Day 5 - Austin Saves the Day!

12/30/04 @ Trophy's

The repair shop called at about 10 AM to let me know the van was done. Brad, the other tow truck operator, had apparently gotten up extra early to work on it so we’d be able to leave town as early as possible, because they knew we had to get to Austin the next day. We made a quick stop at the Waffle House (Affle Hose) and then got driving.

It was great to return to Trophy’s in Austin. It’s not on the famed Sixth Street, but it’s very close to downtown and they don’t charge a cover so it is slightly easier to convince people to stop by the show. We played an acoustic set there last May, which was fun, but we were looking forward to doing an electric set this time. The staff at Trophy’s – Colby, Ellie, and Matt – are great people and really made us feel at home. If I lived in Austin, I think I’d be a regular there.

Only one other band was on the bill: a “junkgrass” band called American Graveyard. Their style of music was quite a bit different from ours, but the lineup worked out surprisingly well because they had a ton of energy on stage and they really seemed to have a blast doing their thing. I think our bands just have a very similar attitude, and we struck up a good friendship right off the bat. American Graveyard’s instrumentation was unique – throughout their set we heard guitar, mandolin, banjo, violin, harmonica, and some very cool improvised percussion instruments including a suitcase bass drum and a tree-like thing that had a bell on the top and other “branches” of instruments (one of them being an empty Jack Daniels bottle). They kicked the night off at around 9:00 and kept it rocking till about 11:00.

Our set flew by pretty quickly. We were all itching to play after the previous night’s debacle with the van. The crowd appeared to be having a really good time, and they were EXTREMELY generous with the tip jar that Chris from American Graveyard passed around during our set.

After we were done playing, the guys from American Graveyard invited us to a bar down the street called Ego’s, where there was more live music. Chris somehow got us in without a cover, which was incredibly cool (thanks Chris!). The band playing was called Two Hoots and a Holler and their brand of music was like a cross between swing and polka with a little bluegrass mixed in. The place was pretty small, and it was completely packed with people. We quickly discovered the small dance floor and had an absolute hoot (no, two hoots AND a holler) dancing till bar time. I have to send out a huge thanks to Chris, Jim, Conrad, Doodle (whose wife’s name is Wendy Lou!), and [ shoot, I can’t recall the drummer’s name.. what was it, Billy Joe?!… ] of American Graveyard. I hope we get to hang out with them again sometime soon.

It was also great to see a couple of friends of ours who had relocated to Austin. Dario, who went to high school with me, and Jim, who went to college with all of us, made it down to the show and then to the party at Ego’s. Coincidentally, Jim, who is a comedian, had recently run into and met the guys from American Graveyard at one of his gigs, so they knew each other prior to our show together.

We stopped over at Jim’s for a couple of beers, and then headed back to the hotel. We walked over to the 24-hour Whataburger right across the street, but it was drive-through only – d’oh! They didn’t let us walk-thru (we even tried a pathetic synchronized jump on the car sensor) so we had to go back and drive through with the van/trailer… but, it was worth the extra hassle to be able to stuff our faces with greasy fast food at the end of the night.

Day 4 - Foiled by the Van

After checking out of the hotel, we drove to a cemetery at the north end of Canal Street. Sherri was interested in seeing one of the famous above-ground New Orleans cemeteries, so we wandered around in it and took some photos. The weather was, again, absolutely perfect and it was neat to check out the old tombstones and statues.

Then we hit the road for Houston. We made a stop at a music store in Lafayette, Louisiana, to pick up a few things we needed (speaker cable, bass strings, hi-hat clutch, etc.). We continued on the road, but shortly after we crossed the border into Texas, the power steering in the van stopped working. Mike was driving and he got the van to a gas station, where we refilled the power steering fluid and all the other fluids, and tried to troubleshoot what was going on, with the help of a guy named Mike who was hanging out at the gas station. The van seemed to be running slightly better, even though the power steering still wasn’t right. We called the club to let them know we were slightly delayed, since our stop at the gas station took a while.

Once we got back on the highway, though, we noticed the headlights getting dimmer and dimmer. The battery gage was way low too, so we pulled over at the next Rest Area which, thankfully, wasn’t far away. I called Triple-A to see if they could tow us to Houston (it was still about 100 miles away and AAA-plus covers towing to that distance). They said they probably could, but we still didn’t know what to do about getting the seven passengers there. Plus, the tow truck wouldn’t get to us for at least another 45 minutes.

It became apparent to us that there was no possible way for us to make it to Houston in time for the show at the Sidecar Pub. This was extremely disappointing, because Ben and the people at the Sidecar really worked hard to make this show happen. Plus, we played at the Sidecar Pub a couple of years ago and it’s just a really cool place that we had been looking forward to revisiting. The disappointment of missing out on a great show just added to my extreme bitterness/rage toward the van, which goes back to the first tour we took it on in May of 2003 when the engine blew out. And let’s not even get into the whole “rear end” issue.

When the tow truck arrived, the driver, Earl, took a look at the engine. He quickly determined our problem: a broken tension pulley. The belt was so loose, it wasn’t even turning. He said they’d be able to fix it relatively quickly in the morning at the local shop, in Bridge City, Texas, so they towed the van there on my Triple-A membership. Since, as we discovered, Triple-A doesn’t cover “utility” trailers, it only covers “habitable” trailers (thanks a lot, guys), we had to pay to get the trailer towed to a hotel. But, with two tow trucks, all of us at least got a ride to the hotel, so that worked out okay.

Useless but interesting fact: You have to cross a bridge to get into Bridge City.

