R&B, airbrushing and boobs
That's what Tuesday brought my way. Maybe Spring in NYC ain't so bad.
During the day I've been freelancing at a catalog company, photoshopping wrinkles out of clothes and models for the fashion industry. Yes, after ten years in the music and comedy worlds my one marketable skill comes from my ability to make cool flyers.
It's a pretty good setup though, I get to make some money in town when I don't feel like going on the road and it feels very "New York" to go to work in a loft building in the Flatiron district.
After a day of looking at cuff links and dress shirts (Father's Day catalogs) I headed over to Ultrasound for a rehearsal for the R&B singer who's showcasing on Friday. Ultrasound is also a very New York experience. It's a set of rehearsal studios in a building full of studios and music services. If you've ever wondered how bands in New York find places to practice when everyone lives in tiny apartments with no garages or basements, well, this is how. We have to rent out space by the hour. Cool thing is they have amps, drums, and p.a.'s there so you only have to lug in your guitars and drumsticks. Pretty cool.
Outside of Ultrasound you can always find a gaggle of musicians milling about smoking and b.s.ing. It looks like a soup line should an economic depression ever hit Guitar Center.
The rehearsal went well, the other musicians were cool, and Candace sounded great as always. And my anxiety about not fitting in was unfounded as I had all the songs down pretty well and didn't make an ass out of myself.
Then I jumped in a cab to head over to the Bowery Poetry Club for Surf Burlesque on the Bowery, which is where the boobs come in. SBotB is a burlesque show produced by Robert Pritchard, proprietor of the legendary Surf Reality theater on the lower east side, and Sara Delphine, and it mixes musicians and artists in with some really cool burlesque performers.
And if that weren't enough, whom should I find behind the bar? None other than Shappy, a poet/performer I've known since back in Chicago. PBR's were flowing, scantily clad women were getting more scantily clad by the second, and for a moment all seemed right with the world.