Says Sam Frank, “I’m assuming you skipped this softball because Weiland sent you flowers?”
(Bronson pleads with his engineer to “make it sound a little less like Stickfigure”)
The truth is, I missed the following item because upon opening today’s NY Times, I never got past Ben Ratliff’s review of Sonic Youth at the Hiro Ballroom. Which, by the way, sounded like a hot show, but who do Endless Boogie and Chain Gang have to fuck to catch a break from the Times’ Arts section?
From Jack Curry in Wednesday’s NY Times :
Bronson Arroyo popped a CD of his vocals into the stereo in the Boston Red Sox’ weight room about two months ago, turned up the volume and waited anxiously for a reaction. This was Arroyo’s anonymous audition for his teammates.
No one noticed. No one asked Arroyo to change the disc. As his covers of Pearl Jam, Goo Goo Dolls and Stone Temple Pilots songs filled the room, the Red Sox were oblivious to the fact that one of their pitchers had done a slick job of morphing into Eddie Vedder, Johnny Rzeznik and Scott Weiland.
Arroyo watched his teammates lift weights, tease each other and even bop their heads to the music – his music – over the next hour. For Arroyo, the silence was as rewarding as getting a standing ovation at Fenway Park.
“If you listen to tunes that you’ve heard your whole life and nobody says anything, it usually sounds good or sounds similar to the people who sang them,” Arroyo said. “If it sounded really bad, I’m sure they would have said: ‘What is this? Get it off.’ “
I don’t wanna burst Bronson’s bubble, but being able to mimmick the manly-moody-moanings of Vedder, Rzeznik & Weiland isn’t exactly covering a wide stylistic swath. I mean, why not throw Shannon Hoon in there as well. Whether or not Arroyo’s teammates were just being polite, I can’t say for sure, but for all of Sammy Sosa’s clubhouse sins, no one ever accused him of passing his own singing off as music.