Day 3 - New Orleans, LA

12/28/04 @ Dixie Taverne

I got up at about 11 AM, and since everybody else was still sound asleep, I decided go to scope things out around the hotel (I got to the hotel so late the previous night that I had no clue what the area was like). I went outside and it was AWESOME – sunny, I’d guess around 65-70 degrees, absolutely perfect. I lounged by the pool for a little while, and then Sherri stopped by and we decided that we should probably get moving if we wanted to “see the sights” before it was show time.

Everybody had different things they wanted to do, so we split off into groups with the plan to meet up in the French Quarter for dinner at around 6:00 PM. Mike, Sherri, and I walked over to the French Market and had breakfast, did some shopping (the wide variety of colorfully named hot sauces provided us with plenty of entertainment – we got a bottle of “Brand New Asshole” hot sauce for Ben), and then met up with Morgan and Taylor. We stopped at one of the countless frozen drink places for a bit of liquid refreshment, and struck up a conversation with the bartender, whose ex-wife was from Wisconsin. After finding out we were in a band playing in town that night, he immediately guessed correctly that we’d be at the Dixie Taverne. Right on! Oh yeah, his name was Weeble.

Then we met up with Ben and Allison for a classic New Orleans dinner at Felix’s on Bourbon Street. We ate enough jambalaya to kill a small horse and then hit some souvenir (junk) stores before going to the venue to set up for the show.

If today’s story sounds like a boring description of a tourist’s trip to New Orleans, never fear, the interesting part is about to begin.

We showed up at the club at 9:30 PM for load-in. Jen was bartending and a guy named Darin was working at the door. There were a few people sitting at the bar, including a really loud guy who was obviously very intoxicated. He kept daring people around him to punch him in the face… Unfortunately, nobody obliged (what better way to start the night than with a good ole bar fight?).

They told us we could pull up onto the sidewalk and just park there, but there was already a big white truck parked outside the front door, so we sort of double-parked and unloaded everything into the bar. Then, Ben took the van and trailer and parked it on the sidewalk a little ways up.

We were scheduled to play first, so we started setting up on stage. While we were setting up, the drunken guy fell of his bar stool not once but twice. He could’ve used one of those shirts they sell in the shops on Bourbon Street that has “If you can read this, please put me back on my bar stool” printed upside down on it.

A few minutes later, I went to use the bathroom, and while I was in there I suddenly heard somebody yell “CALL 9-1-1, THERE’S A MAJOR ACCIDENT RIGHT OUT FRONT!” I ran outside to a horrific sight: All of the cars that had been parked in front of the club were smashed, and the white truck that had previously been in front of the club was in the crash, turned sideways in the middle of Canal Street. Two (possibly three) cars were completely totaled, and one of the totaled cars had been pushed into our trailer.

MIRACULOUSLY NO ONE WAS KILLED. The drunk guy (yup, you guessed it, it was the wastoid who couldn’t stay on his bar stool) was the only person involved in this crash, all the other cars were just parked out front with no one in them. Apparently he was injured, but he survived and I am absolutely amazed that he walked out of that one.

Of course, all of the cars involved belonged to patrons of the Dixie Taverne, and the “totally totaled” car that got pancaked into a tree and then hit our trailer belonged to Jen the bartender. Obviously that put a major damper on the spirits of everyone at the club. But, they still wanted us to continue with the show so we did. It was just creepy to have a crime scene – it really looked like a war zone out there – right outside.

By the time we finished playing, the totaled cars had been towed away and our trailer was “freed” from the accident scene. The front left side of got pretty dented, and the left wheel well was completely dislocated from the trailer. It was a terribly disheartening sight, since the trailer is really REALLY nice and Ben just got it two weeks ago. Darin (who had been working the door and thereby monitoring the accident scene the entire night) was a mechanic and very kindly offered to take a look at the trailer to make sure it wasn’t structurally damaged. By an amazing stroke of luck, the trailer was still safe to tow. Darin helped us patch up some of the dented side at his shop, so it would still be weather-proof. He really went out of his way to help us… It never ceases to amaze me how people who just met us can be so generous.

The other band, Debe Queso and the Violators, did a great job of rocking the place till bar time. They had a lot of fans who were all extremely friendly and who truly seemed to LOVE to party. Even after the unfortunate events of the night, we couldn’t help but jump into the mosh pit that was going on during their set.

After the show, Ben, Allison, Sherri, and I went back to Bourbon Street for one last time. It wasn’t as hopping as we expected it to be at 2:30 AM, but maybe the Tuesday after Christmas is the “off season” or something. Regardless, we found a bar with some music and got our dance on for a while before calling it a night at about 5:30 AM.

Day 2 - Lots of Driving

We didn’t leave Nashville until about 2 PM, and spent most of the day driving. It was a beautiful day and the difference in temperature made even the eight hours in the van much nicer.

By the time we got to New Orleans, it was about 1:00 AM. We wanted to try to do some promotion for the next day’s show, so Mike and I went to the Dixie Taverne with CDs and flyers while the rest of the crew went to check in to the hotel.

Right from the start, I liked the Dixie Taverne. There’s no question it’s a rock bar. You walk in the front door, and the stage is right there, front and center – next to the bar itself (you could order a drink from on stage if you wanted to). It has a jukebox full of good music, band stickers covering the front window inside and out, a good assortment of old show posters, etc. The attitude/feel of the Dixie Taverne reminded me of the old O’Cayz in Madison.

Since it was a Monday night at 1 AM, there were only a few people left in the place when we got there (bar time that night was 2 AM). We got a warm welcome from Jennifer, who booked the show and was bartending.

After a couple of drinks, some loud tunes from the jukebox (although the jukebox skipped on Social D’s “Ring of Fire” – D’OH!), and a few shots of Bourbon (3 for $3 was the Monday night special), we had acquainted ourselves with everyone in the bar and invited them to the show. The regulars at the Dixie were a really friendly bunch of people, and they seemed excited to meet us out-of-towners and tell us about New Orleans. Several of them were also musicians in local bands so it was fun finding out what they were all up to. We weren’t sure if our efforts at promotion would actually wind up bringing anybody to the show, but we sure had a good time and felt very welcome for our first venture to New Orleans.

