ND: There’s an old folks home on Frenchmen [the Christopher Inn], and they do sometimes have music. You’d have to be pretty bad-ass to wow that crowd, cause they’re old and mostly local, but if you do it right one of the funnest gigs you can get is doing an old folks home. They’re not that easy come by, actually, as it involves bureaucracy, and you need some type of reference or press kit that is more along the lines of newspaper clippings than a web site.
Cari B’s pretty good at the DYI style, and maybe there was somebody that had heard Irene or something, but we got an old folk’s home gig. This fact might surprise some of you, but we [the House of Cards] do have occasional moments of coherence, and can put up a fairly sane and sober front when needed.
The irony of music is that even as it’s a time-honored craft, it’s subversive, even if you kind of candy-coat it. We want you to feel good and I mean really FEEL GOOD and get down on the floor, yeah? And for some reason this always seems to bother some people, especially the neighbors, and there’s an absurd preconception that old folks are going to want to hear staid and conservative music, but most everyone has memories of some band they saw live that actually made them feel better.
We, of course, also want to feel better, because even though this is about the money, it’s more about feeling better.
It had been a late night; it was our typical House of Cards weekend with Friday, Saturday, and Woo! (sarcasm) Sunday morning at the old folk’s home. I don’t exactly remember if this was across the lake or East, but it was definitely a respectable suburbia/country estate-type area, with the private security and nice lawns. We’re in varying stages of hungover on the way and we’re in “The Sock”, a not immediately conspicuous vehicle, but the tell-tale signs were there, if a giant load of music gear wasn’t already an indication.
We got checked in and placed. We were relieved to be off the road and able to surreptitiously tighten up while tuning up, and then it’s ‘check one, two!’ and that’ll draw some attention, and then Darby’s gonna set up his guitar, insisting on that damn pedal board, and after that the whole neighborhood’s awake. B’ster and I dial in and then it’s all quiet while we do a safety meeting.
The thing about the demographic is that you don’t have to play ‘American Songbook’ for the old folk’s home anymore; it’s best to play the classics, but fifties rock and R&B will work.
The House of Cards would habitually do a long first set, but that day our set breaks were determined by who fainted while dancing, as the rest of the crowd hardly noticed and called out for more. We were hungover and bleary in yesterday’s funky glad rags, but to these people we were young and fresh.
It turned out great. The band didn’t fight much that day and we got paid! There were a couple Nurse Ratchet types, but Darby and B’ster kept them at bay with that boundless enthusiasm that they, and nearly they alone, are not hated for. I’ve had better and worse gigs, but that one was ok.
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*stories from some of the people who live at the Christopher Inn upcoming 😀
(This story was written out by Nervous Duane; not an interview.)
