SXSW 2010 Schedule

The following shows are what I've got going on SXSW 2010 week. The first gig listed is with Leatherbag, the poster for which is included below. The rest of the shows will be with The Freeland Barons, a group that includes myself, Tim Easton, Aaron Tasjan, and Mark Stepro. The Freeland Barons will be playing songs from Tim Easton's most recent release, "Porcupine," as well as songs from the album the Barons made together in Nashville last year. Hope to see y'all out and about. Have a good week!

Alex

Tuesday 3.16 9pm The Ghost Room

Tuesday 3.16 12:30am(ish) Beerland w/ Brent Best, Lil' Cap'n Travis, Glossary

Thursday 3.18 12noon Jovita's Twangfest Party

Thursday 3.18 6pm St. Vincent Thrift Store 1327 S. Congress

Friday 3.19 5pm Hole In The Wall

Saturday 3.20 1:30 Yard Dog Gallery

Saturday 3:20 6pm Hole In The Wall

Part Five: Nashville

Club Roar. Nashville, TN September 19-24, 2009.

“Howdy-dew.”

“What’s the coffee sitch?”

“Looking good. Looking Good.”

“Isn’t this great?”

“I wonder if it has a lost and found.”

“Swell wonderment, old chap!”

Our new home. Where we were going to hole up amidst the wasps and get far out. Totally far out. We had all but dug latrines at our battle stations the night before and with the graceful accompaniment of our engineer and master technician Jesse Newport, we began our tone quest in earnest that morning.

1:10

We discussed starting with Daily Life. Good. Starting out with the blonde Bassman w/ 2x12 and the Gifson hollowbody with the scar. In my foam fort it sounds good and plunky. With a DI I think it’ll sound good.

6:17

Drums, bass, guitars done on Daily Life. Three takes, third one keeper.

7:30

Started work on Maid Of The Mist. Got it in two takes.

9:30

Timmy tele. Adelaide Watson on 12-string.

11:30

Done with Weight Of basics. Two takes. Take two best. Kunkel and Sklar keepers. Ric.

1:30

Did Your Mother Teach You That? Take two. Silver Ricky.

What Do You Live For? Quattro Formaggi. Rick Bassman, damn glad to meet you. Double tracked by 6:20. Din Din.

8-9

Until It Kills You. The fourth and the final was the keeper. No doubt. Rick Wakeman, bomber pilot.

9:36

Just Like Any Problem. RW, BP. Take whatever. 12:00.

1:30

Beat The Band. Two takes, second be the keeper. Bombs away.

3:30

drum, bass, vox, git fixers.

4:30

Dirty Windshield. Two takes, keep the second. Same.

8:46

She Takes Her Time. Mary Kay Bomber. Got drum + bass in four takes, last one keeper. 10:11.

2-5

Open Letter. Silver Ricky, Master of the Maestro Fuzz. Nobody plays piano in Athens, GA. Scarface and Vitamin jar. Five Takes. Festival Song. Three takes, #3 best. The Stripes. The Perks!

Part 4: Rim of the Chasm

(Note: Unfortunately it has been months since I've worked on this tour spiel. I hope I remember some details. I have some stuff written down from the tour, but not much.)

We got to Galion around 11pm and after dropping Mark and Aaron at the Stepro's, Tim and I checked into the Holiday Inn Express in Bucyrus. Despite the knowledge that looking for an alternative to Boone's Farming under the Bucyrus water tower with the town's three homeless guys at 11:30pm is a lost cause, the Horseshoe Bar provided a different yet equally depressing scene. Instead of music playing, the Blue Collar Comedy Show was blasting from the TV that was being ignored by the bartender and his four patrons. The patrons, 1 woman and 3 men, were engaged in an insult barrage that involved the guys ripping on the gal for being a whore. Awful. She claimed to have known the guys for 18 years told and us that "it's alright." If this in fact were true, that she hasn't escaped their abuse is a sign that maybe she now needs them as much as they need her. Sad. Tim had an Easton, I had a Michelob and a shot of Beam and we left after twenty minutes. Back to wifi and cable TV.

This was the portion of the trip where Tim, Aaron and I would be without cell phone service. For whatever reason, there is no AT&T service in Bucyrus. This was really annoying but in the grand scheme of things was fine, really. We had work to do and the more we removed ourselves from society, the better. We agreed to meet at Baker's Pizza at 2pm Monday to start

in earnest. It was very Let It Be/Twickenham in its cold, cinderblocky feel. That first day we got off to a slow start on account of some band having ripped off most of the club's PA gear when they played there a month before. Once they went out and bought new mics, mic stands, cables and speakers, everything worked great. We worked until 11pm and had gotten a substantial amount done. M & A went back to Galion and Tim and I settled for more cable and internet in the room. After our experience at the Horseshoe the night before, neither of us wanted to "go out."

The next day we drove to Galion to pick up the boys, got back to Baker's around 2pm and immediately started rehearsing. There was some great pre-production being done and we all seemed to feel good about the songs and their arrangements. So over the course of the two

days, we arranged and rehearsed all of the to-be-recorded songs and as a trial run for the new material we included them all in the set at Baker's that Tuesday night. In fact, we played two full sets of music at that Baker's gig. Porcupine and the new material makes 20 songs and then all the other stuff we do made probably 30 band tracks plus some Easton solo. There was a pretty good crowd assembled for a Tuesday night. Some strange man from Easton's

past bugged the shit out of everyone at the show and ended up annoying Tim so badly Tim fled the nuisance before we had even broken down our gear. Thinking Tim had left the venue for good, the freak ended up waiting for us in our hotel parking lot to "hang out" after the show. Absolutely no bueno. Aside from his crazy ass, it was a good night.

I must say that the folks at Baker's were very hospitable, generous and wonderful. They provided an invaluable service to our band, giving us the means to be as productive as we could be during the week leading up to our studio sessions. It was exactly what we needed, except for maybe portying with hookers and cocaine in a swank Chicago penthouse for five days, but whatever. These rehearsals allowed us to go into the studio in Nashville and crank shit out! Breck, Petra and everybody else's generosity will be indelibly stamped on the project. Our music is a transmission from the depths of the Buckeye.

The next day was spent casually working our way out of that Mid-Ohio quagmire. We were hauling ass southbound on some state highway until a detour caused us to have to backtrack and take an alternate route to Columbus. While there was quaintness in each small town we passed through, I was about done with quaint. I wanted to be able to use my expensive phone-puter and I wanted a decent meal. We were to play the Rhumba Room that night and we hoped it would be a doozy.

Easton rocked an interview on the Rhumba's back patio after loading into the club. He played a song whose title I can't remember but it's somewhere on film out there. There was a police car siren going off in the area during the end of the performance that was in tune with the song...pretty neat. Matt Hoover and ALT opened the show with solo performances of their songs. There was a crowd in the joint by the time the FB went on and that certainly inspired us to play a great show. It sounded great on stage and the concergoers were into the jams, especially the new ones. I got a little hammy-time and we crashed at Haley's late in the morning after reviewing the evening's events, etc... Much thanks to Haley, Christian, Bob, Angela, Dave and all the party people who came out to see the band. I told you I can play!

After some Yeah Me Too we hit the road for Louisville. This was a big show for me not only because I have always wanted to go to Louisviulle, but I was playing a show with my guitar hero Peter Buck! I met him backstage and he was really nice, as is everyone in Minus 5. We all discussed the new Beatles remasters and upon hearing Buck's opinion of them, I realized just how old the guy is. He was talking about having purchased some reissue series in the early seventies and comparing them to how the original pressing sounded. As a tremendous Beatles fan, this was beyond even me. There was also discussion of the pros and cons of bands playing yet-to-be-released material at shows and whether or not it is a screw to the audience. This was what we'd be doing with Easton's material that week and I likened it to REM having played their new album at Stubb's during SXSW a couple of years ago. Pete appreciated that.

