In the last post I wrote about how my girlfriend flew in and I showed up at the wrong airport. Our band was scheduled to go on stage soon after that, and she had to take the subway with her luggage to the club. Very romantic.
Last year I bought a Rivera amp from the 80s. I always wanted an amp that I would never need to replace. This was an expensive purchase. Next to my car it’s probably the most valuable thing I own.
I plugged in the Rivera during soundcheck, played for a minute, and then it goes out. A burning smell became present.
The amp is down. As per usual, when things I believe I can control become uncontrollable, I freak out in a mixture of anger and fear. I’m also ultra poor right now, so this is a major problem. We have a show lined up in a few weeks, and it’s kind of necessary for the guitar player to possess a working amp.
I was just hoping this isn’t a major repair. I just had to get a new transmission on my car which was the most depressing check I’ve written in a long time.
Thankfully a blues guy who was going on after us let me borrow his amp. At least I could play.
Then, during Hold On, I broke a string and my guitar flips entirely out of tune. After playing dozens of shows over the past year, I’ve never broken a string. But, really, this happens.
Then, I realized I hadn’t brought my backup guitar.
Just to recap…
- I showed up at the wrong airport to pick up my girlfriend
- My insanely expensive amp broke
- I broke a string mid-song
- I have no backup guitar
Our bassist had a second guitar, so I was able to jump back in quickly. But man, what a night. Our set was great and there was a big shot producer in the audience who came with one of her hip-hop artists to evaluate us. She loved the show and told us she’d like to talk more about opening for some bigger touring acts that pass through Chicago. That’s exciting.
I still haven’t removed the amp from my trunk because it’s sixty pounds and also I fear what a guitar tech will tell me. Maybe sperm banks have some spots open. I’m willing to help out our barren sisters. Well, not my sister. That would be gross.
