Sgt. Peppers Post Boxing Day Mayhem

On Sunday the 27th of December 2009, Sneakin' Out is performing "Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band With A Little Help From Their Friends"

at Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi.

When Sneakin' Out first formed the three of us lived together, rehearsing through the day and into the night. We lived at 3939 SE Madison. The Beatles music was becoming a large part of our cover repertoire and that was all right by me. Ever since I had acquired a bootleg CD recording of "Sgt. Peppers" in mono I had heard, for the first time, what all the fuss was about. Don't get me wrong, I was a devout "Revolver" lover. Every sound was a tympanic tickle that had never been attempted, especially in pop music. "Rubber Soul" too, with it's songs of love, longing and automobiles. But I digress. So when it was time to choose a "performance piece" "Sgt. Peppers"

seemed like the perfect choice. It was fun, mysterious, experimental and classical (hmm sound familiar?). We three starting learning the songs in a random type of way. We started with "Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds". Being a child of the 70's I had been in love with the version performed by

The Elton John Band w/Dr. Winston O'Boogie (Lennon) on guitar and vocals, so it seemed an obvious choice to me. Beyond the six notes at the beginning of "Dancing Queen" it was the first song I played on the glockenspiel. Next up was "Penny Lane". Although "Penny Lane" did not appear on "Sgt. Peppers" proper, it and "Strawberry Fields Forever" were the

start of the studio journey The Beatles were to embark on for the next two years until the rooftop performance during the "Get Back/Let It Be" debacle.

I remember learning the solo with Dave Deluka in the "studio" basement at 3939 starting so slowly it didn't even resemble the finished performance. Six hours later it bordered on a kind of recognition to it's actual sound. This was only made clear to us from Cheddars' yelps of approval as he listened to us repeat the solo cornet line for the umpteenth time. And then on the 7th day etc... I don't truthfully remember the order in which we learned the rest of the songs from the album, I wish I could say I do. "Within You Without You" was early on as well as I was using a shrudi box to help establish the drone along with Cheddar's rolling bass note. A shrudi box is a harmonium without keys, basically, with valve-holes that air moves through creating different pitches. Sadly, it has since been sold.

We started assembling an orchestra in the living room of the bungalow house at 3939 starting with clarinet and french horn. Performed by our publicist and booking agent at the time Vicki Reitenauer and Carol Gabrielli.

There does exist a few video snippets of the five of us learning "Sgt. Peppers" the song and "With A Little Help From My Friends". Then it just started to happen. So-n-so knew a violin player who has a wife who plays viola. I know a trumpet player. One day a young woman showed up with a violin, I opened the door and she said, "I'm...here for "Sgt. Peppers". This continued until we reached critical mass and rehearsed with a set number of players. This group was dubbed "The Billy Shears Orchestra".

The choice to do the first performances at Mississippi Studios was two-fold.

1) Jim Brunberg had expressed interest, and Mississippi Studios was the place to play. 2) The number 39. I believe things happen in life you can choose to see or dismiss. Just because you see them doesn't mean you have any true understanding of their meaning, stuff just happens. While living at 3939 SE Madison, we looked into perhaps a larger residents. While driving to my folks house in Tigard, I passed a for rent sign in Multnomah. I had gone to grade school in Multnomah when the arts center was still a grade school. The house from the sign was on Spring Garden a side street off of 39th where we had lived in Multnomah when I was a child. I pulled up to the house and surprisingly the address was 3939 SW Spring Garden. When I told the others about it they were a little woo-woo but not much else. The next day, after living at the Madison address for 10 years, we received mail for 3939 SW Spring Garden. That was a little more than woo-woo. Later that day in going over venues we found out from Jim Brunberg that the address for Mississippi Studios was in fact 3939. WTF?

We performed two sold out shows at Mississippi Studios, our first such shows. It was a very emotional experience for us the musicians and the audience alike. I remember numerous people singing along and crying. I remember the line of people in the rain waiting for tickets to the second show that was added only minutes after the first one sold out. We also did a show in McMinnville, Oregon a thriving community about an hour-an-half-by-car from Portland in the heart of the wine country. It was performed at 3rd Street Pizza a movie theatre/pizza parlour. At this show we projected films of the BSO and other friends behind us, standing roughly like the crowd of inspirations on the cover of the original album, as we played the music. Everyone stood completely still to give the impression of a static image. As this video was sans sound I would give random direction to random members such as scratch your nose, or yawn. This inevitably would garner some response from the keen punter in the stalls. During "She's Leaving Home" all the women present in the crowd walked out of shot, leaving the men looking at each other confusedly.

We performed two more shows a few months later at Mississippi Studios, as well. At these I unfortunately had strep throat and don't remember much about them at all.

"Sgt. Peppers" has been performed many times since then in different configurations. It's first performance proper was just the three of us, at one

of two gigs we ever played at "Rock Creek Tavern", before the BSO was a

reality.

I hope you will join us in the upcoming concert. If it goes in true typical Sneakin' Out fashion it will completely resemble and be utterly unrecognizable from previous performances. It's getting better all the time.