Day 1 of Southern Tour

Springwater Supper Club - Nashville, TN

Did you know that there is a full-scale model of the Parthenon in Nashville, TN? I was unaware of this fact, but the Springwater Supper Club, where we played last night, is just down the street from this American replica of the Parthenon. COOL!

We arrived at the Springwater at about 8:30 PM. Ben and I ran inside to scope things out and find out where we were supposed to load in. Until this point, we didn’t know who else (if anyone) was going to be doing the show. We met the bartender, Mike, who told us there would be a couple of other bands… Then we met the other bands and found out that we’d be the last of three bands to take the stage. Good plan – After 8 hours in the van, unwinding and listening to some music before unloading and taking the stage sounded like a grand idea.

The Springwater Supper Club is a neat little place. Okay… I guess some might place it in the “dive” bar category, but let’s just call it a quaint venue with the necessary amenities to hang out and have a good time. These amenities would include the beer bar (no liquor!), a pool table, a friendly group of regulars, and of course the stage and sound system. It also has a nice sized porch which I imagine is a great place to hang out in the summer -- the wall adjacent to the porch has those huge windows that open the place up to the porch in summertime. I also imagine the place is a lot more pleasant in the summer because, with the windows shut, I believe it was THE SMOKIEST bar I have ever been in.

The part of the club with the stage was completely decked out for Christmas. There were lights everywhere: dangling from the ceiling, covering every wall, all over the stage… and everything in the room was covered in tinsel! Very festive, and it was funny as the night progressed to see everyone walking around with the tinsel in their hair and stuck to their clothes.

There are a lot of great things about touring, but one particularly exciting wildcard that always comes into play is that you never know who is going to turn up at the shows in different cities. You, of course, invite everyone you know within a 3-state vicinity of the venue you’re going to be at, but a lot of times you don’t get to personally talk to anyone beforehand. The invitation might go out in the form of an email or voice message, but often you never make contact with anyone in that city, leaving you to wonder if anyone will turn up specifically to see your band. At this show, we were surprised by our friends Will, Mike, and Francis, who also came to see us when we played in Murfreesboro, TN. They also brought a gaggle of friends, making the night way more fun than expected.

The music started at about 9:30, with a Nashville band called Blue Fades. They played an interesting mellow mix of tunes. Following them was a three-piece Nashville rock band called Blacks and Blondes, who definitely knew how to rock. It was an interesting mix of music over the night, and by the time it was our turn to play we were definitely pumped up and ready for the tour kick off show.

The show itself was a lot of fun, in spite of some small technical difficulties. There were only two microphones, so Mike and Ben shared one. From what everybody said, my mic wasn’t working…. There was no monitoring system so we really had no idea what the mix in the room was like, but that’s alright. It felt so great to PLAY, and the excitement of being at a new place we haven’t played before, far away from home, just added to the energy and fun.
After the show, we cruised over to our hotel, which was right in the heart of exciting downtown Nashville (o Priceline, what would we ever do without you?). What a city – I only wish we’d had more time to explore the seemingly endless music stores and venues! As we checked into the hotel, our friend Will got some info from Tim the concierge (seriously, if you saw them talk you’d think they were old friends!). Tim was very helpful and didn’t mind the fact that every time we walked by him, someone would enthusiastically shout out “TIMMY” in the Cartman voice.

A bunch of us then decided to venture out for some food, so our official “Guide” and Nashville native, Justin, showed us the way to his favorite local Waffle House. Ah, the Waffle House! What a wonderful, wonderful haven for drunks to convene at the end of the night. And the waitress was SO nice, even while putting up with the shenanigans of our rowdy, hungry group. These shenanigans include (but are not limited to): Playing the Waffle House songs on the jukebox in loop (one song was played no less than THREE times – “special lady… waffle house lady!”), referring to the waitress by a different name each time, mingling with the other drunken patrons, etc. If you’re from Wisconsin, you’ve probably seen this scene played out at local Denny’s more than once…. ‘nuff said.

At the end of the night it was time to crash… We walked into our hotel room to discover the heat wasn’t working and it was FREEZING cold. It was a chilly night, but after the excitement of a long first day and fun first night of the tour, I slept well.

Merry Christmas!

I hope your family doesn't get too dysfunctional and that Santa brought you everything you asked for.

Wow, I'm still sick. This cold ain't shakin'. I didn't even feel well enough to drive back to Milwaukee last night for Christmas Eve at my Aunt's house. I really missed spending time with them. I just kinda shut myself in, got packed for the Southern tour and watched old Sopranos episodes from the third season On-Demand. That's probably my favorite. I just hate Ralphie sooooooooo much. I like Annabella Sciorra, though. That season's a winner.

I also finally saw Jingle All The Way and while it sucked for an Arnold movie it had some funny moments. Jim Belushi is never gonna be his brother, but he still makes me laugh. Sinbad vs. Arnold? That was pushing it.

Oh well, I feel a little better today. I'll post something here the next time we have internet access so we can let everyone know how much fun we're having carousing in the Southland. I heard it's cold down there this year, looks like I'm gonna have to cut up some Taun-Tauns and sleep in them for warmth.

I'm not really into all the gooey shit that goes along with "goodwill towards men", but I hope everyone's having a good Christmas or whatever religious or secular celebration you decide to have. It beats working!

True Holiday Diversity

Looks like you can find it in Florida. It's an excellent example of the Free Exercise Clause in action. That's an encouraging solution.

Madison is absolutely Cromwellian about public Christmas displays. White trash, religious Christians (specifically Evangelicals), and fat people are the last group of people that "enlightened" Americans feel free to relentlessly ridicule. I admit, I do it, too. Is that called 'reverse tolerance'?

