The background to that is actually a funny story. I donno if anyone actually reads my long posts but I'll tell it and pretend like everyone does.
So I'm in Cleveland Ohio at a longtime friend of mine's bachelor party weekend. I'm about 2 tabs of LSD and a few shots of rye thru a wild run thru the aquarium when I realized that I was laying on the ground laughing and should probably get away from children.
We peel everyone in our crew off the ceiling and make it to the parking lot. The crew, by my advisement, decides to take some time to collect ourselves before heading to the next attraction and I google the nearest coffee house and we begin walking towards it.
As we get about half way there, I see this awning on the side of a building that says coffee. I'm like damn our wishes came true two blocks early. So we go into the "coffee shop." It's a little weird at first. It has like conference tables. They dont have an espresso machine at all. They just have black coffee and powdered creamer. And they're like selling bic lighters and bags of chips. I'm like whatever tho I'm high as a kite riding a ray of sunshine around the world. So I flop on the nearest softest looking chair and my friends plop down around me.
Were all talking about how coffee is nice even tho its atrociously bad coffee and that were all high and drunk and were laughing and fluff. About this time my third eye squeaks open and I get stuck staring at this painting on the wall. It's like a picture of a little girl helping a homeless man out of a gutter. And I can't pull my eyes away from it. It's both very powerful and extremely meaningful. And then I shake off the nonsense and begin wondering where the hell I am. Like I just in this moment put my finger on the fact that I am not in a regular coffee house....so i get up and see a table with some papers and pamphlets on it. I'm like ok....where am I and approach. And the first thing i look at i realize.
IM IN REHAB
I am completely fluffhoused in a rehab clinic. Like straight up in the coffee and snacks room of a drug rehab. Theres literally recovering drug addicts staring at me as I slowly melt into the wall on a pile of psychedelics and alcohol. I was like OMG WE HAVE TO GO lol. Felt so bad about that hahaha. And I almost stopped doing drugs and checked myself into rehab accidentally lol. Was a close call haha.
So anyways, 800 beers, 35 joints and 12 hours later I've got one eye open and the poor sucker getting married says to me, "Derrick, I know you said you arent coming to my wedding 40 times today, but I really don't have a lot together for this wedding and it's in 10 days. Do you think you could be one of the groomsman?"
I'm like "yeahhhhhh I was always coming to your wedding I just like talking fluff you know. I love ya like a brother etc." And he says well. If you're gonna be there anyways, I dont have any music booked either. Is there any chance you could do the music at my reception?"
So I try to squeeze any intelligent thoughts that I havent completely burned out of my brain for the day and I think to myself, "I just did a 4 hour set at a dive bar called Jiminy Crickets last weekend. I'm high key good for a four hour set." So drunken stupor Derrick is like "Hell yesh I whood play yer wheddin! LESH DOOO EET"
2 days later I'm back in philly and I sit down to what I'd agreed to. I start writing down songs I could play with other musicians attending the event. People in the wedding party I can call up to sing. Just trying to pump out a set list I have 6 days left to work on 5 of which I work on before I drive 10 hours thru virginia to this wedding.
And then it hits me. All the songs I've ever written are about death, murder, sadness, loneliness, etc. Like, I'm genuinely not a happy person and it really comes thru in my art. And all of these country songs I know by john prine or merle are about falling in love with strippers and grandpa being an alcoholic. Like absolutely 0 of my material was wedding ready. NONE.
So I start jamming 50 new songs into my repertoire from Radiohead to Otis Redding including modifying lyrics to songs I've written to make them not about killing your wife on her wedding day or something lol. I am practicing 14 hours a day when I'm not working and sleeping for two. Day before the wedding I'm like a solid 6 songs short but feeling pretty confident for 3 sets. But I'm on a double at work in the restaurant and doing money for the club all night. So I'm squeezed out of practicing a set I dont even fully have together.
So I adjusted. I called in a bartender, shut the music off in the restaurant, clocked out and made the patrons listen to me instead. I spent that whole work shift not asking my boss to pay me, and just made everyone listen to me for the whole 10 hours the place was open. I started drinking about 4 hours in once I reminded myself I was off the clock.
I walked back into the kitchen and my dishwasher told me to play something in spanish so he could laugh at me because my spanish is bad and he knew I was hammered. I said "nah man I actually dont know anything in spanish."
Dude was like "hell nah bro. You speak like 8 words of spanish to me all the time you got this. You write a song in spanish right now. You be the mariachi geeeetar man."
So I kind of knew he just wanted me to drunkenly humiliate myself for his entertainment, and I frankly dont pay dishwashers well enough not to oblige their humor.
The wedding was great tho. The bride and groom even cried during a Ween song which I'd never thought youd see lol. Was I'm holding you off the country album. Funny fluff.
Here's a cute pic to prove it happened
https://pasteboard.co/JMKjeuC.jpg
Boom. Longest post of 2021 undefeated champ Derrick.
EE Patron