The more recent of my musical experiences has been an extended tour of "dueling piano" bars. Well, I'm going to say "extended" because it's been more than one, and anyone that knows me would give pause at the thought of me in a bar. That's part of the story, me being in a bar with a bunch of revelers (originally, I typed "idiots", but that's... well, I typed it anyway, didn't I).

And I've mentioned before, I view performances from a technical perspective. I give support at the end of each song for the demonstrated skill (or the effort of trying). I don't follow along with the ridiculous antics throughout the performance: sing-along, call-and-response, big-O, or even clap-along. In fact, these diversions annoy me to no end because they interrupt the flow of the song and encourage "revelling" behavior.

My expectation when I heard "dueling pianos" was far from what I've experienced. My thought was two pianists playing extremely complex songs and switching back and forth at a breakneck pace trying to outdo the other. That is something that would appeal to my style of audience. Instead I get to hear ah.. Mustang Sally. Every. Single. Night. And Brown-Eyed Girl (with requisite "now just the blue-eyed girls!" sing-along). And a host of other songs that grate on my nerves.

At these places, the players perform requests given by the customers. That doesn't do me a lot of good considering my musical tastes don't line up with ...Mustang Sally - "I'd like to hear ELP's Karn Evil 9, or maybe some rendition of a Steve Morse song. How about Iron Maiden?" I did ask for Karn Evil 9 once and was given a firm shake of the head. So I dumbed it down a bit and asked for something from Genesis. Nope, don't know Genesis. How about Kansas? That resulted in Dust in the Wind. Natch. The least common denominator wins out again.

I've been to Pat O'Briens, which from my research seems to be the original. Despite the very involved crowds later in the evening, their format seems to be best. Not fluff-free, but much more content than the alternatives. I was impressed by some of their players, but even a highly technical song gets old when you hear it every night.

Jelly Rolls would be next tolerable. Same level of fluff, but they have an occasional transitional period where the two sets of players are all on stage. That's good for songs that need vocal power. The audience was more tolerable, but that could be because the bar was on Disney property.

The most recent experience, Howl at the Moon, was what prompted this rant blog entry, so I shouldn't need to elaborate. But I will. The transitional periods like in Jelly Rolls mean the other members form a full band with drums, bass, and sometimes synth. That doesn't sound like a piano bar to me anymore. The response time for requests is outrageous. It seemed a lot of people left before their song got played (including us). And the worst part is the fluff level is through the roof. Bring the audience on stage; participate or we'll shine the spotlight on you; let's explain how to do the sing-along parts; let's try that again, and again, and again. And I know this part is regional, but the performance talent was pretty poor. You'd think the bar that touts itself as the "world's greatest" would be able to find some players that could sing and play. They also call themselves the "world's most dangerous," which has some credence because my senses were assaulted while I was there.

There is an upside to this, though. It kind of renewed my interest in playing, if only to say "Yeah, well I can do that." There are some things I can't do, mostly because of stamina, but that is being worked on right now. if I can get back the endurance I had back when I wrote Interstate and Broken Legs (on the firmest of my keyboards, the RD-600), I'll be pleased.