Poast your funny / scary / downright bizarre audition tales here
- Thread starter smurfco
- Start date
baimun
Funkasaurus Rex
I have two that are pretty funny....
A friend of a friend knew of a guy who was forming a band in Chicago and was looking for some guitar players so a friend and I both went out to jam with the guy.
We get there and the place is a very nice high-rise condo with gated security. We get buzzed in and up to this guy's place and it's pretty evident that this guy has some cash. He was sporting a very nice rolex and everything in the condo had the look and feel of money. I wonder if we're going to go someplace else to practice when he opens up the wall off the main living room. it may have originally been a dining room or such, but he's created a space with a raised floor and it's soundproofed all the way around. In the middle of the room is a stack of keyboards, some drums, and a couple guitar amps. We plug in and what starts to emit from his keyboard amp I can only describe as a cacophonous acid trip. I immediately knew why this guy was having a hard time finding musicians. Hellen Keller would have turned her nose up at this "music". We kept trying to put ourselves out of misery cut the session short, and the guy would just keep going "oh wait.. what about this one... you'll like this..."
At this point I realized that if he locked us in this soundproof room... I don't know if anyone would ever find us! Did I give my family enough details of where I was going? Oh gawd.... When we finally got free, we drove home like convicts on the run. 
The next group of guys weren't quite this bad... they were decidedly mediocre. They were looking for a guitarist and drummer to fill in for the two members who just departed. A friend and I went to the "tryout" on a Wednesday evening. We ran through 4 or 5 classic rock tunes and these two guys (singing guitar player and a bass player) say "You guys are great... you're hired!" They then give us a set list of 12 or 15 songs, most of which I didn't know, and said "The gig's on Saturday". ??? I figure... well, we should be able to fake it enough for a bar gig. "Bar gig? No... we're opening for Marie Osmond at the county fairgrounds in front of 3000 people." So my buddy and I bust ass and learn these songs. Day of the gig, these two guys are shaking in their boots and freaking out.... I'm thinking it's just because of the audience size... nope. They'd never played live before. Only house parties. 
We get on stage and within 10 seconds I realize that the lead singer/guitarist was too nervous to bother to tune his guitar. When we watched back the video, my buddy was laughing because as the show went on I moved further... and further... away from the duo. By the end of the gig, I was almost over by the mains. "I'm not with those two... I promise!" 
A friend of a friend knew of a guy who was forming a band in Chicago and was looking for some guitar players so a friend and I both went out to jam with the guy.
We get there and the place is a very nice high-rise condo with gated security. We get buzzed in and up to this guy's place and it's pretty evident that this guy has some cash. He was sporting a very nice rolex and everything in the condo had the look and feel of money. I wonder if we're going to go someplace else to practice when he opens up the wall off the main living room. it may have originally been a dining room or such, but he's created a space with a raised floor and it's soundproofed all the way around. In the middle of the room is a stack of keyboards, some drums, and a couple guitar amps. We plug in and what starts to emit from his keyboard amp I can only describe as a cacophonous acid trip. I immediately knew why this guy was having a hard time finding musicians. Hellen Keller would have turned her nose up at this "music". We kept trying to put ourselves out of misery cut the session short, and the guy would just keep going "oh wait.. what about this one... you'll like this..."
At this point I realized that if he locked us in this soundproof room... I don't know if anyone would ever find us! Did I give my family enough details of where I was going? Oh gawd.... When we finally got free, we drove home like convicts on the run. The next group of guys weren't quite this bad... they were decidedly mediocre. They were looking for a guitarist and drummer to fill in for the two members who just departed. A friend and I went to the "tryout" on a Wednesday evening. We ran through 4 or 5 classic rock tunes and these two guys (singing guitar player and a bass player) say "You guys are great... you're hired!" They then give us a set list of 12 or 15 songs, most of which I didn't know, and said "The gig's on Saturday". ??? I figure... well, we should be able to fake it enough for a bar gig. "Bar gig? No... we're opening for Marie Osmond at the county fairgrounds in front of 3000 people."
