3rd
Weezer with Kenny G
“I’m Your Daddy”
AOL Session 2009
Rivers Cuomo has Lil Wayne guest on his record, jams live in session with Kenny G, and is selling his new album as a bonus gift with a Weezer-branded Snuggie. He exists in a continuum of irony and non-irony so hilarious and confusing that if he’s not the new Andy Warhol, he’s at least rock’s answer to Jeff Koons.
I was waiting offstage at the AOL Session while Weezer tore…? - is that what people say? ‘Tore through’? I was waiting off stage while Weezer tore through “I’m Your Daddy” and you won’t believe it, but I, Kenny G, Grammy Award-winning soprano saxophonist and creator of the best-selling instrumental album of all-time, was nervous.
I’d played my part on this song a bunch of times. That wasn’t the problem. I knew I could just stroll out when it was my turn and solo sweetly all over their modern rock song. The problem was what Weezer’s Rivers Cuomo had suggested we do at the end of the song: high-five.
I was backstage in my dressing room breaking in a new reed when I heard a knock on the door. I told my assistant Sheila to answer it. It was Rivers.
‘Hello Kenny! Oh wow. Did you bring all of these - what kind of flowers are these?’
‘They are gladioli. Beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah. There’s so many of them.’
‘I always have two hundred of them in my dressing room before any performance. It’s in my rider. Their resemblance to my soprano saxophone inspires me and my playing.’
‘Wow. Um, so Kenny, I had an idea for the end of the performance.’
‘Oh?’ I shot a secret glance towards Sheila.
‘Yeah. I thought maybe we’d high-five after the song.’
‘Oh…uh, high-five?’
‘Yeah. Nothing crazy. Just a simple “up top”.’
‘Uh, sure, yeah. That’d be, uh, great.’
I smiled at him through the mirror and he left my dressing room. Immediately after I felt Sheila’s stare. I almost told her about my high-five-less existence but thought otherwise. She’d no doubt give me one of those pity laughs and think it her duty to teach me. No Kenny G, I thought, you’re flying solo on this one.
It was time for my solo and I strolled out onto the stage. My part was perfect of course but I was even more nervous than before. I hadn’t felt this way since my first jazz band performance at Franklin High.
The end of the song quickly approached, I adding a few graceful touches of sax along the way, and I hoped that my hair wasn’t becoming frizzy - which it does when I’m very nervous.
Then the song was over.
Rivers turned to me, grinning. During my solo I had made the decision to simply mimic what he did, so I turned to him, and grinned right back.
His hand went up. It hung there in the light awaiting mine. I raised my arm slowly.
Just tap your hand against his, Kenny G, I told myself.
But what if I mess it up?, I suddenly thought, doubt filling me and then turning to dread. I had to fight it.
YOU’RE KENNY G. YOU’RE KENNY G. YOU’RE KENNY G.
I pushed my hand forward towards his. They met gently, palm against palm.
I, Kenny G, just had my first high-five.
