Doing The Dirty Work (7/17/23)

With all the prep work lined up, we are off on the road. The months of preparation, accumulating alongside grueling uncertainty, have nearly driven me off of the proverbial artist’s road, but we are here now. On the road to our first gig and eager. 

Behind the scenes, a lot has been going on, the typical scenario for any working-class band. This whole idea began this time last year. I was at my cousin Paul’s engagement party in Ventura. I played a song for the small crowd of friends and family attending and we got to talking about us playing his wedding. Little did I know how much work it would entail. “Yeah sure, we can play whatever you’d like.” A couple months later he sent us a list of about 25 songs. Some we knew, and some were at least familiar. But a handful we had never heard. Soul classics, jazz standards, and pop hits from the 80s to today, many out of the typical range of what we do. The challenge however was wholeheartedly accepted.  

January of 2023 we got to work. It was a long process of adapting to new styles and sounds, leading up to the day before the wedding. I feel confident. We know the material, the sound is there. Now it’s a matter of getting us to where the redwoods grow tall, beautiful Big Sur. A welcomed relief from another steamy summer in New Orleans. 

We are currently riding to Houston’s Dan Electro’s Guitar Bar in my 97 Chevy Express. This baby has been my biggest challenge. $3000 got me the band van of my dreams. Bought from a Ukrainian or Russian man selling it for his boss. I wasn’t sure what that meant, the man was the manager of an apartment complex, but I was happy to take it off his hand. That was in February of 2023. Since the purchase, it’s been in and out of the shop nearly 4 times. 

When I first got “The Gap Van,” as we lovingly call it in reference to the 1970s soul band and its license plate, it barely ran. The battery wouldn’t stay charged. A parasitic drain I was told. I didn’t know what that meant, but I quickly learned. Its funny looking back at how little I knew. I tried take out the radio, not knowing you had to remove the dash, and destroyed it. Flash forward to June 2023 and I’m putting in my own radio. 

The list of repairs is lengthy, tedious, and boring unless you are into fixing up cars. But it’s running now. The last repair was putting in insulation to hold in the cool air from the recently fixed rear AC. A necessity for driving through the worst heat wave in modern history. 

Dry Heat (7/18/23)

No, we haven’t listened to “On The Road Again” by Willie Nelson yet, and it’s a damn shame. But the road is long and the sun is high. The Last Podcast On The Left and Behind The Bastards have been keeping us entertained. We are all feeling good, the excitement has set in and everything is running smoothly, including the AC. The band, two of whom have never been this far west, are all adjusting to the dry heat. 

Road antics aside the first night in Houston was a reunion and celebration all in one. It felt great to reunite with our former and forever harmonica player. His Mom was kind enough to let us crash at their house, providing hamburgers, sweet melon, and generosity. 

I always find the first day of any major road trip, tour or not, is a tough one. Your mind is not prepared to spend multiple hours cooped up in a car. We left at 10:30 am, arriving in Houston around 430 PM. Sean crammed us into his homemade shed and we power-learned 6 Supercharger songs. Gritty, blues-centered, harmonica-led songs that Matthieu and myself helped him record in 2019. A brief overview and some quick notes helped us get everything in order and drenched in sweat we headed out. 

Dan Electro’s Guitar Bar is a great space. Large back patio, two stories, and a nice sound system. And they pay! The all-important dollar that keeps little rag-tag groups like ourselves going. Although it was a Monday night and the room wasn’t exactly packed, their generous guarantee greatly helped us on our journey. A recently renovated blues club that opened sometime in the 40s, they run a great venue over there. 

Special thanks to Ashley from Astralace, a great dream-pop act from Houston, for saving the day. One of the risks of DIY touring are the shady, wishy-washy folks out there offering help with no intention of following through. A man named Chad offered us the opportunity to place his condo complex in Austin. Eager to fill in a date, and convinced by his enthusiasm towards our music, I accepted. To be fair here I shouldn’t have trusted this man in the first place. He saw us playing in Jackson Square and after some small talk, we garnered up this deal. Two weeks before the departure date I asked him if he had anywhere to stay. Lo and behold he had moved to LA on a whim and forgotten to tell me. 

This type of stress is not never ideal. An immediate rush of adrenaline, anger, and confusion sends you rushing to your computer and phone. Sending out emails, texts, and phone calls to whomever you can. Ashley came through for us and I cannot thank her enough. Chad, the elusive condo owner, promised us a makeup gig. Still no word from the bastard. So if there is any advice, an inkling of wisdom to pull from this experience, it’s twofold. These are lessons that I’m learning more and more every day. 