So my buddy and I bust ass and learn these songs. Day of the gig, these two guys are shaking in their boots and freaking out.... I'm thinking it's just because of the audience size... nope. They'd never played live before. Only house parties. We get on stage and within 10 seconds I realize that the lead singer/guitarist was too nervous to bother to tune his guitar. When we watched back the video, my buddy was laughing because as the show went on I moved further... and further... away from the duo. By the end of the gig, I was almost over by the mains. "I'm not with those two... I promise!" 
James Franciscus
Kick Henry Jackassowski
I auditioned for a film yesterday in which I played detective on a murder case. I finish the scene and the casting director says, "Oh by the way, your character's daughter was murdered in a similar case years before, so this impacts your what you do in the scene.
I say, "Ok. That's good to know. How about I do the scene again with this new and important information in mind?"
She says, "Yes. Do it again."
I start the scene again. Half way through the first page she stops me and says, "Oh, I'm sorry. I gave you the wrong information. That's the other character's information. Your character is flip and sarcastic."
I'm about to slap this bitch but that's bad etiquette. I did the scene again more like the first time (But better) and nailed it.
And people wonder why actors are bitter and angry. Christian Bail should have received the Nobel Prize for cursing out the camera guy for walking through his rehearsal.
I say, "Ok. That's good to know. How about I do the scene again with this new and important information in mind?"
She says, "Yes. Do it again."
I start the scene again. Half way through the first page she stops me and says, "Oh, I'm sorry. I gave you the wrong information. That's the other character's information. Your character is flip and sarcastic."
I'm about to slap this bitch but that's bad etiquette. I did the scene again more like the first time (But better) and nailed it.
And people wonder why actors are bitter and angry. Christian Bail should have received the Nobel Prize for cursing out the camera guy for walking through his rehearsal.
Last edited:
Gary Blanchard
beloved, local musician
Not a band audition, but a screwy gig audition back in the 1970's. There was a place in downtown Baltimore called the Peabody Book Shop and Beer Stube. It had been around for years and Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald and other luminaries hung out there in the past. I asked about playing and the woman who was the current owner told me I'd need to come down and perform for a couple of hours. When I got there I had to pay for my own sodas (poured from a 2 liter bottle with a price sticker of less than I as paying per drink); I did a two hour gig with good audience response. At the end of the night she offered me a job...cleaning out vacated apartments. :rolleyes:
smurfco
Meatus McPrepuce
We get there and the place is a very nice high-rise condo with gated security. We get buzzed in and up to this guy's place and it's pretty evident that this guy has some cash. He was sporting a very nice rolex and everything in the condo had the look and feel of money. I wonder if we're going to go someplace else to practice when he opens up the wall off the main living room. it may have originally been a dining room or such, but he's created a space with a raised floor and it's soundproofed all the way around. In the middle of the room is a stack of keyboards, some drums, and a couple guitar amps. We plug in and what starts to emit from his keyboard amp I can only describe as a cacophonous acid trip. I immediately knew why this guy was having a hard time finding musicians. Hellen Keller would have turned her nose up at this "music". We kept trying to put ourselves out of misery cut the session short, and the guy would just keep going "oh wait.. what about this one... you'll like this..."
I'll put this in the category of scary.
(I've told this story here before, but play along with the thread.)
I don't really have a band or a gig.
I do have some friends with a very successful cover band that tolerate me for one song every once in a while.
They knew I played guitar. Rather they knew I HAD guitars. They've been to my house and saw most of them.
So, they always bugged me to get up and play.
One day, while at a house party last year, the singer says, "We're playing on May 2. That's 2 weeks. You're getting up and playing."
In front of everyone at the party, I say "OK".
I checked with one of the guitarists in the band to see if it was cool. It was. I told him I was bringing my own guitar for the comfort level.
Friends came with us for dinner before the show. We actually got there a little late and I had to toss my guitar on stage during their first set.
The guitarist came over during their first break and told me when they'd call me up in the second set.
I hadn't gotten through half of my first beer for fear that I'd get sloshed and completely mess it up. I wasn't really nervous, but I would have been happy for a reason to not do it.
Here's the scary part.
I had never played an entire song before. (Except for practicing this one song with a play along track over the previous two weeks).
I had never played in front of people before. I don't mean in public. I mean no one. Ever. If someone came into the room while I was playing at home, I'd stop.
We did not rehearse the song.
THEY HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD ME PLAY.
