My Favorite New Group

Flight of the Concords
Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros

Here is some footage of me playing on TV with Diego Paqué and Pol Sabata.

My First Tour

After playing a few local gigs and practicing like a mad man to learn all the songs on the set list, we set off on what was my first real tour. I had travelled around Vancouver, Seattle, Bellingham, Anacortes, etc. for a one night gig or to rock a festival, but never three shows, three nights, three cities.

I got nervous as the day came to hit the road. I had dreamed of touring since I played in my first band, 'Puddy', back in 1992. I had visions of life on the road, romanticized about meeting new people after each show, tasting the cuisine from different regions and cultures, and most of all sharing my music with the people.

The tour was to the NW corner of Spain in Galicia. Like Cataluña, the Basque Country, and a few other regions of Spain, they have their own language: Gallego. It is smooth to the ears and sounds very much like a Portuguese and Spanish hybrid. This makes sense as geographically it lies just above Portugal. It does, however, complicate communication somewhat.

After a twelve hour, over-night drive Gorka, the keyboard player, Manu, our manager, Diego, the lead singer-guitar player, and me arrived to Vigo. Vigo is an important port city on the Atlantic and was my first view of 'the other side' of Spain. I realized as we climbed over the last ridge and saw the water, that growing up on the west coast, that my orientation has always been that the sun goes down over the water in the West. Here in Barcelona, the sun rises over the Mediterrenean in the east, but there is never a beautiful sunset over the ocean. I was excited to see one here in Galicia.

The hotel was simple, but clean and comfortable and we were wiped out after the long drive. Instead of looking for a restaurant we ate at the hotel bar. What a great decision! The woman who ran the hotel was also the cook and brought out an amazing spread of Caldo Gallego (a sort of meat stock soup with tender vegetables and garbanzo beans) and a mountainous plate of roasted pork. Bread and wine included of course. She offered us more, but there was no way any of us could fit another bite. This, I realized, was common practice in all restaurants and sit-down eating experiences. The Galicians stuff you. I began to wonder if they were fattening me up for something...But, I digress.

The first show of my first tour was somewhat disappointing. At the last minute the venue was changed and the new place was a little jazz bar called 'Contrabajo'. I was exited by the name, buy when we arrived we found a stage that was 6 feet tall that made us feel like we were up on a pedestal over the crowd. And the sound system seriously lacked punch. I was also a bit concerned as to how we would be received without a drummer or percussionist. It was a small but talkative crowd though and by the end we had them dancing and buying us drinks. Overall, a good first night.

The next day we were invited by a friend of Diego's uncle to his restaurant for lunch on our way to the next show in Santiago de Compostela. After getting a bit lost on the small costal highway we found his beautiful establishment. It was an old grain mill on the edge of a river converted into an elegant restaurant. They fed us (again, until the point of exploding) with goose egg and potato tortillas (a sort of Spanish omelet), fresh goat cheese, sautéed wild mushrooms, and white wine from a friends winery down the road. Life is good. The restaurant is called 'O Muiño Vello' or 'The Old Mill' in a town called Redondela on the outskirts of Vigo if anyone is travelling in Galicia...

From there we sleepily made our way to our next stop in Santiago. We loaded our gear into a beautiful club called Sala Dado Dada. There were hundreds of pictures of the artists who had played there. The energy was great and even though we didn't pack the house, those who were there were dancing and shouting. At the end of the night we had another crowd of people buying us drinks. The bartender also gave me a free 'Flor de Caña' rum on the rocks (one of my favorite things in the world). The owner, a powerful woman in the Galician music industry, came in toward the end and saw the crowd’s reaction. She gave us a bonus seeing that the place wasn't full but those who were there really enjoyed themselves. She also invited us to lunch the next day. I prepared my self to be stuffed again...

The next day we woke and met with the club owner. It turned out she owned a theater that had a restaurant attached. We sat down and they brought out a variety of tapas, shrimp in garlic sauce, jamón iberico, croquetas de pollo, and salad. I was filling up and feeling satisfied and the waiter appears and said, 'so, for the first and second course options we have...' The tapas were just a warm-up. Luckily I am a pretty healthy eater. I am the kind of guy that makes grandmothers happy as I clean my plate. I usually suffer later from indigestion, but anything for cultural sensitivity.

Again, after a sleepy drive, we made it to our last stop of the tour, La Coruña. We went directly to the club, Jazz Vides, set up and headed down to the beach. I wanted to catch that sunset. It was amazing to see the Atlantic crashing over the rocks and to think, wow, out there somewhere is my country. New York, Boston, Washington, D.C. I imagined the Spanish explorers looking out and pondering the possibility of another world. Knowing that it is out there is a whole different experience. It makes the concept of 'jumping over the pond' much more real.

The sun made its way over the horizon and the colors jumped out at us. I took a moment to stroll off by myself and sit on the rocks and look at the tide pools. I got a strong nostalgia for Seattle and the Puget Sound, with the scent of the sea, the clean air and the oranges and purples in the air. I took a deep breath, jumped up and was ready to play music again.

