Strobe Life
We will begin this BLOG with a personal essay. Writing is my profession, stage lighting is my hobby. I suspect that very few entries will be of my being a lighting director. You'll have to suffer through some poetry, perhaps a screenplay (short form) if I can transfer it to this effectively, and general prose from fiction to non-fiction. So - today - let's start with non-fiction prose.
Strobe Life
In the time it takes a strobe light to flash once a human heart rests between beats. The retina of the eye, regardless of surrounding color, nearly slams shut. A bee has flapped its wings once. Most lightening strikes are only one sixteenth complete. All oceans have lost several molecules of water. The Earth entered a new part of space. The Sun increased its size, and you blinked.
There are many types of strobe lights, and most have adjustable settings. Some strobe lights can flash as fast as twenty flashes per second. Most commonly they are set to flash five to eight times per second. Anything greater and the effect diminishes to the light appearing to be always on, but flickering. The repeated effects of a strobe light are known to cause seizures in those afflicted with Epilepsy. The irony is that there are as many types of Epilepsy as there are settings on a strobe light. Most lighting directors, like myself, attempt to create a stepped fast-paced movement of those on stage. Lighting up the Rock n’ Roll stage is a far cry from lighting your neighborhood theater stage. For one, most theater lighting directors have to apprentice with another before they get their own show. In the world of live music performance, in the night clubs and bars of Minneapolis, you could be pulled from the audience and let loose to pound on the light board. That is, if you know someone in the band.
September 1, 1996, was a hot late summer night where I was summoned to experience my friend’s new band. They played every Sunday night at the Cabooze in Minneapolis, and called themselves Greazy Meal. They were getting a reputation for being an outstanding Funk and Rock band who performed classics from the Seventies along with a mixture of new Funky/Soul originals. The word had also leaked out that two former members of Prince’s New Power Generation were in the Band, along with a vocalist who could melt butter, and presumably certain female undergarments(?). I was there to listen and observe the lightshow, which, according to the band, didn’t exist. I was to decide if I could make a difference, if I could turn this show into something more than a band playing in a bar every Sunday. They wanted me to help create a concert atmosphere.
As I watched the very tight musical performance being executed before my eyes, I was already running through lighting scenarios for each of the songs. I could definitely do better than this guy. His lights don’t move, there’s no action to the scenes. He’s just doing color scene changes, and nothing moves to the music. No wonder they asked me to come tonight.
As I was making the commitment to the band in my mind, something unexpected happened on stage. Out walks Chaka Kahn. Apparently, as I found out later, she was in town and talking to Prince, who has seen his former band mates in this setting before, and he tells her that Greazy Meal does a version of her Hit song “Tell Me Something Good.” She had to check it out for herself, I suppose, and was gracious enough to walk on stage (hug the two former NPGer’s and the lead singer,) and sing a duet of that song to the sold out crowd of the Cabooze. It never ceases to amaze me how some really great things happen in the smallest corners of the city at any particular moment. Everyone there that night became a fan of Greazy Meal, for life.
Six years previous, my friend was in another funky little four piece band called Beat The Clock. They were just getting started, getting their feet wet in a few of the smaller local clubs, and no one was running lights for them, as their budget was non-existent. My friend said, “Just play around and have some fun. We’re looking for basic things like fading the lights to black between songs, and maybe making the lights go crazy during really fast up tempo numbers. Have some fun and play around.”
A little intimidated at first by the light board, I slowly taught myself what each button did. I eventually found what they call the “Tap” buttons. These buttons toggle certain lights on and off. These buttons became my best friends. Each light is connected to a fader on the board, and has its own Tap button below the fader. I would place my fingers on the individual Taps and play them like a piano to the music. I would Tap each light in sync to the rhythms. I eventually got pretty good at this and was invited back for several of their gigs. I hit the Taps so fast and hard, I created a sort of strobe effect with the lights. Being in an industry of nicknames, I ended up with one, and it stays with me in the music circle even today. Somebody, I still don’t know who, called me Strobe. All of a sudden, I realized I was a “Light Guy.” I worked for nothing back then except the free admittance into the show and all the beer I wanted in the band room.
