Sunday, March 23, 2014

Little Features

Daydreaming is a peculiar habit to get into. On one hand it might seem creative and stimulating, an opportunity to get random thoughts in order, explore ideas and of course indulge yourself in a pleasurable way with imaginative stimulation. Flights of fancy lead into all manner of interesting thinking processes and the opening up of options and ultimately, as common sense and age induced boundaries will tend to prevail, the shelving or total  deletion of anything too far fetched. Anyway yesterday I found myself planning to start a “Little Feet” tribute band; they would be the “Little Features” of course. I was primarily tickled by the name, a shallow enough but persuasive start to anything. Most of the act centred around replaying the “Sailing Shoes” album, an album I’ve not listened to for thirty years (intense preparation required then) and I was there in the Lowell George slot. A charismatic and  talented figure. Short and dark, equally full of Latino fun and growling menace and master of the slide guitar. I think I was playing a cherry red SG as opposed to a Les Paul, I considered the Tokai options also for a while. There would be a big seventies amp for me – stage achieved presence in one fell swoop. I’d also allowed myself to grow extra facial hair here and there, mostly on my upper lip and around my ears. It was a curious look for me but I was confident that I could pull it off. I had some difficulty picturing my fellow band members however, a raggle taggle bunch of Edinburgh street musicians who would blindly follow my every move. The horn section would always be troublesome. I didn’t really understand any of that. Perhaps this band would have to be more stripped back and simple, no over complex arrangements. Drums, conga, bass, keys, rhythm guitar and two backing singers. 

Then I thought about customer demand and engagement for the Little Features here in Central Scotland. Where was the appeal, where was the audience? Weddings and wakes, political fundraisers, club nights; none of it looked promising, we’d truly be a niche outfit, but we’d also do the odd Zappa or even Beefheart numbers, just to keep us all interested and focused. Rehearsals might be tough and my game would have to be raised by numerous unknown notches, a steady left hand on the bottleneck and noisy practice sessions that would bring on headaches and stress. I was doubting myself already. There would be fights between members, it would like the Commitments but high on tequila and Sol beer, scrapping and walking out but all based in Edinburgh. At that point, as a film script started to materialise deep within my right brain’s blue and sparking innards I got back to watching the football. Dunfermline 1, East Fife 2.

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