Oh well, this shit's been chewed to death on talk radio alone. If it makes some people happy to put up a Jesus thing in the public park more power to them. If they want to put a big fat Menorah, a naked statue of Zeus, or an upside-down cross, I don't really care. I think they have the right to celebrate in schools and in city halls whatever the fuck they want.

It's back to the whole point of "Intellectual Terrorists" from Radio Free Earth (was that a seamless plug or what?), I thought diversity was about the celebration of differences not the homogenization of them.

This is news? Isn't there a war on?

This story makes me sad. These people love that little deer, but you know the DNR is gonna win. You can't fight the government.

But, really, who cares? It's a deer, don't drunk men all over the northern part of the state shoot these things all the time for fun? Why is killing one okay and not the other? This is the number one story on my Madison newsfeed today? To quote Lewis Black, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

This Cold Sucks

Man, what an awful time to get a cold, right when there's too much shi-ite to do for Christmas and getting ready for our Southern tour next week. I've got the sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, but no fever as far as I know.

I stayed up way too late last night too. I went to a show at The Annex and I had a good time. It was $10 all-you-can-drink, so I enjoyed myself, and there was a decent crowd for a Wednesday. The bands were Sand, which is just starting with a new lineup around here in Madison, they were acoustic rock with some keyboards (which always is a nice touch as long as it's not that pussy-ass organ sound which always makes me think of 70's UK pub rock, fucking Rod Stewart, somebody off him already, willya?) and Willis from Oshkosh. They kind of have an indie thing going on, ah a little, not so much, they flirt with it but it's mostly straight ahead.

Seems like everybody's got an indie thing going on now. I'm glad, though. Dear Jack White, please save us from nu-metal and banish it to Janesville. Thank You.

Sending out press releases and mailings to newspapers is frustrating a lot of the time. You throw a lot out there and hope one or two pick up. That's probably my least favorite part about this whole thing. It's fun when you get an article, though.

However, I think reviews are more powerful than show previews. When you read an article about a band, they're usually boring. So, when you see a new band that you haven't heard of, you're like, "Why the fuck should I care what these guys have to say? I don't even know if I like their songs yet."

Yeah, reviews are more key, because people read reviews to specifically see what's new and ummmm... hot. Even though it's lame to rely on someone else's opinion to create your own, it's kind of par for the course. We all do it. We all get excited about something or go into something merely because we read a good critique of it. It's so affecting of our enjoyment of art. I wasn't interested in seeing Alexander because all the reviews said it blows or for some reason I'm not supposed to think that The Killers are as good as those David Byrne-wannabes in Franz Ferdinand, because Rolling Stone says so (even though I find The Killers infinitely more enjoyable.) Well, fuck Rolling Stone. When's the last time they talked about Meat Loaf?

Alright, I'm just bitching at press media now, the difficulty of creating a story about your band that you can hook music writers with, and the futility of letting criticism ruin your enjoyment of something. But, that's the nature of the beast. As soon as you learn how to take the good parts of criticism (the self-satisfaction that someone gets from an "expert" agreeing with them) and not take the bad parts (guilty pleasures, going into something with your mind already made up), please let me know. I'd love to do it. I'm sure plenty of bands who have given me their CD that I haven't written a review of in Maximum Ink probably think I'm an asshole for not writing about their band too.

Plus, did I mention I'm sick? Not as sick as Wendy was yesterday (the doctor had to amputate) but sick nonetheless.

The Spirit of Christmas...

...lives on!

Mainstream Media Gangs Up On Indie Artist?

Noooooooo... who woulda thunk it?

All you armchair ethicists out there, check this story about a singer whose fan club "cheated" to get her on the radio. Yeah, they lied about a song to get on the radio, but it's no different than anything anyone at a major record label does EVERY SINGLE DAY. Make sure you read Steve Albini's classic "Some of your friends are already this fucked" article if you want a little quick insight into the world of major labels.

Yes, the artist's buddy that worked on the fan club exploited the tools at his disposal. Yes, he lied. And I know, that never, ever, never happens in the entertainment industry. Oh. No.

Did it need a big article in The Tennessean? Unsavory promotional efforts go on every day. Nashville is a major label music town (we'll be there in six days, woohoo!) maybe they're trying to make sure that someone who has fallen out of favor with the labels in Nashville doesn't get too popular. Is there a big indie (not alt)country scene? Or do the editors at The Tennessean just don't like the idea of a patriotic song on the radio?

Anyway, it's fucking lame that this story made a major metro newspaper. It feels like a hit job. 17 people in a fan club were requesting this chick's song and lied saying they had a connection to the military. Nice detective work everybody. I'm sure The Tennessean does an excellent job at exposing the way the music industry chews up and spits out thousands of naive and innocent souls every year.

I hope the reporter who wrote this story gets a face full of balls.

Parting The Red Sea

I felt like Charlton Heston on Saturday because our show at The Red Sea was tits, yo. The other two bands, Kid Knuckle (get a website, mofos!)and The Ugly Fat Kids were a lot of fun, energetic, and punk as fuck. It was just a great vibe all night long, everybody was in a good mood, it was an early show so nobody was piss-wasted or surly and I enjoyed the music. Probably the most fun weekend up in Minneapolis so far this year, I think.

Wow, I just realized how dirty the title of this post sounds.

The Red Sea is interesting too because it seems like the least likely place for a rock show. It's connected to an Ethiopian restaurant and indeed, most of its regulars are East African immigrants. So, when you walk in, you might think you're in the wrong place. Nope, it's the right place. But there's a great stage in the back room that's just made for a party. It's funny that it's suburban pasty ass white rockers on the side of the bar with the stage and East African immigrants on the side with the pool tables, but no one blinks an eye. That, my friends, is a cool setup. Kinda like The Big Horse Lounge in Chicago and how it's connected to a Mexican restaurant. The only difference is that The Red Sea is bigger, friendlier, has decent sound, and cheaper beer. Well, Mexican food versus Ethiopian food is a toss-up too. I love 'em both.

