Mission of Burma Tour Diary, Part Seven

As the legendary Mission of Burma make their way down the West Coast on a week-long trek, guitarist Roger Miller shares his tour diary with Pitchfork. Stay tuned for daily entries ("Of course, it depends a bit on free WiFi," Miller says.)

Here's part seven, in which Burma plays San Francisco.

Read part six here.
Read part five here.
Read part four here.
Read part three here.
Read part two here.
Read part one here.

Wednesday, September 20:

After I pulled out my "cocktail piano" versions of Burma songs in the van yesterday, everyone was so amused we played them over the house system before we went on in Sacramento. This "cocktail piano" thing is something I started in 81 or so-- parodying how a cocktail-ish version of our songs might be (parody of a parody). When we were finishing The Obliterati, Bob had heard me doing my piano version of "Spider's Web", which has a Chopin/Satie kind of feel. So he had me record that and whatever other ones I could recall in an hour.

So there is a quasi-Latin version of "Academy" which brings out its Burt Bacharach qualities, a bombastic version of "Johnny Burma" which Pete thought sounded like Beethoven, but I thought more like Chariots of Fire, and a hysterical bolero version of "OK/No Way" that brought tears to Clint's eyes. We might post these on MySpace some day. Or perhaps release a five-CD set of this stuff. Well, maybe not. Bernard (50 Foot bassist) was baffled when he heard them coming over the PA-- "I felt like I knew this music, but couldn't figure out why." That's what it's all about...

This morning Bob was riding down the elevator at the Holiday Inn Express, and, fully manifesting his pocket-protector archetype, was reading the "literature" on the walls of the elevator. And he saw that the elevator's Certificate of Inspection had expired. Dutifully, he informed the woman behind the desk of this oversight on their part. She was most grateful. If more people were like Bob, the world would be a safer place. (What happened to the days when rockers threw televisions out of hotel windows instead?)

Keats (our manager) arrived in S.F., so now we're at full personnel. Tonight's venue: The Great American Music Hall. Really cool, very ornate ballroom. Our hotel is a only few blocks away-- the Phoenix, i.e., Rock Hotel S.F. The piped-in tapes of bird calls have been deleted, but it's still charming as hell. Both Bob and I swore that the outdoor pool used to be shaped like a guitar, but unless they did a fabulous patch-up job, it never was.

The Great American Music Hall: pretty awesome

The cooks at Gr.Am.Mu.Ha. did their job and supplied us with a really good dinner. 50 Foots went on and everything about the night seemed good: Big enthusiastic crowd, a large enough stage to actually move around on with great sight lines, and good sound. The crowd definitely had a crush on the 50 Foots (understandably).

It was one of those nights where from the first chord ("1001") to the last encore ("Learn How") it felt really really good. We've always done pretty well in S.F., and I considered this gig to be the centerpiece of the tour. (L.A. is gonna have to tweak itself up big time to come close). Our "uncommonly played song" for tonight was "Invisible", and while it was clear that most people had never heard it, they copped the groove.

After the show, good hanging, if briefly, with friends I have around here. A very satisfying night.