![]() Tony Uribe, left, and friend Chris Leonard perform a live Internet concert from Uribe's home for the 3-D computer world Second Life. Uribe, who has built a virtual nightclub on Second Life, sits in front of the monitors where he can see all the action while Leonard plays off to the side.
Greg Bryan / Arizona Daily STAR
Charles E. Gillman Company Accounting Specialist Sales and Marketing Everready Glass Sales Reps Administrative & Professional Jorgensen Brooks Group Counselor Administrative & Professional Tucson Urban League CEO/President Trades/Construction RANCHO RESORT MAINTANANCE POSITION Mechanical Komatsu Equipment Co Resident Field Mechanic CalienteMusician's new gig on Second Life Tony Uribe plays live for worldwide audience at his virtual nightclub
ggay@azstarnet.com
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 03.22.2007
A 4-foot parrot slipped Tony Uribe a fiver at one of the blues guitarist's gigs last week.
The oversized bird bobbed into the club, flapped its red-blue and yellow wings in approval and dumped its tip in Uribe's open guitar case.
Had this been the Boondocks Lounge or the French Quarter, two of Uribe's regular haunts in Tucson, the fine-feathered patron would have seemed out of place.
But the musician remained unfazed, giving a hearty "Thanks for your support, parrot!" before starting up on the classic Willie Dixon tune "300 Pounds of Joy" with his partner for the evening, guitarist Chris Leonard.
It's just another night on Second Life — a computer-based universe with more than 4 million residents, where Uribe, who goes by Tone Uriza online, has set up his own blues club and streams live shows several times a week from his home on the Northwest Side of Tucson.
The game, created by the technology company Linden Lab in San Francisco, puts you in a 3-D island world where you can take the shape of a human, parrot or just about anything, and chat, sell your virtual wares or fly through the air like Peter Pan if the mood strikes.
Uribe broadcasts live from his office with the help of several professional-grade microphones and an array of networked computers reminiscent of a NASA command center.
After losing his Boondocks slot in December and leaving the French Quarter shortly thereafter, Uribe said the shows online helped him find another outlet for those creative juices.
"Over the last four years, I've been playing fewer and fewer gigs in real life," said Uribe, 52. "People haven't been coming out as much. A lot of my contemporaries are doing gigs in coffeehouses and they do shows earlier in the evening. Our fans don't come to the bars because they don't smoke anymore. After my relationship ended with the Boondocks, rather than saying, 'Poor me,' I thought about ways I could continue doing what I've always loved to do."
Not that there isn't real money to be made online.
As a citizen of Second Life, you have the power to exchange real dollars with your credit card or Paypal account for the currency used in the virtual world, known as Lindens.
Those Lindens can then be used to buy land, to purchase virtual clothing and to tip musicians like Uribe for his services rendered. When you are ready to cash out, you can exchange your Lindens back into real dollars ($1 equaled 269 Lindens as of press time).
Most of the 40-50 people who strolled in and out of Uribe's bar during his set the Tuesday before last had five or 10 Lindens to give to the musician. Uribe said he made about $6 the first half-hour he spent performing for Second Lifers. Sunday, he played two shows back-to-back and made more than $70.
"My minimum for any night of the week in the real world is $18-$20 an hour," Uribe said. "If you think about the fact that you don't have to leave your house or move around heavy equipment, it's not that bad."
Despite his enthusiasm, Uribe has had a tough time persuading his fellow Tucson musicians to join in the experience. Last week Marx Loeb, the drummer from his band, Tony and the Torpedoes, popped on for the first time and left unimpressed. He called the game nothing more than a "glorified chat room," Uribe said.
The guitarist still managed to convince Loeb to play with him this Friday.
The only musician who has joined Uribe so far is Chris Leonard, a longtime friend of the Torpedoes and the former owner of the restaurant Nonie's.
When Uribe asked Leonard to come down and jam acoustically with him online about a month ago, Leonard didn't ask questions. He has performed on guitar with Uribe every Tuesday since.
"It was pretty weird at first," said Leonard "But as long as I get to play, I'm happy. People make themselves look however they want to look on there. It's like a fantasy world."
During online sessions, Leonard, 52, sits off to the side of the monitors with a separate mic, squeezed between a desk and the door in the tiny, front-room workspace.
"I do miss the live reaction — the response from the audience," he added. "You get it online, but I can't see the screens when we play. Tony knows all the people, so it is just a blast for him."
Uribe will probably never become a rich man performing live music in a virtual world.
Even if he worked seven nights a week online, the amount of cash earned wouldn't be enough to support his wife and daughter. Uribe builds computers during the day, and his wife is a tech engineer specialist with a local U.S. military contractor. He also plans on returning to the Boondocks to reclaim his regular gig in June.
In addition, there are monthly dues required by the game to own land. They start at $9.95 and increase in cost depending on lot size. Between the land and his various purchases for the club, Uribe has already spent about $200.
The artist believes the exposure he is getting online, showing off his talents to music fans from Tokyo to Mexico City, makes the money spent worth it.
"The best part of it for me is I get to maintain my independence," Uribe said. "I've always booked myself and my band, and I've always run my own sound. My CD was totally self-produced. And now I have a completely new way to perform in today's world and make a little money at it."
Besides, he adds, "If I don't play for more than a week, I get grumpy."
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