The Louisville show was a little strange because the show took place in a church

basement/cafeteria and the greenroom was the former rectory. It all went fine I think. No, wait. The opening guy played too long and compromised our set length. Lame. When it was

all over, we tried to find some nightlife. Bardstown Road in Louisville seemed great but we had to wade through one crappy bar choice before we were able to find a good one. Cheap beer and good grub. It was the night Megadeth was on Jimmy Fallon. The metalhead bartender turned off the stereo so we could all listen to their performance, which was good. It was cool to see a metal band on network TV. Easton hustled pool and won a bunch of money off of an ex-bowhead and the frat boy meal ticket she carried around. After the bar, Easton bought us 40s with his pool shark earnings and we drank them in the parking lot of the junior high school where all the dudes from My Morning Jacket met in eighth grade. This left more than enough dough for Easton to put us up for two nights in some swank digs near the airport in Florence, KY. I don't remember the drive back to the hotel from Louisville because I was passed out on the back bench. Apparently, Mark drove us like a badass through a torrential downpour back to our KY palace. Hopefully during my next visit to Louisville I'll have enough time to visit the Will Oldham Birthplace and the quarry where Oldham shot the cover of Spiderland.

The next show was a Friday night in the upstairs lounge room of the Southgate House in Newport, KY. This meant that we had the whole next day to relax at the Hilton. I walked over to Cracker Barrel for a delicious lunch where I wrote some of this here tour spiel. Tim found me there and together we searched drove the streets in search of a coffeeshop and a store where Tim could buy an eyeglass repair kit. After this thoroughly exciting adventure, we went back to palace to chill for the whole afternoon!

During our stop through Columbus, Sam Brown had given us the entire Beatles Mono box set! Thanks, dude! Our suite had an entertainment interface port, so I hooked my computer up to it and we listened to these crisp remasters through the nice speakers on the room's huge flat screen television. We were newly inspired by tracks we had all but forgotten about. Specifically, "Anna" off of Please Please Me. So good. We also spent some time charting out "Nobody Plays Piano In Athens, GA" in preparation for our date in the studio. It is a cool piano based song that Easton says he wrote and recorded on the spot. The demo is good but, oh, what we did to it in the studio! More on that later...

Upon Easton's demand, we ignored the liephone and free-formed it over to Southgate House from the interstate, getting there just fine. Once you stray from the directions, who knows which gasket will blow? Actually, there's a good chance it'll be mine, but I'm working on that. Load-in up a bunch a stairs, soundcheck, dinner across the street near the aquarium, opening set by the Billy Catfish Orchestra (dude with a guitar and a bubble machine). We had a great set and the people that came out were so nice, attentive, and supportive!

We were playing most of the new songs and they all went over really well. I was having a sort of bass drop-out issue which kept my mind half out of the game but I suppose that's how it goes. Back to our KY Palace. The next day was our double header, time-zone changing, move into the studio day. Oh Billy, Billy, Billy. This is a biggie.

Not only did we have to be in Lexington for our performance at an Oktoberfest celebration under a tent at 2 or 3 pm, but we had to get to a radio interview by noon. One of us lost his phone before we even left the hotel so we spent an extra thirty minutes tearing the van apart finding only that we had left Tim's merch at the Southgate House the night before. Sweet. As we bail on the phone and merch and jump on the interstate, the kettle started pressurizing as we began to see steam coming out of a couple Barons's ears. Then it happened. Twenty minutes down the road traffic comes to a standstill. Total standstill with nary an exit in sight. Trapped, late, hungry, tired, having to run off into the woods on the side of the interstate to pee and finding the van locked and your bandmates and the people in the surrounding cars howling with laughter when you come back...

it all came down right there. Sometimes in life and on the road, the moment comes where all of your problems are intensified making it seem like it's all gonna fall apart. Well, I reckon sometimes it does fall apart. Thankfully for the Barons and the rest of the planet, the world didn't end and we made it to Lexington. Yeah, we had to call the radio station and cancel our appearance. Yeah, the world probably did end for the poor soul who was driving that double tractor/trailer that crashed and spread its mangled fusilage all over southbound I-75. Yeah, our bandmate found his phone in his man-purse while we were sitting there idling on the highway. Yeah, we made it to our tented gig in a church parking lot. I tell you what though, Mountain Dew and Bratwurst have never tasted so good together as they did that day. So as to burn up the road towards Nashville, we broke down our gear and loaded the van as Tim finished up the set with some acoustic numbers. Got paid and splitsville.

I drove us to Nashville, listening to the Jicks and enjoying the beautiful state of Kentucky in a lovely afternoon sunshine. Our load-in at the Cannery was early-ish so there was no time to spare and thankfully we didn't run into much traffic. Though at one point when the other guys were asleep, we did come to a dead stop on the Blue Grass Parkway. I was in quiet disbelief that this could happen to us twice in one day but not ten minutes later, we were past the wreckage that had occurred on the other side of the highway. Rubberneck traffic was all.

We made it to Nashville right on time and loaded straight into the club, with some leftover heated tempers from the trying day. Our load-in/soundcheck was compromised by Buddy Miller who was using the stage to rehearse his band full of Nashville session fags. Acting a total stage hog, Miller stopped his crap with enough time before doors to let us set up our gear and realize how uncomfortable the scene was. I used the rented bass rig...some Trace Elliot bullshit that had PGPA written all over it. I felt like a wet cat up there. We soon found out that the monitor engineer was a complete idiot who on what must have been his first day at work, was given control of one of the most powerful sound systems in town. Bad bad bad. If you haven't been to the Cannery, it's a huge building. Really cavernous. And this worried us a little. It only accentuated the fact that we were playing so early that when doors opened, the only thing in the room other than crew members wearing fingerless gloves and Ziljian sweatpants were the restless ghosts of food packing employees from the late 1800's.

Thankfully, by the time we went onstage, a crowd had assembled and the show seemed to go off without a hitch. Maybe there were hitches, I don't remember. I just know that it was not a cut-loose last show of the tour. Before the last band had even finished playing, we were loaded into the studio over in Berryhill where we were going to record one of the best albums I have ever heard. Tim, Fredley (who happened to be in town), and I went by the Basement to see a show but it was packed, the cover was steep, and it had been a long day so Jim headed off to his hotel and Tim and I went back to Club Roar. We found Aaron and Mark absorbing the studio/warehouse vibrations (playing tunes on piano and guitar). For the next day, our first day of tracking, we had planned a twelve hour day. Jump right in. We were ready.

Part 3: Back East

Because of all the window business, we were totally going to miss our 2pm soundcheck at the Mercury. Really? 2pm soundcheck? Dumb. NYC can be dumb. We were gonna go by Dirty Bird ToGo on the way to the Merc but by the time we got to town we didn't even have time for that. We loaded in about an hour and a half before our set. The place was packed for AA Bondy (whoever that is) who had the slot right before The Freeland Barons. Though the room cleared out a bit while he and his backing band took way too long to break down their gear (not cool, douchebags), the Barons were back together and we delivered. Thanks to John and Amber for coming out. See you both soon!