I expected the guitarist whose part I was playing to stay plugged in and play along.
No. He gave me his wireless transmitter and picked up the tambourine. He also sang his backup vocal part which is good because I haven't figured out how to play and sing.
The drummer counted us in and I made the first noise with a guitar on stage ever.
It worked out, but it was scary.
So, for the sake of the thread, we'll call it an audition that was trial by fire.
I've since sat in with them about a dozen times - each one progressively worse than the first time.
The last time was a complete train wreck.
(I've told this story here before, but play along with the thread.)
I don't really have a band or a gig.
I do have some friends with a very successful cover band that tolerate me for one song every once in a while.
They knew I played guitar. Rather they knew I HAD guitars. They've been to my house and saw most of them.
So, they always bugged me to get up and play.
One day, while at a house party last year, the singer says, "We're playing on May 2. That's 2 weeks. You're getting up and playing."
In front of everyone at the party, I say "OK".
I checked with one of the guitarists in the band to see if it was cool. It was. I told him I was bringing my own guitar for the comfort level.
Friends came with us for dinner before the show. We actually got there a little late and I had to toss my guitar on stage during their first set.
The guitarist came over during their first break and told me when they'd call me up in the second set.
I hadn't gotten through half of my first beer for fear that I'd get sloshed and completely mess it up. I wasn't really nervous, but I would have been happy for a reason to not do it.
Here's the scary part.
I had never played an entire song before. (Except for practicing this one song with a play along track over the previous two weeks).
I had never played in front of people before. I don't mean in public. I mean no one. Ever. If someone came into the room while I was playing at home, I'd stop.
We did not rehearse the song.
THEY HAD NEVER EVEN HEARD ME PLAY.
I expected the guitarist whose part I was playing to stay plugged in and play along.
No. He gave me his wireless transmitter and picked up the tambourine. He also sang his backup vocal part which is good because I haven't figured out how to play and sing.
The drummer counted us in and I made the first noise with a guitar on stage ever.
It worked out, but it was scary.
So, for the sake of the thread, we'll call it an audition that was trial by fire.
I've since sat in with them about a dozen times - each one progressively worse than the first time.
The last time was a complete train wreck.
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
I posted this one at TGP:
Years later I decided to go for an audition on the advice of a guy I knew who saw an ad in the City pages (again) and I should check it out since he wanted progressive players.
When I got there I was flabbergasted to find out the guy lived in an actual mansion near Lake Minnetonka (basically in Wayzata - a very affluent suburb of Minneapolis).
He said he had problems finding people who could play complicated music and preferred people who could read and write music - I was slow at that but my ear usually was able to compensate. He said his last guitarist had to take the bus to his place.
From his discussion, it was his parents place (he was in his 30s) and the basement (fully furnished out) was his. He had a crapload of expensive gear: Rickenbacker 8-string bass, another expensive 4-string, Martin 6 and 12 string acoustics, expensive amps, and a full home entertainment setup with a hi-def plasma screen years before I saw anyone else with one. Money was not a concern with this guy.
We jammed and it seemed to go reasonably well and then asked if I wanted to hear his demo tape of songs. He basically sang every vocal part and played every instrument and oddly most of the songs were about his ex-girlfriend who had committed suicide and one of the songs actually had an excerpt of her last answering machine message to him on it. I could tell he was really talented but perhaps a little tortured. Then it was my turn for show and tell and played some of my stuff.
He seemed to like it (he commented that I was a strong soloist) but was reluctant to work with me because he wanted to do a thing where we'd write down the music in notation and then send sheets back and forth in the mail which I thought was an odd way to work on music. Written notation is my least proficiency as far as music goes.
He had a huge backlog of music he wanted to record but I never found out if he found a crew to work with or not.
I found out later that my friend who recommended I check that out had seen that ad repeatedly over the years over and over again and since he was a bassist himself couldn't find out what the guys deal was but knew that if I checked it out he'd find out what the guys deal was all about.
Years later I decided to go for an audition on the advice of a guy I knew who saw an ad in the City pages (again) and I should check it out since he wanted progressive players.
When I got there I was flabbergasted to find out the guy lived in an actual mansion near Lake Minnetonka (basically in Wayzata - a very affluent suburb of Minneapolis).