Other bands and musical acts desired good light guys, and I was lucky to work for a few of them. Luckier still, I eventually realized, to be asked to be Greazy Meal’s Light Guy. Three of the four members of Beat The Clock were in Greazy Meal, plus the two from the NPG, the talented lead singer, and then the nephew of the man who wrote the pop hit of the late Seventies “Funkytown,” (For those who don’t know, Funkytown is Minneapolis, Minnesota.) Why don’t you take me to – Funkytown… And a very good drummer, who has no particular story of popularity, (but a really good guy none-the-less,) rounding out the band of Eight. Except that they also incorporated two female dancers, who danced in tight clothing to the music, like pretty bookends on the stage. Extra eye candy for those drunken frat boys with glossy retinas opened wide; until I showed up and made them all blink.
Lighting the menagerie of ten individuals on stage with a limited number of lights became more of a task than I had originally thought. Every Sunday I had to refocus the lights so they would hit the places they needed to hit. This included climbing a tall ladder to adjust the front spot lights. There were (and still are) only four front white spot lights and two sets of two front color washes, usually red and blue. (A wash is a front set of lights that bathe the stage in one solid color. You can create a mixed colored wash by using them both at the same time at varying levels. These lights blanket the stage in light and dot not work as spots.) The problem being is there are eight members and four spots. Fortunately, I found out the band was used to this dilemma and knew I wasn’t going to be able to solve it. The band had purchased two strobe lights, which I duct taped down to the stage at an angle and ran them into the light board, so I would have control over them with one of my favorite Tap buttons.
During my third gig ever with this band, they sold out the Cabooze and broke the attendance record for the bar. The bar is capacity, according to the Fire Marshall, at 1200 people. The staff let in well over 1300 that night. This got back to management, and the staff was scolded for packing in so many people. It would be nearly impossible to break Greazy Meal’s attendance record today, as they stay very strict with the capacity numbers.
I was finally earning money being a light guy, and still enjoying the free beer as well. I got to know and like all the members of the band, as they seemed to really appreciate the job I was doing for them. I had some power. If I didn’t turn the lights on nobody would be able to see the band. But I didn’t have any power, really. They would just replace me with someone who would turn the lights on, and fortunately it never became an issue, as it was more of a running joke with the band.
I got stronger and better and more professional with every gig I did. I even developed a bit of fan base, as small as it was, those who noticed the new light show erupting at every Greazy Meal gig. Again, for some reason, they called me Strobe, which was fine with me, as it made me feel like I was one of the cast members in this circus.
I got word from one of the regulars to the show that his cousin, who was 23 or something, was loving the show and dancing to the music, and then had his first epileptic seizure of his life during one of my crazier lighting moments. He didn’t even know he had Epilepsy, this was his first seizure ever. I guess he was fine after being taken to the local hospital, and was actually laughing about the whole ordeal, being quoted as saying, “That light guy kicks ass!”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for this guy our proud of myself? Yet, his cousins who came back to the show after they had taken him home, reassured me that it was a good thing overall. Apparently, the doctor told them his Epilepsy should not go untreated, and it is better to know as soon as possible when you become afflicted. So, OK, this was a good thing? I just smiled and told them to tell their cousin I hoped he would get better, and left it at that on the outside. On the inside, I was jumping for joy. I had profoundly affected somebody with my light show. I had made them blink, and squint, and shake, and swallow hard. I had their head spinning and their mind reeling. And not just the boy with the newfound Epilepsy, but others who would come up to me and tell me they loved the light show. Every Sunday night, the Sunday Night Tribe of Greazy Meal would gather for a concert. They were not just a band to drink to anymore. They were an event, a happening. Sometimes they had a crew member run to Taco Bell across the street and buy a bunch of bean burritos which they would throw out to the crowd. Sometimes it was snack foods, I think, like Twinkies. I didn’t keep up after awhile with their give-a-ways.
