Been a bit since I've updated this. Seems as good a time as any. Last night we played One Eyed Jack's Roadhouse in Lynwood. It was to benefit a family who had lost their home and belongings to a fire. We figured a good cause, why not. We all got to the venue at staggered times. No big deal their either. We were slated to go on last so there wasn't a big rush. Plus there wasn't enough room for all the bands to be loaded in at the sametime. We all got there in time to see TuT play. They played a great set. We were all suprised how good the sound was listening from the crowd. The PA had a lot of juice behind it and Chris' vocals were cutting through really well.
After TuT, it was time for the first Wreckless Freeks set. Now if you are unfamiliar with the Wreckless Freeks, they are a freak show/circus sideshow act. Comprised of three people The Mighty Lurch, J.K. FourtySeven and Dee Bauchery. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. They started in with Lurch taking a mouse trap to the tongue, then Dee shoving a buck fifty worth of quarters up her nose (One of which getting stuck and needed to be extracted with pliers). They went on to bust cinder blocks over J.K.'s junk and so on. Bringing on the close to their set in which they had people come up with donations to the benefit and staple gun it to their body. Different parts of the body for different denominations. All very disturbing and very fun to watch.
Sausage Slapper came up next with a lead singer dawning a cape with the Sausage Slapper logo. They were what could be best described as parody death metal. They describe themselves on their web site as "A Mack truck smashing a V.W. bus into a meteorite of Krypton." It was definitely it's own thing. Once again I had never seen anything quite like it. They played a good set, but all the while some guy in the audience was wandering around with his junk hanging out of his pants as folks took turns to try and kick it. Very weird.
Anyway, as Sausage Slapper wound down their set Wreckless Freeks set up for their second set. Lurch assured me in between sets that the second set was far more over the top than the first. He wasn't kidding. Varying stunts of laying their face in glass and having a girl from the audience stand on their head. Beds of nails were incorporated. Imagine this odd sandwich, Lurch on the bottom, chest down in glass. A bed of nails with the nails going into his back, Dee laying on the flat side of the bed with a cinder block on her stomach as J.K. smashes the cinder block with a sledge hammer. You know that kind of thing.
They finished up their second set as they finished the first with the staple gun. We were finally up. We should have seen the signs early on. Wes didn't have his bag with him that contain all his cables, amp power cord and tuner. I loaned him my tuner before hand so he could tune up. He hand it back to me and for some unknown reason it crapped out along with my Wah Wah pedal. So I had to quickly tune by ear. We fired off into the intro and suddenly that great sound you hear from the crowd is not at all apparent on stage. The way the stage was set up was a little odd. It was too small to have us all on it. So our amps and Doug were all on stage the other three of us on the floor. A position that perfectly lines your ears up with 2 guitar amps. Hearing anything beyond the guitar from that vantage was impossible. I knew from that first note that things were a little off. But we persevered. Getting through 2 and half songs at which point I broke 2 strings, my low E and A strings, which for us (and most hard rock bands) are pretty critical. I threw my guitar down in frustration and pulled out my back up. I remembered then that I had no tuner to work with. So I finished out the next verse sans guitar and quickly tried to tune it up during the next instrumental break. The next few songs were a bit of a blur and went off without too much of a hitch, minus Lee's bass that was cutting out from time to time. We were finally down to our last 2 songs. Actually we had a few more in the arsenal, but we just wanted to stop the bleeding. I opted to play Read Em and Weep, which may have been a bad choice. My hands cramped a little and for some reason the act of playing a simple E to G shuffle was absolutely impossible. I managed to get my head out of my ass long enough to get through the first verse, at which point I broke 2 more strings and quickly lodge my head right back where it was, up my ass. I completely missed my queue for the second verse and geeked myself out enough to screw up the first portion of the chorus too. It's one of those moments that you just want to stop, apologize and walk off stage. It's embarrassing. It's actually hard to cope with. We made it through Read Em and Weep without further issue fortunately. We decided to play Taking My Anger Back and get the hell off the stage. Anger went well. We were at least finishing on a high note. But as we ended the crowd screamed for one more. We should have said no. We opted to finish up with our cover of Shake Your Blood. It went ok until we got to the bass solo and for some reason I lost the ability to count to 4 and decide to start the final verse on like 3 and a half. This little stunt threw Doug and Lee off as well and they did their best to cover my gaffe. Usually when something like that happens we cover pretty well, because let's be honest, shit happens just about every show. Most times however it's just one of us that's having an off night and the other three can cover. This time we were not firing on all pistons and covering was impossible. It was a rough night. There were several people afterwards who said they enjoyed it. So maybe I'm being overly critical of myself and it wasn't as bad as I thought. But from my perspective it was my personal worst performance. I try and console myself by saying that we've played about 40 shows this year and it was bound to happen. But the fact of the matter is that my work schedule has screwed us over the past few months and we haven't been able to get the practice in. Fortunately that will change soon.