He said he had problems finding people who could play complicated music and preferred people who could read and write music - I was slow at that but my ear usually was able to compensate. He said his last guitarist had to take the bus to his place.
From his discussion, it was his parents place (he was in his 30s) and the basement (fully furnished out) was his. He had a crapload of expensive gear: Rickenbacker 8-string bass, another expensive 4-string, Martin 6 and 12 string acoustics, expensive amps, and a full home entertainment setup with a hi-def plasma screen years before I saw anyone else with one. Money was not a concern with this guy.
We jammed and it seemed to go reasonably well and then asked if I wanted to hear his demo tape of songs. He basically sang every vocal part and played every instrument and oddly most of the songs were about his ex-girlfriend who had committed suicide and one of the songs actually had an excerpt of her last answering machine message to him on it. I could tell he was really talented but perhaps a little tortured. Then it was my turn for show and tell and played some of my stuff.
He seemed to like it (he commented that I was a strong soloist) but was reluctant to work with me because he wanted to do a thing where we'd write down the music in notation and then send sheets back and forth in the mail which I thought was an odd way to work on music. Written notation is my least proficiency as far as music goes.
He had a huge backlog of music he wanted to record but I never found out if he found a crew to work with or not.
I found out later that my friend who recommended I check that out had seen that ad repeatedly over the years over and over again and since he was a bassist himself couldn't find out what the guys deal was but knew that if I checked it out he'd find out what the guys deal was all about.
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
One more:
I've got a million of them but these are some great stories here.
My band had extended bouts of the "great drummer search" and at another time "the great bass player search".
-during the great bass player search we got a call from a friend of an acquaintance who played bass who wondered if we were fine with him dressing up in ladies stockings and mascara. We said we didn't care if he painted himself blue and covered himself in tinsel as long as he could play.
-lo and behold he could play (and dressed normally without makeup but I think he just wanted to see what we would say) but he had an annoying tendency to veer off course during a song if he found it boring and turn that song into interstellar overdrive by Pink Floyd.
-It got to the point where I anticipated he would do this and then I riffed into it too once and he absolutely went into orbit musically at that point - I might even have a tape of this happening somewhere.
No he didn't get the nod but it was fun....ONCE.
The odd thing, years later we saw him playing in a band with a fretless bass that was like, imagine "The Cure" (the Robert Smith fronted alt-rock outfit) with a bass player as sophisticated as Percy Jones of the fusion band "Brand X". It was literally insane but enjoyable. It was drums, him on bass and vocals and a guitarist who was almost superfluous.
I've got a million of them but these are some great stories here.
My band had extended bouts of the "great drummer search" and at another time "the great bass player search".
-during the great bass player search we got a call from a friend of an acquaintance who played bass who wondered if we were fine with him dressing up in ladies stockings and mascara. We said we didn't care if he painted himself blue and covered himself in tinsel as long as he could play.
-lo and behold he could play (and dressed normally without makeup but I think he just wanted to see what we would say) but he had an annoying tendency to veer off course during a song if he found it boring and turn that song into interstellar overdrive by Pink Floyd.
-It got to the point where I anticipated he would do this and then I riffed into it too once and he absolutely went into orbit musically at that point - I might even have a tape of this happening somewhere.
No he didn't get the nod but it was fun....ONCE.
The odd thing, years later we saw him playing in a band with a fretless bass that was like, imagine "The Cure" (the Robert Smith fronted alt-rock outfit) with a bass player as sophisticated as Percy Jones of the fusion band "Brand X". It was literally insane but enjoyable. It was drums, him on bass and vocals and a guitarist who was almost superfluous.
smurfco
Meatus McPrepuce
Do you mean that metaphorically as in he'd get psychedelic and jammy, or do you mean he'd literally go into Interstellar Overdrive specifically?
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
One more:
-During the great drummer search we found this guy thru the local City Pages (alternative weekly with bandmates wanted ads) and said we could jam at his companies' space as there was "plenty of room".
It ended up being the CLEAN ROOM of an electronics manufacturer.
That raised everybodys eyebrows.
His drumkit make Mike Portnoy of Dream Theaters look SMALL by comparison, it was a huge, enormous rack kit with double bass, two floor toms, ten rack toms, six roto toms, then this second row of double cymbals (so 10) around the tops of the toms then he had all this percussion. It probably took two hours just to set it up.