Later that night in Park Slope, Tim and I were up until 3:30 getting our windowless van a spot at a nearby garage. I sat there and watched as it took the attendant nearly thirty minutes rearrange the cars to accommodate our huge van. The guy was a master and somehow made it all work. Fortunately, we had JP's sensory deprivation chamber to sleep in and we got a great sleep. However, Tim did have to get up and take the van to the shop but they had the thing finished by 1pm! Not only did it cost less than half of the other quotes but they had it done in no time! So after lunch, JP, Tim and I took the train over to Red Hook to get the van from the rascist mofo who owned the shop. On the way back to JP's we stopped by a music store that was next to some real-life mafia hangout. You know, the kind where the fat Paulies sit in chairs out front and talk about stupid/dangerous/illegal shit all day. Fascinated with the goombah life and aching to catch a glimpse, Tim stood outside as if he was admiring the architecture or waiting for a ride to try and hear their conversations. He caught one bit about how it's "better to do a down man than an even man." We each had our own opinion of what that meant.

It started to rain as we were packing the van before heading to Union Hall. Great, right? I must say the club was pretty swanky. The ground floor of the bar has a pseudo-library feel to it...what actually to me seems like a gentleman's club in Britain in the twenties or thirties. Hard-bound books on dark-stained shelves surrounding plush lounge furniture and an indoor Bocci court. Posh. While this is all fine and good, I was most impressed with the availability of Modelo Especial in a can for $3. The first band had finished their set and before we realized it, our set time was up. However, there was some discrepancy between our tour book, when the soundguy said we were supposed to start, and when we actually were up to go on. Since there were only a few people there, we went with the majority opinion and pushed the set back twenty minutes. This sent everyone into a tizzy (rightly so except for the sound guy, whose original set times we were obeying) and it seemed to piss off the Death Vessel, the show's headliner. Although the sound on stage sucked for me, I powered through and we did a good job. Aaron's amp was pointed right at me, blowing my head off, and I was using the backline amp was on stage and was being used for stand-up bass. For those of you who don't know, one must treat an amplifier differently for a stand-up bass than one would for an electric bass. Hell, there are a huge spectrum of variables for people that only play electric bass. Anyway, it was good. We were loud and probably played too long but we sounded good. Bartow and I got outta there pretty soon after we played because we wanted to meet up with Nurkin who was playing with the Birds Of Avalon at the Cake Shop that night.

Because of the rain, we went back to Bartow's hood and waited on Scott with some Lone Star beer (!) at SuperFine. We shot pool for awhile and wanted to hang there until closing but they closed the place down early on account of it being slow. Bartow and I got some beer and waited for Scott back at his house. He showed up and we stayed up to 5 or 6 drinking beer and scotch and broin' down. It's great to hang out with your old pals even if for less than ten hours. We ate at the Bridge Restaurant for breakfast and parted ways as the F train took them to Manhattan and took me to Park Slope. Back at JP's I tried to soothe my vicious headache with a barefoot and short-panted consumption of coffee and water. In a matter of fortunate timing, just before Mark and JP headed off in the van to some market in Red Hook, I looked at our pile of gear stashed behind JP's couch and noticed that my bass wasn't there. So I ask Mark the whereabouts of my bass. He doesn't know. I go out to the van and it's not in the back. "Where's my fucking bass!!??"

Realizing the guys left it at the club the night before, the three of us got in the van and went to Union Hall. Needless to say, I was furious that they had neglected to get my instrument. I understand not recognizing the case because we don't really know each others' gear. That being said, anyone who's had enough road experience in a band knows that when you pack the van at the end of the night, you make sure everything's there. Idiot check inside and back of the van checklist. When I knocked on the door at Union Hall that morning, I was greeted by a non-english speaking cleaning crew which only heightened my anxiety. The explanation of my situation fell on deaf ears but they finally wised up and fetched one of the club's gringo employees who led me downstairs to the venue. Praise be to the heavens, my lonely bass was leaning there against the wall just where I left it. I assumed that my Ric was in good hands when I left early with Bartow the night before but I guess I was wrong. Trust is a difficult thing to come by and on the road it's even more precious. It's not an "each man for himself" situation. While each new city and venue presents a new give-and-take scenario for band members' duties/roles, a general blanket of responsibility stays over the band: Cover your brother's ass. Bass was there. Total freak-out narrowly avoided.

I spent the rest of the day blogging or some crap. We were playing World Cafe in Philly that night so we weren't in a big hurry. It was raining that night (lame) just like it was the last time we went down to Philly from NYC. We were the second band of the evening...two show evening. Some blues dude from Austin played the early show and we were scheduled to go on around 9:30 0r 10, I don't remember. There were a handful of fans there and we played a pretty solid set. They had some good quality half-priced grub which was nice. I had managed to get through NYC without spending a ton of money and my luck was continuing. We drove over to Wilmington, DE to stay for free at Aaron's folks' house. It was the longest I'd ever been in Delaware, every other "visit" having been for ten minutes on an interstate drive-by. The evening rain produced a damp morning that made the trees and grass all seem lush and inviting. Too bad, because I got behind the wheel and hauled our asses up to New London, CT for the I Am Festival.

Tim didn't want to cross the Bronx and he was right for thinking so. The traffic sucked and held us back at least 45 minutes. By the time I was starving and had to urinate (read: done driving), we were in beautiful Connecticut, about an hour away from New London. That was a three to four hour drive that shouldn't have been more than three. Oh well. That's how it goes on I-95. When we got to the harbor about an hour before our set, we rolled our gear out to the end of the pier where our stage was. Pretty cool. Some funk-rock band was playing when we got there and as painful as it was, they were soon to stop. The scenery was awesome and the weather was perfect, all overcast and mild. We had a short set but it was good and the PA was loud. Free High Life backstage. The Drums and Free Energy played after us and both sucked. Both "bands" were pathetic and in my opinion, a waste of time. As usual, the kids love that crap and continue to surprise me with the willingness and ease with which the wool is pulled over their eyes.

It was up in the air as to whether or not we were going to stay in New London and party down with the locals or start the drive for Ohio. After a good time hanging out with some townies and a rad set by Deerhoof, we hit the road for Bucyrus. Thankfully I had

already driven that day because I was more in favor of partying and not in favor of getting behind the wheel. Our destination was the Delaware Water Gap, a picturesque stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. We got rooms and crashed hard at some place that served its purpose. We stopped for lunch in the nearby town of Stroudsburg, PA (photo left) where at a lovely restaurant called Mollie's, I had the best corned beef hash I've ever had. Truism. After some lolly-gagging around town it was back on I-80 for the long boring drive back to boring central Ohio. Back to the land of no AT&T coverage. Bucyrus, "Bratwurst Capital of America," Ohio.

Part 2: Sucks, Drags, and Smash and Grab

Our motel in Niagara Falls wasn't close to the falls which was a slight bummer for the guys. I, on the other hand, didn't care much having been there two or three times already. Both sides, at that. Our two rooms were next to each other in an otherwise vacant motor court. For our motel rehearsal of new material, we set up a stripped down version of our gear in the older brothers' room. "Maid of the Mist," "Dirty Windshield," "Until It Kills You," and "What Do You Live For?" were a few of the numbers. Mark took copious notes on structure and dynamics that would no doubt come in handy down the line. We had a lovely Italian dinner at Michael's on Pine Avenue. Any time you're in the Niagara Falls area, I recommend eating anything with red sauce at Michael's. Alpha Dog was on the tube later on. Scary film about idiot kids in California. Man, that place seems f'ed up, I'm glad I didn't follow the desire I had to move there back in 1994. Who knows, though? Might have been fun.

