I pulled into town around 1:30 pm. It was a beautiful drive, made quicker by the rental car bliss. The feeling of driving a new car makes the time pass quicker. And the stereo was good and loud as well.
I follow the directions to the spot, a place called ‘AMP Rehearsal Studios in North Hollywood. Croz said to look for the lake and you’ll know you’re in the right parking lot. I pull in and see what he’s talking about. Poor concrete design and recent rains made for a soggy parking area. I pull in and park the car, noticing my lack of nervousness. In previous L.A. trips, I get nervous driving around in traffic, but this time is different. The road wears on you like a three day old beard, it makes you look, and sometimes feel, grisled.
It was a nice place to rehearse. It was more impressive than any of the other rehearsal spots in L.A. I’ve been to. There were vending machines in the lobby with guitar strings, blank cds, guitar picks, and 9 volts. All the tell tale signs of an L.A. spot were there, the plethora of music publications scattered about, band stickers plastered everywhere, and positively awful paintings of dead rock stars on the walls and in the hallways. But this place had a nicer vibe to it, it seemed less jaded and elitist than most spots down here. I got the feeling that it was more expensive than the others, making it more for the bigger players who didn’t have time to waste on bullshit. Unlike all the small time guys struggling to be a star, who are more concerned with how they look than how they sound.
There was reggae floating through the hallways from downstairs, where the big rooms are. I found room G and opened the door.
“Hey!” Everyone was there except the drummer. It was like a family re-union. Hugs were exchanged and smiles were genuine.
“How was the drive?”
“Good! The rental car is fun, and the stereo is waaay better than mine, so that’s nice.”
“So here’s the deal, Jarred’s sick. He got on the plane this morning at 4 am in Connecticut with a 100 degree fever. So he’s sleeping right now in the hotel room. We’ll work out all the chords and stuff while he’s gone so we don’t have to waste his time, then we’ll go get him later tonight.” says Crosby, with a newfound band leader confidence, developed from his time spent touring steady as a solo acoustic act.
“Cool. Hey, who’s rehearsing downstairs right now? They sound good.”
Paul interjects with a smile, “Dude, that’s Bunny Wailer! ” Bunny Wailer was the lead guitar player for Bob Marley and the Wailers. “He was just doing an interview in the hallway”
“Damn. That’s cool.”
I set up my bass and jumped right in.
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It was a long and tedious day. We ended up rehearsing until 1 in the morning. We had two food breaks and played the rest of the time. It was worth it, the band was sounding hot. It was good to play with these cats, some of the best around. We hadn’t played together in over 10 months, and we had about 4 songs that were newer material, not stuff that was ironed out previously and recorded, which meant there was plenty of work to do.
The showcase was a pivotal point in Crosby’s career:
“C’mon guys, look how far the last showcase got me, let’s hope this one gets me ever farther.”
He caught himself after saying that, knowing full well that it made is sound like he’s not sticking up for the band and just using us to pursue his personal career. Which of course isn’t the case. Croz is a great guy, a good friend, and a strong performer.
And the band carried on, stoked to be there.
Next: MTV people and dirty, dirty L.A.
March 31st, 2008 at 11:55 am
“There was reggae floating through the hallways…” is that a play on words?
November 12th, 2008 at 9:34 pm
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