Previous Episodes: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 , 14 

So, remember the band Newman was a bunch of guys from high school. They went to school with this short guy. So short, in fact, that they nicknamed him “Smalls.” He was also the cousin of the keyboard player who was not short. Smalls was one of those guys who, because of his size carried a large personality. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but an alpha male in his own right. Smalls did (and still does) everything in his life with full-on, dive-in-head-first passion. Damn he who should stand in his way.

Smalls had just moved to town, had had begun writing some of his own music. He’s a great song writer, that’s for sure. He wanted to open for us and try a few of his new songs at one of our weekly Wednesday night gigs. We loved to have openers, cause it took some of the pressure off of us, plus they always brought in new faces. And since he was there, and a good friend, we thought it would be neat to have him to sit in with us on a song or two at the show. So we invited him to one of our practices, which he excitedly accepted. Turns out it was the same day we had scheduled to take photos for our press kit, which was not really a problem. We all jammed for a while, teaching the songs to Smalls as we went, and then got ready to take some pictures. Since he was hanging around, he wound up IN some of the pictures. Actually, he ended up in ALL of the good pictures. And just like that, before we knew it, there were five members of Newman. So, we taught him the songs, and worked out some parts for him. Although he was quite talented considering the short [ha short] length of time he had been playing, most of the music was pretty complicated and a little bit over his head. Fortunately, this was during the period of time when we began simplifying the music and playing more covers. It took some time, but he began to find his place… sorta.

Smalls’ first whole show with us was at Wild Wing, right here in C’ville. We had written up a set list, which included a few covers, but we wanted Newman to be known for our original songs, not as a “cover” band. The covers that we did play were pretty obscure songs that only hard core funk, soul, or jazz fans would recognize. But we were playing well, and getting drunk as usual, and having a great time, at least for the first set. During the set break, I went to the bar to, err, “lubricate my voice.” I had a pint glass tip high over my head, when I heard Smalls yelling, “No way, man! Who do you think we are, the [blank]ing Dead? We’re not a cover band!”

I looked over, as had everyone else in the bar, and realized this converstaion was happening with the bar manager. Being that I was the acting band manager, I figured I’d better go handle the situation, so I got up and walked over.”Smalls, calm down. Go get yourself a beer.” He huffed off, still staring down the manager. “Sorry about him, what’s up?” 

The manager watched him walk off and said, “Look, I was just asking him if you guys could play some more songs that our patrons might recognize. That’s what I thought I was getting when I hired you.”

“Did you not listen to our demo?”

“Yeah, and it’s good, but your press kit has a list of all the cover songs you know. I’d like you guys to play more of that.”

“Well, we’ve got our setlist already laid out, but I guess we could make a few changes.”

Then he drew the line; “You can either agree to play more covers, or you guys can stop now, and I’ll pay you half of what we agreed.” 

Damn it. He had me. Sam Hill had booked this gig, and I wasn’t gonna screw them again. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll see what we can do.”

So I called a meeting and explained the situation. Smalls was pissed that I had agreed to it, but the other guys were okay with it. We took a look at our setlist. Fortunately, our second set already had 4 good cover songs in it, out of 12 songs. So, we added “One Way Out” and “Franklin’s Tower,” two songs that every jam band covers because there are only 3 chords in each. We had taken a blood oath not to play these songs, cause they were too easy and way over-played, but tonight was a “special circumstance” which called for exactly that. 

In case you didn’t notice, Smalls was pissed, and if you were there, you would’ve noticed. During the second set, he jumped on and off stage, playing when he wanted, and stopping when he wanted, sometimes in the middle of songs. A few times he sat next to his girlfriend at the table near the stage and played harmonica, sometimes intentionally playing in the wrong key. The whole time he never stopped staring down the bar manager. It was terrible. I was pissed, but I couldn’t help laughing at him. The spectacle he was making was almost better than the show itself. He was acting like a screaming little kid being dragged by his mom through the mall. After the show, I apologized profusely to the bar manager. He paid us anyway, but suggested that we probably wouldn’t ever play there again, which seemed entirely appropriate.

On the drive home, I got a chance to talk to Smalls about what had just happened. He kept pressing the issue of “creative integrity.” And although he had a good point, we were not The Doors, and he was no Jim Morrison. We were just a no- name band trying to build some credibility. We needed as much support from local bar owners as possible, and acting like a jerk didn’t help. I have to admit though, I really admired his conviction, but I’m a business man, and sometimes it’s just business. It took most of the drive home, but I finally drove my point home, or at least he let me think I had…   

Popularity: 24% [?]