Vinnie Caggiano in classic Venice Roasters style ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gER3Vbrz4UA

Some years ago, perhaps around 2012-ish (the good ol' days when musician could actually do their jobs), a band formed around me. That's the only way I can put it. I used to sit in front of Groundwork Coffeehouse with my acoustic guitar, just noodling around. One day, the barista working there said to me, "Hey I'm just about off my shift. Can I bring my upright bass and jam with you?" After I heartily agreed, Zack the barista came by with that big ol' upright. After that awkward moment of trying to figure out what to play, Zack noticed a banjo player with his back to us performing on the boardwalk about 30 yards away. He couldn't really hear us but we could hear him, so we played along to his music. It was somewhat in the style of a 2/4 gypsy jazz thing. This gave me an idea. I asked him if he knew, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." He did, so I suggested we play it in an upbeat gypsy jazz/western swing style. That was the beginning of a new, albeit short lived, phase in my musical career. I thought what we were doing was a hoot, so we began setting classic rock and pop tunes to this style. One day, my buddy Matt Demerritt came by and asked if he could bring along his tenor sax and jam with us. That was step two of the band forming around me. Recently, a new guy moved into Venice only steps away from where we were jamming. His name was Andy Kravitz, and it turned out he was a heavy-hitter in the music industry, being a multi-platinum record winning producer for the likes of Sting, Billy Joel, The Rolling Stones, and many, many others. His walls were literally lined with platinum records. But not only this, he was a session drummer as well. He even replaced the insanely genius drummer, Vinnie Colaiuta on a remaster of a Sting track. He walked by with a smile on his face, newly discovering the three of us jamming outdoors. He asked if he could bring a snare drum and play brushes to our music. That formed the band. Andy was, in a sense, our Ringo Starr who made the band suddenly complete. We began working up a repertoire and routinely jammed in front of Groundwork. People gathered 'round applauding and having fun with the music. It became clear that we now had a band, a few set lists, and a vibe. We realized we'd become a band for real. We got offered to play in some local joints which made us face one sobering fact: the band didn't have a name. As it was, the Groundwork window had not only the name of the place on it but emblazoned on the window it also proudly boasted "Venice Roasters." Locally roasted coffee. One day a homeless guy on his bike stopped to listen to us. In the break between songs he said, "Hey! You guys should call yourselves 'The Venice Roasters.' We all thought, how perfect is that? Since we employed that a special uptempo, gypsy ... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kt1YNDFwrq0