Roseland

Now that we'd rehearsed our tails off, it was time to present all of this hard work to the universe. The process began June 10th when the crew loaded out of our rehearsal space and into the 53rd St. stage entrance to Roseland. The following day we arrived around 2pm and sound checked for the better part of the afternoon. The lighting and sound people did their thing, glitch-free. The cyclic rituals of catering, searching for friends on the sidewalk, and wardrobe all came and went uneventfully. The house gradually filled as people successfully collected will-call tickets, wristbands and VIP passes. A look into the audience turned up familiar faces, a smattering of celebrity guests, such as Steven Van Zandt of Springsteen/Sopranos fame, and assorted dignitaries from the Bowie universe (Carlos Alomar, Tony Visconti and Widoff among them). Photographers loaded film (or memory), and a television truck on 53rd St. readied itself to broadcast a bit of the first single, 'Slow Burn,' which we were due to play around 9:15 or so. Outfits were tweaked, ear monitors plugged in, and we were led to the stage. The lights dimmed and the crowd signaled its readiness. We hit with DB's announcement that we'd be performing two albums - in sequence - this evening, the first being 1977's 'Low,' which was one of his favorites, yet rejected by RCA at the time of delivery (with a telegram stating the labels' preference that he go back into the studio and serve up 'Young Americans 2'). With that we launched into an energetic version of 'Speed of Life.' The first five or so tunes from 'Low' were a blur - after rehearsing for so long, it was a joy to play these tunes for people. All was going deliciously according to plan.

Then the power failed.

Such is the course of things, I guess. Most likely we drew too much current, what with a stage full of amplifiers, PA, and a ton of lighting gear. It happened in the middle of 'Warszawa.' Needless to say, that brought me back down to earth - it didn't ruin my night, but it planted my feet firmly on solid ground and out of the ether. Once we negotiated our way out of that one, we continued with the rest of the 'Low' instrumentals without incident, finishing with the moody 'Subterraneans.'

After a short break we broke into the 'Heathen' album, which went down a treat and without a hitch. It felt more like an event - a premiere performance of a work - than a rock show. After another short break we did several hits as an encore set. This three set approach would become the standard whenever we performed the 'Low' album.

Carlos Alomar was backstage after the show, and I got to be in this shot with him. Though I wasn't specifically into his work in my teens I absorbed it readily, given how musically impressionable I was during those years, plus the depth of radio playlists in the 1970's. When I first began playing with David I had to learn a lot of Carlos' parts. To my surprise, I already knew plenty of them - that's how etched in my brain they were. They just made sense to me, and felt natural. He was clearly a strong yet indirect influence on my development as a guitarist, among others in that amazingly diverse era.

Lights, Camera, ...... Wait.

We then embarked on a week of television promo, all of which went pretty well. The 'Today' Show necessitated a 4:30am wakeup call for a 4:40am car (which I can get away with, being male). It was so early I don't remember even doing it.

TV is usually a lot of the classic 'hurry up and wait' syndrome. You rush around and do sound and camera checks, all under the stressful direction of the TV people. Time is of the essence, and things are timed to the nanosecond. Union rules dictate who can touch what, stand where, breath what air, etc. They run the song (or songs, if you're fortunate) into the ground, then ... lead you to a dank room where you get to wait for a few hours with a tray full of strange sandwiches and wraps, tepid coffee, and a television monitor tuned to the ongoing rehearsal of the program. Leaving the set is frowned upon (in the case of NBC it's near impossible, as there seems to be only one working elevator in Rockefeller Plaza), so one is reconciled to taking a seat.

If you're lucky, you get a free T-shirt.

And, you get to see bits from the show which don't make the cut. Sometimes they're deemed to be too risque or offensive to certain people (this was especially true when we did Saturday Night Live) Too bad, as these were often the most amusing pieces.

Not that I'm complaining or anything.

'Top of the Pops' was shot out in Queens of all places. We had to bring in a remote truck to mix the sound as they had hopelessly unsatisfactory gear. Television is a real crap shoot when it comes to sound - many times you're expected to use the audio equipment the video people have, which is fine for dealing with a few microphones or cart machines, but not for a band with something like forty inputs. To their credit, programs like SNL, Letterman and Conan have their act completely together in this respect, and their respective engineers (Jay Vicari, Michael Delugg, and Julie Perez) are ace.

Speaking of remote trucks, we also brought one in specifically for our little gig in Battery Park in early May, as this was to be broadcast on MTV and the facilities provided were definitely not going to work for us. As in TOTP, we called the Effanel truck from New York with John Harris behind the desk. John has done this with us so many times now I've lost count (counting from the first VH-1 fashion Show in '96, it must be in the dozens). Needless to say, he shows up and does his thing, and we're sorted.

One interesting program was called 'Live By Request' - which, at the end of the laborious rehearsal process, didn't feel much like either! We rehearsed for this program on the Friday afternoon/evening after our early morning 'Today' show performance, and the band was exhausted (our crew were burnt to a crisp - they'd been up nearly a day by that point). I had to finally pull the plug, as the collective blood sugar level had sunk to a dangerous low and fangs were being bared. The next afternoon we were back for more of the same, as camera angles and sound checks were done over and over again as we ran through countless tunes. By 5pm, we were toast. I figured any spontaneity would be left on the cutting room floor along with ... well, the best bits.

I understand why they need to do it this way. It's live television, so the director and camera people really need to know the songs, when there are solos, etc. Still, it can tend to wring the life out of a performance. In the end it came off really well, which is a testament to how great this group of people really is, both musically and personally. We enjoyed the gig and it went off effortlessly. DB always comes through in the clutch anyway, and I think his energy got us all through this particular show ... he was fab.

In the end the main controversy involved the seating. It was organized by a woman with zero tolerance and absolutely no patience - especially for the hard-core Bowie fans, who were in many cases relegated to a side room to watch the show on television. Some never made it in off the street! Those who know me know that I generally don't go negative on people in print ... but this situation was completely absurd. My guests had problems getting in and seated, so I took it under my own initiative to escort them through. Seeing what I was up against, I had chosen and marked off a couple of seats beforehand - incurring the wrath of said seating organizer. When I found my guests and led them to their seats, one of them had been occupied by one of the Ramones (I forget which one). We exchanged pleasantries and chit chat - discussing topics ranging from the new Bowie record, 'Rock and Roll High School,' and Staten Island. I explained how I'd saved these particular seats, and asked him to please move over one so my guests could sit down. At this point he appeared to lose his hearing. Other seats nearby were still available, so rather than make a scene (Ms. Zero Tolerance was hovering like a vulture) we simply readjusted, and I went to join my bandmates in wardrobe.

Then again, we didn't have to wait around too much. I guess there's no pleasing me.