I made the analogy to my wife last night, she used to play soccer, that you don't just show up for the games. You have to practice in between them so you can plan and cope with the unexpected. Otherwise you end up just being a poor player. That's what we've been doing really for the past month and a half. Our show schedule has been booked solid so no real time to practice or write. But like I said that will soon be rectified.
Anyway, back to the story. I was, needless to say, grumpy on the car ride home. We got about half way home when I realized that I had not closed out my bar tab. So to add insult to injury, I had to call the bar to see if they were still there so I could swing by and pick up my card. We turned around and headed back to Lynwood. This really did not improve my mood much. I woke up this morning kind of feeling ashamed. So I figured I would share with everyone, since that was the point of this blog, sharing everything that happens with in the world of playing in an indie band. For better or for worse. It doesn't always go well. Sometimes shit happens. We just got to do better next time at dealing with it. I just have to learn to make light of it. There's nothing I can change about last night. I played bad. I apologize to the folks who came out to see us. I want to put on a good performance. I will do my best to make that happen from here on out, no matter what. I also apologize to my band mates for not being able to right the ship once we started listing. In the end, nothing ever really goes perfectly. I just have to regulate the amount of time I spend with my head hibernating up my own butt.
And now it's over... We shall never speak of it again.
That is all...
adam
WCG
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
The Full Account... The final entry.
So the final entry in this, whirlwind, 10 day endeavor.
We woke up in San Rafael and ready to hit the road. Oddly not hitting a Denny's this particular morning. We knew we had a really long drive ahead of us. Some 380 miles to go.
We hit the strange back roads and opted not to stop to eat until he got to I-5. What I did find odd that there was a Six Flags out there in Vallejo. I had no idea this one even existed. We came around an odd hill and low and behold just on the other side was a hidden theme park. It looked like a lot of fun. But pressed for time, no roller coasters for us.
We ended up back on I-5 just south of Redding and we were all pretty hungry by this point. So the first thing we see. Jack In The Box. Lee and his sensitive stomach and odd eating habits, opted not to eat anything right then. With a quick bite in our bellies it was back on the road.
As we were a ways up the road I got a call from my wife who said she had checked Johnny B's calender and we weren't listed on it. Seemed weird but we weren't worried too much. Wes attempted to call the club, but there was no answer.
Doug, a bit road weary, I could tell, was a little nervous about us not being on the calender. Wes found another website that we were listed as playing. We had stopped in Weed for a quick break from driving and Doug told us that if the show wasn't going to happen he wouldn't mind driving all the way up to Portland that night. I thought this idea was total lunacy and told him as much. And onward we went toward Medford.
We rolled into Medford roughly around 5pm. We didn't make to bad of time. We located Johnny B's, which wasn't open yet. We parked off to the side of the road and proceed to argue as to what our next action should be. Actually more accurately, Doug and Wes started bickering back and forth. Lee smoothed the situation over quickly and calmly, which I found really impressive. The compromise was that we would leave around 9am the next morning and stay in Medford show or no show.
Medford is kind of a cool little small town. We easily found our way around and figured out the lay of the land very quickly. We back tracked toward the freeway and checked into the ever trusty Motel 6. Wes again tried to call the club to no avail. Still not open.
We hopped in the car and swing by yet again. It's only a mile from the hotel to the club, so it was a quick jaunt. We all decided we were hungry so we swung over to a place called Trophy's. The clientele was an interesting array of twitchy tweakers and bar regulars. We ordered up the standard bar fair; french dip, burgers and the like. We finished up eating and Wes tried yet again to call the club. Still nothing.
