The Cutting Room

Four months? Do I dare have the audacity...nay...the cojones to just jump right back in as if a long long beat had not been skipped? I have a music blog here, and I went to Bonnaroo, but wrote not a word. In this blog I did not comment on my musical exploits this summer, my decision to pursue music as a career, my undying-and-sort-of-creepy love for John Mayer (and his collaboration with DMB just last week), or any other of the various sonically orgasmic moments that have graced the past four months of my life. Why? I've definitely had the time, and I've definitely thought about doing it. Truth be told, I'm a lazy bastard and I didn't think I would miss it.

But, here we are, all those months later and still I've got things to say. So, to those of you who know this place I proclaim a hearty 'Welcome back!' and to those of you who are just reading this rambling mess for the first time, I say 'Good luck!'

For the past three Mondays (four minus Labor Day), I have been attending a late-night open jam session at The Cutting Room in New York (W 24th b/w Broadway and 6th). It is run by the semilegendary Richie Cannatta, who spent many years as Billy Joel's saxophonist. Between Mr. Cannatta and another frequent visitor, the aforementioned-man-crush John Mayer, I could not resist attending when I found out about the jam from one of the sound engineers at a gig (Porky's in midtown).

So, every Monday at 11:30, I show up at TCR and put my currently meaningless name on a list of about 30 drummers, keyboardists, guitarists, various hornists, and singers in the hopes that the director of the jam, Lisa Miller, will call me up for a tune befitting my listed genres (jazz, funk, blues, classic rock, Latin).

Week 1: The jam begins at midnight, and I am on stage by 2:00am. Unfortunately, some little tart named Meredith requests 'Hit Me With Your Best Shot' by Pat Bennatar as the song to "jam" on. Richie looks at my terrified, angry face and asks, "You know 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot?" At which point I laugh in his face, say of course, sit behind the kit, and make an obviously sarcastic joke about how confident I am that I can "nail this." Nail it I did...if 'it' means my coffin. Note to self and all others who attend the session with me in the future: NO 80s TUNES FOR ME...EVER.

Week 2: The jam begins at half-midnight (12:30am for all you non-Londoners), which is a bit late. I sign up with Lisa, who doesn't remember me at all. 2:30 rolls around and I still have not been called up to play. The house jammers retake the stage, signaling the disappointing end to my night...Doug and I leave lankily and bitterly, respectively.

Week 3: Labor Day...club is dark.

Week 4: The jam begins late, again, at closer to 1:00am. A bad sign for the lesser known jammers, such as myself. I sign up again with the Lovely Lisa, who almost remembers me right off the bat, sort of remembers me when I say that my name is Jake and I'm a drummer, and then really remembers me once I mention 'Hit Me With Your Wet Snot.' I say, "It wasn't really my bag," to which she responds, "Yea...I remember that, too." Lesson of the day: First impressions are important...don't pretend to know a Pat Benatar song when you hate the 80s. Anyway...Lisa announces a disclaimer that she will "try to get everyone up" but not to be mad if we don't make it. I speak with her, she says she'll do her best to get me up, and at 2:45 I have still not taken el stageo (that's Spanish for 'the stage'). I tell Lisa I will be seeing her next week, and drive back to Jersey...in bed by 4:00am, and up again at 8:00 for work. If this is the next 30-50 years of my life, I can't fucking wait.

All of that being said, I am taking reservations from those who wish to accompany me from 12:00-3:00am on Mondays to TCR. Any takers?

P.S. Check out that video at the bottom right of the 'Defensive Britney Spears Fan.' [Note: Video no longer posted] Is that not one of the funniest, most disturbing things you've ever seen? I was going to write an entire post on Britney and her VMA mess, but after seeing that video and the threats to all media personnel who are critical of the poor, poor Ms. Spears, I thought better of it.