We were playing instrumental prog-ish stuff and sending people tapes a week prior to the try-out just to see how it worked out since our stuff probably required woodshedding to play. So we jammed with the guy.
This guy attacked the drumkit like a complete maniac. It was FREAKING LOUD in that clean room because it was like an anechoic chamber. It was too much. Probably twice our stage volume at the biggest venue we ever played. It killed us.
He'd been a pro player once and had stopped for a number of years as he'd gotten married and had a kid or two and had just gotten back into it. His energy was high but his precision was not really there yet. We needed someone to be on point sooner.
He didn't make the cut either ...
-During the great drummer search we found this guy thru the local City Pages (alternative weekly with bandmates wanted ads) and said we could jam at his companies' space as there was "plenty of room".
It ended up being the CLEAN ROOM of an electronics manufacturer.
That raised everybodys eyebrows.
His drumkit make Mike Portnoy of Dream Theaters look SMALL by comparison, it was a huge, enormous rack kit with double bass, two floor toms, ten rack toms, six roto toms, then this second row of double cymbals (so 10) around the tops of the toms then he had all this percussion. It probably took two hours just to set it up.
We were playing instrumental prog-ish stuff and sending people tapes a week prior to the try-out just to see how it worked out since our stuff probably required woodshedding to play. So we jammed with the guy.
This guy attacked the drumkit like a complete maniac. It was FREAKING LOUD in that clean room because it was like an anechoic chamber. It was too much. Probably twice our stage volume at the biggest venue we ever played. It killed us.
He'd been a pro player once and had stopped for a number of years as he'd gotten married and had a kid or two and had just gotten back into it. His energy was high but his precision was not really there yet. We needed someone to be on point sooner.
He didn't make the cut either ...
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
He literally would make every bass line he played into Interstellar Overdrive by Pink Floyd. He loved Floyd and especially loved that song and would try to sneak that line into EVERYTHING he played.
All of a sudden you'd hear that characteristic descending line and he'd speed up and the drummer would follow and catastrophe would ensue.
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
This one and one more (because I'm about value or I've played with every weirdo in town?)
Because I live in Minneapolis you're bound to bump into people who have either known, jammed with, been influenced by or had some kind of association with Prince.
During the great drummer search we managed to get clued into this guy who wanted musicians to play with and we decided to meet. It was inconclusive if we were going to play with this guy or just meet him but we went. We'd send him a demo tape though. He supposedly had either worked with Prince, went to school with him too and/or been in bands with him.
We ended up going to a neighborhood in south minneapolis that seemed normal enough.
We rang the doorbell. Nothing.
We knocked on the door. Nothing.
We knocked on a side door. Curtains moved, eyes were briefly visible. Then nothing.
We knocked again after waiting a minute and the guy answered.
It was a tall, medium build black man dressed up like Sun Ra about to go on stage.
Like, rainbow tainted fabrics - like he was ready to take part in a video shoot with jewels and all. Just for the record: we're three geeky white guys from the suburbs.
We get ushered in and he shows us his kitchen where on the table he's got a portfolio of all of the costumes and clothing he's designed for people like Prince, the Time and his own acts.
During the time we speak to him we get the idea that his thought processes move in and out of clarity - he goes from being totally with it to being rather spacey and out of it. Was he just "imagining" all of this or what?
Then he goes "but you're here for the music!" and ushers us to his basement where he's got a fully professional recording studio, vocal booth, mixing console, mics, drumkit, eventide harmonizer and more. It was totally at odds with the spacey "might not be a musician" vibe he gave off a few minutes previous.
He sits down behind the kit and basically nails the complex latin-style drum parts to a tune on our tape called "Captains of Industry" and he nails the parts with verve and apomb. He's terrific.
We spend a little bit more talking with him about potentially, say, jamming (the original reason for showing up at his place) but he starts getting scattered again once he puts the sticks down and says he'll call us when he gets some idea of when he might be able to do this.
We never did hear from him again and we never did hear if he did anything after that either.
Because I live in Minneapolis you're bound to bump into people who have either known, jammed with, been influenced by or had some kind of association with Prince.
