"Singer Looking for a Band... Call Me"

A rocky start towards live musicianship

I'm one of the many musicians who live in my area. A lot of us have enjoyed and witnessed a strange, magical transition from a sleepy, tourist town with very limited opportunities for musicians and limited music venues to enjoy music, and watch it explode into a full-blown craft brewery, small music venue, live-music oasis out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Oregon.

My first real experience in performing live music took place in Bend, Oregon, around 1997. A couple of years earlier, I was honorably discharged from the US Navy. While in the service, I learned how to play the guitar, how to tune it, and I get to know the basics. I’d sit on the port side breezeway of a warship out in the middle of the Pacific, gathering short lessons from others who knew how to play.

I was so much interested in singing that the first thing I bought when I was checking out of the military from Treasure Island was a microphone. I thought, if I wanted to be a singer, I had better get a microphone. Only industry standard would do, “of course, a Shure SM58 mic,” said the attendant at the music instrument store on Haight Ashbury Street, downtown San Francisco.

That week I was preparing to go back home and begin my new life as an adult civilian during the early summer of 1995. That was such a magical time. I fulfilled the obligation that I signed up to do 4 years prior and was heading back home to Bend, Oregon, to start a new life in college. In my mind, I was convinced that I'd be going to class and then playing in some sort of band, maybe punk, maybe rock… who knew?

When I arrived back in Bend, I decided to go to a specific building I had visited before I joined the military. I told myself back in 1991, patting the eastern wall, that I wouldn’t come back to this town unless I circled the planet. Well, thanks to the Navy, I achieved that goal and proudly patted the western wall of that old bank.

There weren’t many things going on in Bend in terms of local live music, like open mics. I didn't have any friend who was in a band or playing shows. Not to mention that I didn’t have a clue on how to become a musician or how to explore it, but I knew that I really wanted to do it. Thankfully, there was a really cool establishment that had just opened up called the Evil Sister. It was a new punk bar, a stripped-out venue off of Greenwood avenue; it had a stage, served beer, and when I walked in there, they were playing loud punk rock music. The room was packed with snowboarders and wanna-be punks like me. I thought it was a pretty cool place, and as I looked around, I said to myself, "wow, this is where I can get my start in music.”

 I walked up to the bar and said, "hey, can I get a piece of paper?" I wrote down my name, scribble my number with, “Singer, looking for a band, call me,” and then pinned it to the bulletin board in the hall next to the bathrooms.

That same week, actually the next day, someone gave me a call. It was some guy, and he said, “hey I've got a punk band and we lost our front-person. I'm looking for a singer, I play the drums, so you wanna play?”

Kind of baffled, I said, "uh, yeah sure.”

I met up with him at a grocery store, and he handed me this stack of papers with scribbled down lyrics on them; he said, "you really don't have to worry about learning the chords or anything, just learn the words then we'll go from there,” he continued “oh…and, by the way, if you're up for it we have a show this Saturday and maybe we'll give something a try, there's not going to be anyone there.”

Stupidly I said, “okay, let's do it.”

I showed up to the Evil Sister, and I was pretty nervous. Who wouldn't be? Coming in the cold, never hearing the music, there were a lot of people there, much more than what I would ever have expected for a practice. "Wait, these are real music fans and not your friends?" I asked (yup, I wasn't that bright).

This was a very bad idea. Nevertheless, I got up on stage, and the band kicked into playing.  The first song was completely botched. I was making these stupid faces and acting, well, stupid. I was like, "well it is punk rock music, it doesn't have to sound perfect," but it sounded really awful, and the crowd hated it.

Thankfully the next song, the only words in the lyrics were "six pack." It was basically a song of a drum solo and a hard jam on the guitars with bass.  Then they stopped, and I screamed, "SIX PACK."  Kind of like the snowboard version of Wipe Out. The crowd really liked that, and that kind of got me jazzed. That was actually the first song where I felt that crowd vibe and thought, "wow this is what live music is like."

Then the third song, the drummer got up from behind his kit, grabbed me and literally push me off the stage, grabbed the lyrics from my hand, and said, "you're no good man, I'm sorry but we're going to find somebody else."  So, I kind of failed my live audition.