This was by far the best show of the tour. We were warmed up from the previous two nights, it was a packed house and we could feel the positive energy coming from the crowd. We got them to sing along to songs they had never heard and in the end the owners offered us shows anytime we were in the area. The string of good impressions continued...

As we headed back to Barcelona the next morning, I realized my dreams about touring came true. It was exactly what I hoped for and more. What a blessed life to travel from town to town, be stuffed with amazing food, meet friends, making a little money, all while playing music. Again, life is good.

El Encuentro/The Meeting

I first saw Diego Paqué perform because an American friendof mine, Rod, put me on the guest list to one of his shows. I enjoyed both the musicality and energy the band brought to the performance. I thought to myself, 'it would be great to play in a band like that someday...' Eight months later I got a call from Rod explaining that they were looking for a bassist and wondered if I was interested. At first I got very excited and then nervous as I realized that this was a serious, seasoned flamenco fusion group that would not be a 'show-up-and-play' scenario.

That night I made a date for a tryout and talked to the exuberant Diego about the situation. Their bassist had a baby and wanted to focus on his family. No bad blood, always a good sign. I have learned that if a member of the band quits because of personality issues, it may not be the best situation to walk into.

I wanted to make a good impression, so I learned a couple of the songs off his website and showed up ready to go. I had a few of the basics of flamenco rhythms down from my time with Matius, but was still unsure of myself. Regardless, he was impressed that I already knew some of the material, liked my sound that he called 'bajo americano' (American bass) and was willing to give me a shot.

Diego explained that we had one month to prepare for a string of shows coming up. This was the best news he could have given me as I dreamed of the stage since playing my last show with the Catalan pop-rock group almost one year before. I missed the stage more than anything and little did I know the fun was just about to begin...

A Sweet, Then Bitter Introduction to Flamenco

My first experience playing flamenco was with a singer named Matius. He called me from an ad I put on-line, told me he was on the verge of recording an album and desperately needed a bass player. He gave me some convoluted directions that almost got me lost if it were not for my internal map that I carry around in my head. I arrived after a 40 minute subway/train ride to a suburb of Barcelona called Montcada i Rexiac-Santa Maria. It was January and cold, but unlike Seattle, not rainy. I waited for 20 minutes (the norm here in Spain) with a bar full of rowdies across the street until he finally arrived.

He picked me up in a rundown van with a hash joint fired up between his lips. He had a good vibe about him, albeit a little off, in that squirrely I am the man, but self-conscious to the gills kind of way. He was short and had wire frame glasses and a rat tail hairdo. We got to the practice spot, hidden up in the trees above the town. It was a nice change from Barcelona and I thought, at the time, ‘This could be it! The project I am looking for!’

We loaded in the gear. It looked like an old house on the hill that had been dived into small rooms with a little sound proofing (ineffective, as the metal bands constantly rocked the walls around us). The place got better though, as there was a small public room to kick back in where cheap beer flowed at a euro a piece (compared to 3 Euros in Barcelona…). Everyone was very welcoming to the Yankee bass man, curious as to how I found myself in such a strange corner of the world.

The music was a new flavor and his voice was sweet, but powerful. Mostly though, I was just excited to rock with a passionate vocalist. Since I left my blues band Moonshiner in Seattle, I craved backing up a talented vocalist.

We played with a percussionist who was a regular at the practice facility and could hang with us, but was drunk as a sailor on leave from his boat. Matius told me that he was still looking for a drummer as well to fill out the project. I looked around and it was just him and me and the wheels began turning that maybe this guy was not fully honest with me about recording an album right away.

A few practices later he brought in a drummer. I am a lover of good drummers. They make my life easy. They give me space to do my thing. I trust them to hold it down if I take it ‘out’ for a second or two or ten. David was not a good drummer. If I strayed from the exact line or dropped out, he would lose it and we would have to start again. He also played the same volume all the time: loud. Not an endearing quality when I think of my partner in the rhythm section.

After a couple of sessions with the two of them, repeating the same four songs over and over and listening to them seriously talk about how we were finally ready to get into the studio and record, I got cold feet. I couldn’t imagine going into the studio at this point. We were far from ready and with the amount of alcohol consumed and joints passed around at each practice, this was not going to change.

I made a painful phone call to Matius outside of the Hospital del Mar, looking out over the Mediterranean Sea. I told him I needed to focus on my music and that I was leaving the band. He did not make it easy and then said that the least I could have done was to tell him in person. He was right, but I didn’t really feel like I was losing anything. I was tired of the commute and of playing in a project that was going nowhere and had no legs to stand on.

I did learn a bit about flamenco and put a lot of energy into studying the songs to make them sound good. Well, as good as they could have under the circumstances. I have not seen Matius since then, but did see David, the drummer, at a tryout for another band months later. I was very excited about the band, but knew I could not work with a so-so drummer and, even though I was offered the job, declined. Life goes on.