We swung by there one last time at around 7pm. The owner was rushing into to open up. Obviously running late he was frantic to get things open. We chatted with him and apparently I dropped the ball on this one. He was wanting a confirmation call a week before the show which I never made. He said we could do an opening slot if we still wanted to play. We took it.
After a short stop to visit Lee's niece and drop off a little care package of a WCG tshirt and CD we headed back over to the club to load in and set up. Everyone there was actually really nice. We met with the other bands; The Hollowbodys, Bloody Mess and The Harrington Saints. All of them really cool folks and had no problem with us being on the bill. The fellas from The Harrington Saints realized we played their home town (Oakland) the night before and wondered who we played with. We told them the stories of the guy who lit his junk on fire. They new of this gimmicky little band and said they had played with them not too long ago. They were equally disturbed by the spectacle of it all.
We got ourselves set up and chatted with some fella who was going to film the whole show. No idea where that video may be yet. Anyway, Johnny B's as a club is very cool little joint. Very rockabilly oriented in decor. We went on to play our set and knowing it was our last show of the tour we went all out and played one of our best of the entire tour. We made use of every inch of the small stage. We got a really great response from the crowd on hand, as well as from the other bands. Who all stated we probably shouldn't have opened.
We quickly tore down and the Hollowbodys got all set up. They were definitely more rockabilly driven. I got stuck outside babysitting our gear while I waited for Doug to get the trailer unlocked. But he was on the phone with his wife giving her a run down of how our set went. He finally got off and we loaded the trailer. I got back inside to watch the Hollowbodys last few songs. Then A Bloody Mess went on. Which oddly is the exact same band as the Hollowbodys just with a different singer and a slightly more glam rock style. The singer of a Bloody Mess proclaimed he was a "Dive Bar Rockstar." Both bands were very cool in 2 vastly different ways.
We had sold out of pretty much everything at this point. We had a few tank tops and CDs left. That was it. Yet I was still sitting there at our merch table. I didn't want to sit there anymore so I got up to watch the show. Doug asked me if I wanted to pack it up so no one would steal anything. I told him screw it. We're on our last day and if people wanted that stuff bad enough to steal it, more power to them. At least they wanted more of us.
The Harrington Saints got all set up. These guys were big. I mean they were just big fellas. Shaking their hands, they baseball mitts for hands. They started in playing and we were all hooked. One of the best bands we played with all throughout the tour. They were sort of a hybrid of Sick Of It All meets Drop Kick Murphys. A chanty Oi punk vibe about them. It was awesome. We told them when they got done with their set anytime, anywhere they ever wanted to play together again we'd be down.
A great finale show to the tour. Awesome bands, awesome crowd. Just a good night in general. We had a few more beers at the bar and realizing it was close to last call we knew we had to get to a convenience store quickly. We got there just at the stroke of 2am. The guy at the counter was nice enough to let us know that he thinks his clock might be fast. We walked out and noticed another band that appeared to be on tour gassing up. Lee approached them as a kindred spirit. Come to find out these these guys, who couldn't have been over 20, were all complete douches. As we walked up to talk to them one of them held up his spiffy little backstage laminate in front of Lee's face. I can't really remember the name of their band, but it was something stupid and sounded like cheesy death metal. Either way they were dicks and thought awfully highly of themselves. Even now, as I write this, it's causing a visceral reaction in me and I want to comment further, but I'll refrain.
Anyway, we got back to the hotel and Wes and Lee decide they were going to walk to Jack In The Box and see if Wes couldn't accomplish what he had the night before of walking through the drive thru. I guess, however they didn't even get out of the parking lot when they heard someone holler. It was a couple of the guys from The Harrington Saints. They picked them up and gave a ride to Jack In The Box. Like I said, really cool guys. Wes and Lee got back with a myriad of J in the B food. Much of which we couldn't finish off.
After eating Doug was fading quickly. So Wes, Lee and I moved over to their room. We sat up and had a few more beers and watched Gnarls Barkley on PBS. Once again that rockstar life! I decide it was time for me to hit the hay too. So I went back to the other room and crashed while Wes and Lee stayed up hoping that we wouldn't wake up at 9am.
