well, ok

inspired by the ayb's robust call to arms, i'm back with a short little something about a case of mistaken musical identity.

i went to the lizard lounge last night to see these guys, having been drawn in by mention that reeves gabrels would be appearing as a special guest on guitar. i was reasonably familiar with his playing, having been struck by some of the controlled-frenzy whammy bar and whammy pedal histrionics he unleashed while playing with david bowie in the late 90s, and i remembered from actually watching some of the performances from this time that he had a kind of slick, future man appearance going: slim, stoic, shaved head, earrings, angular shades, black from head to toe.

so when i saw that one of the guitar players on hand was a balding, austere-looking fellow laying out precision whammy pedal riffs over the band's trip-hop grooves, i gave all my attention to him. i ignored that he looked a little, well, OLD to have been the same guy i remembered from 10 year-old performance footage, and a little too austere to be capable of the dementia i remembered coming out of his guitar. i stood on tiptoes to catch glimpses of his fingers at work over other patrons' heads.

still, i found myself distracted by the second guitar player -- a big guy with a mountain man beard and wild hair -- who theatened to overshadow EVERYONE with some absolutely nutty blues phrases. when he fully seized the soloing reins on the third song, i thought he was throwing in all but the kitchen sink to cash in on what was surely a token, conciliatory concession of the spotlight before reeves resumed doing his thing. still, i found myself thinking, "cripes, how is reeves going to top THAT?"

you know where this is going. after the 4th song (about 25 minutes into the set), the band leader introduced all the musicians, and i learned that mountain was, in fact, reeves gabrels.

it's funny how the mind will often automatically fill in some gaps and leap over others to create the most convenient version of apparent reality.

after the 1st set wrapped up, i was grabbing my coat when reeves gabrels exited the stage area right by the rack. i managed to catch his eye and said simply and resolutely: "good playing". he gave a little nod (the halfway bowing kind) and said "thanks" in a sigh that suggested that he was drained by the lengthy set, then turned his head down and kept walking.

seemed like a nice, modest guy, but who knows. at any rate, the guy burns on six strings.