Anyway, I had a good time. Everyone today was like, "Isn't it cold up in Minneapolis?" Ummm.... yeah. We live in fucking Wisconsin. Can you feel the difference between -3 degrees versus -6?

Unusually, there weren't too many hipsters out this weekend. Maybe the cold fogged up their glasses. There was one frado in a black shirt and white tie but I'm not sure if he was a Mod or actually thought it looked good.

Fox never fails

to find new ways to exploit people. I love it. It's like the network executives decided to use all those awful shows that they talk about on The Simpsons or used to on Married... With Children and turn them into reality.

Reality shows suck ass anyway, though. Survivor was fun for a couple of years. I guess people see something in The Apprentice when they can fit a camera in the same room as The Donald's massive toupee-chowing ego.

Dana Stevens wrote a pretty good article in Slate about the problem with reality television and too much nostalgia-mining and she echoes a lot of what I've been thinking about culture. Music, TV, films- we're not just taking the ideas or character archetypes of the past and repackaging them, we're trying to recreate them. Retro can be a lot of fun, but it's also kind of sad. It's a longing for something that never was. I guess Pleasantville covers the same territory (albeit it focuses a little too much on the same tired themes of sexual repression.) And with retro music, so desperate to sound like The Who or The Cars or for Christ's sake, AC/DC, without any of the personality or the charm that made it fun in the first place. It's like how when you used to hi-speed dub tapes for your friends, the copy never sounded as good as the original, or a Xerox isn't as crisp. You ever see Multiplicity?

I'm just rambling now, about the same shit I always do. This Who's Your Daddy? show probably won't be as disgusting as it sounds, and that kind of disappoints me. The more vulgar and exploitative of a poor orphan's wish for a real family it is, the more people will realize how sick their schadenfreude really is.

Well, maybe not. Did you ever rent Faces of Death? Morbid curiousity can be healthy, I think. It's hard-wired in our brains. The process of seeing how other people die can help you figure out how not to repeat their mistakes. It's like slowing down when you drive by a car accident. I always say that I don't do it, but I do. Do I want to see what happened? Of course I do! I am not uncurious.

I'll probably watch Who's Your Daddy? too. Fuck, remember this guy? And on a side note, doesn't he remind you of Mark Belling? C'mon, maybe a little?

Area 52

Once again, the Twin Cities turns out to be an island of coolness in the frozen tundra that is the Upper Midwest.

We stopped by this musicians' collective on both Friday and Saturday nights and it's one of the sweetest places I've seen in The Cities yet. After the buck wild and fun-as-hell Thoughtcloud show at The Terminal Bar on Friday we checked out the open jam at Area 52. It's this top floor of a warehouse and it's absolutely monstrous (there was even a movie screen in there showing porn! Awesome.) made for some trouble as I did some drunken self-indulgent free-style rapping with Tony from Thoughtcloud that was completely unneccessary, but fun nonetheless. It was also great to see Nick from the always excellent Filthy Divine. Last time I saw him he was buck naked in an Eau Claire hotel. Ha. Anyway, it was a lot of fun to jam with him.

Everybody at the place was super cool and thank God it wasn't just a bunch of hippies noodling and playing bongos (which was my total fear.) It was metal, punk, and indie guys and girls. A real eclectic mix and a really interesting place. It was cool to make so many new friends. Plus, we saw an excellent band there called Toast who had an absolutely devastating bassist.

Phil from RockWatch was a great guy. His site covers the Minnesota music scene. A good resource for bands looking to tour up there, because there's a lot of Minne bands listed on the site that you can connect with.

This kid...

... is gonna have some kinda story when he or she grows up and goes to school.

Would you believe this if you saw it in a movie? I wouldn't. A woman is murdered and her baby is stolen from her body... alive? Admittedly, I'm no professional gynecologist (even though I do freelance work), but I never figured that you could kidnap a baby from the womb. That's like a sci-fi/fantasy plot device!

I directed the news at a television station while we were installing the Amber Alert system and I have to say that it's one of the best integrations of law enforcement and broadcast media that I've ever seen. We should be wondering why it's taken us 50 years of television to get it going.

Love Shack Burns Down

Oh no! The real "Love Shack" burnt down. The B-52s are great, I'm even willing to forgive them for their appearance in that awful The Flintstones movie. Kate's song with Iggy Pop, "Candy" is one of my favorite getting-out-of-prison love songs. I know we all have one of those.

Is there a real life Rock Lobster too?

Kinda disturbing article

I despise violence that's not involved in video games, film, or music- but is it just me or are these guys total pussies? I even think the guy who wrote the story is a pussy.

What made this law student motherfucker better than the poor bastards who got shipped off to 'Nam and couldn't make it to Canada? Or those National Guardsmen and women that didn't shirk their commitments and the contracts they made and are serving in the sand right now? Charles Rangel was talking about instating a draft because an all-volunteer military seems over-reliant on minorities and disadvantaged people. Look at the rich twats run away when there's a draft. And now he's a successful Canadian lawyer, good for him, I hope he can live with the blood on his hands from the kid that died in his place. It's one thing to protest and oppose the war, it's another thing to be a total douchebag.

Rokker Records Party

Wendy and I went down to the King Club last night to check out the party for Rokker Records, which is the publisher of Maximum Ink's label where he's putting out some material from some of Madison's classic metal and rock bands. We thought it'd be a good place to hand out some fliers and sample CDs for our upcoming show there on January 8th.