But we did get up at 9am. Surprisingly Wes and Lee were up too. Well, with a little prodding from Doug. We all got ready and hoped to be back in Seattle by around 5pm or so. At least that was the plan. We got up the road a bit and had our final Denny's round table. I realized at this point, at least in my opinion, we had really hit our stride and if the tour was longer we would have had no trouble going on. But alas it was not to be. We were heading home. We got to Portland and ran into traffic. All the way through Portland on across the Washington border. We kept hitting traffic jam after traffic jam. Through the Nisqually Basin. Then another 15 mile back up just north of there. Wes had apparently seen some guy with no teeth driving next to us and started working on his "No teeth face." He would look at me at random times with this weird look on his face like he was trying to eat his upper lip. We finally rolled into Seattle just short of 8pm. We got to the studio and unloaded our gear. We parted ways, sweaty, stinky and tired. But we had done it... We had played 7 shows in 10 days covering the span of over 2500 miles without killing each other. We brought our music to the masses up and down the I-5 corridor. And would I do it again? Oh hell yeah!
adam
wcg
We woke up in San Rafael and ready to hit the road. Oddly not hitting a Denny's this particular morning. We knew we had a really long drive ahead of us. Some 380 miles to go.
We hit the strange back roads and opted not to stop to eat until he got to I-5. What I did find odd that there was a Six Flags out there in Vallejo. I had no idea this one even existed. We came around an odd hill and low and behold just on the other side was a hidden theme park. It looked like a lot of fun. But pressed for time, no roller coasters for us.
We ended up back on I-5 just south of Redding and we were all pretty hungry by this point. So the first thing we see. Jack In The Box. Lee and his sensitive stomach and odd eating habits, opted not to eat anything right then. With a quick bite in our bellies it was back on the road.
As we were a ways up the road I got a call from my wife who said she had checked Johnny B's calender and we weren't listed on it. Seemed weird but we weren't worried too much. Wes attempted to call the club, but there was no answer.
Doug, a bit road weary, I could tell, was a little nervous about us not being on the calender. Wes found another website that we were listed as playing. We had stopped in Weed for a quick break from driving and Doug told us that if the show wasn't going to happen he wouldn't mind driving all the way up to Portland that night. I thought this idea was total lunacy and told him as much. And onward we went toward Medford.
We rolled into Medford roughly around 5pm. We didn't make to bad of time. We located Johnny B's, which wasn't open yet. We parked off to the side of the road and proceed to argue as to what our next action should be. Actually more accurately, Doug and Wes started bickering back and forth. Lee smoothed the situation over quickly and calmly, which I found really impressive. The compromise was that we would leave around 9am the next morning and stay in Medford show or no show.
Medford is kind of a cool little small town. We easily found our way around and figured out the lay of the land very quickly. We back tracked toward the freeway and checked into the ever trusty Motel 6. Wes again tried to call the club to no avail. Still not open.
We hopped in the car and swing by yet again. It's only a mile from the hotel to the club, so it was a quick jaunt. We all decided we were hungry so we swung over to a place called Trophy's. The clientele was an interesting array of twitchy tweakers and bar regulars. We ordered up the standard bar fair; french dip, burgers and the like. We finished up eating and Wes tried yet again to call the club. Still nothing.
We swung by there one last time at around 7pm. The owner was rushing into to open up. Obviously running late he was frantic to get things open. We chatted with him and apparently I dropped the ball on this one. He was wanting a confirmation call a week before the show which I never made. He said we could do an opening slot if we still wanted to play. We took it.
After a short stop to visit Lee's niece and drop off a little care package of a WCG tshirt and CD we headed back over to the club to load in and set up. Everyone there was actually really nice. We met with the other bands; The Hollowbodys, Bloody Mess and The Harrington Saints. All of them really cool folks and had no problem with us being on the bill. The fellas from The Harrington Saints realized we played their home town (Oakland) the night before and wondered who we played with. We told them the stories of the guy who lit his junk on fire. They new of this gimmicky little band and said they had played with them not too long ago. They were equally disturbed by the spectacle of it all.
We got ourselves set up and chatted with some fella who was going to film the whole show. No idea where that video may be yet. Anyway, Johnny B's as a club is very cool little joint. Very rockabilly oriented in decor. We went on to play our set and knowing it was our last show of the tour we went all out and played one of our best of the entire tour. We made use of every inch of the small stage. We got a really great response from the crowd on hand, as well as from the other bands. Who all stated we probably shouldn't have opened.