Catalan Pop-Rock

When I first moved to Spain I put an ad on a website for musicians looking for bands. Bass players are of short supply anywhere in the world, but I was surprised to get 15 emails after the first day. Twelve of them were for metal bands (very popular here), one from a group in Madrid who wanted me to move there (not happening) and two others. The first was a Catalan pop-rock band that went under the name of the singer song-writer, Ismael Colomer. The other was a flamenco fusion band that I will discuss in the next entry.

They came to my house to 'interview' me for the 'position'. I liked the serious vibe and what looked to be a new opportunity. I had never played pop, technically, but I was ready to try it out. They came over and broke down that they had, and I quote, "lots of shows lined up that all pay really well". This will perk up any starving artists' ears and I was no different. I told them I was interested and we set up a time to get together.
The practices were good, but I was used to playing with stellar musicans in Seattle and these guys, although skilled in their own right, were far from stellar.
In the end I left the band and they continued on to record another album. I am still listed as a bass player with them on their Myspace though. Good times and experience, but the music did not move me enough to continue.

Here are some excerpts from my emails home in 2006 breaking down the experience:

Feb 14th

My pop-rock group went to the next big town north of here, Girona, to do an in-station session. At least that is what I thought. After a ride getting lost a couple times, and already pretty tired, we show up at this little TV station. Everyone, as usual is only speaking in Catalan so I am not really sure what is going on. I pull out my bass and start tuning up. The keyboard player/manager comes over and says, "oh don't worry about that, we aren't ACTUALLY going to play live. They are going to play our single from the record and we are just going to pretend like we are playing the song. “Can you try to play it just like it sounds on the album?" So the tape starts rolling and I am standing there playing my unamplified bass, without even a cord coming out to make it look real. Just for show I guess. We played one song, and then they were like, "alright, that's it, let's go home." I thought the music business in the US was strange.

March 9th

Played my first show in Spain at a big music store in Barcelona called FNAC. Packed house, horrible sound, but best of all, the band played well. Pop-rock, again, not really my thing, but I think we did a good job and hopefully get some more gigs out of it. A couple of funny moments though. Remember, this group sings and speaks in Catalan. I understand some words, but cannot hold a conversation. The lead singer, Ismael, brings up a guest vocalist (didn’t know this was coming) for a song called Crits de Guerra (Catalan: critical of the war), an anti-war number. This friend comes up and they are rattling off about this and that.

I found out afterwards that the guest had just come from the Catalan Independence rally and they were making rally cries and pumping the crowd up with independence slogans, etc. (Catalans want an independent country from Spain.) I am totally down with the revolution and everything, but was surprised at what a strange thing it was for me, as a North American, to be up on stage representing something I don’t really know much about. The guest couldn’t hold a tune either and was really nervous, so that didn’t help much either. We finished the set, I thought I was done and started unplugging my gear and suddenly the lead singer brings up another guest singer, his cousin or something, and he starts into our “single”. The whole band is still up there and starts playing. At the last moment I realize I am not even plugged in. Luckily I was able to pull it together quick, but I was a bit rattled there for a second. Overall good show, ok music, great experience.

Jun 12th

Played my first paying gig up in the Pyrenees in a little town called Camprodon. The lead singer from our group is from there and I expected a little party with some drunk locals hootin and holerin'. Well, I was wrong. Turned out to be a celebration for the recent european soccer championship won by FC Barcelona, the pride of Cataluña. There were definitely drunks hootin' and such, but there were also Ismael's loyal fans (many of which were 13-15 year old girls. It seems he is the sex symbol of Camprodon) singing along to every word. Also, we were supplied with a huge stage, a light show, and a bumpin' sound system. The highlight was watching 2 fifteen year old boys headbanging to pop-rock holding up the stereotypical devil hand signal. I chuckled to myself as I played the simple songs.

Afterwards I was asked to take photos with a group of kids, taggers I think, because they wrote there tag on my hand and I held it up for them to take a picture. There was also a sweet moment as an obviously disabled kid was fascinated with me while I was playing and his mom asked if he could take a photo with me. He was very excited, although he could not express himself verbally.

TODAY

I think back fondly of those days playing pop-rock around Cataluña. I learned a lot and saw parts of the country I would have never seen without the opportunity. I have not seen any of the members since we parted ways. I hope they are doing well and continue to play around town.

FIRST ENTRY

So, I have been thinking. The life that I have been living in Spain is pretty interesting. Not trying to toot my horn, but being from Seattle and touring around Europe playing pop-rock in catalan and flamenco fusion is, shall we say, different. I have been in four bands in my two-and-a-half years and each of them has their stories.

Also, opening a fair trade import shop with products from Nepal in the heart of Barcelona is an intersting tidbit. Sathi Art is what some would call a day job, but it takes up more mental space than simply coming and going and collecting every friday. Starting a small business is HARD, but it is also rewarding and, if we can make it work, could be both a socially responsible project creating jobs in Nepal while supporting me and my family in the future.

I will have entries about my past experiences and then from there will log the diffrent shows and special moments from both the music I am playing and the progress of our business.

Hope you all enjoy!

Jefferson Rose