Don’t put too much trust in fairweather friends or in this case unorganized gig opportunities, and be flexible to where the road takes you. I guarantee you the gig in Houston last night was more fun and paid better than that little condo show in Austin would have ever been. 

If you want the real truth, the raw emotions behind all this, I should have known better. I shouldn’t have been so eager to fill in a date and cancel out the extra work it would have taken to book a better gig (although I had been trying for quite a while at that point). A big part of doing what we do is knowing your worth, something I struggle with. But it all worked out for the best, didn’t it? 

Exit 1 (7/18/23)

One exit outside of California is where it happened. The rigors and stress of traveling long distances, especially in the pervasive heat way that spread across the Southwest, left my insides twisted up and tongue-tied. Feeling impacted and defeated we crawled up to the border, deciding it best to fill up before entering California, and then it hit me. A stunning exit.

We finally made it, to California, the land of milk and honey. I hail from these golden shores, as do Nick and Dave. Dave hasn’t been back in over five years. Brimming with excitement and riddled with heat exhaustion we are traversing Palm Springs at the moment. It’s been a long 72 hours for us, all of it flying by in a blink of an eye really. 

From Houston, we drove 12 hours straight through Texas. stopping to grab gas and whatever roadside snacks and we are well stocked. We made a Costco run before leaving to avoid using up to much loose change. Peanut butter, jelly, bread, dried magos, bananas, trail mix, and granola bars have all been playing their part in fueling us. All of which you think would help my previously mentioned predicament. But it took the magic of coming home to loosen me up it appears. 

Sun-baked and exhausted we pulled into the Rosewood Bar and played a rocking set. Tuesday nights are notoriously a bad time in the music business. Both the bars and musicians generally make little money. This proved to be true but it was still a great gig. The people you meet and the experiences you make sometimes make up for a lack of financial gain. The folks in El Paso were extremely welcoming and happy to have us. We made a lot of new friends and had a lot of fun. It is what it is sometimes. Regardless we did make enough to get us to our next stop. 

Thanks to our friend Job Boubon of the Debonair Dirt Bags and The Dirty Hands, we stayed with a man named Eli Whitney. He owned two RV plots high in the Burro Mountains of New Mexico near Silver City. Operating a musician retreat of sorts, he commonly extends his generous hands to road-weary musicians like ourselves. Although we pulled into camp at 4:45 am he left the light on all night for us. What more can you ask for? 

What Is Going on In This Town? (7/19/23)

Phoenix, AZ was exactly as we expected. A concrete-filled hell hole in the middle of the desert. Brimming with solar-powered angst and tenacity we were welcomed into the battery with a flat tire. On the bright side, if it wasn’t bright enough, it was at that point, and still is, the only issue the Baby Carriage, a 1997 Chevy Express,  has encountered. A trek across the American Southwest is long, treacherous, and sweltering. Needless to say, we are proud of the old girl. The hours of work put into our maroon behemoth paid off.

We deliriously changed the flat. When I say we I mean the royal we. It was a peanut gallery affair as Matthieu, our mechanically minded drummer, ripped off the bolts of the deflated tire and put a very dusty spare on. Nick acted as project manager while Colin had the excellent idea of using the flat tire as leverage to pop off the last stubborn bolt. With our minds melted by the heat, and three days of long driving, we headed to the Dirty Drummer, a dark country-western bar in the heart of Phoenix. 

Justin Armstrong, our humble engineer, and good friend, got us in touch with August Manley. His day job as a Waylon Jennings struck me with great intrigue upon first hearing about him. Tonight it was him and a lead guitar player who only went by the moniker “Country. Shortly after meeting him, he let us know he wore his good cut-off shorts to the gig, certainly living up to his name. 

They played a great set of originals with a few Jennings covers peppered in and then we took the stage. The crowd was light but we put on a good show. Nick, our gregarious Sax player had just flown in from New Orleans to meet us, so it was a lively show. All the hours of driving lead to a lot of pent-up energy getting released almost immediately. We stuck to a blues-centric set as it seemed to fit the crowd. 

You see its all about reading the room when you have such a large set list as we do. The small crowd in a dark and dingy bar? Head to blues, Country, and maybe some New Orleans music. Popping nightclub atmosphere, as it was in El Paso, bring out the funk, soul, and pop. Pepper in the originals that match that style and you got yourself a great set and a happy crowd. Feels good to know your hard work learning all those songs eventually pays off. 

