the Bucky Four-Eyes Cotillion

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Oy vey como va

Drunken certainty and self assurance: they will team up to fuck you in the ass like a rabid, unlubricated triceratops. If you take nothing away from this blog but that, I'll feel like I've done some kind of good in this world before my inevitable fall from grace and horribly vivid overdose on Reese's Pieces.

In the days before the formation of the Bone Rollers, I wanted nothing so much as to sing in front of people. While I can do karaoke, I really don't like it; there's only me onstage with karaoke, and I'm not one to make with the dancing, or any kind of stage presence for that matter. So instrumental breaks were awkward for me. Being onstage with other musicians is much better, as the audience will actually be looking at the guitarist during the guitar solo. Therefore, if I found out my friends were gigging, I'd show up and hope to be invited onstage for a song or two.

When I heard that Baba Luis, Mr. Clean, Scooter, and Bald Bill had started a band, I had to check it out, of course. I wandered into the Pasadena Roadhouse to the strains of Deep Purple's Highway Star being performed by the newly formed Drop Dirty - the band name was a tribute to the inevitable outcome of Mr. Clean's court-mandated drug tests. "Mr. Clean" was, like, an ironic nickname, see? I grabbed a table by the band (I'd say "by the stage" but the Roadhouse, like many bars in Flint, has no stage) and ordered a beer; when the song was done, they took a break and Mr. Clean came right over to talk to me.

The mild panic in his eyes was more than the usual one too many lines; something was up. And I knew the favor askin' was about to commence when Mr. Clean called me "Katy girl" - he probably doesn't think I remember shit any better than he does, but I do. And when he wants something from me, he always starts the sweet talk with "Katy girl..."

"Katy girl..."

Oh, shit - here it comes.

"Bill's green, this is his first full-night gig, and his voice is shot. Help us out, girl, come up and sing a set!"

Well...shit fire! He didn't need the "Katy girl" for that. Next, why don't you force me to pet a basket of kittens? That would be some real torture. I slammed my beer and ordered another so I'd have something to drink onstage. Mr. Clean and I huddled and discussed songs they hadn't done yet that I might be able to sing. We came up with a few titles, and reconvened around the floor spaghetti and microphones.

I remember we opened the set with a rendition of the Allman Brothers' Southbound that resulted in a burst of applause, the magnitude of which was wholly unfamiliar to me at the time; the feeling that I had just hit "the spot" with the audience was every bit as intoxicating as the beer I was drinking much too fast. We may have followed up with some Robin Trower - I sing the fuck outta some Bridge of Sighs tunes - and I know I followed up with some beer. I'm sure we also fell back on some Stevie Ray Vaughan, and before long, we'd done all the songs we'd planned before the set. There was still time left in the set, and the audience was giving me a whole lot more love than they'd shown poor Bald Bill, who was a gracious sweetheart - which one might not guess upon eyeing his six-foot-seven, muscular, bald, tattooed self - and just seemed relieved that he could take his raw throat offstage for the night.

I looked at the guys in the band for guidance, because by that time, I was pretty well buzzed. Scooter suggested Black Magic Woman. Mr. Clean asked me if I knew it. Did I know Black Magic Woman? Dude, I used to listen to Abraxas every day in high school. I've seen Carlos Santana in concert. I've heard the song a milllion and ten times, whattaya mean, do I know Black Magic Woman? Well, duh!

So off we went. Mr. Clean launched into the cool, snakey guitar line, and I grabbed the Shure 57 with a confidence that was both unwarranted and foolish.

Have you ever seen the Saturday Night Live skit that's a commercial for an album of popular songs performed by The Drunken Asses? They'll sing a line or two, then go dun-dun-dum-dun-duuuuh for the parts where they can't remember the lyrics? Yeah, that would be me.

Here's how the song went:

Got a black magic woman (heyyyyy, I'm so cool!)
Got a black magic woman (they like me, they really like me!)
Got a black magic woman (wait a minute, what goes here?) hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmmmm...
(oh shit!)
Got a black magic woman (fuck!) hmm hmm hmm hmm hmmmmmmm

(Panicked looks around the stage, guys onstage beginning to laugh at me, okay, I could salvage it with the second verse)

Don't put your spell on me, baby (ok, this will even out)
Don't put your spell on me, baby (relaxing now, everything's fine)
Don't put your spell on me, baby (uhhhhhh....fuck, what comes next?) hmm hmm hmm hmmm hmmm hmmmmmmmmm....
Don't put your spell on me, baby (oh, that is TOTALLY wrong, oh fuck oh shit, oh damn, cocksucker motherfucker!)

