Volume 5 – #7 – July 2002

For some reason, I’ve recently become even more aware of how much our fans mean to us. We are truly a lucky band. Brave Combo members receive heaps of praise and adoration on a daily basis. And, although we take this for granted on occasion, I know, in our hearts, we are extremely grateful for the opportunity to spend our lives making music for people who enjoy it. And every year the number of listeners grows. It’s great. I’ve had a lot of experience gauging success ($5 cover goes up to $10 cover) and one of the main things I’ve noticed in the last few years is how nicely we’re treated now, especially at the venues. A rider is attached to our contract that lists hospitality things we would like. Therefore, we usually have lots of food and drinks in the dressing rooms. There are towels and bottles of water on stage and we’ve come to expect decent sound and lights. Basically, people try harder to make us feel comfortable than they used to. And we notice it. We are thankful for the respect. Sometimes it’s so extreme we’re humbled and feel unworthy. Every now and then someone tries too hard and it’s embarrassing, but enduring those moments is a small price to pay. More and more, I think we feel at home everywhere. We should change the name of the band to Brave, Lucky, Thankful and Comfortable Combo.

My equipment breaks constantly. It’s always in the shop. I hate trying to play screwed-up stuff. You can quote me on that. And I hate trying to sing when my voice is screwed-up. And I can’t get to bed before 3 AM.

I don’t want to offend anyone by the next statement. So, please don’t take it personally or feel the need to defend your opinion. And, in fact, I’ve often wondered if perhaps there isn’t something wrong with me for feeling the way I do. So, here it is. I don’t have any interest in sports. None. I don’t know anything about anything that has to do with sports. I don’t really dislike sports, but I’m also not drawn to macho competitiveness. I have friends that really follow sports. And I know many musicians who are crazy about sports. Brave Combo’s esteemed woodwind player, Jeffrey Barnes, is a passionate authority on some sports, especially baseball (Brave Combo sponsors a little league team). And when Joe Cripps was in the band, his enthusiasm about the Dallas Cowboys got my attention a few times. Anyway, I know I’m a big drag. I don’t eat meat. I don’t watch football. I’m car stupid and I don’t care. I’m not into fart humor. I think most major release movies are predictable and boring (although, I do enjoy sitting in dark environments). I don’t think being tipsy makes someone funny or clever. I would be a bad date for most people.

Speaking of my twisted point of view, I am fascinated by Muzak (functional background music). The idea of music motivating workers to be more productive is very exciting to me. Invisible floating melodies accompanying the mundane moments of our lives (riding in an elevator) are cool. I dig being forced into a submissive trance by the power of music. I’m not talking about getting hypnotized and robbing a bank against my will. And I don’t want to aim some speakers at the college boys next door and turn them into lawn care zombies for the neighborhood. Well, actually, I do want to do that, but I don’t know how. Anyway, I see very little difference between Muzak and current popular music. It all wants something from you. Everything is just a big advertisement for something. And this is the United States. We are certainly stretching the boundaries of capitalism. Is anything justifiable if you make enough money? You know what the real reality is? We are fairly intelligent, organic creatures trying to make ourselves as rich as possible and, hopefully, immortal in the process. We can’t help it. Our society dictates that might (wealth) is the ultimate right. So let’s be honest about it and deal with it responsibly. That’s why I like Muzak. It’s honest. It was originally designed to help businesses get more out of their employees; an aural drug. What’s weird though, is that within the walls of a corporate giant are very communist ideas. And that’s okay, too, if you can believe that your superiors are watching out for your best interest. Oh, Utopia. You’re such an elusive place. I thought I was living in your protective arms and then I had to start elementary school.

Touring has been fun lately, but the Donut (our van/bus thing) is getting old. I think its days are numbered. It wobbles and creaks and moans. The poor thing has rolled almost 300,000 miles, so it’s hard to expect much more from it. If we had a Brave Combo museum and gift shop in a place like Branson, Missouri or Atlantic City or Niagara Falls (you know, shameless tourist traps), we could clean it up and put mannequins in it and charge admission to see it. But, we’re not that well known in those towns. We thought about hooking a team of horses to the front, but horses can’t run 70 miles an hour. I guess we could turn it into a bed and breakfast and park it on the downtown square in Denton, but it doesn’t have a bathroom. Any suggestions? It runs great for an old robot and has at least 200-300 more miles left. I wonder if Six Flags Amusement Park would like to have it for a new thrill ride? Maybe I could bury it in my backyard and use it for a storm shelter (tornado season is just around the corner). Of course, if we put the Donut out to pasture, we have a new dilemma. How do we get to your town? Do we go for a regular tour bus? That would mean hiring a full-time driver and we wouldn’t be able to get five hotel rooms every night. In fact, we would be sleeping on the bus. Do we scale down to a nice regular van and perhaps have all equipment provided at the gigs? Do we just fly everywhere? Even to Dallas and Ft. Worth? Do we train giant earthworms to carry us underground? I don’t even know where to buy giant earthworms. I’m so confused. This is why the stock market is in such bad shape right now.

Speaking of tornado season and stock market woes, you should come out and see/hear us play music. We continue to dig old favorites out of the BC vault. Sometimes I call a song on stage we haven’t played in seven or eight years. At that point we’re a comedy act or just pathetically unrehearsed. That’s okay, it’s just showbiz. Whatever, we hope to see your smiling faces soon. We perform our first show ever in South Dakota in August. That’s gotta mean something. We’re just a work in progress and so are you. Have the best day of your life everyday.