I'd like to relate a story of one of the most memorable musical performances I've ever had. It's a story I tell to break the ice at a bar or to entertain new friends in class. It's not memorable on account of being a great performance. It was actually quite disastrous, yet it was also one of the most fun nights I've ever had playing music to people. Why? I was playing to Scientologists.
In early 2011, I was casually jamming with James (drums) and Anthony (bass) in the former's garage. We had just begun playing together for the first time in a few months, having been a consistent outfit in the years leading up to an extended break in late 2010. We were a ramshackle group with no real musical training, but we had kept at it so steadily that we had developed a tight rapport and a sizable repertoire, rooted in Tom Petty and Prince covers. Every once in awhile, the elusive and enigmatic multi-instrumentalist Waldo (nicknamed by me) would join us on keyboards, mostly when he felt like it. Together, we had gleefully and tastelessly dubbed ourselves "The Erotic Four". The joke's funnier when you can actually see us.
I had also been speaking to a singer named Dana on craigslist. I had just attempted to start an R&B / Funk oriented group which was pronounced dead before arrival, so at this point I was attempting to return to my classic rock roots, so to speak. Dana was the perfect fit, heavily identifying herself with the culture and music of the '70s as explored in Almost Famous. She was the classic example of an ambitious girl from a small town in Virginia taking her first optimistic steps on the gory glory of Hollywood Boulevard. I had negotiated for the Erotic Four to become her backing band.
I don't even think we even had a chance to rehearse before Dana enlisted us in a "showcase" at a Hollywood hotel on Franklin Boulevard. We were obviously nervous at the idea of playing a show without a chance to rehearse with our lead singer, but she assured us we would only be playing two songs and it would be an opportunity worth taking. We decided to play "Cherry Bomb" by the Runaways (one of Dana's favorites) and Tom Petty's "Free Fallin", a three chord song we already knew by heart and could not possibly bungle.
In the afternoon before the show, I rehearsed "Cherry Bomb" with James and Anthony. We figured it could only help to rehearse the song, even without the singer. We had listened to the recording and played it instrumentally over ten times. By 4:00 PM, we had the song down pat. We didn't even bother with the other song, as it had become second nature to us. We had also been talking to Waldo throughout the day. Whenever he would make the effort to show up to practice, it was something of an event. When he called on this particular day, we invited him to join us just for the joy of playing with him again, even though we hadn't practiced with him for about six months. He remembered "Free Fallin" as well as we did and I figured he could fake his way through the easy "Cherry Bomb", so we weren't concerned.
By 5:30 PM or so, Anthony, James and myself loaded our gear into James' truck and headed to Hollywood to try and find the hotel before the show, which began at 7:00 PM. Waldo decided to meet us there later, though we were all skeptical as to how he would successfully navigate his way through Hollywood during the traffic infested evening. We already knew he would confidently leave at 6:30 and arrive an hour after the show had commenced.
We turned out to be the lost ones, as the traffic and poor phone coordination with Dana led us all over Hollywood in the healthy evening traffic, from her apartment near Miracle Mile to the edge of Silverlake. Even she had trouble finding this mysterious hotel. Twenty minutes before the show, we had all given up and decided its existence must have been some sort of grand hoax. I remember there were half-serious talks of just cutting our losses and going home. Then we received a call from Waldo, who not only found the hotel but was wondering where we were! Somehow he had made it to Hollywood in twenty odd minutes and found what we'd all been seeking for an hour.
Miraculously, we found time to stop at a Tommy's Burgers nearby before we met Dana in the parking lot of the hotel. She presented us with two very interesting surprises. Firstly, she had brought her friend Brittany (who we'd never even met) to join us for both songs on guitar. I took one look at her $80 bedroom practice amplifier and already knew how this would affect our sound. Secondly, Dana had just learned that the entire event was being curated by the Church of Scientology. We all looked at each other and shared a million punchlines without uttering a word.
The evening was already escalating as we carried our gear into the hotel. I was amused to see that Dana had convinced a manager (unaffiliated with the church) into securing us a "dressing room" behind the auditorium stage, even though he meekly reminded us that it was highly unorthodox to allow a band performing just two songs to use it. We certainly made great use of it. With Brittany and Waldo joining us, our group was now a six piece mini-orchestra. We sprawled two metric tons worth of amplifiers, instruments and purses across the tiny room we had demanded of the staff.
After we were allowed to set up our gear onstage, we were ominously invited to sit down in the audience and enjoy a "presentation". Again, we shared a million nervous jokes just by glancing at each other. Along with about five or six other groups and their collective entourage, we watched as a middle aged man in glasses and a business suit take the stage. He began his speech with a disclaimer: "People say a lot of things about us, but most of it's untrue." This eased my fears until he showed us an eight second silent video of flashing green lights, after which he asked the audience "So what did you think of that?" I was convinced that I would wake up brainwashed the next morning.
A minute later, he made an odd joke about the Holocaust which drew dead silence apart from an unusually loud yawn from James, who was tired of driving us around all day. Anthony later informed me that whenever the speaker would share something ridiculous every few seconds, I would very obviously grin and elbow the person sitting next to me. Along with our demand for a dressing room, we were turning out to be something of a rude crew.
When we were finally invited to take the stage, the manager read our set list as a cue card and introduced us as THE RUNAWAYS, performing our song "Cherry Bomb". Thankfully, Joan Jett wasn't notified. James, Waldo and I walked directly from the front row to our places onstage. We were unaware that Dana, Brittany and Anthony left the auditorium to go around and make a more suitable stage entrance. The three of us onstage awkwardly stood in front a silent audience for what felt like an eternity. Unable to deal with this truly uncomfortable situation, I led the trio into an impromptu version of one of our old set pieces, Prince's "Kiss" while we waited for the rest of the band. I figured it was more compelling than standing there in silence.
We cut the song after a few bars when the other three members finally took the stage. Dana half jokingly exclaimed "Jerk!" as she passed me. We kicked into a shambolic version of "Cherry Bomb", in which Waldo and Brittany were finding their way through the song. It didn't matter, because no one could hear Brittany's guitar through that tiny amp. I thought to myself, "We're better prepared for the next song. We're going to save ourselves."
I hadn't taken into consideration the fact that rehearsal works best when the whole band rehearses together. James, Anthony, Waldo and I played "Free Fallin" a hundred times together before. We knew every line and every block of its structure by heart. That didn't prepare us for the moment when Dana prematurely led us to a point in the song where we were supposed to stop. Hearing her sing that line, half of the band improvised and stopped. The other half ignored her and kept playing. This threw us off balance so much that I ended the song with the worst guitar solo I've ever played on stage.
Afterward, we were invited to hear the rest of the bands play. Of course we declined, opting to collect our gear and leave immediately. After rampaging in at the last minute, demanding a dressing room and snickering during the entire presentation, we were leaving with the faintest of goodbyes. We all went to Mel's Diner in the heart of Hollywood to discuss the experience and reclaim our brains with salty American diner fare. Waldo left a two dollar tip and we loudly announced it for kicks.
A few days after our bumbling performance and disruptive behavior, Dana informed us that the Church invited us back for another performance.
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