At that point, I just sort of wandered offstage and right into the bathroom, where I stayed. For a while. I think Mr. Clean sang a couple of songs while I was in there. And I could still hear the laughter in his voice, long after I emerged, self-humiliated and sloshed, from the restroom.

To this day, if I see Scooter at a gig, he yells and asks if I wanna sing Black Magic Woman. Then he laughs his crazy hyena on crack cackle.

I shoulda gone for Oye Como Va. Not many would've noticed if I was fakin' Spanish.

19 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':

Blogger Unknown said...

I WANT A BUCKY CD OF MY VERY OWN...I'll give you $4.03. More than TWICE your usual price.

You have such a great voice.

12:04 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger eclectic said...

So, like, ... if I refer to you as BMW from now on, will you hit me?

12:20 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger I'm not here. said...

Not fair of them to get you to do it drunk. 'Sposed to get sloshed afterwards and trash the band's hotel room...waitaminute, no that was a movie I once watched.
I think.

2:00 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger JD's Rose said...

I'm with Jim. I'll have one of those CD's too. Can I get mine autographed? Or will that cost me more?

4:55 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Mike said...

Absolutely hilarious. I swear I think I might have been in there that night. You guys actually did Robin Trower songs?? I think I am going to go dig out some Trower CD's today.

7:36 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Squirl said...

There is nothing worse than thinking you know a song, then realizing there's part you really, really don't know.

But something must've been right about it as you went on to form your own band and get back up on stage anyway.

8:40 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Mr. Bloggerific Himself said...

I think I may know 2 songs all the way through. I'd throw "Happy Birthday" in there, but I hear there's been some litigation over that one.

10:31 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

Dude, I'm with Jim. Make mine $4.05, though.

11:19 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger abcd said...

I will take a CD also. I will pay
$5.50 if you include the theme
song from the "BH" series.

I would never ever have the nerve
to sing on stage. More power to
you, words or no words.


(where did the OY come from)

11:42 AM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Michele in Michigan said...

BUCKY! BUCKY! BUCKY! (waving my lighter wildly from the front row)

12:29 PM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...

Katy girl—darlin’ (as I’d say if you were still in Louisville) I think you should make Jim his CD. I have my guitar beside me at the moment (where is yours?) and an acquaintance that has a recording studio in her basement. Let me know when you plan to arrive and I’ll make sure Alex hasn’t vomited up a hairball on the spare bedroom’s carpet.

9:17 PM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Bone Machine said...

Damn. I guess I'm not the only one wanting to hear some Robin Trower now.

10:20 PM, March 26, 2006  
Blogger Unknown said...


You should TOTALLY record a CD of lullabies for kids! I'll give you $5. :)

Sweet Pea has wanted me to sing her lullabies lately, and I just don't have a really great singing voice, as well as a bit of performance anxiety...

9:18 AM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger Spikey1 said...

I will take 3!

9:19 AM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger dashababy said...

Hilarious. I'm laughing with you, not at you. hahahhaa. I would love to hear you sing "Black Magic woman". (eclectic, lol, BMW. You would totally get smacked if you were in her reach)

I saw Robin Trower in 1976 and Santana in 1987 here in our little town. Peter Frampton was awesome too in the 90s. My favorite was Tom Petty during his "Refugee" album, he really put on a great show. I was too poor to see Stevie Ray Vaughn when he came and then he died not too long after that. Damn. Major regrets on that one.

11:45 AM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger Bone Machine said...

I was largely unfamiliar with Robin Trower (except that he looked a lot like Nicko McBrain from Iron Maiden) until around '91. A friend of mine was big into his music and practically insisted that I go see the show in Louisville. I walked out with a stout appreciation for the man.

SRV played nearby in '89-ish and I didn't know of anyone going at the time. Later on, I found out some friends of friends went and ended up walking out with SRV guitar picks.


12:03 PM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger dashababy said...

Bonemachine!!! My husband got to see the concert that night SRV came to play because he was working as a security guard at the time and he got a pick too and an autograph!

2:17 PM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger Bone Machine said...


3:15 PM, March 27, 2006  
Blogger Susie said...

What Jim said.

But no lullabies for kids. Lullabies for adults. You know we would all market your CD on our blogs, right? Do it, Katy-girl :)

10:59 PM, March 27, 2006  

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