During the great drummer search we managed to get clued into this guy who wanted musicians to play with and we decided to meet. It was inconclusive if we were going to play with this guy or just meet him but we went. We'd send him a demo tape though. He supposedly had either worked with Prince, went to school with him too and/or been in bands with him.
We ended up going to a neighborhood in south minneapolis that seemed normal enough.
We rang the doorbell. Nothing.
We knocked on the door. Nothing.
We knocked on a side door. Curtains moved, eyes were briefly visible. Then nothing.
We knocked again after waiting a minute and the guy answered.
It was a tall, medium build black man dressed up like Sun Ra about to go on stage.
Like, rainbow tainted fabrics - like he was ready to take part in a video shoot with jewels and all. Just for the record: we're three geeky white guys from the suburbs.
We get ushered in and he shows us his kitchen where on the table he's got a portfolio of all of the costumes and clothing he's designed for people like Prince, the Time and his own acts.
During the time we speak to him we get the idea that his thought processes move in and out of clarity - he goes from being totally with it to being rather spacey and out of it. Was he just "imagining" all of this or what?
Then he goes "but you're here for the music!" and ushers us to his basement where he's got a fully professional recording studio, vocal booth, mixing console, mics, drumkit, eventide harmonizer and more. It was totally at odds with the spacey "might not be a musician" vibe he gave off a few minutes previous.
He sits down behind the kit and basically nails the complex latin-style drum parts to a tune on our tape called "Captains of Industry" and he nails the parts with verve and apomb. He's terrific.
We spend a little bit more talking with him about potentially, say, jamming (the original reason for showing up at his place) but he starts getting scattered again once he puts the sticks down and says he'll call us when he gets some idea of when he might be able to do this.
We never did hear from him again and we never did hear if he did anything after that either.
aliensporebomb
Fretted instrument fan
Last one:
The Great Bass Player Search continued:
A guy shows up to rehearse with us to potentially join the band with a Acoustic brand 120 watt head and a Hartke 8x10 setup and Guild Pilot bass. But before he plugs his bass in, he opens his backpack and takes a 25 foot long cable that was about two inches thick (like a cable for running pro lighting) and runs it from behind his speaker cabinets to underneath a chair.
The cable, in effect, on both ends is connected to nothing. He can play like the dickens but when asked about it said "for effect" and winked.
He didn't get the gig for other reasons but that one still makes me laugh.
The Great Bass Player Search continued:
A guy shows up to rehearse with us to potentially join the band with a Acoustic brand 120 watt head and a Hartke 8x10 setup and Guild Pilot bass. But before he plugs his bass in, he opens his backpack and takes a 25 foot long cable that was about two inches thick (like a cable for running pro lighting) and runs it from behind his speaker cabinets to underneath a chair.
The cable, in effect, on both ends is connected to nothing. He can play like the dickens but when asked about it said "for effect" and winked.
He didn't get the gig for other reasons but that one still makes me laugh.
smurfco
Meatus McPrepuce
I don't know why but that strikes me as being tremendously funny.
You're sitting there playing Dock Of The Bay or some shit and all of the sudden...
dumm dumm dun-dan-dun, dumm dumm dun-dan-dun dahhhhhhhhhhh
Modern Saint
Starve your Fear, Feed your Dream!
I believe that my son was a few years old and I did not want to be part of any project until he was at least 5. Well I saw an ad and the band was only a mile away from where we lived. So I told my wife I didn't want play with anyone until Jr was at least 5 but can't pass on an opportunity if it is only a mile away.
So I call them up and got their setlist and something in the back of my head was telling me not to do it. On their set list was Stairway To Heaven which is a Red Flag. Well it is only a mile away.... I spoke to the bassist and he was very sincere and I said: "What the hell, it is only a mile away." So the day came for the audition and I arrived at a nice looking town home. As I entered the home it was very clean and nicely decored as it was the drummers place who was female - no biggie. The rehearsal space was down the stairs in a decent sized type auxiliary room. The room was used for her kids to play in and could be used for a game room if one chose to. It also led into the garage so loading in and out was easy.
