GUEST POST: A Typical Memorable Gig by Stormin Norman
Stormin Norman and Suzy Band were booked at Andy's by the Sea, Horseneck Beach just down the road from Fall River, MA It was a glorious dump, the kind of place they were right at home in; moldy, beer-soaked wood, beer ads from 25 years back, a pitted dance floor; neon lights over the bar that zipped on and off. But this like every night was major combat; to win the audience over and make them love the band. There was always that chronic reshuffling of the set list to insure that the flow would work - Norm gets up to the piano, pipe clenched in teeth, and bangs and bangs, head shaking crazily while Tommy bangs and bangs on drums and Bobo slides wildly up and down his fretless bass and Dave shrieks and squeaks through his alto saxophone. And then - the grand diva takes the stage!! Before the gig Norman walked out along the jetty to a rough, churning sea. As he often did these days, he meditated on his simple goal; get to New York City, make a big stir, get a record deal. Something about the beauty and wonder of the scene made him compose a song in his head, “Queen of the Rosebuds.” There was an early moon rising and a bracing cool breeze over Buzzard's Bay. The club was already filling up with scruffy but lovable characters when he returned. As usual the dressing room was a littered storage space behind the bar, and Suzy was perched on a pile of six-pack cases, busy pinching her cheeks then smearing lipstick on them to insure that ripe apple northern California farm girl look, fluffing her scarlet boa, and fussing with the set list. A fight was sure to ensue, as Norman always sought to pack the set with blues covers and their own selection of home made rockers; Suzy always insisted, to the contrary, that Norman show his "artistic" side. Artistic? To this bunch of already sloshed bikers? It was always best to do exactly what Suzy ordered. But once on the bandstand Norman would respond to the shifting vibes of the crowd, and change stuff around - instead of “Green,"with its dreamy arpeggios, "Every Day I Have the Blues" in its place. The honest fact was that they were succeeding in holding their mangy barroom circuit by treading a well-worn path of blues covers; “Every Day I Have the Blues, “ “ Hey Bartender,” “Sissy Strut,” plus some kicked-up Bessie Smith covers - from the start Suzy had been channeling Bessy, and could do this like nobody's business, “ Tain't Nobody's Business. “ But back to the start; that moment of expectation when Norm mounts the stage --- playing an old beaten upright that sounded like it had fallen in the bay a few times.. One never knew exactly whether the reaction would be indifferent, amicable indifferent, though hopefully not hostile. The point was to grab them…. and this Suzy never failed to do, stomping, kicking, strutting, begging, caressing, bawling with that huge voice of hers The first tunes had a number of the onlookers hopping merrily . In mid-set they would do one or two of their routines - the one about the train, where Norm intoned the names of 20 Massachusetts towns concurrently imitating the sound of a train chugging slowly into rhythm, faster and faster, until the point where the Tommy would grab the beat and the band would kick into the changes of “WrongSide Boogie.” Suzy was having a good time, ordering a steady supply of southern comfort - her recent drink. Problems set in, as they always did. She began to slur words, forget verses; and what had been carefully rehearsed monologues slid into drunken monologues; for a time amusing to the crowd, but driving Norm crazy, as cues were missed. Predictably at one point the edge of the stage was missed, and Suzy spilled overboard into a bunch of happy drunks, who good-naturedly picked her up and handed her yet another drink. And this was just the start of the first set. Back in the dressing room Suzy was livid with rage. How come he had changed the setlist without confirming it with her? She began throwing punches at him - not dainty, but real solid
haymakers at his head and shoulders. “Why did you change the set list?” Norm tried to hold his ground -- no way “Green” would have worked there, hey we killed so what the big freakin deal? This merely elicited more rage, and she began to kick as well as punch. Beer cases began tog tumble and the bartender wandered in to check on the fuss behind his bar. “Nothing going onl" Norm said- as he always said; "we're just having a discussion.” “Sounds like boxing match to me; ” mumbled Butch the bartender and returned to his station.
This was pretty much how every night was working out at this time. One good way to deal with it Norm found was to start drinking himself. At this time - 29 or so, solid physical condition, he was a pretty good drinker himself, and could down a series of Jack doubles without too much discernible damage, toddling back into the back room to check the new list that Suzy had promulgated. Each list- lovingly handed to the band members, was personalized with a sketch of her trademark cuckoo bird and a lipstick kiss.
At these times the other musicians had learned to keep their distance; musically tight from playing 6 gigs a week in 3 different states; also human-relations tight from working 6 nights with Suzy and Norman. Norm toddled to the bandstand, drink in hand, to begin his customary boogie boogie intro. He could see Suzy at the bar, cozying up to a hunk who was obligingly plying her with more southern comfort - a sneaky and insidious drink. After the huge intro of” I was born to sing,” Suzy staggered up on the stage, smashed her tin “pursolator” (coffee pot she used as a purse for shows) onto the piano, and raged into a savage medley, leaping, time and again courting disaster at the edge of the stage (a cunning drunk, she was turning this into a stunt to the great delight of the crowd). Then as he began the intro to one of their songs Suzy abruptly ordered the band to stop playing (Norman, who valued smooth segues, was always bugged when she did this) and launched into an exceptionally long drunken monologue about something or other. The monologue seemed to go on forever. He tried several times to introduce the chords to the next song in the hope of shutting her up, but no luck. She abruptly turned to the band to yell "I don't want to sing this now, do you want to play it?" The musicians were smart to the flow, and energetically agreed with her, offering several alternatives, all of which she rejected. The crowd started growing a bit restless. Norm hopefully began the chords of another up-tempo rocker, but instead she insisted on one of their most artsy and (to a drunken biker crowd) seemingly incomprehensible ballads, about the sea, sky, wild birds, full of wild starts ,stops, lyrical arpeggios and interesting changes . . .Norm went along of course. And the strange thing is that the sodden, tattooed crowd took it in and loved it, and loved her ….. "See" she yelled at Norm afterwards,, "I was right." Fortunately she was willing to end the set with a customary crowd pleaser - BlackEye at the RedEye,” that boogie song he'd composed in Portland Maine years back, basically a dialogue between a couple that urgently want to have sex, with the chromatic refrain: "telling you how I feel .. ;laying it down for real." Everything ended up excellently, on a sublime, toasted, rocking vibe; there had been passion, drama, good time beat, even art! Good feelings all around, the cash register jingling constantly behind the bar, and more losers swarming in before last call. The two stars embraced at the bar, basking in a moment of musical triumph, and had a drink.
Three months later they were in Carnegie Hall, doing a double bill with Manhattan Transfer. Four months later they signed with Polydor.
Connect with Norman online:
https://open.spotify.com/artist/1cV7aWzcoeFUKKfEuAk62z?si=PPhBJ_kyRG6IiSC0fMOwzQ&nd=1
https://www.instagram.com/normanzamcheck/
https://www.facebook.com/zamcheck