With $300 in our pocket, not bad for a slow night, and a belly full of free food, we headed to Nick’s friend’s one bedroom apartment. I almost immediately passed out, knowing I’d have to get the tire issue taken care of in the morning. Colin, Dave, and Matt stayed up chatting and drinking a water bottle full of fireball on the balcony. 

The next morning Dave boldly and assumingly proclaims “Colin you really did a number on that Whiskey.” “We Dave, we” Colin assuredly replied. Seems like they had a good time. I was off to get the tire fixed. After stopping into three separate tire shops, one finally had the means and time to get us back on the road quickly. Luckily it was only a valve issue and a new one cost us $7. 

Preparation and planning saved me and the band a whole lot of headaches. If you are going to buy an old, shitty van and fix it up be sure to do it right! That being said I highly recommend Minor Mechanics in Chalmette and Fred and Larry’s on Galvez. They got us where we needed to be safe. 

Now The Fun Really Starts (7/20/23)

We left Phoenix around 10:30 am, two hours after our planned departure time. Turns out my oil cap was missing and on top of that we need some ice for the road. With some of us hungover and some of us just drained from the excessive heat we scrambled around Phoenix looking for these two items. Jumping in and out of the van like a circus act we ended up skipping the ice until a later destination. 

The show at Topa Topa Brewery was a joyous affair, although a bit behind schedule. LA traffic, not matter how much we tried to avoid it, along with our tire snafu had impeded our arrival time. Family and friends were waiting as we quickly set up. Dr. Rizo, our beloved doctorial trumpet player made the journey up from LA himself to join us. He recently graduated Med school at Tulane, taking up a residency at UCLA. We were all overjoyed to see him and personally, I was over the moon to show my family what I had been developing over these years. 

A band is like a fine wine, it only gets better with age. The amount of time we have been playing together, 4-7 years depending on which member we are talking about has surely paid off. While the sound system at Topa Topa wasn’t ideal we still made it sound supremely tasty. Harmonies were on point and ripping solos were taken by all. My mother had the biggest smile on her face and all my family members and friends, who had seen me or some iteration of my band perform in the past, were floored. A homecoming for the ages. 

This whole trip has been a scramble. Running from the venue to the road, to gas stations, to wherever we are sleeping. We took advantage of the few small hours we had to enjoy ourselves and headed to the beach. Burgers in hand, stopping at In and Out being a California tradition, we enjoyed the salt air for a few short minutes before sleepily crawling to my brother’s and parent’s houses. 

Now it’s off to the wedding, the big event. The thing that has taken up so much time in my life for the past 6 months. At this point, all we can do is do our best. But the fact that we made it here, after all this planning, is almost enough for me. 

The Big Day (7/22/23)

This was it, the big day. After all the months of planning, organizing, and practicing we had finally arrived. The crew assembled at my parent’s house in the Ventura Hills around 8:30 am. Half the guys had slept at my brother’s while Mattheiu, myself, and my loving girlfriend Sam slept at my parents. She had flown out to California on Wednesday and spent time with family. I had all the closest people in my life with me in one room. Heading to the same location for the same purpose, to celebrate. A truly joyous occasion in my life and one I will never forget. 

Rushing to the brewery out of the desert like a troupe of Mad Max characters had left us a little woozy. The decent sleep received by my brothers and our parents helped us regain our sense a bit. We took a side route to kill some time and of course that backfired on us. The beautiful drive through Cachuma Lake and the Los Padres Forest was interrupted by a 20-minute stall due to construction. After clearing the delay we slowly chugged our way up to Big Sur. The mountainous roads of coastal California proved difficult for our beloved Baby Carriage. Hardly making it past 55 mph uphill, she struggled to reach the top of most slopes. But she pulled through in the end, as we knew she would. 

That night we partied amidst the redwoods. Stacks and stacks of pizza were delivered and we mingled with family and friends. A curious pizza courier, who we affectionately dubbed Pizza Girl as the night went along, quickly forget about her pizza duties and joined the party. After a few drinks, she took a strong liking to Sam and demanded many things of us. She wanted an impromptu set, an announcement about her lost backpack, and a private concert from the one and only David Ginger. She got about none of it, although David did pull out his Trombone. She ran off before any bone was blown, however, and we all enjoyed the musical stylings of Mr. Davey in the dark. 

The next morning we ate breakfast with my family and went out to the venue. We were nervous, it was something we’d never done before. But we put in the work and knew what we were doing. 30 minutes of instrumentals and jazz standards welcomed guests into the beautiful venue. The venue, snuggled into the side of a mountain, featured three terraces, with our stage at the top. A welcomed change from the dive bars and urban venues we are used too. It was my time to shine after everyone took their seats.