So I brought my stuff in, was introduced to everyone and I don't remember what song we first played but I was ready to bail after 4 bars. Of the 17 or songs on their list, they knew about 5 and done very poorly. The female drummer who talked a great game while I was setting up, didn't even know how to count in a song. She has only one beat and threw in a world of fills that would make a metronome cringe. The bassist who I spoke to on the phone was a beginner who infused incorrect thumping noises - so much for seasoned. The only good player was keyboard who kept where did you get this guy from as I played all of their tunes with no issue. I even gave them the simple test of playing Breakdown and it was so bad that Tom Petty's ears would have a high pitch ring half way around the world wondering why.
After 45 minutes (kept looking at my watch) of sonic torture I told them I had be somewhere and thanks for the jam. I escaped as fast as I could they if I wanted to join. I said let me think about it so the bassist said he would call. He did a few days later and obviously I said no.
I guess while distance is a concern to me, I just couldn't believe that I was stupid enough to audition considering the setlist and Stairway to Heaven. The musical blues of not playing with anyone for a couple of years really affected my senses. That along with being a new father really had an effect.
After all, it was a mile away...
So I call them up and got their setlist and something in the back of my head was telling me not to do it. On their set list was Stairway To Heaven which is a Red Flag. Well it is only a mile away.... I spoke to the bassist and he was very sincere and I said: "What the hell, it is only a mile away." So the day came for the audition and I arrived at a nice looking town home. As I entered the home it was very clean and nicely decored as it was the drummers place who was female - no biggie. The rehearsal space was down the stairs in a decent sized type auxiliary room. The room was used for her kids to play in and could be used for a game room if one chose to. It also led into the garage so loading in and out was easy.
So I brought my stuff in, was introduced to everyone and I don't remember what song we first played but I was ready to bail after 4 bars. Of the 17 or songs on their list, they knew about 5 and done very poorly. The female drummer who talked a great game while I was setting up, didn't even know how to count in a song
. She has only one beat and threw in a world of fills that would make a metronome cringe. The bassist who I spoke to on the phone was a beginner who infused incorrect thumping noises - so much for seasoned. The only good player was keyboard who kept where did you get this guy from as I played all of their tunes with no issue. I even gave them the simple test of playing Breakdown and it was so bad that Tom Petty's ears would have a high pitch ring half way around the world wondering why. After 45 minutes (kept looking at my watch) of sonic torture I told them I had be somewhere and thanks for the jam. I escaped as fast as I could they if I wanted to join. I said let me think about it so the bassist said he would call. He did a few days later and obviously I said no.
I guess while distance is a concern to me, I just couldn't believe that I was stupid enough to audition considering the setlist and Stairway to Heaven. The musical blues of not playing with anyone for a couple of years really affected my senses. That along with being a new father really had an effect.
After all, it was a mile away...
smurfco
Meatus McPrepuce
That is the worst too. When you know almost immediately that it's not gonna happen but you're booked for a two hour jam.
It's always worse in my case because I can't drive off - I've usually gotten a ride there with someone. But even if I could, I don't think I'm big enough of a dick to play one song, be like "nope!" and leave. That'd take balls that I just don't have.
It's always worse in my case because I can't drive off - I've usually gotten a ride there with someone. But even if I could, I don't think I'm big enough of a dick to play one song, be like "nope!" and leave. That'd take balls that I just don't have.
mongooz
.
there was a band i played in for about 5 or 6 years, and it was a very good classic rock band. i got in the band because one of the guitarists was leaving, getting married, etc.
so i was friends with the other guitar player and he says "come on out and sit in for a few songs". so i do, and it turns into nearly every friday and saturday night for 5 or 6 songs each night for like 3 MONTHS. so when the guitarist does leave, the bass player decides "no.....we HAVE to have auditions". what the frick.....what the hell was i doing for three months.
well, they advertise, audition guys, make me audition (last)......and at the end of the audition they say "yea, your in. besides you already know more than half the song list".
DUH!!!
so i was friends with the other guitar player and he says "come on out and sit in for a few songs". so i do, and it turns into nearly every friday and saturday night for 5 or 6 songs each night for like 3 MONTHS. so when the guitarist does leave, the bass player decides "no.....we HAVE to have auditions". what the frick.....what the hell was i doing for three months.
well, they advertise, audition guys, make me audition (last)......and at the end of the audition they say "yea, your in. besides you already know more than half the song list".
DUH!!!