Ran into Darwin from the Skintones and Brad from Droids Attack! and got to chat with them for a little while. I guess Droids is playing on Monday at the Glass Nickel. There's gonna be a lot of cool shows next week (when am I going to do my frickin' Christmas shopping?) and it's always nice to see a little support from other musicians on the battlefield.

I'm glad we went. It was a great shinding. First of all, whose not gonna love free beer? Second, the place was packed to the tits and totally rocking. I finally got to see Last Crack, who I've been hearing about since I moved to Madison. They'd already broken up by the time we got here, but they reunite every once in awhile and I can see why their fans are so diehard. They're an absolutely excellent live band. Tight as shit. Buddo's got that metal scream down fucking pat. Sweet show and a lot of fun.

Wendy, our buddy Jeff, and I then hit the pizza place on State Street that used to be Sal's. It's called Pizza di Roma or some shit now. Anyway, two slices of the Feta and Spinach for me and I was in goddamned Heaven. The people in the cubes next to me are paying for it today, though. You know it's bad when you have to give yourself a courtesy flush!

All's well...

...that ends well.

I think they were hoping to bury Cheech Marin's career. Was that a gimme?

Late fees dropped?

This is some kinda story.

Those mothertruckers tried to charge me $75 because one of my "friends" forgot to return Mario Kart 64 for 18 months. $75, when you could buy the damn thing for $30 at Wal-Mart. Maybe, I'll actually be able to rent there again.

Anyway, this is good news, but let's face it, Blockbuster still sucks. Too expensive, no porn, and way too many copies of the newest Wil Smith shitfest instead of a broad selection. Are there any good movie stores on the West Side? It's Hollywood Video or Blockbuster, I'd rather use BitTorrent and watch it on my computer.

consonants

I seem to remember an Onion article displaying the title "Vowels deployed to Bosnia."
Yeah, Wausau was the bomb-diggity. Let's hope Minneapolis whoops as much ass. There are enough Elvis Costello glasses in that city for people to see straight to the party even if they're wasted.
What is it about booking clubs in Dallas and Chicago that turns so many people into assholes. It is a select few that resist the temptation. I know a certain drummer (who remains blogless :) that used to say, I might as well flush these press kits down the toilet cuz at least I'd know where they were going. Anyway, despite the verbal abuse, we are going on the road starting next weekend in Nashville and taking no prisoners in the South. I hope they like cheesefucking Lone Star guzzling yankees down there!

Wicked Wausau Party

What an absolutely sweet Saturday night at the Scott Street Pub in Wausau. I gotta give it up for that crew, they know how to do it up right and they treat us awesomely. Did I say this before? Try the fucking Portabella sandwich. I'm serious. We played with The Baddowns who are really nice guys and a cool band who had a fantastic song selection.

We had three people onstage trying to vie for the top spot in the Beer Challenge- yet none could defeat me and I walked away as champion once again! Alright, that's really not that great of a feat and I was drinking from a cup while everyone else was drinking from a bottle. But should I really be penalized for ordering more intelligently?

It was good to see some friends that we haven't seen in awhile. Including the original lead singer for Splyne Drive. I didn't know they had a Mukwonago connection. But I do now. I learned a long time ago that it's a Mukwona-centric universe, so I should have seen that coming. It is a small world, after all.

That deserved a fucking chortle.

Anyway, it was a great time. I guess some of my mother's family moved there at the turn of the century. Not this century, Stosh, I'm talking about the 20th Century. The Kryshaks? Krizak? You know how those Eastern Europeans spell shit, they'll add consonants to anything. So, I dunno what the proper spelling of the name is. But I can always feel my Polish blood burn whenever I enter the city limits and I can't wait to come back there on February 12th.

Gimme a liter of cola.

This "Restaurant Rage" story also reminds me of that scene in Falling Down.

Macropenis

Do they have a similar procedure for people suffering from macropenis?
I can't believe they killed Dime. I know so many people who have been influence by his playing, including myself. Speculation is that some crazed Pantera fan was off-ing the Damage Plan dudes because he was still pissed about the break up. Why not someone more deserving, like Gary Cherone? Just kidding, I don't think anyone needs to die because of how much they suck ballz.
Let's hope nobody has it out for us because we changed drummers or changed names. Damn. I remember calling the Alrosa Villa in Columbus for a show date last time we went out East.

Can anyone believe that it is almost Christmas time? I would like to take this opportunity to express my enjoyment of Christmas. Merry Chrismas, everyone. Doesn't it feel really good to say Merry Christmas to people? I'd be happy even if they said Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanzaa or whatever back to me, as long as people are celebrating something. It is frustrating living in a city that is so small, but often thinks of itself as bigger than it is. People make such an effort to not offend each other's beliefs that they forget how to celebrate their holidays and be cool with everyone else celebrating theirs. I am going to make a special effort this year to be particularly festive and anyone who wants to party with me is welcome to!
And hopefully the parking police in this town will make a special effort to grow up and stop being such cocksuckers. Double park in Chicago or New York? Nobody gives a fuck. They know you got something to do. Madison, they'll give you a $100 ticket and have your pants around your ankles before you can whistle that banjo part from Deliverance.

Finally...

...a shred of hope.

Ohmigod, they killed Dimebag!

You bastard!

I know I was talking about Lennon's murder and the price of fame yesterday, but Dimebag Darrel from Pantera and Damageplan wasn't John Lennon-famous by any stretch of the imagination. I just listened to Vulgar Display of Power yesterday too. Unbelievable. It also shows that gun violence isn't limited to hip-hop culture, either. I know everyone gave lip service to that idea before, but I doubt anyone really believed a punk or metal show was as dangerous as a hip-hop show. There just didn't seem to be as many incidents.