I was asked to perform “You and I” by Ingird Michaelson, a beautiful and touching song, as the wedding party walked to the ceremony area. My voice was tired from the road but I could still hit the notes I needed. The party walked out in pairs and I played through the song. But as I stopped, I realized the party was still moving! I looked at my cousin and in a humorous moment, right before I got off my stool, he asked me to keep playing The crowd laughed and I pulled it off by repeating some chorus until the party had walked onstage. I noticed some wet eyes out into the crowd and despite my nerves, I know I did well. 

“Signed, Sealed, Delivered” began as soon as the couple had their first kiss. It was a tremendous moment and the energy was filling the air. We played for about an hour, creating atmosphere and good times, and then I assumed some MC duties. After dinner, around 7 pm, we began again. This time repurposed as a fiery dance band, ready to wow crowds with our plethora of pop and dance tunes. And we did just that. I’ll say this, it wasn’t perfect, but everyone loved it. In fact, we were told by the coordinators that we were the best wedding band they’d ever seen! 6 months of practice had sharpened us into a finely tuned groove machine. We were ecstatic and still are. 

Music is never perfect, you cannot be the perfect musician or have the perfect song. Live performances are going to be different each time. Separate entities from each other even if you are playing the same songs. The crowd dictates your success and in this case, it was a huge one. The relief I felt after carrying this huge boulder was immediate and methylating. I still feel it, along with a strong sense of accomplishment and pride. My family loved it, Paul and Alix loved it, and above all we loved it. It’s good to diversify yourself as a musician, even if it means some long hours of extra work. 

Rejoiced and renewed we sank into the Big Sur night. Our work was not done yet however, we had to make it home. 

The Longest Anyone Has Ever Been In A Car (7/23/23)

We got the Baby Carriage an oil change in Monterey. Once we pulled the Maroon wheel into a Jiffy Lube we were greeted by a cheery attendant named Devin. Aftering finding out we came from New Orleans he immediately passed us a pen and later took $20 off our oil change. We like Devin and you should too! We grabbed some Mexican Food, hit a dispensary then headed out. We were not prepared for the road to come. 

We were, but we weren’t. Oh, we will be home in no time, it can’t be that bad. But 30 hours is 30 hours, no matter how you chalk it up. Many of us were hungover as the trip began, not helping matters much. After leaving coastal California the temperature started to heat up again. With dread and wonderment, we proceeded back into the desert, while the lonely Joshua Trees dotting the landscape waved farewell. 

Nick and Dave had been assigned the day shifts, while Colin and I drove at night. Matthieu doesn’t drive, but his angelic presence is enough for anybody. We switched every 6 hours or so to make sure everyone was well rested. As comfortable as the Baby Carriage is, she is not easy to sleep in. If you set on the back bench and rest your feet against the luggage you can get a decent snooze. If you are David Ginger and can sleep anywhere and everywhere, all while snoring like a beached Walrus, then you are fine. For the rest of us, we struggled onward in a sleepy and confused state. 

The only real stop we took was at a gas station in New Mexico. I decided an hours rest without the car moving was probably a good idea. After refueling our bodies and the van we headed back out. Finally, we reached Texas! Fuck now we are in Texas! With an icebox full of dispensary goodies on top of that. David was behind the wheel and almost tempted those officers to pull him over. “Can’t catch me slipping” he’d gleefully reply to the parked police cars on the side of the road. We traveled the speed limit, no more no less, for most of Interstate 40.

By the time we got to Louisiana, it was nearly midnight and we still had 7 hours to go. Colin and I took the wheel for a few hours but the long drive and dark roads took a toll on our roads. Then, as if knowing it was his dusty all along, Nick stepped in. He took over from me at about 4:30 am and got us home at about 6:00 am. Dave was dropped off to his loving wife Peyton and rushed off to work two hours later. Apparently, he made it through the day, even starting to move into his new house afterward. 

Certified road warriors, we had all earned it. It has been a day now since we got home and I don’t think my mind has completely adjusted. How can I just return to normalcy like this after the adventure we had been through? I can’t, yet I have too for a while. But with its maiden journey a great success, the Baby Carriage will soon be back out on the road. We are planning a weekend through Mississippi in September, a longer one to Florida in December, and a little trip to Colorado in the Spring. 

The best part of it all, we got paid! It was a financial success on top of everything else. A good tour needs all components to operate successfully. No one wants to come home broke, but no one wants to have a terrible time while making money either. 

