follow them took some courage (I certainly admit that I personally am a LONG way from the musical maturity shown by some of these guys).
But we approached our slot of four songs (wisely having chosen 4 of the "hardest" sounding) in the best possible way - with outward confidence and assurance (whether or not we really FELT those things internally!) - and we hit big time. They loved us. The judges loved us (possibly because we DIDN'T play any screaming solos, but instead presented complete SONGS). We even got taped by the TV crew who had arrived at the tail end of round one, though what will become of that we have no idea. After we left the stage to roars of approval, Charles and Jon were mobbed for CDs and fan contact sheets - and those are the things that provide for lasting contacts from these tours, leading to deeper discussions and eventual conversions!
The rest of the evening passed off quietly - not! The 5 guitarists who made it through to the last round were subsequently required to play an improvised solo over a funk track that they had not heard before. For the later guitarists, this element of surprise was afforded by expelling them from the pub until it was their turn. After this final round the other band took the stage for - I am not making this up - a 20 minute guitar solo backed by the same four chords played over and over. I have no doubt that the band can play some truly good sounding stuff at a real concert (when they normally have a singer with them as well) but even THEY admitted that this was over doing it by a LOOONG way!!
During this eterno-solo, we were approached by the parents of one of the finalists because they had seen us at the Club Social last Saturday!! They told us how great it had been to hear us then, and how pleased they were to catch us again this evening!
With the solo-from-... well, not heaven anyway, mercifully over, the results were announced. The guitarist I thought should have won didn't (he came third) - but I stand by my assessment that he was by far the best musician (in the full sense of the word) of the lot.
The evening ended with friendly banter amongst the musicians and staff as we packed up Wadih's gear. Email addresses and Facebook IDs were exchanged, and I really think that Wadih, in particular, now has a reputation with Cherrys of provding the goods, and valuable new contacts, opening doors for later tours.
After stopping for smoothies, we dropped the gear off at the Doctor's Union (the location for Saturday's battle of the bands contest) and arrived back at the school at 3:30am. Well, at least Saturday morning there is no school so I won't have Mr Abdulah berating Mr Jones for not moving his vehicle fast enough after having dropped off Master Jones...
(A sage piece of advice: never leave your blog entry half completed and still in the editor when you have band mates using computers next to you - upon returning I found this little gem added to the previous paragraph: "Just so all of you are aware I'm a big silly poopy pants. Don't be afraid though kids love me and I can be pretty funny sometimes though it may be a bit infantile"!!!!!! Infantile????? I ask you!!!!!)
Part of morning was spent in quiet reading and 'shedding. This last word does not refer to the act of discarding a no-longer required hair covering (though that too was performed on this particular morning via a razor) but to the act of "wood shedding" - or practicing one's chosen instrument in private. I use this term in preference to "practicing" to convey to you just how cool and "integrated" into the music scene I have become. Hmmm.
Charles and I also risked our necks by taking a walk further up the mountain (in still essentially good weather) in search of a supermarket - a vain search in the end since all we could find were a couple of corner stores that didn't stock what we wanted (boxes of cereal and loaves of bread), a couple of patisseries and an inordinate number of gas stations and hole-in-the-wall junk shops.
Any health benefits derived from the bracing stroll were nullified by the tons of exhaust fumes that we inhaled during the excursion! The views were nice, though, excepting the severed bulls head hanging by its nostrils from the awning outside one of these stores (somebody needs to give the proprietors a lesson in marketing!).
Anyway, after "lunch" (the last of the ham purchased earlier in the week wrapped in the not-so-crispy crispy rolls we got from one of the patisseries) we had some excellent group time in discussion and prayer. Very encouraging indeed! After that we headed down to the computer lab to do emails and blogs, ending in the sudden sign-off that you saw two posts ago.
The taxi actually arrived about an hour later, and, true to form the driver had no idea who he was collecting nor where he was supposed to takes us! He did speak English though, so we managed to communicate, and, en route to Cherry's, he joked that he hoped our instrument cases truly contained instruments and not ordnance of any description. By this time the rain had well and truly settled in, but, despite that, we seemed to arrive quicker than the previous day with Wadih! The scene in the pub upon entry was completely different to the night before! There were already about 50 to 60 people there, mostly young guitarists and their possies. The sound system was half erected, and the other band scheduled to play an interlude spot was setting up their stuff. We mucked in to complete the setup and then agreed to take the interlude spot after the first round (a cunning ploy to play to more people - the first round would eliminate over half the guitarists who would then probably return home with their entourages, but the announcement of the eliminations would be after our intervention :-)).
