Shredmaster T. Fire goes nu-metal

 

 

Anyway this all started on Monday 1/28 when I decided to go the NAS

Oceanna food court for a tasty Asiago Caesar Chicken Sub (yummy stuff).  For

something to read I picked up the latest issue of Nine Volt.  This is the

underground hippie-music rag for Hampton Roads Virginia.  It is laughable

compared to the Bay Area Guardian.  Regardless there was an article that

this lame rap-metal band who had sold millions of albums is holding open

auditions for their new guitar player Friday at the local Guitar Center. I

figured trying out for L--p B----t would like kill all my credibility.

Not only have I countlessly lambasted their musical statement, they also

just plain suck.  But I thought I could play their stuff and that way I

could enjoy more of a rock and roll style in my twenties than any

paper-pusher job would provide.  This could be my way out.

 

Before the audition I had get all ready.  I decided to dig out my

totally metal dip-stick guitar known as the B.C. Rich Bich.  I thought about

wearing baggy pants ass-backwards, but I figured my Sam Adato's drum shop

t-shirt will work fine.  I wasn't too hot on trying out but I figured I

might regret if somehow I actually got the job.  Basically they said you

know they're lame but they could be your way out.

 

So Friday rolls around and at seven AM I through all my shit into my

fly oldschool BMW and head down to Guitar Center.  I'm thinking, "Damn

there's going to be all these teeny bopper and tattooed wanna-be's kickin'

there."  Sure enough, when I arrive there is a line of countless

long-haired, wallet-chain, vans wearing wanna-be's waiting to sign up.

They're not converse all-star wearing, short haired, ray-banned, A's jersey

wearing wannabe's like me.  After waiting for an hour, I'm given number 100

and told to wait by the side of the building.  I found out like the first

ten people showed up the day before.

 

I walk along the side of the building past the usual suspects.  Finally

I come to the end and wait.  It wasn't too bad because then I started

talking to all the guys around me.  Most of them were like me, guys who have

played the guitar for ten years, didn't much care for the band, but decided

to give it a shot cause being the guitarist for Lame Biscuit is better than

sitting in a cubicle.  Besides I found out the last guitarist in the band

was into like John Zorn, Terry Gilliam movies, and all that other weird shit

all the Berkeley art people were into.  So if anybody chastised me for

getting the spot, I'd say well too bad 'cause you know I'd be on like TV and

stuff.

 

At about 11:30 I came to the front of the line, only to find out that

it was to sign "The Waiver."  Basically this stated that I was an employee

for L--p B----t for the day and that anything I played was property of L--p

B-----t and thereof in facto that if said musical group uses guitarist's

idea on forthcoming album herewith said musician surrenders idea and

forthwith band assumes neither responsibility or liability.  basically I

can't sue them if they rip off my stuff.  I realize though that if they

didn't do this, some guy in Fresno would sue them for using the riff he

used for his audition.  So I signed.

 

Then I got to hang out in the parking lot for the next three hours

waiting for my number to be called.  However I did not mind this because for

February 1st this was an exceptionally nice day being about eighty degrees.

Also there were other guitarists around and we would jam Pink Floyd and the

Who and some Cowboys From Hell era Pantera.  There were these two dudes with

an acoustic guitar who sang the Big Red commercial song and the theme for

Mentos.  That was the highlight.

 

Finally I get to the front of the line and it's time to enter the store.

I'm led to a smaller line (this is my fourth line of the day) where I wait

to go into a small soundproofed room to do my magic.  I was told that I'd be

given sixty seconds to do all I can.  I was not allowed to play any cover

material and I was not allowed to solo (for those who have lived in the same

house as me know that is all I do).  I was going to do one minute of

straight two handed tapping and wammy bar dives but I figured I'll do that

killer riff I came up with on my four track after drinking 40's back in

1997.

 

As I wait I can hear what the other guys are doing.  I heard the same

recycled Tool and Slayer riffs that I end up doing sometimes myself.  I had

to something different.  If you're given sixty seconds you got to stand out.

 

So it's my turn, I'm led into a room and I meet some A&R guy not much

older than me.  In the room there is also another guy who could be like the

bass player or something, he didn't look like Fred Durst but I couldn't

tell.  I thought I'd meet this Fred guy but I didn't.  Anyway I plug in and

do my thing.  First I play this demonic riff in D-minor that had some indie

rock influence ala Birthday Party.  Then I went into my tritonal moody

Mahavishnu chord progression, and end with some stock heavy riff that I

thought might be like the Deftones or something.  The whole time the A&R guy

is like headbanging.  Either he was into it or he was patronizing me.  In

sixty seconds he cuts me off, high fives me, and says great riffing man.  I

leave and that was the end of that.

 

Elated I roam around guitar center.  I heard that a couple of guys after

me choked cause Fred Durst walked in on his audition.  Well, what can you

do.  Anyway I'm told that they will announce the finalists between five and

six for a chance to jam with the band.  So I go to McDonalds, wait and come

back.  Finally the manager of Guitar Center emerges, announces that some

finalists have been picked but will be notified by phone, henceforth the jam

will take place at a later date.  Everybody goes "aaahhh" and goes home.

Basically it's don't call us, we won't call you.  The next day in the paper

I read that no one was picked and that the A&R guy felt that although there

were capable guitarists, no-one stood out.  I was like damn, I ended up

playing the same recycled Tool and Slayer riffs.

 

I knew all along that this is probably some publicity stunt and they had

already pre-picked some guy to take over.  Just to be on the safe side, they

probably had him go through the same audition at some other Guitar Center (22

in all) so just to cover themselves.  I did not take the audition that

seriously and I figured it would have been something different to do.  If

the weather had been bad I wouldn't have done it.  Besides being outside and

doing that was a lot more fun than sitting at my lame temp job.  I knew I was

capable of being the lead guitarist for some band.  Someday Ozzy will call.

 

Wang Chung,

 

Shredmeister T. Fire

 

 

P.S.  The real money is in lounge lizardry.