I will be keeping up this blog to extend past the road. But first a little rest and relaxation for us all. Back to the daily grind, but now with a little piece of the desert in our heart. 

The Future Is Now | (Live Music In The Modern World)

And we are back. The road has been kind but it’s back to our sedentary swamp life, at least for a little while. 

While that is not entirely true, we took a trip to Mobile and Hammond these past couple of weeks, it seems that for the short-term future, we will be in New Orleans. 

We are heading to Tupelo, Ocean Springs, and Mobile at the end of the month! I am a liar! I can’t sit still for too long after all. 

If you made it this far it means you are a least a little curious as to what our little ol’ band has been up to. It has been a while since I’ve made a blog post, but I have gotten a lot of positive reception about it. For that, I say thank you! I wasn’t sure if anyone was going to read this and just to know a select few are is very encouraging 

So what does the Duane Bartels Band do next? We became a wedding band. It was a physically and mentally exhausting journey. We went out of our way to learn 25 or so songs for this specific set, and we didn’t even play all of them! 

If you are looking for a wedding band in New Orleans, look no further. Refer to our booking section for contact info. 

But who are we now and where does the future go for us? The task of learning these songs, fixing a van, booking a tour, fixing a van again, and driving across the country really took it out of us. Especially me, poor little head honcho Duane. I was exhausted. I didn’t want anything else to do with weddings. 

But as the tides of time dictated, I had to go to another! Two high school friends of mine had a beautiful wedding along the outskirts of the Sierras. A tiny little ski lodge town called Lake Alpine. 

I provided some of my services, hosting an open mic the night prior to the ceremony. It was mild experience compared to the previous wedding I entertained at. But with a little help from our friends, it was a great success. 

So back to the grind huh? That is, back to the complications of the New Orleans music scene. Pay tends to be bad, but you love playing music. But you gotta pay bills, right? It beats working a service job again. Think you’re better than the small-time gigs you’ve been taking? Well someone else who is just as hungry as you, but new to the life and not tainted by the economics of the business is ready to jump in at any minute. 

It’s a complicated mess. I think Jan Ramsey over at OffBeat broke it down best. 

So this leaves a somewhat daunting situation to jump back into. Granted this summer has been one of the slowest and hottest you can remember. The tourist will be back in no time. And you’re bills will be paid again. The threat of losing a gig is still on the table, but you’re good. You know what you’re doing. 

It’s hard to make the right decision here. You want to play as much as you can, but you need to get paid. 

Here at The Duane Bartels Band, we made the decision to perhaps be a little more selective about what we are doing. Playing 20-something gigs a month under one name is a blast. You are living it, up close and personal. But are we getting what we are worth? 

Then there is your own music. In a world full of cover bands you shine out like a diamond in the rough. Some original music on Frenchman Street, even Bourbon? Hard to come by. 

You want to join the ranks of the creative elites, working day jobs to support their art at night. But that generally means you make a lot less money. You play fewer gigs, but more people may show up. You can make fans in a whole new world of music. 

It’s a duality I’ve been struggling with for a long time. I’ve managed to carve out my corner of New Orleans doing what I do. It’s a large accomplishment, even if its small. But have my creative passions suffered?

Electric Baby Carriage has been out for a few months now and reception has been good. Three radio interviews, an OffBeat Review, and many online interviews! We’ve had our music played in Hawaii, France, and who knows where else! Thanks to some hefty PR work, with funds that possibly could have been used more wisely elsewhere, you secured quite a few playlist spots with reputable creators. But you’re burnt now. Burnt on the seemingly impossible idea of “breaking through.” Simultaneously burnt from the endless French Quarter musician hustle. 

But when I’m up on stage all these deliberations seem to disappear. 

Well here is one thing I am sure of. I love playing music live and entertaining people. I love creating music and recording music. Doing both these things wholeheartedly can be a struggle. But there has to be some sort of balance!

We’ll see how things pan out, but if anyone scrawled through my ramblings this far then I want you to know we have new music coming!

We recorded a single with our friend Louis Monroe at SunDrip Studios last October. A 7-minute epic called “The Desert Song.” Justin Armstrong, our brother behind the boards, has the files and we are working on a mixing/mastering schedule. Once again money is the issue, but the funds will come. 

After that’s said and done we plan on recording two new singles. “Eazy Sunday” and Mid-Morning Moonlight.” We’ve been playing these live for quite a while and they seem to be fan favorites! Justin will take the reigns on this one once again. Now that we’ve found our engineer soulmate there’s no going back!

 Talks of recording drums at the Elis Marsailas Center have got us excited. 

Till next time.