Ssssh to !!!!!

Reggaeton: An urban form of music that  blends Jamaican musical influences of dancehall, and Trinidadian soca with those of Latin America, such as salsa, bomba, Latin hip hop, and electronica. 

I'm not positive it was Reggaeton that I heard Saturday night, as my band was trying to do a show in Branford. I do know this:
1: I literally felt like someone was hitting my stomach and head with a hammer. Hard to sing or play keyboards that way.
2: It was coming from a private birthday party literally in the same venue...on the other side of the cashier.
3: I asked the DJ to turn it down, so we could at least perform for, as it turned out, quite a few people.
4: The DJ turned it down fractionally, if at all.
5: I couldn't focus on our show. Neither could my bandmates, as far as I could tell. But being troopers, we went on. We do a really neat medley of songs from Abbey Road (Golden Slumbers, Carry That Weight, The End). If you know them, you know much of it is pretty soft. We always close with it and get a nice round of applause. It's a sort of showcase for our drummer, Rob, who does the lead vocals as well as the iconic Ringo drum solo. It's rapidly becoming our signature work. Well, we did close with it, for the dozen or so people remaining. Everyone else left early because, presumably, they couldn't hear themselves think, let alone our music.

I like to think I've got a reasonably healthy attitude about our band. That is, we work very hard to put on the best show we can. I take the music very seriously. But I don't take us as a band, nor myself in particular, nearly as seriously. We're a cover band, like hundreds of others just in CT alone. We're not looking for Grammies. We don't pretend to be the Beatles reincarnated. All we want to do is put on a good show, make people happy, get them dancing, and preferably get reasonably compensated. I happen to think, objectively, that we DO put on a good show. We're a six person band (5 men, 1 woman) and we all sing, do harmonies, and play various instruments. We're probably not session quality musicians but we know what we're doing. We like each other and it generally shows when we play out. We have a small but growing following.
But Saturday night, no one could tell how we sounded. Because no one could hear us. Which raises a number of questions:
1: Who was responsible for scheduling a deafening birthday party literally 20 feet away under the same roof? Answer: The club manager. Club managers, and/or restaurant owners, frankly, aren't known for being highly ethical. Or compassionate. Or giving a rat's ass about the quality of music. They often have trouble making the connection that if you treat musicians with respect, you get better music. And...better music = more people. More people = more consumption. More consumption = more money.
2: What do we, as a band, do about this? What do I, not being the frontman, do in particular? Answer: I do nothing other than my foray to the other party. Our frontman, John, curtails our show, correctly. He then talked to the manager and explained what happened. I'm told the owner/manager was very apologetic and even upped our pay. I suspect a drove of complaints from our audience helped. He paid John via check and as I write this, based on years of experience, am nervous whether the check will clear. The owner has some investments here so probably won't vanish into thin air.
I give John high marks for handling this the right way, especially given his, and our, mood. I wouldn't have handled it as well.
3: On a wider level, did anyone care in the least that we were being drowned out? Answer: For the birthday party, no. For the owner, also...no. Until he got an earful and realized he was losing money.

I'm not very proud of myself. I like to think of myself as tolerant and not someone prone to stereotyping. But mentally, I was fighting it. ("Why can't they speak English?" "Why are they being so rude?" "Do they have any idea, or care, that they're disrupting a show?" Even a brief, "They're all like that", even though my experience is that nothing could be further from the truth. The overwhelming majority of Hispanic people I've met over the years are exactly the opposite).
The birthday party, I'm told, was not Puerto Rican. Which is where reggaeton originated and is most popular. I was told that the party was, in fact, Ecuadoran.
I wanted so much to just let it be, accept the moment and find something humorous in all of it. I could not. Some people tried to cheer me up, something that no one should ever try to do with me. I find "cheering someone up", albeit well intended, actually disrespectful. It's something I don't do with anyone else. If I'm pissed, let me work through it. Ask me questions if you like, but don't play Annie "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" with me.
On a larger level, I find myself repeatedly, as I get older, craving silence. We seem to be addicted to volume. The louder, the better, I suppose. Loud music, loud politicians, comedians, celebrities. Odd...even in college, I wasn't that way. I remember wanting to walk out of loud clubs. While everyone was into Led Zeppelin, I was into the Moody Blues. While my friends liked Procol Harum/Robin Trower, I was into Procol Harum/Gary Brooker. I was (and still am) OK with loud music on occasion as long as it's rhythmic and not assaultive.

Which leads to 2 rules I'd enact if I was POTUS or dictator. (The two are rapidly becoming the same. But that's another blog).
1: As mentioned numerous times in earlier blogs, it's time for a national STHU (Shut the Hell Up) day. We start out with 15 minutes of silence. It's not a religious thing, although if you're the type to pray, this would be a good time to do it. But all internet servers down. All TV's off. Radios, smartphones, billboards...all off. Most of all, just be quiet. Please. Tell someone you love them if you like. Other than that, please just STHU. Maybe we can eventually build to an entire day. And then make it a worldwide thing. Can you imagine? The whole world quiet for, hell, even 30 minutes? How cool (and healing) would that be? "Imagine there's no volume." I think John Lennon would approve.
2: It's time to simplify our legal system. No more labyrinth judicial systems. Felonies, misdemeanors, etc. From now on, we just have 3 levels of being an asshole. We have minor assholes, major assholes, and hopeless assholes. A jury can decide on the level. When proclaiming sentence, they can collectively say, "You're a (adjective) asshole." And the convicted can go to asshole jail. We can keep an asshole database, so if it's a first offense, it can be noted but maybe we can let the asshole walk. Because, let's face it, we've all been assholes at some point in our lives. Numerous times, most likely. So we can be allowed a few priors before imprisonment.  
I begin with club owners. And then anyone who chooses to be obnoxious. Throw 'em in minor asshole jail. And crank up the reggaeton to maximum volume. Follow it with Celine Dion. That'll change anybody.