But this is the biggest (at least in the Mainstream Media's eyes) rock and roll tragedy since the Great White fire in Rhode Island. That fire affected affected how clubs all over the country deal with pyrotechnics (almost all indoor venues disallow any pyro now) and if I was a betting man, I'd put money that this will make metal detectors as ubiquitous at hard rock shows as they are at rap concerts.

Is that necessarily bad? Well, clubs have used the cost of metal detectors and extra security as an excuse to cancel hip-hop themed nights, would they do the same for rock and roll nights? Also, will this give headbangers an excuse to come to concerts packing heat because they think they "need" to protect themselves? (I know that everyone has a right and an instinct to self-defense if they're threatened, but guns and alcohol are a decidedly bad combination. ie, the Old West? Would we rather have gnus at a concert or booze? I know what I'd take.)

It's a sad day for metal. "Dimebag" (used to be "Diamond") Darrel was an awesome guitarist. His riffing will be sorely missed.

Believe the word.
I will unlock my door...
And pass the cemetery gates.

Christmas Carolers must die.

I've got "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" wafting through the cubeways of my office because we can hear the caterwauling of the carolers singing outside in the Mall.

Why is this the season of "peace on Earth" and "goodwill towards men"? Shouldn't that be all the fucking time? Do we need a special excuse not to be assholes to each other?

Then, there's Santa and his tiny, pointy-eared minions extorting good deeds from children in exchange for gifts. Does St. Nick's therapist suggest leaving Ritalin instead of coal for the bad kids?

John Lennon Anniversary

It's been 24 years since Mark David Chapman murdered John Lennon. I have a hard time believing it's been that long. I actually remember that day. Or just the actual event of hearing that he had been shot told to me by my mother.

He said that he did it to become famous. That's kinda fucked up, isn't it? Plus, there's the whole Catcher in the Rye in his pocket thing, but I really don't know what the Hell that's supposed to mean. How did Holden Caulfield influence him? Did he think Lennon was a 'flit'? Did it make mental instability acceptable? Should we ban J.D. Salinger like people wanted to ban Marilyn Manson after Columbine? Anyway, people always mention that the book was found on Chapman's person, but no one really analyzes it well. And I'm not in the mood to attempt to here.

That's neither here nor there. But the dangers of fame is part of the price celebrities pay. They always bitch and cry about the paparazzi but without tabloids, they wouldn't make nearly as much money. Does someone deserve to be a millionaire just because they're a good actor, musician, or writer? Really? They deserve to be rich and famous over the guys that are fighting and dying overseas right now? The people who are risking their lives, like firefighters or police? Artists, even more than their art, have become a commodity. Musicians and actors weren't the idols to the extent they are before the advent of mass worldwide media, now people worship them, they worship the idea of being famous more than the work itself. The risks and the loss of anonymity seem to be acceptable costs of the benefits of a life that makes millions of dollars, though. Just the fact that you never have to work again!

Think about all the people who go through the drudgery of a shitty job that they hate every single day just to support their broken homes and child support for the kids they never see and their ex-wife's new boyfriend. They've got nothing to lose. They worship at the feet of these celebrity demi-gods and dream of living their life of glamour, being well-liked, of being important. These people listen to shitty music (Jessica Simpson? Hello!) and see shitty movies (what happened to Nic Cage?) just to feel like they're a part of that life, not because it's great art.

Alright, I'm getting off the subject. Here's to you, John Lennon. You're the "smart person"'s favorite Beatle. Too bad about Yoko.

A better human being than I

Tipster turns down $40,000 reward

Well, either they're that good of a person OR they're so wracked with guilt that their Tell-Tale Heart conscience won't let them keep the money.

I prefer the latter.

Motley Crue reunites! Who cares?

Here's a link to the story:
Motley Crue Reunites

I was at their last reunion tour in 1998 and they were a little underwhelming. Vince let the audience do most of the singing and I've never seen saggier tube tops in my life. They're releasing another greatest hits package? That would be the third one and they haven't had any hits since 1991! Anyone remember Generation Swine or Hooligan's Holiday? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Everybody's gotta make money, I guess. They should all marry Playmates to try and keep themselves in the spotlight like Tommy Lee has.

I love Motley Crue, I really do, it makes a brother wanna cry.

Good weekend

Both The Minglewood on Friday and the Elbow Room on Saturday were a lot of fun.

We played with a cool band on Friday called Catfish Haven. If you're into a blend of sixties rock with indie, they're definitely one to check out. Good singer (reminded me of Joe Cocker, but Wendy and Ben said Kurt Cobain... they're totally wrong, though) and tight rhythm section. Everybody at The Minglewood is always really nice, you gotta love that place- A head shop with live music! Plus, the art on the walls is great. It's a cool performance space. I gotta give it up for the hippies on that one. It was fun to see and talk to peepz we've met before in Rockford too.

Saturday was a blast in Michigan. We played with two bands from Tejas, Slick 57 and The Von Erichs (their site isn't googling for me, but it's cool they're named after a professional wrestling family), and Smashbandits from Detroit. Those guys were ready to rip it up onstage and off. The Detroit metro area has been a really slow build for us, we're still working on building our crowd and scene out there. It's going kinda slow because we haven't played with many area bands that have a draw, but we seem to be getting a great response from the people who are AT the show, so it still seems like a town where we can do some damage. We just need to find a better way to get people out in Detroit. Yeah, that was today's "no-shit" moment, brought to you by Mike.

However, we did have an awesome time, made some new friends, and got fairly intoxicated. The bands were all really good and that made it great. When you play with good bands, notice how people tend to have a better time? So, the quality control at the Elbow Room is good. All the bands were a good fit, the performances had a shit ton of energy, everybody got a cracker with EZ-Cheez delivered to their mouths like it was Communion (Thanks boys!), and everyone went home safely.

