A FAIL Story...

I was thinking about my most embarrassing moments on stage a few days ago, and remembered one I had tucked way back into the deep recesses of my mind...

I'm 19...Bourbon Street in NOLA...I had been with this band for a couple of weeks. It was a full 7 piece band (bass, guitar, vocals, drums, and 3 horns) and we played alot of top 40 schlock (EWF, James Brown, Gap Band, etc...). Great group and I was the youngest BY FAR...next closest to my age was mid twenties and the oldest was 50-something...and I was GREEN...so green...we're talkin' neon-too-green-to-look-at green...it was bad. But I was learning.

The biggest deal for me was knowledge of the set list. most of the songs we were playing had been hits before I was even a twinkle in the eye of my parents. Lots of catchup for me...the list was roughly 50 tunes deep and I knew maybe 5 coming into it.

Anyways, back to the memory...we played a version of "Smooth" by Carlos Santana. In the middle we went into a horn break and the rhythm section went into a Samba type feel...simple, right? I had never rehearsed it with them, they just told me about the section on the break and we were gonna go into it live...

Middle of the second verse...palms are sweaty...hearts racing...

That particular section comes barreling at me and I throw in a fill to lead into the Samba section...uh-oh...something is horribly wrong...the horns are falling out one by one...the bass player is hollering something at me...everyone's glaring at yours truly...this went on for roughly 3 hours. Ok, maybe about 5 seconds...nonetheless, it was a long time in my mind. Finally the guitarist kicked his amp and crashed into the chorus....slowly everyone stumbled back into the tune...

What happened?

I had committed the carnal latin sin...I had REVERSED THE SAMBA!!! (cue dramatic music and gasps)

Instead of boom-chick-boomboom-chick-boom...it was chick-boomboom-chick-boomboom...that's what they were yelling...the horns thought they were lost, the bass player was trying to get me to turn it back around, and the guitarist probably would have shot me had the opportunity presented itself.

I slithered defeatedly out the door on our break to assume my spot on the outside wall...that's where I watched all of the street craziness happen...

Bobby O (sax player...he used to run a few big bands at Disney World) came outside after a while and leaned on the wall next to me...silent...saying nothing...or was he yelling? The silence was quite loud, having trouble remembering...

I stumbled through some sort of an apology. He kindly (which wasn't his nature) said,"Don't worry about it. That happens. You wanna know what the worst part was?"

There was a worse part than the embarrassment I was feeling at this moment?!

"What?" I asked slowly...

"Raymond Weber had just walked through the door to check us out."

This was bad. This was real bad. I knew for a fact that Raymond had heard about the new kid on the street and had come to check me out...why this night? Why that song? WHY?!?!?!

Raymond was a local drumming god...played with Harry Connick Jr, Dave Matthews, lots of others...I had been planning on impressing him since I had moved down.

Impress I did...I mean, not a good impression, but I'm sure I made some sort of impression on him...

I was embarrassed for weeks...The whole time I lived in NOLA I never got the courage to strike up a conversation with Raymond because of that moment.

And what did I learn?

Work on your samba?

I probably learned what every other musician, or artist, or businessman, or entrepreneur learns...mistakes happen...sometimes in front of important people. Always have, always will. Accept it. Learn what you can from them. Drown your sorrows in twinkies and chocolate milk for a few days and make sure THAT mistake never happens again, then hold your head up high...

...and don't let past mistakes affect future relationships and progress...yea, I guess that's what I learned...

...and the Samba...I also learned my Samba inside and out the next day...