Postscript:

A few months after the original performances of "Sgt. Peppers" we were able to play the High Sierra Music Festival with thanks due in part to Jim Brunberg. When we arrived at the campsite we received our itinerary. Our campsite was number 39, of course!

Why Illinois, Why?

Although most of my family originally hails from there, being on the road only brought me to this questioning question. Land locked and flat surfaced. Lost in the middle of America like a child abandoned and left to create it's simple state of being (no pun intended) Illinois plodded on and on like any recent Hollywood film, aimlessly to no specific resolution. I hear you saying what about Chicago. Hey, Chicago is great! I've been there many times, but it's still in Illinois. The stretches of barren land broken only by tarmac veins, repeat themselves in a cult-like chant of nothingness interrupted by murders of crows here and there and Stepford towns with glassy eyed children suffocating in the humidity. Ice cream smearing their lips. Best to cross yourself and keep an evil-eye handy just in case of recognition.

When I was a child we visited here and I was so taken by the electrical storms and the fireflies. Lights in the teaming darkness of middle America's

shadows and secrets. Hidden agendas, clandestine bigotry, unspoken desire.

These are the things I learned from my relatives here in this place at 12 years of age. It seems as though these things have not changed although time has ravaged and stolen as much as it has passed by. Forgive my need to express such things. Were they to remain unsaid they would just gnaw at my core like bad infection. Besides, I'm only looking out the window as they pass by, to be forever engraved in my mind like a living tombstone of a time

where innocence was lost for good, for better or worse. I'm not sure which

that might be.

Happy Birthday Log

You're better than bad, you're good. I love you. GAA!!

Meeting In Nashville

The last time I was in Nashville I had just witnessed the complete working of a room. My manager/uncle had just raised a chant of "Steelers! Steelers!" and revved up all these guys wearing Pittsburgh regalia and they were all chanting for our singer to sing. Our guitarist led her onto the stage. "Just one number" said the baffled MC as they began "This Man" a wonderful country mini-drama where one woman warns another woman of a particular mans foibles and misadventures with yet another woman (and booze). At the conclusion of this number the bar roared it's approval as the two launched into another number, this one entitled, "I'm Gonna Dance With My Baby". I stepped out the front door onto Broadway to get a breath of fresh air. We had been doing this about four hours now, up and down Broadway. I turned and manager/uncle was there behind me with a beer in his hand. "Isn't this great, Donnie" he said to me. I hate being called Donnie. "I don't think you can have that beer outside, I think it's against the law." I said as a very well dressed cow-couple walked toward us. "Is it against the law for me to be drinking this out here?" manager/uncle enquired of the two-steppers. "I believe that it is, sir." drawled the cowboy back at manager/uncle. With this he chucked the almost full Budweiser into the unsuspecting oncoming traffic of Broadway and staggered back inside the bar. I followed quickly behind. She wound up singing three songs before they asked her to kindly leave the stage so the featured performer could earn his pound of flesh.

This time we are in Nashville to meet JD who has successfully driven our van of equipment all the way from Portland with our filmographer 20yrs his junior. I suppose they didn't have much to talk about but JD did get to envision him in all kinds of different life-drag. Dresses, robes, turbans, sequins and the like. We were still reeling with the news from the the rental car that no matter what Expedia said the extra mileage would cost us so much more and since we already signed a contract our lumps would just have to be taken. What a racket. Sort of like insurance, but we'll get to that shortly.

We checked into our No Name Inn and situated ourselves between the smokers and the non-smokers. Beer was bought and unwinding started almost immediately. JD was as southern as they come. Spinning yarns around us west coasters until we were just a big ball for him to bat around.

"So what do you do?" "I drive a truck." "What do you haul?" "Pianos, mostly used Bosendorfers." "Really" "Yeah, they're knock-offs." " 'S that so." "In Alabama." "Nice." "Oh you poor things I'm gonna have to send a lifeboat to reel you back in" We fell for pretty much everything he said. My favourite story was about his dog Elvis who had died and how he had a lot of female dog friends in the neighbourhood. JD would see all of Elvis' children but when he called to them none of them would come to him. Pretty funny stuff. I could just see him on Comedy Central sitting on a half-made bed smoking a cigarette and telling you how mama would mutter "Lor' Lor' Lor'" as you watched her wig walking away from you.

In the morning me and the guys met up with Mr. Love. Mr. Love was the bass player in the project where the three of us had initially met. We had lunch at a decent bar and grill and reminisced about old times and even some of the new ones. Mr. Love and our singer had gotten married not too long after the whole project had turned into one big long knife in the back. She was out of town as luck would have it. We finished lunch and headed back to the rental car so we could follow Mr. Love to their abode. As I approached the passenger door I noticed the indentations first then the scratches. They were on both the passenger front and back doors. Unbelievable. We had only gotten liability. Now at two days into the tour we were already at least a thousand dollars in debt and had yet to play a single note.