Posts Tagged ‘Rising Lion’

What do you get when you stuff 5 reggae musicians, a whole heap of instruments, and 4 drunk girls in a white fifteen passenger van?

My next story.

I was playing once again in Denver with Danny Dread and Rising Lion. We just finished a gig and were driving back to the hotel. Were acquired some (click!) —–> travel companions and were headed back to rest up.

As we trudged down the road I began to notice ( but not care ) that the conversation was getting louder and louder. It was like a party where everyone knows and loves each other.

… and are drunk as vikings.

Although the driver was fine, we were all busted up, but too hammered to care. We are all checking out the girls, laughing and enjoying the fact that we just got paid. The fact that we were going to a hotel with our new friends was a big bonus.

I think after the third cop car was passed, we were loud as ever. Stuff was falling and people were flopping all over the place. Just before it got outta control, Lion, our bass players yells out in his trademark southern accent…

“WE ALL GOIN’ TO JAIL TONIGHT!”

The van got dead silent. We all looked at each other and realized how loud we had truly become. Then broke out in a thunder of laughter.

We did not go to jail, and the rest of the night was interesting… to say the least. I think there were cuffs involved, though

Driving across the country with a reggae band was always an adventure. Imagine 4 smoked up rastas ( plus me ) crusing across the United States… no wives, no girlfriends…. just 10 cities to visit, play music and explore.

… Now you’re getting the picture.

Jamming with Rising Lion was especially fun, because Danny Dread was a cool and funny guy.  I still have contact with him to this day, and he should be releasing a new single very soon.

Here is a clip of Danny in action.

We were cruising through the Arizona desert and were running out of gas. If you’ve ever been in the middle of nowhere on those hot desert highways, you’ll know that you never EVER want to run out of gas.

We pulled into a gas station/restaurant that looked like something from a Stephen King movie.  It was old and creepy. Tumbleweeds bounced down the street and the air was extremely hot and oppressive.

As we jumped out of the van, I knew it was going to be a weird experience. Not only have these people perhaps never seen a black person in their lives, but there is no way in hell they ever saw 5 at once, most of whom had dreadlocks down to their ankles.

We walked into a room full of people who were all eating and talking with each other. But as soon as we entered the building I saw astonishment mixed with fear mixed with hate spread across everyone’s faces.

What was a a loud and busy room immediately grew silent…. the record scratched off the turntable.

I cant explain fully the amount of awkwardness I felt as we walked up to pay for the gas, but those few moments felt like hours. I had no idea what was going to happen, but the fear was certainly there.

We quickly paid for our gas and got the hell out of dodge. You should have seen the dust fly as we screached out of the parking lot.

Although nothing did happen … something could have.

…whew