The band created a camaraderie with their fans. They kept coming back every week, and they would bring new people who would be indoctrinated into the Sunday Night Tribe. The band would commiserate with those who worked hard all week and chose to unwind and let loose on Sundays. They developed cult-like mantras for the Tribe, shouting catch phrases like “It ain’t easy – Being Greazy!” and “I AM a Greazy MotherF**ker!” All attending were included, and all were welcomed to every show. They were spanked by bright white lights and strobes bouncing off the walls in time with thunderous bass riffs and high powered percussion. Then they were soothed by a version of Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues,” and/or their original song “Away Delilah,” which flowed like sweet honey over the audience.
The central, pivotal event of the evening would come when they played their jazzed up funk original “The Urban Herbalist.” Which was, in essence, the song you became indoctrinated into the Fold, the Tribe. It is a jazz infused instrumental that breaks down into a spoken word performance toward the end of the song. The most important stanzas to me were: “The metaphor for you tonight is this – That underneath the lights the Meal will persist to play - so every Sunday Night - we get the groove on – so you can say, “so long,” - to all that is going wrong in your life – without the use of a pipe – or any media hype - we’ll keep you feelin’ alright, BECAUSE – this ain’t placebo it’s the real feel deal – we call it – GREAZY MEAL!”
It was a very special time in Minnesota music history, as the band got write-ups and interviews in all the local media rags. They did a few in-studio radio appearances, and eventually managed to sell out the largest live music bar in the Twin Cities, First Avenue. An event that is still one of my crowning glories as a lighting director. An event that would prove to be the band’s pinnacle moment.
As time can heal all wounds, it can also create them. And time did just that to Greazy Meal as they eventually broke up and ended Sunday nights at the Cabooze in 1999. It’s not important how or why they broke up; much of it is music business cliché. What is important to me is that I became a valid, real-life light guy. A lighting director. A lighting specialist. I was Strobe, a factor, an effect, a presence in the performance like no other light guy had become, (as far as I knew.) For a fraction of a second, I had something nobody else had - their attention.
Strobe Life
In the time it takes a strobe light to flash once a human heart rests between beats. The retina of the eye, regardless of surrounding color, nearly slams shut. A bee has flapped its wings once. Most lightening strikes are only one sixteenth complete. All oceans have lost several molecules of water. The Earth entered a new part of space. The Sun increased its size, and you blinked.
There are many types of strobe lights, and most have adjustable settings. Some strobe lights can flash as fast as twenty flashes per second. Most commonly they are set to flash five to eight times per second. Anything greater and the effect diminishes to the light appearing to be always on, but flickering. The repeated effects of a strobe light are known to cause seizures in those afflicted with Epilepsy. The irony is that there are as many types of Epilepsy as there are settings on a strobe light. Most lighting directors, like myself, attempt to create a stepped fast-paced movement of those on stage. Lighting up the Rock n’ Roll stage is a far cry from lighting your neighborhood theater stage. For one, most theater lighting directors have to apprentice with another before they get their own show. In the world of live music performance, in the night clubs and bars of Minneapolis, you could be pulled from the audience and let loose to pound on the light board. That is, if you know someone in the band.
September 1, 1996, was a hot late summer night where I was summoned to experience my friend’s new band. They played every Sunday night at the Cabooze in Minneapolis, and called themselves Greazy Meal. They were getting a reputation for being an outstanding Funk and Rock band who performed classics from the Seventies along with a mixture of new Funky/Soul originals. The word had also leaked out that two former members of Prince’s New Power Generation were in the Band, along with a vocalist who could melt butter, and presumably certain female undergarments(?). I was there to listen and observe the lightshow, which, according to the band, didn’t exist. I was to decide if I could make a difference, if I could turn this show into something more than a band playing in a bar every Sunday. They wanted me to help create a concert atmosphere.
