Beer Pressure

It's another tipsy edition of The Unvarnished Truth! We'll tell you the truth as we see it, then nurse the hangover and deal with the fallout later. Standard operation procedure here at PDC HQ. Speaking of hangovers....

... last week we performed at our 2nd Edmonton Craft Beer Festival. 'Twas like some sort of rockabilly timewarp where we saw the same faces, ate the same food, drank the same beer and flirted unsuccessfully with the same girls. Actually some of those faces & flirts were from the Calgary 'Fest we played the month before but "who cares, Sawbones," I hear my editor say. (Editor's Note: I didn't say that. And stop drinking while writing these!)

 

 

Deja Brew 

 

And just like last year at this time, there was a kerfuffle regarding our set times. "When do we play? How long do we play? When do I get to imbibe?" and so on. Those concerns are ultimately just floccinaucinihilipilification. Like the good lil troops we are, we fear no stage and shun no schedule. Our job is to rock. And to use giant words to overcompensate for something.

Sound check with sound tech. "When do we drink? And play... um, yes.... when do we play??"

 

 

The Humble Path To Rock Stardom

 

Before they let the parched masses in for a day of drinkin' & rockin', your PDC pals prepped for the performance. This included not only set up & soundcheck but finding suitable dressing rooms in which to transform into the dapper rock god I think I am. Sadly (for my modesty), change rooms were not provided. Since we can't just strip in front of curious onlookers like some sort of sick, vaudevillian peep show (not to mention this weird phobia I have of exposing my hairy oxter in public), I sought out the best private area I could.

The road to true stardom: a makeshift dressing room and just making do (as opposed to "do do")

 

 

Workin' Hard Or Hardly Workin'

 

Once I primped and preened to my satisfaction, I rendez-vous'ed with Bandmeister Randy B and Capt. Sean E. Watts backstage, ready for our first of three sets. Keep in mind that patrons of this event weren't there to see us. They were only there for the beer so that meant we had to woo them from scratch. And we love pitching woo! 

Backstage: the calm before the storm!

 

The first set was all about making a joyous racket and getting folks' attention, which we did. After creating a buzz (and helped along with a beer buzz), the 2nd and 3rd sets attracted an exponential amount of brew-swilling, music lovers to surround our corner stage. 'Twas a damn party goin' on! By the end, we'd converted a goodly number of ladies & gentlemen to our way of thinkin'.

In between sets we wiled the minutes away doing what any good musos with time on their hands would do at a beer festival.... get (or keep from getting) pissed up! The pressure was on to maintain professionalism amidst the temptations of rock. Enjoy the day with endless free food & drink at your availability --  all the while riding that fine line between clever and stupid.  A 20 year old Sawbones would NOT have passed this test, I assure you.

 

Sawbones selfies capturing an unsuspecting wandering minstrel in background

 

 

PDC with a distant cousin of Klondike Mike...?       No cute caption here. Just apropos.

 

  

Apocryphal Plugs

 

I'd like to take this time to plug our sponsors. Yes, thank the good Lord above for sponsors! We didn't pay for one goddamn thing. Our pals (Mark, Kevin and Tom) at Mill Street Brewery provided the stage, personally requested us to play and gave us fistfuls of drink tickets merely because we asked. Friends, that's a biblical lesson! "You receive not because you ask not." Not sure where in the Holy Bible that is.... somewhere in the back.

Reminds me of the time when we recorded our second opus, The Juke Joint Revival Hour, with our producer/engineer Styles Montreaux. I'd noticed that in a kitchen cupboard of his studio he had stashed a bottle of rum. He didn't know that I knew it was there. After laying down tracks that day and relaxing afterwards I cheekily expressed a desire for some rum. Styles said "Oh I've got some of that here!" and busted it out as I feigned gleeful surprise. Moral Of The Story: None. It was a cheap trick and a demonstration of rock 'n' roll selfishness. So don't underestimate the power of misdirection (or a thirsty, desperate musician).

 

If'n y'all didn't catch us at this here Beerfest, might I interest you in our next musical endeavor? If you're around Beaumont way on June 21st, please join us at the Beaumont Blues & Roots Festival where we'll be honoured to open for Hawksley Workman!

 

And that's the unvarnished truth.

 

Sawbones