We quickly tore down and the Hollowbodys got all set up. They were definitely more rockabilly driven. I got stuck outside babysitting our gear while I waited for Doug to get the trailer unlocked. But he was on the phone with his wife giving her a run down of how our set went. He finally got off and we loaded the trailer. I got back inside to watch the Hollowbodys last few songs. Then A Bloody Mess went on. Which oddly is the exact same band as the Hollowbodys just with a different singer and a slightly more glam rock style. The singer of a Bloody Mess proclaimed he was a "Dive Bar Rockstar." Both bands were very cool in 2 vastly different ways.
We had sold out of pretty much everything at this point. We had a few tank tops and CDs left. That was it. Yet I was still sitting there at our merch table. I didn't want to sit there anymore so I got up to watch the show. Doug asked me if I wanted to pack it up so no one would steal anything. I told him screw it. We're on our last day and if people wanted that stuff bad enough to steal it, more power to them. At least they wanted more of us.
The Harrington Saints got all set up. These guys were big. I mean they were just big fellas. Shaking their hands, they baseball mitts for hands. They started in playing and we were all hooked. One of the best bands we played with all throughout the tour. They were sort of a hybrid of Sick Of It All meets Drop Kick Murphys. A chanty Oi punk vibe about them. It was awesome. We told them when they got done with their set anytime, anywhere they ever wanted to play together again we'd be down.
A great finale show to the tour. Awesome bands, awesome crowd. Just a good night in general. We had a few more beers at the bar and realizing it was close to last call we knew we had to get to a convenience store quickly. We got there just at the stroke of 2am. The guy at the counter was nice enough to let us know that he thinks his clock might be fast. We walked out and noticed another band that appeared to be on tour gassing up. Lee approached them as a kindred spirit. Come to find out these these guys, who couldn't have been over 20, were all complete douches. As we walked up to talk to them one of them held up his spiffy little backstage laminate in front of Lee's face. I can't really remember the name of their band, but it was something stupid and sounded like cheesy death metal. Either way they were dicks and thought awfully highly of themselves. Even now, as I write this, it's causing a visceral reaction in me and I want to comment further, but I'll refrain.
Anyway, we got back to the hotel and Wes and Lee decide they were going to walk to Jack In The Box and see if Wes couldn't accomplish what he had the night before of walking through the drive thru. I guess, however they didn't even get out of the parking lot when they heard someone holler. It was a couple of the guys from The Harrington Saints. They picked them up and gave a ride to Jack In The Box. Like I said, really cool guys. Wes and Lee got back with a myriad of J in the B food. Much of which we couldn't finish off.
After eating Doug was fading quickly. So Wes, Lee and I moved over to their room. We sat up and had a few more beers and watched Gnarls Barkley on PBS. Once again that rockstar life! I decide it was time for me to hit the hay too. So I went back to the other room and crashed while Wes and Lee stayed up hoping that we wouldn't wake up at 9am.
But we did get up at 9am. Surprisingly Wes and Lee were up too. Well, with a little prodding from Doug. We all got ready and hoped to be back in Seattle by around 5pm or so. At least that was the plan. We got up the road a bit and had our final Denny's round table. I realized at this point, at least in my opinion, we had really hit our stride and if the tour was longer we would have had no trouble going on. But alas it was not to be. We were heading home. We got to Portland and ran into traffic. All the way through Portland on across the Washington border. We kept hitting traffic jam after traffic jam. Through the Nisqually Basin. Then another 15 mile back up just north of there. Wes had apparently seen some guy with no teeth driving next to us and started working on his "No teeth face." He would look at me at random times with this weird look on his face like he was trying to eat his upper lip. We finally rolled into Seattle just short of 8pm. We got to the studio and unloaded our gear. We parted ways, sweaty, stinky and tired. But we had done it... We had played 7 shows in 10 days covering the span of over 2500 miles without killing each other. We brought our music to the masses up and down the I-5 corridor. And would I do it again? Oh hell yeah!
adam
wcg
Saturday, September 3, 2011
The Full Account... Part 4.
Friday morning rolled around, Wes wanted to leave behind a tank top at the Super 8 check out desk for our new found buddies from Canada that were still staying there. This oddly became futile because they said they never got it. The front desk said they left it in their room. Lies from the Super 8 in Buttonwillow Junction.