As I watched the very tight musical performance being executed before my eyes, I was already running through lighting scenarios for each of the songs. I could definitely do better than this guy. His lights don’t move, there’s no action to the scenes. He’s just doing color scene changes, and nothing moves to the music. No wonder they asked me to come tonight.
As I was making the commitment to the band in my mind, something unexpected happened on stage. Out walks Chaka Kahn. Apparently, as I found out later, she was in town and talking to Prince, who has seen his former band mates in this setting before, and he tells her that Greazy Meal does a version of her Hit song “Tell Me Something Good.” She had to check it out for herself, I suppose, and was gracious enough to walk on stage (hug the two former NPGer’s and the lead singer,) and sing a duet of that song to the sold out crowd of the Cabooze. It never ceases to amaze me how some really great things happen in the smallest corners of the city at any particular moment. Everyone there that night became a fan of Greazy Meal, for life.
Six years previous, my friend was in another funky little four piece band called Beat The Clock. They were just getting started, getting their feet wet in a few of the smaller local clubs, and no one was running lights for them, as their budget was non-existent. My friend said, “Just play around and have some fun. We’re looking for basic things like fading the lights to black between songs, and maybe making the lights go crazy during really fast up tempo numbers. Have some fun and play around.”
A little intimidated at first by the light board, I slowly taught myself what each button did. I eventually found what they call the “Tap” buttons. These buttons toggle certain lights on and off. These buttons became my best friends. Each light is connected to a fader on the board, and has its own Tap button below the fader. I would place my fingers on the individual Taps and play them like a piano to the music. I would Tap each light in sync to the rhythms. I eventually got pretty good at this and was invited back for several of their gigs. I hit the Taps so fast and hard, I created a sort of strobe effect with the lights. Being in an industry of nicknames, I ended up with one, and it stays with me in the music circle even today. Somebody, I still don’t know who, called me Strobe. All of a sudden, I realized I was a “Light Guy.” I worked for nothing back then except the free admittance into the show and all the beer I wanted in the band room.
Other bands and musical acts desired good light guys, and I was lucky to work for a few of them. Luckier still, I eventually realized, to be asked to be Greazy Meal’s Light Guy. Three of the four members of Beat The Clock were in Greazy Meal, plus the two from the NPG, the talented lead singer, and then the nephew of the man who wrote the pop hit of the late Seventies “Funkytown,” (For those who don’t know, Funkytown is Minneapolis, Minnesota.) Why don’t you take me to – Funkytown… And a very good drummer, who has no particular story of popularity, (but a really good guy none-the-less,) rounding out the band of Eight. Except that they also incorporated two female dancers, who danced in tight clothing to the music, like pretty bookends on the stage. Extra eye candy for those drunken frat boys with glossy retinas opened wide; until I showed up and made them all blink.
Lighting the menagerie of ten individuals on stage with a limited number of lights became more of a task than I had originally thought. Every Sunday I had to refocus the lights so they would hit the places they needed to hit. This included climbing a tall ladder to adjust the front spot lights. There were (and still are) only four front white spot lights and two sets of two front color washes, usually red and blue. (A wash is a front set of lights that bathe the stage in one solid color. You can create a mixed colored wash by using them both at the same time at varying levels. These lights blanket the stage in light and dot not work as spots.) The problem being is there are eight members and four spots. Fortunately, I found out the band was used to this dilemma and knew I wasn’t going to be able to solve it. The band had purchased two strobe lights, which I duct taped down to the stage at an angle and ran them into the light board, so I would have control over them with one of my favorite Tap buttons.
During my third gig ever with this band, they sold out the Cabooze and broke the attendance record for the bar. The bar is capacity, according to the Fire Marshall, at 1200 people. The staff let in well over 1300 that night. This got back to management, and the staff was scolded for packing in so many people. It would be nearly impossible to break Greazy Meal’s attendance record today, as they stay very strict with the capacity numbers.
