My first band was homeless.  So we practiced outdoors.  People would watch us for a minute and shake their head in disbelief, wondering how a band could sound that awful.  One day we practiced a song for an hour straight.  It was a "country and western" song that I had written.  An audience of one patiently watched us mangle the song.  Afterwards, "Juan" (I forgot his real name) asked us to play at his birthday party.  We immediately agreed.  Juan promised to pay us $100.

We arrived at Juan's basement party, somewhere on the deep south side of Chicago.  Juan gave some helpful advice, "If they start fighting, keep playing.  If they start shooting, stop."  It began to dawn on me that this might be a different sort of party...

As we finished our last "song", I noticed a heightening chaos.  Kids were yelling and screaming while barricading a door.  They failed.  In marched 30, no lie, 30 cops with guns drawn.  A gangbanger started mouthing off to the cops.  They beat the hell out of him, as 150 silent little lambs exited the basement.  In an adjacent field, the cops had the kids lay on the ground.  After a patdown, the crowd was dismissed.  That was that.  We collected our $100 and went home.

For no reason at all, a few years later Lou and I got together and recorded that "country and western" song.  I'm on guitar.  Lou is playing drums, bass, and singing.  Here it is...

Unhip - Eventually.mp3