We left ALT at the motel (because he didn't have his passport) and headed for the border as a three-piece. Our crossing was painless and we made it to The Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto by 5:30. After a slight miscommunication with Brian the Front of House Knob Twister, we sound-checked and all was smoothed out. The first two acts on the bill were ok, the second of the two being the only other band on the bill I liked. Aside form "Daily Life," our set was mainly Porcupine, much like the ones we played at SXSW. At the end of the set, we decided to load straight into the van from the stage. Only problem was that some crackhead motherfucker broke into our van by smashing the huge window next to the first bench.

Thankfully, the club owner caught the asshole in the act which prevented him from totally cleaning us out. As it stood, the theft of his satchel with passport, phone, ipod, the previous night's charts, and other personal belongings left Mark the primary victim. The alleys and streets of the neighborhood behind the bar were combed with hopes that the thief gave the bag a quick rifling through and ditched it in the bushes. Our search was unfruitful and after patching the window with cardboard, loading the gear, using all of our drink tickets and hanging out with the friends and family who had come to see us (great to see you Tyler and Megan!), we headed back to the border. With a U.S. driver's license in his wallet and a tattoo of the Ohio state burgee on his forearm, we had confidence that the patrols would let Mark back in. Correct in our beliefs, we soon had the merciful guards behind us and were back with our estranged bandmate at the Roadway Inn. A damn sucky experience that ruined a great show. The gear was loaded into the rooms and with that Christmas Eve anxiousness, it took awhile for the kids to fall asleep once they went to bed.

The next morning (four hours later), Tim Got up at 8am and started calling auto glass replacement services. In Niagara Falls, Buffalo, and Albany, we couldn't find glass and labor for less than $550. Ouch. Tim called JP down in Brooklyn who started the search for glass while we were hightailin' it to the Mercury. The long drive across the state of New York wasn't nearly as bad with a cardboard window as I thought. And I am always impressed with how beautiful a state it is.

Part 1: All The Pretty Girls Turn 40

Sitting inside WalMart is not awesome. However, knowing that the van has had an oil change is awesome. This stop also allowed us to get supplies like CD-Rs and legal pads. Once we gas up, we're heading off to Niagara Falls, NY for a two night stint at a lovely motel where we're gonna set up camp and work on arrangements for new songs. But let me back up...

Saturday night was quite interesting. My plane landed in Columbus @ 5:30 and I promptly took a cab to the house where Tim was going to play a private gig. The hostess and party throwers were very nice and hospitable, considering I didn't know them from Adam. They had built a stage in the backyard and set out hay bales for for theater style seating. A great crowd assembled for Mona's 40th and for them, Tim played two hefty sets. Actually, the first one was 30-40 minutes long but the 2nd was behemoth. Cuz was pulling out all sorts of tunes, specifically J.P. Olsen numbers from way back. This only encouraged him further that we should record "Crazy" in a couple of weeks. The revelers wanted me to play with Tim but by the end of the first set, I was in no shape to do that. I enjoyed myself thanks to the lovely Columbus evening provided me by Mother Nature and the extraordinary hostess Haley. They had an air mattress for me when I crashed at 3+am.

We had an early van call and ended up leaving Columbus around 12:30pm. We had to pick up the Crate combo amp Parker so generously loaned to me/us. We also had to get our tour vessel from Sam. Our fart box is the Sun's old van, a grey E-350 not unlike the 'peen van.

We barely managed to iphone it to Galion to pick up the rest of the band, Aaron Lee Tasjan and Mark Stepro. We were on a tight schedule but made it to Nelsen Ledges State Park despite the absurd AT&T blackout in Mid-Ohio. Tim claimed he could get a signal in the Middle Of Nowhere, Alaska which makes one wonder why it's impossible to get a signal north of Columbus. Midwest dark ages with a side of sauerkraut.

The benefit we played was for National Autism Awareness. That's a great cause, I think, because of the complex issues austistic people and their loved ones/care givers face everyday. What I don't support is the jams the band before us was dishing out. Jam bands. Blargh. The stage, setting and PA were all very nice and allowed us to have a great first gig as The Freeland Barons. We rocked out the majority of Porcupine and got sonic on a couple of songs. The Daily Life sounded good on its maiden voyage. Get What I Got worked ok for being so complicated. Joy was fun.

Dr. Ralph Stanley played after us and it was quite nice. He just stood there and sang some songs while his band of Christians did all the work. Ralph sang "Oh Death" acapella which was touching until he forgot the words. Oh well, the guy is 82 and deserves as much slack as he wants. After waiting and inordinate amount of time waiting for Donna the Buffalo to play, we got bored and took off down the road towards Buffalo. The decision was made to find rooms in Erie, PA so we headed downtown to see where the action was. Turns out there wasn't much action in plain sight so we headed into The Docksider Bar for a brief respite. Bad idea, for it was Karaoke Sunday the The Docksider and the singing was atrocious. So we had a couple First Night of Tour beverages and found a room at the Tallyho-Tel on the interstate. No luck in finding The Wonders' Memorial Practice Space. Maybe next time. The next morning, it was off to Niagara Falls, NY.

Music Month

Yesterday I worked my last bartending shift for nearly a month and happy about that I truly am. Not because my job sucks but because I am going on tour with Tim Easton again. Also at the end of the tour, we are recording in Nashville for five days. Yes hell! I'll be playing my first gig out of the country (Canada) and will play my first gigs in Brooklyn and Louisville. We'll be playing on World Cafe which will hopefully be more lively than Mountain Stage. One of our shows is with Ralph Stanley and another is with the Minus Five (Pete Buck!). Our gig in Nashville on the 19th is for the Americana Music Association conference which should be fun. I already know that a couple great friends of mine will also be in town that week. Recording and partying will be the M.O. It'll be like making Van Halen II or Rumours or something. Partytimes!

We will be playing in Georgia on the 25th, driving my ass back to Nashville to fly home on the 26th. That night I will practice with Grand Champeen in preparation for our gig the following evening with Birds of Avalon and three days later with Prescott Curlywolf. Then that Friday, a 3/4 Freeland Barons will play at the Scoot Inn. The Freeland Barons is the name of the outfit that is about to tour with Easton, including Easton. So between September 1(today) and October 2 (Scoot Inn), I am playing music and traveling. Jealous much?

Right now, I am at Pocketchange Studios with Jim, working on the mix to "Nine Years." After listening to last week's mix of the song, we decided the drums and bv's needed a little attention. Last week saw the 99% completion of "On Your Own" which by the way, sounds incredible. I think we are both psyched about OYO turned out. So much so, that it will be hard to have to wait at least a couple of months before we can resume mixing in earnest. I think today we're gonna try to get to a couple other tracks done so we have a few to solicit in the interim period of no-mixing.

My gig at Flipnotics last week went well. I played twenty songs and feel good about all of them except "Cheap Therapy" because I forgot its words. I thought my cover of "Gardenia" was good and the impromptu version of "Angels' Share" worked out. I'd like to thank all of the folks who came out to Flip's on that rainy night. I think I'd like to do it again sometime soon.

The last leg's last stand

(Part thirteen of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning.)

We made it to Park Avenue CDs in plenty of time for our in-store performance. Turns out, there was another act on the bill and we had their whole set to decompress before taking the stage. There was a great turnout for the in-store... at least triple the size of the Auburn show which put things into some kind of demented perspective. I purchased the CD/DVD of Crack The Skye because I needed to learn lyrics and watch the "making of" footage. At this point, I was dorkin' out on the new Mastodon, big time. The folks at Park Ave. were very nice and gracious. They had snacks and beer for us when we arrived and they later sent us on our way with a ton of beer and Vitamin Water! Tim played acoustic, I played direct through the P.A., and Sam played floor tom and snare. It worked out really well, I think. We went straight to Will's Pub to load in.

