Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

In just about every band I played in there was an argument about playing cover songs or original songs, and the appropriate ratios of each. Some folks said “absolutely no cover songs”, because they wanted us to be known for our own music not the cover songs we played. Some guys said “more covers” because they knew that knowing the words to songs kept people interested in the show. Some said “a few selectively chosen obscure covers” because they would sound like original songs to people who were unfamiliar, but those who were hip to the song already could sing along. Personally, I don’t care. So, eventually I started a band that settled this argument….

I was bartender at this terrible seafood restaurant for a while. The owners were terrible. One was sending most of the profit either up his nose or intoxicating (the verb) sleazy bar sluts, and the other owner, a 400 pound pushover, was literally eating the rest. Food sales struggled, terribly, but the wait staff carried such a strong social network, that we were able to keep the place afloat by having our friends run up ridiculous bar tabs. We encouraged them to come by giving away beer and pouring strong drinks, further perpetuating the problem.

One night, the lusty owner asked me if I could put together a band to play at the restaurant. It had been a few months since the breakup of Thred, but figured I could probably find some guys that were interested. So, I said I’d look into it. “Good”, he said, “I’d like to throw myself a birthday party in here on Saturday”. It was Thursday.

So, I immediately got on the phone. I called Shafty, the bass player (from Exit 118 and Newman) first. Next I called the guitar player from Thred, call him “cigs”. The next piece of the puzzle would be the drummer. We’ll call him “Little Buddy”. At our first meeting, he had told me how he would love to play in a band that could cover “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed”. Well, that was this band. So, it took some work, but I tracked him down, and he agreed, having no idea what he was getting into. And lastly, I called that keyboard player from Thred and Newman, we’ll call him “Larry”. Time had gone by, and the manager issues had been resolved, and he was excited to do it.

So, Saturday came, and everyone showed up. We all set up up our stuff which included using the bar’s PA speakers, as they were way nicer than the ones I owned, did a quick sound check, had some dinner and drank a few beers while we talked about what the hell we were about to do. Everyone agreed that we would just simply have to trust each other. We were all good musicians. We knew how to make good music. But what about a name? Shafty kept complaining about his back, cause of the couch he had slept on the night before. Cigs apparently had the same problem. And just like that the Dirty Couch All Stars were born. So when the place began filling up, we ordered a round of Jaeger Bombs and took the stage.

We opened up with a basic blues jam. By the time we finished our first song, the place was packed. People were standing on tables, and pushing and shoving to try to get to the bar. Our stage area was getting smaller and smaller. We played everything we knew, even a few songs we didn’t know. There was a lot of yelling chords and time signatures, but somehow we managed to all stay on the same page. There were a few mess ups, but nothing we couldn’t recover from. We had been playing for 90 minutes. The place was packed. We took a break, and I jumped behind the bar to help serve drinks to the enormous crowd. People were getting restless and drunk.

After twenty minutes behind the bar we busted out another 90 minute set.  Then, I got back behind the bar. By now people were starting to get angry because the place was way understaffed for the amount of people in there. Yet, no one had left. People were still lined up outside to try to get in. It must’ve been the music, I figured. So we went back up on stage and played yet another 90 minute set. Not bad for 5 guys who had never rehearsed before.

At the end of the night they gave us $800 and comped our bar tab, which had been in the neighborhood of $500 as we had been throwing down shots, and giving a bunch away too. “Put it on the band tab”, was a phrase commonly uttered by more than just 5 people that night. Suddenly we realized how lucrative this cover band potentially was. It was easy money. No rehearsals, no studios, no managers, no pressure to “make it big”, just getting paid to do something we all truly enjoyed, and we all enjoyed the free booze. That in itself was worth another $100 each. We all agreed that we’d have to do this again.

So, we packed up all of our stuff and hauled it all out to the cars, including the house PA speakers. When we were finished I walked back in and took a look around the bar. I’ve never seen anything so terrible in my life. Broken glass was everywhere. Tables and bar stools had been flipped over, torn clothes were scattered about. A window was broken in the back door. I decided that I had better not stick around, or they’d make me help clean up. It turns out, that was the last night that dirty little seafood restaurant was open. We had officially “destroyed” the place and it felt good.

Somehow this band still exists. (Songs and picture are actually of Thred.) There will be a reunion show. Lemme know if you need a good jam cover band.  I’ll see if I can throw some guys together.

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