We enjoyed yet another Build Your Own Slam at Denny's and headed back on the road toward Oakland. In the midst of our drive through the 100 degree temperatures there was one small incident. Cruising down the road at 70 mph I was following behind a a pick up with a small trailer. I had the intention of passing him. Doug was following close behind me. As I was just about to get over the truck in front of me moved over too. Right in the middle of the road was a semi tire. I had a small moment of panic and weaved into the left lane, however in the process I managed to hit the horn at the same time. Which brought hours of amusement for Wes who was riding with me on this leg. The panicked swerve and simultaneous beep.
The remainder of the drive was pretty uneventful outside of traffic once we hit Oakland around 5pm. We had got word that it might be an early show. Something like 6 or 7pm. We hustled over to Eli's Mile High Club and found that they were equally confused about start time as we were.
We realized that this is not the best part of Oakland. Eli's is located just outside of the downtown district on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. As we were walking in there was a crazy lady who was yelling about a lot of things just outside the front door of the club. As Wes and I approached she sort directed her yelling in our direction. I looked at Wes and said "I think she just called us faggots." Which she did. Wes replied, "She was yelling long before we got here and probably long after we leave. Chances are we won't be the only ones."
True enough. I saw her across the street later that night still commenting on the sexuality of others.
We talked to the bartender about a near by place to stay and he suggested a place called the Maya Motel. We headed over there to see if we could get a room. It was in what looked to be a decent neighborhood, but it was a motel with weekly rates and only single rooms. We opted to pass. We went down another road that seemed to have a lot of hotels on it. Passing by several who's parking lots weren't very well equipped for the truck and trailer. We stopped to get our bearings as Wes opted to try his phone for a nearby Motel 6. There were a couple pretty close by, but all were booked. While Wes was trying to figure this out Doug was chatting to some fella who happen to be waiting for his bus. The guy's input was that he wouldn't stay anywhere close to that area. By his figuring we would come out in the morning to a truck with no trailer. So that clinched it. 20 miles north in a town called San Rafael was a Motel 6 with plenty of rooms. That was it. Wes called and secured 2 rooms.
We headed back to the club and bellied up to the bar. Happy hour Hamms for a $1.50. Not to shabby. We all grabbed a bite. Some of us made better choices than other in our bar food selection. Wes and Lee opted for the chicken strip basket... Blackened (burnt). We loaded in and set up. At this point none of the other bands were there. The sound guy was and he said he was just filling in for the regular guy. We meandered about until we got an accurate start time. 9pm. The sound guy only had 1 operational mic, so once again we had to put ours to use.
Eli's is an interesting club. Definitely the crustiest of crusty punk clubs. Everyone was really nice though. We sat out on the back patio for awhile. A patio reminiscent of something out of Sanford and Son. Finally the 2 of the other bands showed up. Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings and Death Ray. Still no sign of Death Wish V and not entirely certain whether they were going to show. We had hit the road before I got final confirmation from them.
The original line up for the show was suppose to be Get Dead, Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings and us. Well, Get Dead had to cancel, they had gotten a show here in Seattle with the Cromags. They suggested Death Wish V. I didn't hear anything from them so contacted Tricky Monk to see if they had someone to fill the slot. They said they would get a band they knew called Death Ray. I contacted Death Wish V to see what had happened there and they had no idea what I was talking about. When we left that's what I knew. When we got down there and saw the list Tricky Monk, Death Ray and Death Wish V were all on the bill. I thought well cool. Everything worked out.
Well, we went on and the crowd seemed to like us, but they definitely weren't there for us. The sound guy, not being familiar with the system, struggled all throughout our set. Feedback, mics cutting out and so on. Death Ray went on next and this band was a very strange entity. A large bass cab in between 2 guys playing playing prerecorded drum and bass lines with some synth mixed in. The 2 guys had guitars. They played kind of a pop punk kind of music style. But it seemed more of a parody. I wasn't sure what to make of them. They had bizarre on stage antics, like one of the guys cutting off his clothes with scissors through the song. Then went through there set and they guy who had cut his clothes off was wearing speedos with some sort of apparatus built into it. He then proceed to light his junk on fire and it would act as a weird blowtorch. Not to mention it stank.
Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings went on next. They are very talented band that I guess had relocated to the Bay Area from somewhere back east. Again a relatively pop punk based band with a little more edge to them. They put on a great set. But unfortunately they played a little too long. The door man asked them to wrap things up with their last song and they rolled into 2 or 3 songs which had the door man pissed and yelling and kicking chairs. Made for a very uncomfortable room all of a sudden.