Here's and example of why the iphone lies: We searched the internet for Will's pub. We hit the "Get Directions" button that plugs the coordinates straight into your iphone map app. We typed in "current location" and it told us where to go. What the computer age didn't know was that Will's Pub burned down last year and that there is a new Will's pub in a new location. The address the internet/liephone gave us was a brand new medial facility built atop the ruins of the old bar. Luckily, the new Will's was on the same street in Winter Haven and we made without too much cussing.

The show in Orlando turned out to be one of the best of the tour. Matthew Butcher opened the show and delivered a great performance. A couple other bands played and then we had a great set. I met Kevn Kinney after the show and we had a nice conversation about southeastern rock and roll in the 80's and 90's. He has played my hometown (Charlotte) many times over the years which led to a discussion about the city's big clubs of yesteryear, The Pterodactyl, 4808, and The Milestone.

There was a huge crowd out for this show, despite there being several festivals going on in Orlando that weekend. Our dinner at some family oriented fishmonger was good. I had a ton of shrimp and gallons of sweet tea. Sam and I stayed at some motel. The next day, we left Orlando early to try and do some scenery lameness in St. Pete's. Tim and Sam wanted to visit the Dali Mueseum so we liephoned its location. Once inside and faced with a steep entry fee, I dug deep and asked myself if I cared enough about Dali to pay a lot of money to see his art. Myself told me that I didn't so I made a couple of phone calls and sightsaw instead. Visual (2D) art is a tricky one for me in that I'm not interested in the majority of media, genres, and styles. I love photography and I find many styles of painting appealing, but I feel like I've seen enough of Dali's work on refrigerators and dormroom walls to satisfy the need to see a visual representation of Pink Floyd's "Meddle." That's a bit of a generalization, isn't it? That's right, it is.

We then drove to Clearwater in search of the beautiful white beaches full of sanddollars, palm trees and bikini-clad women tanning themselves beside coolers full of cold beer. Wrong. We first got to Indian Rocks Beach which reminded me of some of the more residential beaches I have visited in my life and therefore, a nice calm place to chill on the beach. Instead of stopping there, we drove north to Clearwater proper to a public beach full of people I'd rather not see in bathing suits. After about 45 minutes, we split in order to find a snack and a beer. We found both at a bar nearby and we consumed $2 Pacifico, oysters and shrimp while a cover band played Eagles songs on the patio of the bar next door. Ahhh, beach life. Cold beer, tourists, flip flops, good food, cover bands... wait, that kinda sound like Austin.

The show in Tampa was at a bar called New World Brewery. It didn't seem to be a normal venue because as we arrived, the soundman was assembling the P.A. on the covered brick patio in the courtyard. That's fine, whatever. "Last show of the tour, let's have fun." I drank plenty of free beer and was nice and toasty when we went on. There were some great moments in the set because Sam and I were both throwing caution to the wind and cutting loose. It was a good way to end and we went back to Orlando after the show, looking forward to the next day. Our plan was to go to the beach and decompress and then go into the studio Tuesday relaxed and record many of the newer jams we had played on the tour. However, this was not to be so. The heavens decided that this was the week that Florida would drown in torrential rains. Bummer. Good thing our hotel was attached to a mall...

Bojangles is the best fast food ever

The show in Raleigh was good.  People came out despite the show starting at 8:30.  There was an A/C vent pounding my head on stage which annoyed me because I was sick and non-psyched.  We played a rather long set, it was fun, etc...

The drive to Atlanta was long the next day.  That day we ate at Bojangles, which I plan on doing at least once more on this tour.  Cajun filet biscuit, seasoned fries, sweet tea.  Unstoppable.

The show in Atlanta was bleak.  The Earl is a fine club but it was a huge room and not many folks were there.  Some of Tim's family came out, especially his special lady.  For four days of the tour, we were to have a tour manager with us.  I had one of the best nights of sleep in Atlanta.  Sam and I shared a room at the Highland Inn near five points.  WE ate at the Vortex the next day which reminded me that I've eaten there countless times.  It's awesome food with a pretentious menu.  The whole front page of the menu is a lesson on "how to be a customer."  I thought the list of rules the the Star Seeds staff would post on a chalk board was stupid but putting an even more extensive list on the front of the menu is just lame.  Too bad their food is great.

We sauntered up to Athens and I checked into the Holiday Inn when we got to town.  Did some laundry, met the guys at the 40 watt for load in, ate at The Grit, met Cameron back at the room, walked to the gig, ate slices, had a lone star at the 40 watt, drank bourbon in the room.

Boiled Peanuts and a School Bus

(Part twelve of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning.)

The liephone said to take 316/29 back to Atlanta, jump on I-85 and be in Auburn, Al in just over three hours. Had I asserted that I drive and that I believed this suggested route was the best course of action, we might have gotten there in three to four hours. However, I had driven from Atlanta the day before and I wanted a break. The plan was to leave at 1:30 so as to avoid Atlanta rush hour and make the drive as short as it should have been. Once we actually got on the road it was 2pm and though this wasn't a tragedy in and of itself, it certainly was a harbinger of the trip ahead. It seems no one else had bothered to look at their liephone or map because we were making multiple wrong turns before getting out of Athens. The person driving then decided that there was no way he was going through Atlanta so he picked out a "scenic" route that headed south and west in order to bypass the city. The whole point of leaving at 1:30 was to avoid the traffic. After living in Austin for nine years and sitting on the parking lot that is I-35, I understand that exerting a little patience will get you through the jam and still make the highway the faster option. If we had gone through Atlanta we might have hit some traffic but we would have gotten through it and it probably wouldn't have been that bad. Instead, our three hour trip turned into a six hour trip. Bummer. Aside from buying a bottle of Vidalia Onion hot sauce at a peanut stand on the side of the road, I was as close to loosing my shit as I may have ever been. I don't think I have ever felt so pissed off from not being in control. As we got stuck behind school busses, RVs and redneck junkers on Highway 16, I bit my tongue and vowed to take the helm as much as possible from then on out. I'll sit through some interstate traffic so that I'm not in the van all day.

And once we got to Auburn and made a big liephone-induced wrong turn on our way to the club, it started pouring rain and lightning. Great. The Strutting Duck was the name of the bar we played that night. There were some nice folks working there and the food was good. Too bad there were like, seven people watching our set. We played much more than our normal set taking some chances, and why not? If a tree falls in the woods... The green room was an airstream trailer without electricity, in which we took turns shooting from the bottle of Maker's Sam and Katie bought down the street. After all, The Duck was a beer-only bar. I believe this was the night when the Jason Isbell bit really took flight. It had started in Whitesburg, but now it had full lift off, mumbling it three times and everything. Mumbling it in an OCD-Rain-Man fashion became hilarious after a gig like we had that night.

I had vowed that we would make the next day's long drive to Orlando without consulting a liephone, using only an old-fashioned road map. This also meant that I was driving. Unfortunately, we had to leave around 8:00am but with Sam's coffee I was good for awhile. The other three slept for most of what was a beautiful drive southbound on a string of state highways that stitched together the lower foothills of Georgia and the upper parts of the coastal plain that, once we got on I-75, became northern Florida . It was nice to witness this gradual transition of landscape again. Having grown up taking vacations on the beaches of the Carolinas, a large part of that liberating four hour drive east was watching the diverse foliage and red clay foothills get flattened by sand-rich soil staked with pine trees and golf resort billboards. However, unlike the beach-bound drives that own so much real estate in the nostalgic part of my brain, this day's drive had a more ominous vibe. Upon getting out of the van in the parking lot of Sonny's Real Pit BBQ, that first deep breath of thicker, saltier air meant that I was near, or perhaps already inside, Florida for the first time in my life. Yes, the ill-reputed New Jersey of the South.