Before competition started, we headed across the road (in the now torrential rain) to buy some groceries to tide us over until Monday, and to grab a bite to eat in what turned out to be a hookah restaurant - everybody there was smoking enormous hookahs of various scents, though we declined (counting on our second dose of secondary smoking in Cherrys later!).
Needless to say, the expected smoothness of the transition between each of 10 young Steve Vais (or choose your own guitar shredding hero) never transpired - each had their own particular effects pedal, and the pre-distributed tracks that they were to play along to were each EQd differently and had different volume levels. Added to that was the panel of professional musicians (some the top in their field in Lebanon) who were acting as judges, yelling at Wadih and the guitarists themselves to "lower the bass; bring up the guitar volume; change the mids". After a while these instructions were passed through one particular judge who resembled in both look and comportment Colonel Clink from Hogan's Heroes. I ended up as defacto pedal-changer to alleviate some of the congestion, though this didn't stop the first round running WAY over its allotted hour, and that after having started about an hour late too!
Though listening to 90 minutes of screaming guitar solos over the same selection of canned backing tracks is a bit wearing (even for the judges, as attested by Charles who was sitting and chatting with them), it cannot be denied that there was some serious talent on show - especially considering the age range which was 14 to 17! Every one of them had fantastic chops, but the real standouts understood that a solo consists of more than lightening scale playing - they displayed an understanding of the melodic and harmonic development of the ideas they were trying to convey. It was truly impressive, and having to follow them took some courage (I certainly admit that I personally am a LONG way from the musical maturity shown by some of these guys).
But we approached our slot of four songs (wisely having chosen 4 of the "hardest" sounding) in the best possible way - with outward confidence and assurance (whether or not we really FELT those things internally!) - and we hit big time. They loved us. The judges loved us (possibly because we DIDN'T play any screaming solos, but instead presented complete SONGS). We even got taped by the TV crew who had arrived at the tail end of round one, though what will become of that we have no idea. After we left the stage to roars of approval, Charles and Jon were mobbed for CDs and fan contact sheets - and those are the things that provide for lasting contacts from these tours, leading to deeper discussions and eventual conversions!
The rest of the evening passed off quietly - not! The 5 guitarists who made it through to the last round were subsequently required to play an improvised solo over a funk track that they had not heard before. For the later guitarists, this element of surprise was afforded by expelling them from the pub until it was their turn. After this final round the other band took the stage for - I am not making this up - a 20 minute guitar solo backed by the same four chords played over and over. I have no doubt that the band can play some truly good sounding stuff at a real concert (when they normally have a singer with them as well) but even THEY admitted that this was over doing it by a LOOONG way!!
During this eterno-solo, we were approached by the parents of one of the finalists because they had seen us at the Club Social last Saturday!! They told us how great it had been to hear us then, and how pleased they were to catch us again this evening!
With the solo-from-... well, not heaven anyway, mercifully over, the results were announced. The guitarist I thought should have won didn't (he came third) - but I stand by my assessment that he was by far the best musician (in the full sense of the word) of the lot.
The evening ended with friendly banter amongst the musicians and staff as we packed up Wadih's gear. Email addresses and Facebook IDs were exchanged, and I really think that Wadih, in particular, now has a reputation with Cherrys of provding the goods, and valuable new contacts, opening doors for later tours.
After stopping for smoothies, we dropped the gear off at the Doctor's Union (the location for Saturday's battle of the bands contest) and arrived back at the school at 3:30am. Well, at least Saturday morning there is no school so I won't have Mr Abdulah berating Mr Jones for not moving his vehicle fast enough after having dropped off Master Jones...
posted by Martin Bartlett at 2:02 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Martino, I'm enjoying these blogs as I usually have to wait for the Charles and Chris to let me know what happened about 5 months after the tour is over. I wish I was there...not to hear you guys...but the food - oh I love that Lebanese food(-:
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