I was finally earning money being a light guy, and still enjoying the free beer as well. I got to know and like all the members of the band, as they seemed to really appreciate the job I was doing for them. I had some power. If I didn’t turn the lights on nobody would be able to see the band. But I didn’t have any power, really. They would just replace me with someone who would turn the lights on, and fortunately it never became an issue, as it was more of a running joke with the band.
I got stronger and better and more professional with every gig I did. I even developed a bit of fan base, as small as it was, those who noticed the new light show erupting at every Greazy Meal gig. Again, for some reason, they called me Strobe, which was fine with me, as it made me feel like I was one of the cast members in this circus.
I got word from one of the regulars to the show that his cousin, who was 23 or something, was loving the show and dancing to the music, and then had his first epileptic seizure of his life during one of my crazier lighting moments. He didn’t even know he had Epilepsy, this was his first seizure ever. I guess he was fine after being taken to the local hospital, and was actually laughing about the whole ordeal, being quoted as saying, “That light guy kicks ass!”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel bad for this guy our proud of myself? Yet, his cousins who came back to the show after they had taken him home, reassured me that it was a good thing overall. Apparently, the doctor told them his Epilepsy should not go untreated, and it is better to know as soon as possible when you become afflicted. So, OK, this was a good thing? I just smiled and told them to tell their cousin I hoped he would get better, and left it at that on the outside. On the inside, I was jumping for joy. I had profoundly affected somebody with my light show. I had made them blink, and squint, and shake, and swallow hard. I had their head spinning and their mind reeling. And not just the boy with the newfound Epilepsy, but others who would come up to me and tell me they loved the light show. Every Sunday night, the Sunday Night Tribe of Greazy Meal would gather for a concert. They were not just a band to drink to anymore. They were an event, a happening. Sometimes they had a crew member run to Taco Bell across the street and buy a bunch of bean burritos which they would throw out to the crowd. Sometimes it was snack foods, I think, like Twinkies. I didn’t keep up after awhile with their give-a-ways.
The band created a camaraderie with their fans. They kept coming back every week, and they would bring new people who would be indoctrinated into the Sunday Night Tribe. The band would commiserate with those who worked hard all week and chose to unwind and let loose on Sundays. They developed cult-like mantras for the Tribe, shouting catch phrases like “It ain’t easy – Being Greazy!” and “I AM a Greazy MotherF**ker!” All attending were included, and all were welcomed to every show. They were spanked by bright white lights and strobes bouncing off the walls in time with thunderous bass riffs and high powered percussion. Then they were soothed by a version of Marvin Gaye’s “Inner City Blues,” and/or their original song “Away Delilah,” which flowed like sweet honey over the audience.
The central, pivotal event of the evening would come when they played their jazzed up funk original “The Urban Herbalist.” Which was, in essence, the song you became indoctrinated into the Fold, the Tribe. It is a jazz infused instrumental that breaks down into a spoken word performance toward the end of the song. The most important stanzas to me were: “The metaphor for you tonight is this – That underneath the lights the Meal will persist to play - so every Sunday Night - we get the groove on – so you can say, “so long,” - to all that is going wrong in your life – without the use of a pipe – or any media hype - we’ll keep you feelin’ alright, BECAUSE – this ain’t placebo it’s the real feel deal – we call it – GREAZY MEAL!”
It was a very special time in Minnesota music history, as the band got write-ups and interviews in all the local media rags. They did a few in-studio radio appearances, and eventually managed to sell out the largest live music bar in the Twin Cities, First Avenue. An event that is still one of my crowning glories as a lighting director. An event that would prove to be the band’s pinnacle moment.
As time can heal all wounds, it can also create them. And time did just that to Greazy Meal as they eventually broke up and ended Sunday nights at the Cabooze in 1999. It’s not important how or why they broke up; much of it is music business cliché. What is important to me is that I became a valid, real-life light guy. A lighting director. A lighting specialist. I was Strobe, a factor, an effect, a presence in the performance like no other light guy had become, (as far as I knew.) For a fraction of a second, I had something nobody else had - their attention.
posted by Lon Kaner | Thursday, March 18, 2004
3 Comments:
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