Rockaroke and Rock and Roll Injuries!

First, lets get the Rock and Roll injuries out of the way.

My entire left side looks like a battlefield.

On Friday night, I went out to see the magnificent Chuck and Jeanette's sons play music in their duo, "Two Buck Chuck". They were so wonderful. Harmonies that can only come from brothers and 2 guitars played with skill and joy. They did fun and fantastic arrangements of pop songs. 2 Irish brothers singing Brittany Spears' "Hit Me Baby One More Time" and Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean" (and they tacked on the ending of "Layla" to that one.)

Well, I was so enthralled with Sean and Ryan's music that my inner drummer came out. Forgot I had one. This percussionist slapped my left leg silly. I woke up the next morning with a 5-inch-square bruise above my left knee! I felt absolutely NO pain when I was keeping the beat. I laughed out loud for at least 5 minutes when I saw the bruise. Reminded me of that fantastic music and how much it connected me with what I love most in this life.

My second rock-and-roll injury happened last night at The Snoqualmie Casino's lounge, while watching the pop culture wonder, Rockaroke - the live band that lets YOU be the lead singer.

You see, since I've been so musically deprived these past 15 years or so, whenever I hear any music, especially LIVE music, the air changes all around me. I act like a starving woman at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I am voracious. I hunger for it ALL. The music enters my body all at once, and takes total control over all of my senses. I hear everything. I catch every beat and nuance and guitar lick. If there is an unexpected and (presumably mistaken) chord, I hear the humor in it. I giggle and laugh and smile and clap my hands (and of course, let that inner-drummer out). My body starts moving and simply won't stop! I'm sure I must look like some sort of whack job or somebody with a seizure disorder, at times.

Well, I can only imagine what I looked like to the overly exuberant man at the bar who came up to my chair from behind and GRABBED me and PULLED me OUT OF MY CHAIR and onto the dance floor last night during the Car's hit "Just What I Needed". But, he kept pulling me and I was thrown down onto the dance floor with a mighty force. On my left side. From the middle of my back to my hip, I was flooded with excruciating pain. I could tell he was mortified that he had caused me injury, when his alcohol-soaked body only wanted to dance. In order to save face, and I guess, make him feel better (was that a healthy decision? probably not) I decided to just get up and "pogo" around the dance floor - or whatever we called that type of dancing in the 80's.

So, battered and bruised, I must talk about Rockaroke, the band playing at that casino lounge.

First of all, a CASINO. Holy crap. Such a different slice of life than I'm used to. Snoqualmie is amazingly beautiful. It is built in a Northwest rustic style and is designed to recreate a Native American Long House. Filled with loud slot machines and cigarette-smoking glassy-eyed gamblers. The side walls are lined with sushi bars and cigar bars and buffets and delis, to nurture the hungry gambler. Since the casino is on tribal land, it is OK to smoke. EVERYWHERE. (had to go home and use the neti pot to rinse the crap out of my nostrils!) Last night, I saw more breast implants and polyester than I've seen in years.

But the band. Rockaroke.

What a concept! Great cover band musicians who have made a niche for themselves and can play 3 nights a week locally! Singers pick their tunes from an 8-page set list of tunes (that's a LOT of songs for the band to memorize!) and speak to one of the women singers before every set, to sign up to sing.

The women singers were both fabulous - they only had to do one song each, at the beginning of each set to kick things off. The list of rock star wannabes was lengthy. But, they were also so very supportive of each and every person who got up on that stage, coaching and cheer leading and singing back-up vocals. Hard to believe, but they performed as ego-less performers who championed the crowd.

And what a singing crowd it was. From the off-key Tom Jones impersonator (whose tunelessness was like atonal jazz...somehow merging and meshing in a completely new way with the chord changes, creating sonic satisfaction) to the frumpy large woman, wearing orange Chuck Taylor high tops, who absolutely KILLED with Tina Turner's "What's Love Got to Do With It?", I could see how many souls were screaming to be heard.

Rockaroke is therapy, in a way that Karaoke can never be. Live music, with actual flesh and blood musicians is a major form of communication that cannot be denied. Once you've tried it, you must have it again.

Well, I had to have it. I sang 2 songs last night, memories from my old cover-band days.

I was a bit too passion-filled when I sang my first tune, The Police's "Every Breath You Take" but I have always loved singing that one, mostly because I do the bridge like Janis Joplin, in a plaintive, desperate wail. And then I bring it back down to an eerie stalker-like calm, during the ending chorus. Because the record is sung by a man, I can completely make it my own when I perform it.

After waiting forever, I'm happy to say that my second song choice, The Pretender's "Brass in Pocket" went even better. I took my sister's advice and sang it a bit under-stated and saucy and had a blast. I don't think Rockaroke had played that tune in years - they hesitated a bit at the beginning - but it was great fun. Again, I do believe I'm getting much better in making these cover tunes my own and singing them like I sing jazz tunes - by living each and every word.

I can feel my confidence returning and am sure my singing is improving!

Despite my injuries!