Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Revelstoke BC: Slow Dancing
It's a pretty nice day as we set out from Invermere, BC. We've got only about four or five hours of driving ahead of us— and it should be quite relaxing and scenic if the weather holds. We've spent the morning— or rather I've spent the morning— in a little cafe bakery that has WiFi. There's somebody, or something, stalking this tour. Like a little black cloud hiding just out of our vision. I can't quite figure it out, but the Tour council, Paul Sanderson, is working on it, as is publicist Richard Flohil. Thank goodness for the team. As it is, it swallows the morning and leaves me feeling drained.
Dave was out shopping while I did the laptop and cell phone shuffle. He managed to pick up some scarfy blues collection cds, so we've got some interesting stuff to listen to as the weather sweeps in and out around us. It's an odd compilation from Japan, I think. A young Johnny Winter, Muddy, John Lee Hooker... The miles go by easy.
It's a good mountain run from Invermere to Golden, BC, where we stop off to buy gas and visit my pals Caleb and Niki at Bacchus Books and Cafe. We chat for a bit and grab a bite to eat as well. I'm sorry we are not playing Golden this time around. We were going to play here if the Cultural Centre could not secure the Downchild Blues Band. But they did. Well, I can't blame them— it's going to be a great show. Forty year anniversary tour! Wow. These are all great guys, and great musicians. Congrats, Donnie. I hope you all travel safe and have many more years of success. My old partner and friend, Colin Linden is opening for the band— and probably playing with them, too. So... this time around Dave and I are booked to Revelstoke and, as it is a new stop for the Tour, we are looking forward to it.
The Downchild folks are somewhere out on this highway, too, but our paths are not going to bring us together this day. Big Road.
Some serious looking mountains around here, but the weather holds for us, and soon we are exiting the TransCanada for Revelstoke. Nice to be rolling in early.
The Regent Inn looks pretty nice from the outside as we do the drive-by and scope out parking and load in arrangements.
As it happens, there is plenty of parking, and the place is very nice inside as well. A very friendly and efficient staff get us checked in, fed, and set up in fairly short order.
The room itself is a big, bright bar. Not like this pic above— best I could grab for some reason! It has a huge DJ set up, masses of lights, dance floor, sub-woofers. More of a band room— it has that loud quality already in the late afternoon. Two guys at a table jump up as we come in. They demand autographs. They want to buy t-shirts. They say I look just like my picture on "the album cover," and they would recognize me "anywhere." Clearly, they haven't got a clue who I am— or they are pulling a bad joke for reasons I can't imagine.
An early start for tonight's show. It's a thin crowd of business guests and travellers. A few young people— dressed for clubbing. Everyone talks or shouts loudly through our first show. During the break they tell us how wonderful we are. I talk to a couple of twenty-something girls at one of the front tables. They tell me they are going to "get their tits done" before an upcoming Mexican holiday. They slow dance together during our second set, but I'm pretty sure that they are waiting for the DJ. The club is quite crowded by the end of or second show, but we're done. Really. I never do get to meet the manager, or the local radio personality that helped me book this show. And I think this is the only gig on the Tour where we haven't drawn fans. Next time the Tour comes through Revelstoke we'll need to change that.
We break down the PA and load out immediately after our set. It's now cool outside, and I notice that my suit is steaming in the parking lot air. Our little Long and McQuade PA worked great in this big room. I love these modern sound systems. There was a time when bins for a gig like this would of required another truck! As it is, a couple of carries and we are loaded. I throw a blackout tarp over the gear. It is insured, and the parking lot is bright and highly visible. I don't like loading out this way, but we should be fine. Guitars, of course, sleep with me in my room. Dave is early to bed, while I have a scotch with a table of golf course designers. I follow after but one wee dram— eager to find some silence and some sleep.