What were you doing a year ago?

My band Old Beans was in a transition of sorts. We added a guitarist named Levi in February of last year and rocked a couple gigs that month, played one more set in April, recorded one song in Santa Fe, and realized in May that we were losing our practice space at Willy's (our other guitarist) house. The reasons were personal, and I will refrain from much detail other than to say Willy and his wife decided to separate.

Willy took up residence in the Huning Heights District of Edo (East Downtown Albuquerque) at 223 High Street NE. It was a nice old school one-bedroom place with wood floors and a concrete basement. That basement was dusty, contained hay in one corner, and nested poisonous spiders. The band worked out a configuration and set up shop. It would become the new hallowed home of Old Beans.

If you didn't know already, it's not easy to find places for loud rock bands to practice. For one thing, most rock bands are not the best musicians. This was true of our band. Neighbors had to tolerate multiple run-throughs and experimentation with songs they didn't want to hear in the first place. The other reason people don't like rock practice spaces is that bands play LOUD. This was also true of our band. To be honest, the neighbors despised us at our first practice space.

This was not the case on High Street. The house itself rested between Central & Martin Luther King Jr. Avenues. Both of these roads have plenty of traffic. Across the street was a mental institution, so even if tenants didn't like our songs, no one could come outside to tell us to turn it down. We teased Willy by saying if he cracked, he could just walk across the street and commit himself. Behind the space was an alley and a parking lot, so no problems there. Willy knew the tenants to his left. As the manager of a local diner, he had been the employer of some of them, and they all thought good ol' Willy was a swell guy. Those kids even ended up hosting noise rock shows in their basement, calling it The Exxon Valdez. This went on for months until the police shut them down. Lame. That left the homeowners to the right, who worked at the nearby hospitals. They never said 'boo' about our rehearsals, and the band had a safe haven to explore that sinful and loud music called rock n' roll.

I won't say it was all bliss on High Street, despite the cool name. A couple days before our first gig out from the High Street House in July, I cracked. The volume of the band hit a peak for me, and I laid into the rest of the band. Willy was more than ready to bark back, and a couple nasty remarks were made by both of us. It may have been the heat, or a long day in the cab, or just brewing frustration, but I stormed out of practice, not looking back. Tempers calmed the next day, and we managed to put it behind us and play downtown the night after that.

We played a total of 22 gigs over the next eleven months, mostly in downtown bars. We played with local & touring bands. We played Johnny Cash & hip-hop tribute shows. We played a benefit show for APS music programs, learning three songs from another local band. Some gigs were better than others, but we usually felt good about our loud and brash performances.

No matter what, we had the same ritual (more or less) for a gig night: Meet at the High Street House, warm up on a few songs, break down equipment, load up our gear, drive to the gig, unload our gear, drink & socialize & watch bands & wait for our set, put our equipment together, ROCK OUT, tear down our gear, drink & hang out at the bar until the end of the night, collect some cash, load up the equipment, drive back to the High Street House, haul our gear into the basement, and put our fists together & salute BEAN POWER!

Nobody said being in a rock n' roll band was easy, and the lifestyle has tested my toughness on a regular basis. I may be losing my hearing and wearing myself out in general, but I will attest that I am a better man for these experiences.

Last week, Old Beans hauled its gear out of the High Street House basement for the last time. Willy moved back in with his wife. Hooray! A Happy Ending! A lawyer who just moved to town has taken up residence in the High Street House, and he has no idea what we did in that basement. The band will not return to the first practice space. No sense working up the old neighbors and the wife again. At this moment, the new space is yet to be determined, but I have no doubt things will work out. Just a hunch.

The band improved in many ways on High Street. We rejoiced during the fun times, survived the ugly times, but most of all, we became better musicians and friends while playing in that dingy concrete basement. Old Beans keeps getting older, but we just might be getting better as well. Rock on!

Chris Jungle thrives on BEAN POWER!