Death Wish V at this point was just showing up. It was roughly around 11pm. We chatted with them a little outside. Nice enough guys, but we just couldn't stick around any longer. We had to hit the road to secure our rooms at the Motel 6. Wish we could have stayed for their set.
We hit the road on our way to San Rafael. Wes was navigating via his phone. And he mentioned a partial toll. We had no idea what that meant. Either there was a toll or there wasn't. What's with the partial thing? Well, there was a toll. $5 for the car and $10 for the truck and trailer.
We finally got to the motel and check in. Of course we decide we needed to go get some beer and food. So we walked up the road to an AM/PM and got the beer part taken care of. Wes decided that Burger King sounded good. The dining room was closed. So Wes decided to try going through the drive through. So on foot he waited in line as Lee and I watched speculating that this would never work. But once again Wes' gift of gab won the day. He managed to get our full order walking up through the drive thru.
It was oddly cold that night as we walked back to the motel. We got back and let Doug, who had hit the hay already, know that we had got him a burger. He came over straight away. Once again as the glamorous rockstars we are sat in our Motel 6 room, eating Whoppers, drinking cheap beer and watching Married With Children. Yup this is the life...
Coming up... Johnny B's in Medford!
adam
WCG
We enjoyed yet another Build Your Own Slam at Denny's and headed back on the road toward Oakland. In the midst of our drive through the 100 degree temperatures there was one small incident. Cruising down the road at 70 mph I was following behind a a pick up with a small trailer. I had the intention of passing him. Doug was following close behind me. As I was just about to get over the truck in front of me moved over too. Right in the middle of the road was a semi tire. I had a small moment of panic and weaved into the left lane, however in the process I managed to hit the horn at the same time. Which brought hours of amusement for Wes who was riding with me on this leg. The panicked swerve and simultaneous beep.
The remainder of the drive was pretty uneventful outside of traffic once we hit Oakland around 5pm. We had got word that it might be an early show. Something like 6 or 7pm. We hustled over to Eli's Mile High Club and found that they were equally confused about start time as we were.
We realized that this is not the best part of Oakland. Eli's is located just outside of the downtown district on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. As we were walking in there was a crazy lady who was yelling about a lot of things just outside the front door of the club. As Wes and I approached she sort directed her yelling in our direction. I looked at Wes and said "I think she just called us faggots." Which she did. Wes replied, "She was yelling long before we got here and probably long after we leave. Chances are we won't be the only ones."
True enough. I saw her across the street later that night still commenting on the sexuality of others.
We talked to the bartender about a near by place to stay and he suggested a place called the Maya Motel. We headed over there to see if we could get a room. It was in what looked to be a decent neighborhood, but it was a motel with weekly rates and only single rooms. We opted to pass. We went down another road that seemed to have a lot of hotels on it. Passing by several who's parking lots weren't very well equipped for the truck and trailer. We stopped to get our bearings as Wes opted to try his phone for a nearby Motel 6. There were a couple pretty close by, but all were booked. While Wes was trying to figure this out Doug was chatting to some fella who happen to be waiting for his bus. The guy's input was that he wouldn't stay anywhere close to that area. By his figuring we would come out in the morning to a truck with no trailer. So that clinched it. 20 miles north in a town called San Rafael was a Motel 6 with plenty of rooms. That was it. Wes called and secured 2 rooms.
We headed back to the club and bellied up to the bar. Happy hour Hamms for a $1.50. Not to shabby. We all grabbed a bite. Some of us made better choices than other in our bar food selection. Wes and Lee opted for the chicken strip basket... Blackened (burnt). We loaded in and set up. At this point none of the other bands were there. The sound guy was and he said he was just filling in for the regular guy. We meandered about until we got an accurate start time. 9pm. The sound guy only had 1 operational mic, so once again we had to put ours to use.
Eli's is an interesting club. Definitely the crustiest of crusty punk clubs. Everyone was really nice though. We sat out on the back patio for awhile. A patio reminiscent of something out of Sanford and Son. Finally the 2 of the other bands showed up. Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings and Death Ray. Still no sign of Death Wish V and not entirely certain whether they were going to show. We had hit the road before I got final confirmation from them.