"Visit Florida. See America's Wang."

I-85 is not that bad

(Part eleven of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

The show in Raleigh was pretty good. I was happy to see John Durham, Jennie's aunt, and most of the Dynamite Brothers and Birds of Avalon crew. I had come down with the van illness and felt like shit that night. What didn't help was the A/C vent that was aimed directly at my head when we were on stage. Since Sam was setting up in the middle of the stage between me and Tim, I had nowhere to go and got pounded by this thing which was possibly the longest set of the tour. We got back on stage with Tim twice that night. Even though we went on around 8:20pm, there was a good crowd and we played well. Back at the 15/501 Extended Stay, I watched a little Predator and Sleep as much I could considering we had a long drive to Atlanta the next day.

Yeah, we scenery fagged a little bit before getting on the road proper and ended up getting to The Earl at the very last minute. Even though we were running late, I made an emergency stop at Bojangles on I-85. Believe me, it was necessary. The opening second group on the bill was using our gear and we had to load it onstage immediately after arriving. The Earl is a big venue with great food and a good sound system. Our set was ok. I remember that evening I discovered my threshold for pre-show booze consumption. Two shots and three beers is too much if'n I want to feel in control. The long drive and stress of being late made me "think" that I needed to chill out with a couple drinks. Wrong way of thinking. I slept very well that night in a cozy bed at the Highland Inn. The next day, the four of us ate at The Vortex in Five Points before heading to Athens. That place has good food but they are ridiculous when it comes to teaching the customer how to be a customer. The whole front page of the menu is a lesson on how to behave in their restaurant which is quite tacky. Believe me, I understand the frustrations of dealing with idiot customers in a service industry environment, but that's how it goes. If you don't like it, find a job in another field. I reckon someone has to teach people how to behave in a restaurant but chances are, the people that need said instruction are probably the same ones who won't read the page of the menu that doesn't have food items listed.

When we got to Athens I checked into the Hollodome and did some laundry. Checked out the 40 Watt (rad) finished laundry, ate dinner at Grit (rad), met Cameron and a bottle of Bulleit back at the room (rad), headed to show. The fellow opening the show was a real sad case. Apparently, he is either awesome or pathetic, depending on his level of sobriety. This evening, he was loaded and sucking in a tragically hilarious way. The "crowd" was still booing him when we took the stage and built itself back up to 50 or 60 strong during our set. We played well and then Cameron and I went out on the town. We ended up back with Bulleit and Neil Young. Imagine that.

I have to go to work soon and will resume this later. The next part of the tour was painful and frankly, I don't have the time or the energy to write about it right now.

$24.58, I bought a headache.

(Part ten of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

Lynch's Irish Pub is a fine establishment in Jacksonville Beach, FL. It was recommended to us by a hotel employee so we took the lead and were moderately pleased. The blues band was good and the girls were good looking but the dudes were meatheads. So it goes. Our room at the Hilton is nice...perfect for blog madness.

Where was I? Oh yes. We were waking up in New London, needing to get back to Brooklyn to drop off Bartow and Aaron. But first, we had to scenery dork over to Mystic for some clam chowder or some crap. Quaint small town on mother's day=long lines at the chowder shacks. So we don't know where we are and I'm hungry so I start getting cranky and impatient. After following Sam and Tim Scenery I pulled the plug on the wild chowder chase and ate deliscious Mystic pizza with Bartow and Aaron (who was sick and didn't feel like walking all over town). It was good and I was ready to drive back to NYC and get to the South. Well, Sam and Tim didn't seem like they wanted to leave yankeeville so we found a pizza restaurant on Staten Island to make the experience last just a little longer.

I forgot to mention that an old friend of mine from when I went to N.C. State now lives in New London. I haven't spoken to him since 1995 but I saw his name on a flyer for a tattoo art show and knew it had to be him. The folks at the club confirmed that he is from N.C., tall and nice. There had been a fifty year old ban on tattoo parlors in New London and now Colby has gone in, had the ban lifted and opened a parlor. Alas, I didn't see him though I would have liked to. Colby got me into the Smoking Popes, among other bands. I thought it would have been fun to get a tattoo from him that night but he never came by the club. Oh well. I found it funny that if I had gotten a tattoo from him, two of my three would have been from Connecticut.

Soooo, we left Staten Island and drove all the way to Fredricksburg, VA where we spent the night. In the morning, we ate Waffle House and kept truckin' on down to Winston-Salem where we landed at Krankie's Coffeehouse. What a great establishment? My family met me there and I took off with them to have dinner and so forth. It was great to see them again, but that goes without saying. The show at the Garage was a lot better than we expected for W-S on a Monday night. The opener was good but he played too long. It happens and it's annoying and you get over it. Everyone wants to play in front of people but you don't always get to, as evidenced by us in Auburn.

On the way to Raleigh the next day, we went through Chapel Hill and I had lunch with Scott, Jason and Arun. That was nice. I saw Bill Kelliher walking down the street which got me bummed that I couldn't see Mastodon at the Cradle that night. Still listening to Crack The Skye and loving it even more. I bought the new Obits record in Iowa City but haven't heard it yet. Also, I got a couple care packages while in W-S, one of them containing the new Gary Louris/Mark Olson album. It is rather awesome. For the first time in a while, I have a bunch of new music to listen to!

Tim and I just listened back to some of the recordings the New Excuses made in Orlando Tuesday. That shit is hot. A brand new Gminor waltz of Tim's was particularly live and raw.

I swam in the ocean

(Part nine of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

I am in Cocoa Beach, FL right now. After a few more minutes of coffeeshop'n with Tim, we're gonna head over to Ron Jon Surf Shop so I can get a Ron Jon t-shirt. after that, we're heading to Jacksonville where we're staying at a lovely resort for two nights. I hope the weather's nice so I can swim in the pool or relax in the hot tub. Perhaps I'll watch HBO all night long. Either way,

I had a great swim in the ocean a couple of hours ago. The sun was out and there was a healthy breeze blowing. The clouds, that have been dumping rain on the majority of Florida, parted for a while which allowed a nice moment at the beach. Sitting here right now though, it seems like the clouds are rolling in. It's time to get a Panama Jack painter's cap with flaps. Or maybe a pooka shell necklace...

I'll have the four piece fried chicken dinner. All white meat, please.

(Part eight of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

I don't remember the drive to NYC but I'm sure it was raining because the second leg of our tour was covered in precipitation. We had a 4:30 load in and miraculously, we made it on time. It was miraculous because instead of taking the Holland Tunnel straight to the Mercury Lounge, we took the Lincoln Tunnel to midtown and stopped by the Gibson Guitar showroom for some hollow body hook ups. Also, Tim wanted to get his Tele's string breaking problem fixed, but that's another story. We then headed south to Chelsea where we found a PRIMO parking spot right in front of Joey Cases' Dirty Bird To-Go. Fried chicken, cornbread and roasted beets. Damn fine cooking! Joey C then took us around the corner to Chelsea Guitars which is located in the front of the Chelsea Hotel. I had wanted to see the Chelsea Hotel for a long time so I'm glad we made the short trek. Richard Lloyd, Dee Dee Ramone and thousands of lesser known degenerates did a lot of bad shit in that place. These days though, it seems like it'd be a even tougher to give it away on 7th Avenue.