The only thing that people had to worry about was Wendy and I drunk calling random people in the middle of the night on the fogtastic drive to Battle Creek (where surprisingly we didn't eat any cereal.) I pretended I was Brian Johnson from AC/DC for a good 45 minutes (not even singing, just talking. Did you ever see the Jim Breuer AC/DC "Hokey Pokey" skit?) and my voice was fucking shot on Sunday, ha. I'm surprised Ben didn't slit our throats.

I would have.

Trailer for new Dr. Who!

Booyah! http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/doctorwho/

We can get into the various reasons why Doctor Who is the greatest sci-fi show ever later. Right now, we can just thank the White Guardian for the fact that the new series is on the way.

Kubrick's growing on me

So, I'm at the gym, I forget my headphones in the wash, so I have to use the cross trainer without my headphones. It takes me five minutes to figure out the closed captioning, but I eventually got it working. Anyway, there's not that much on so I just turn to American Movie Classics and they were showing the Stanley Kubrick Lolita from 1962.

First of all, although I know that everyone has a hard-on for Kubrick, I've never been as excited about him as everyone else. Full Metal Jacket had some great moments, but I think R. Lee Ermey and Vincent D'Onofrio had a lot to do with that. Yeah, 2001 is good too, but I have a soft spot for sci-fi and Arthur C. Clarke. Alright, and everybody loves Dr. Strangelove but it was built up too much for me by the time I saw it, that I knew everything that was going to happen. Anyway, he always seemed a little aloof and self-important. Plus, Eyes Wide Shut turned sex with a couple as hot as Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise into the longest two and a half hours of my life. So much nudity and carnality and so little appeal to the prurient interest! That's a crime.

Anyway, I saw the 1997 version of Lolita, and I thought it was kind of your standard desperate man in love with an indifferent girl story, even though Adrian Lyne is pretty good at making a scene feel lusty. It's effective at making you contemplate the sexualization of adolescents (which seems to be getting earlier and earlier) and to understand the effect of sexual trauma on young males (which I think is downplayed too often and kind of a double standard- think about this Florida teacher, if she were a man who took advantage of a girl, like what happened in our high school with the Psychology teacher, people would call her a sicko- like Humbert Humbert in Lolita, but they're not. She's a hot woman who took advantage of a teenage boy. His friends are probably proud of him.) Anyway, the Lyne version of the story is pretty good at graphically confronting these things.

Kubrick's version, however, is really funny (most of the people in my generation just think of Peter Sellers as The Pink Panther, that's probably worse than thinking Mike Myers is only Austin Powers!) and remarkably good at making you laugh uncomfortably and squirm at the characters while resorting to few obviously sexual visuals (while still sexually charged.) It shows the absurdity of James Mason's obssession and that's what makes it great. You feel so nervous watching Mason and Sellers interact. And it hurts to watch Sue Lyon's fairly sophisticated skank treat Humbert like total dirt(Dominique Swain was a great skank too in the 97 version, but she seems a touch too sexually calculating, like a she-bitch, there's not enough victim in her. You feel more connected with Humbert than you should for the story's sake. He's an old dirty bastard, he shouldn't be totally sympathetic.) While you can say that Adrian Lyne was a little closer to the plot details of the novel, Nobokov wrote the screenplay for the 1962 version! I think the spirit was more faithful and less blatantly salacious. Plus, you see Frank Langella's schwanz. If I live to be 120, I hope never again to see the dong of the guy who played Skeletor in Masters of the Universe's wang.

The fact is, the adult male fascination with jailbait IS darkly humourous. There's a thousand jokes about protective fathers. Why are they so protective? FOR A GOOD FUCKING REASON. And the fact that children are more bombarded with sex now at an earler age than ever (and they are, trust me, I'm not a prude by any means and I also don't think there was ever some kind of 50's Utopia where people always developed appropriately. I don't think it's the content of TV or movies they're being exposed to, it's the sheer unescapable amount of advertising. We're the ones that said "anything goes", sex sells, we buy into it, children copy it before they know what it means) just makes this more prescient. Kubrick gets to the crux of this ridiculousness brilliantly. And this was 1962! Anyway, I could go on about this for days, but I'll spare you. I gotta get some rest, anyway.

Maybe the center is the new edge.

The story of my life...

An article clipped from Yahoo!: Germans think they're well-hung - but they're not

Wait, I have a lot of German in me... but I guess most German women don't! (Ba-dum-bum)

That reminds me of a long time ago when I was snooping around in one of my friend's drawers (the furniture kind that holds the other kind) and I saw that he had a package of regular condoms and a package of Trojan Magnums...

and the Magnums were still in the box while the regular ones were used. I think they were just there for show and tell. I guess everybody needs a little moral support sometimes, but I'm still gonna make fun of him for it.

More on the hunter murders...

The story made it to this week's Time magazine. Check out the article here. It talks more in depth about the differences between the white and Hmong populations in Minnesota and Wisconsin. It's an issue that should be discussed. Mostly homogenous populations don't like to talk about ethnicity. After all, when you're hardly ever exposed to a different ethnic group, what does it matter?

Like where I grew up in Mukwonago. There was one black guy that went to our high school. Race was never an issue because that one black guy had no trouble integrating into a clique, he was popular, and nobody even cared that he was black. The reason that there wasn't any racial tension wasn't the fact that Mukwonago was so fucking enlightened, but the fact that there wasn't a larger black culture at the school. There were no competing social groups. Race doesn't enter the equation, really, until there are distinct cliques that can ome into conflict. So, no one really needs to discuss race or ethnicity. La Crosse was like that a lot, even with the fairly significant Hmong population. Madison is somewhat like that, too.

Maybe the Time article will help contribute something to the conversation that we should all be having. It's not a matter of sensitivity at all, but of pragmatism. If we're too afraid to broach the subject, how can we hope to beat it?