I must take moment and say that the newest Mastodon record is fucking phenomenal. It got a hold of a copy right before I left Austin and I am totally hooked. Also, I heard the new Dynamite Brothers and Birds of Avalon records today. They rule as well.

Right now I am sitting in the hotel room in Athens, Georgia waiting on a load of laundry to dry so I can head over to the 40 watt and load in for tonight's show. Cameron is coming to town and we're gonna have a grand old time, I guarantee.

Anyway...

My cousin John got to the Mercury right after soundcheck and we went for Thai and beer. Great to see him again. The show had started when we got back and Bartow was there too. We went on at 8pm and rocked out. Aaron sounded so good on lead guitar and that just made us sound more phenomenal as a group. It was a shorter set than usual but that's New York. Get on, do your thing, get out. We all headed back to Brooklyn in the pouring rain after load out. Bartow, Tiffany and I went back to their house for a quick beer and beddy-by. The next day I picked up the boys in Park Slope and headed off to Philly where we got lost again, thanks to the iphone, which has now been dubbed the liephone. We got Tim to whatever radio station it was he had an interview on and the rest of the brodeo had beers in the cafe. I ran into an ex-coworker on the street...small world. Before we got to Johnny Brenda's, we passed The Fire which instantly worried me that we were playing in a shithole part of town. When Grand Champeen played the Fire four or five years ago, that part of town was awful. As it turns out, the neighborhood is up and coming and Johnny Brenda's is THE place to play. We were all extremely happy with the whole night. The owner greeted us warmly, the soundguy was behind the board the ENTIRE set (I'm looking at you Continental Club), the food was good, the bartenders were nice and the room itself was unique and warm. The other night I told Kevn Kinney that we had a good show at a great venue in Philadelphia and he didn't believe me. We proceeded to swap "New Excuse" stories and let me tell you, he had some good ones. The point= Johnny Brenda's rocks. We went back to Brooklyn after the gig and crashed at JP Olsen's house in Park Slope.

I slept extremely well but when I woke up at noon, I got outta there and took the F train to Bartow's where I took a shower and changed clothes. I got back on the F train to Broadway-Lafayette and Bartow at his office around 2pm. We had great Vietnamese sandwiches, went browsing for mothers day gifts in SoHo and checked out a new coffee shop called La Colombe he had heard about. Then, FINALLY, I walked the brooklyn bridge. It was a beautiful day and I took some great photos from and of the bridge. It was a great walk and I'm so glad I did it. Bartow and I freshened up and then went back into the city for pizza at another new place he's heard about, L'Asso. It was good pizza and a bottle of shiraz. Then we cruised over to the venue of Tim's artwork showing for margaritas, wine and a brief solo acoustic performance by Tim. Bartow and I then headed to the upper east side and met Tiffany at some restaurant/bar called Southern Hospitality. Ha! It seemed like they were trying to emulate the style of a southern restaurant like Lupie's. The only problem is that when it's filled with yankee goombah fratboys, it ain't gonna be a southern restaurant. Why don't they keep their own lame New England style instead of ripping off that of the South? Whatever. We left there and went to some other bar that was filled with lame music and people. The bar itself was cool as shit with the majority of the patrons in the basement catacombs. Screw that, back to Vinegar Hill.

Bartow and I got picked up for our scenery homo event of driving out to the tip of the northern fork of Long Island in order to take the ferry from Orient Point to New London. We had lunch in Westhampton at a cute little diner called Eckert's and saw the beach nearby. It was after lunch that people start admitting to illness and our van becomes knowingly inflected with swine flu. Great. The ferry ride was nice except that there was a thick fog on the sound and we couldn't see anything once we got past Plum Island. Oh well, no big deal. We were out of the van and having nice bro time. Once we got to New London the liephone deceived us several times before we made it to the hotel, only to go straight to the club. I was behind the wheel and I don't like getting lost so I was a little aggravated. So much so, that Bartow and I did carbombs immediately after parking the van at the Oasis. That's better. Sean and Shannon at the Oasis were terrific, feeding us and plying us with libations. The opening band, Tommy McLiketohearmyselftalk went on later than scheduled which put us on later than we wanted and backed our set right up against last call which always sucks. It was a dick move by a bush league local band who wanted to hoard the stage instead of acting professional and being considerate towards the out of town band/headliner. We had a great third show with Aaron and due to he and Sam having watched the new Wilco film before the show, their performances were a bit more inspired from having seen the movie. It's kinda what we used to do back in the days when we skateboarded. We'd watch the Search for Animal Chin and get all psyched to go out and try kickflips for two hours.

Back to the hotel where sickies Aaron and Sam shared a room while Bartow, Tim and I had another. Since this was the last show of Phase II, I will end this post before it gets any longer. I mean, does anyone have enough time to read this shit?

Tim Easton and the New Excuses

(Part seven of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

Hello Charleston! The drive up to Charleston, WV from Whitesburg was quite nice. The sky was a porous veil of clouds allowing both sunshine and rain to peer down onto the mountainous, wooded landscape full of trees in varying states of bloom. We got to Charleston and relied too heavily on the iphone, causing us to get lost and frustrated. Yes, the iphone is amazing but it doesn't not always make a perfect substitute for a Rand McNally road atlas or a simple phone call for directions. We eventually found the Mountain Stage building, but had enough time check in to our hotel. Mountain Stage set each of us up with our own room at the Marriott which was sweetness. Back at Mtn. Stage we ate a catered dinner and ragged on the Kings Of Leon for posing like The Band on the cover of Rolling Stone. I mean, really. The little Colonel Sanders bow ties, theater dork vests and preacher man hats with the Upstate New York background. Puke. Their music is just fine but their imaging and marketing is stupid. It seems like they have to rely heavily on their cuteness because their music isn't good enough to speak for itself. It's all image these days, people. The days of bands like Supertramp becoming successful are over. The popularity industry isn't interested in supporting thirty or forty year olds who make awesome music. REM got in just under the wire... when it was cool to look weird.

The Mountain Stage performance was stiff due to its nature. We had a specific amount of time to perform five songs and we had to be very quiet and there was no beer. It was exactly like the mild mannered NPR thing that has been parodied on Saturday Night Live. When we took the stage, Sam needed to make quite a few adjustments to the drum kit and instead of interviewing Tim in front of the crowd, or even just vamping on some g-rated shit, the emcee stared silently at Sam which in turn made all of us uncomfortable. I think the emcee did a pretty mediocre job at entertaining but I guess Garrison Keillor he ain't. Not cool. What was cool was going to see the Carpenter Ants at the Empty Glass later that night. The Carpenter Ants were partially the Mountain Stage house band and partially some other dudes. They did some great obscure old R&B, rock and roll, soul and gospel tunes. During one of their set breaks they let us play a few tunes which allowed us to kick out the jams and achieve redemption for the stiff performance earlier.

We had the next day off and we spent it driving to Vienna, VA where we stayed the night with a friend of Tim's. At one roadside stop along the way, we saw a huge painting of a bloodied Jesus on the cross, telling us we were going to hell. All we needed was a restroom break and some snacks and to have such guilt and judgment thrown at us! Well, I never! Actually, I have. That is my experience in Western Maryland. Once we safely removed the van from our nation's interstate system, we had some grub and watched a little TV before retiring for the evening. Though it hadn't been a stressful day, a day full of driving can be tiring nonetheless.

Tuesday morning we took the Metro into DC and looked up Sam's congressional representative in order to get into the House Gallery and see the government at work. Once we got into the gallery, we found out that the "work" our government was doing was trying to convince the powers that be that a post office in Long Island, NY should be renamed in honor of Geraldine Ferraro. We heard testimonials from Representatives from five states other than NY which was a little confounding, considering it's one of how many thousand post offices in this country! Rename the damn thing and get on with it! After that experience, I had lunch in the Sculpture Garden Cafe and then explored the Museum of American History. The reconvened near the Black Ops Bench on the mall and then took the train back out to Vienna.

The show at the IOTA Cafe was pleasant. There were some people there and it was raining and the opening band from Nova Scotia was great and we played well. I appreciate Avery and Alice and Brandon and Alan coming out to the show. It's great to see old friends when passing through their town on a tour. Next stop, New York City.

By the way, this show in Arlington marked the beginning of the second phase of our tour. No old bits. All new bits. Act II in progress. Enter our fearless swordsman, Senor Tasjan.

Can't Keep Up

(Part six of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

Yeah, I can't keep up with writing. So much has happened since I last wrote, I don't even remember when I last wrote. I'm currently in Brooklyn, having a beer after having walked the Brooklyn Bridge with my friend Bartow. It was my first trip across the bridge on foot and after having read The Great Bridge, it was a terrific experience. The weather finally cleared up. It has rained everyday since we were in Minneapolis and it's getting quite old. I hope it stays clear for our trip up to Connecticut tomorrow. The plan is to drive out through Long Island and take the ferry from the tip of the island over to New London where we are playing that night. We want to stop and see Ace Frehley's childhood home if there's time. Should be a blast.

I just looked at my last post and it was in Columbus which was a week ago. Damn. There have been four shows and one live recording for radio broadcast since then. We've been in appalachian territory and huge east coast cities. Touring is awesome.

The show in Columbus ruled. We really needed it as a group. The crowd was right up against the stage and definitely feeding off our energy which in turn, gave us something to feed off. The previous weeks performances led perfectly to that moment. It's a shame that no one recorded it. Megan Palmer, who played on Porcupine, played violin with us on quite few numbers and added a great element to the songs she played on. Stones Throw Away specifically. I enjoyed seeing Shane and Micah Garage that night... it was cool of them to come out. I wanted to see Josh Kayser too but i should have known he'd be a punk ass bitch and not come out. Jive ass muthafucka.

The next evening we played Whitesburg, Kentucky at a venue called Summit City. We took Highway 23 (Columbus' High Street) down through Michael Hurley's home of Portsmouth, Ohio and crossed into Kentucky where we stayed on 23 until we split off on 119 south. The light rain and fog covering the thickly wooded hills made me feel like Whitesburg was a secret hamlet tucked away in a distant holler that we were quite lucky to discover. Amelia and Joel owned Summit City and really took care of us while we were there. We stayed in the apartment on the second floor and had some tasty grub made right there in the venue. That happened to be Kentucky Derby day which may have contributed to the smaller turnout. That's our new excuse anyway. After all, we are Tim Easton and the New Excuses. Even though I couldn't care less about the derby, I had a Mint Julep in honor of the regional event. It helped me realize that I just don't like bourbon that much. The mint and sugar were tasty but the bourbon just put it too far over the line. Anyway, the opening band Folk Soul Revival did a nice little set and then we played to a decent crowd. We were certainly loud in that room but it worked out. We heard a lot about how Jason Isbell had recently played there and that he had gotten loaded. Jason Isbell, Jason Isbell, Jason Isbell, etc...

Bartow and I are heading into Manhattan to have dinner and then go to Easton's art show in Soho. I'll have to get back to this later because I haven't covered Charleston, D.C., New York or Philly. In a nutshell, the show's have been great. The last two nights, in New York and Philly, have been a four piece with Tasjan back on lead guitar. That dude rips and has added another layer to the music that has really catapulted the performances into an even greater realm than they were before. Later...

Ohio Buttguys

(Part five of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

Now I'm back in Columbus. It has been a good ride up to Minneapolis and back. The show at the Hideout in Chicago last night was weird. I've played the Hideout many times and that was the most reserved crowd I have ever seen. I have a feeling that everyone that came to see the show thought it was gonna be a more mellow affair. I listened to some of the recording today and it was rocking and mellow... a great mixture, in fact. It's really too bad if people don't appreciate what this outfit is doing with Tim's music. We're giving it a life that if doesn't often see except on recordings. I know he plays with other folks from time to time but we're really getting this shit going. So last night there was a timid arc, a shy horseshoe, a cool line. Everyone was as close to a wall as they could get and you could hear a pin drop after the applause between songs.

The set in Minneapolis the night before was a lot of fun. It felt like the first real show, largely due to the high-end PA, rock club lighting and general proper club vibe that the 400 bar possesses. There were a few SNAFUs in the set but nothing to cry about. The crowd came out to see the show and everyone stayed until the end, seemingly enjoying everything we did. There were even a few ladies dancing! Tom Sullivan, the proprietor of the bar, regailed me with stories of Karl Mueller and other rock dignitaries that have graced his stage. The fun night was compounded by the presence of Baby Grant Johnson and Kruddler. After the show Tony and I stayed up with some Pabst and pizza. Good times up north, for sure.

We're playing the Rhumba Room with Sam's band You're So Bossy opening the show. It's raining but it'll be good regardless. Home town show be rocktastic!

Ok, now we got it

(Part four of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

I'm sitting in Iowa City, getting ready to go to Minneapolis for our gig at the 400 bar. We played and rehearsed yesterday at the Day Trotter studio in downtown Rock Island, IL. We cut versions of "Porcupine," "The Young Girls," "Broke My Heart" and a new one called "I'm In Love With You." It was a fun experience but after a five hour drive, an intense rehearsal and live-to-two-track recording, we were frazzled and needed to eat dinner. There was a cheesy pizza restaurant below the studio in which we grubbed and decided to drive to Iowa City, drink some beers and construct a set list. And that's what we did. Got a cheap room next to The Mill and wished we were playing a show.

The show in Ft. Wayne the night before was pretty good. The stage setup was a little awkward and the stage was extremely illuminated but it was fine. The Brass Rail reminded me of The Fire in Philly... pretty dingy.

Showdown in Roundtown

(Part three of a sequential tour narrative. Go to April, 25 2009 to start at the beginning)

Our first show was in Circleville, Ohio which is 35 miles south of Columbus. We ran into Sam and Jenna right when we pulled up to the venue, Toodles Pumpkin Inn. We loaded in, ate lasagna from a joint across the street, and hung out for a few minutes before playing. Sometime in between setting up and playing, the stage area took on an odor of feet that was pretty gross. I had gone to the bar for a shot and beer and while I was gone someone must have hidden some Fromunda cheese in Tim's amp so it would heat up and really permeate the room.

Anyway, we were to play three sets with two breaks no longer than fifteen minutes apiece. We had a list of around 25 songs and we played all but three of those. In their stead, Tim whipped out at least as many that I had never heard before which was exciting. We jammed a few blues numbers out, stretching our legs and seeing how we play together. After all, it was the first time the three of us had even been in the same room together. All in all, the show went really well. People I talked to expressed that they couldn't tell we had never played together before. I was a bit loosie-goosie but that's to be expected. I had been in a van for the better part of two days and was hung over from the previous night's adventure in Nashvegas. We spent the night at Tim's in-laws house, which was a really nice place on the out-skirts of Circleville. After the nightcap of a cold Natural Light I took from Richard's stash in the garage fridge, I retired to a bed and a room to myself. Oh, sweet slumber.