The original line up for the show was suppose to be Get Dead, Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings and us. Well, Get Dead had to cancel, they had gotten a show here in Seattle with the Cromags. They suggested Death Wish V. I didn't hear anything from them so contacted Tricky Monk to see if they had someone to fill the slot. They said they would get a band they knew called Death Ray. I contacted Death Wish V to see what had happened there and they had no idea what I was talking about. When we left that's what I knew. When we got down there and saw the list Tricky Monk, Death Ray and Death Wish V were all on the bill. I thought well cool. Everything worked out.
Well, we went on and the crowd seemed to like us, but they definitely weren't there for us. The sound guy, not being familiar with the system, struggled all throughout our set. Feedback, mics cutting out and so on. Death Ray went on next and this band was a very strange entity. A large bass cab in between 2 guys playing playing prerecorded drum and bass lines with some synth mixed in. The 2 guys had guitars. They played kind of a pop punk kind of music style. But it seemed more of a parody. I wasn't sure what to make of them. They had bizarre on stage antics, like one of the guys cutting off his clothes with scissors through the song. Then went through there set and they guy who had cut his clothes off was wearing speedos with some sort of apparatus built into it. He then proceed to light his junk on fire and it would act as a weird blowtorch. Not to mention it stank.
Tricky Monk and The Ding Dings went on next. They are very talented band that I guess had relocated to the Bay Area from somewhere back east. Again a relatively pop punk based band with a little more edge to them. They put on a great set. But unfortunately they played a little too long. The door man asked them to wrap things up with their last song and they rolled into 2 or 3 songs which had the door man pissed and yelling and kicking chairs. Made for a very uncomfortable room all of a sudden.
Death Wish V at this point was just showing up. It was roughly around 11pm. We chatted with them a little outside. Nice enough guys, but we just couldn't stick around any longer. We had to hit the road to secure our rooms at the Motel 6. Wish we could have stayed for their set.
We hit the road on our way to San Rafael. Wes was navigating via his phone. And he mentioned a partial toll. We had no idea what that meant. Either there was a toll or there wasn't. What's with the partial thing? Well, there was a toll. $5 for the car and $10 for the truck and trailer.
We finally got to the motel and check in. Of course we decide we needed to go get some beer and food. So we walked up the road to an AM/PM and got the beer part taken care of. Wes decided that Burger King sounded good. The dining room was closed. So Wes decided to try going through the drive through. So on foot he waited in line as Lee and I watched speculating that this would never work. But once again Wes' gift of gab won the day. He managed to get our full order walking up through the drive thru.
It was oddly cold that night as we walked back to the motel. We got back and let Doug, who had hit the hay already, know that we had got him a burger. He came over straight away. Once again as the glamorous rockstars we are sat in our Motel 6 room, eating Whoppers, drinking cheap beer and watching Married With Children. Yup this is the life...
Coming up... Johnny B's in Medford!
adam
WCG
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Full Account... Part 3.
Thursday morning my wife woke me up at 8:30am. Far too early after the excitement of the night before. We walked up to the parking lot behind the Whisky to hit the road towards San Diego to visit my in-laws. Once in the lot we see feet sticking out the window of Doug's truck. Lee had decided to sleep in the truck to put Doug's mind at ease about our gear. Plus he has issues sleeping in a room with as many people as we had at the hotel. He kind of woke up as we got ready to take off in the Toyota.
We made our way through LA morning rush hour to the freeway. Just then my wife told me she was far to tired to drive. Something that honestly irritated me to know end. I was woken up at 8:30 to hit the road and now I have to make the drive. Oi! Anyway, she pulled off and I took over behind the wheel. Hopped in the HOV lane and head on down toward San Diego.
We rolled in around 10:00 and called my father in-law who drove back from his shop to let us inside. We got in and we were both relived to take a shower and a bit of a nap. A little later as I walked over to Starbucks for some coffee I got a call from the other fellas. They told me that they were heading toward Carlsbad and were going to find a beach or park or something to crash out and catch some sleep.
My wife's mother showed up shortly after we got there. She had been picking up my sister in-law at LAX early that morning. She had flown in from Florida to see my wife and the rest of her family. We then all decided some nice rolled tacos from La Posta was a good idea. La Poata is a small taco stand in the Hillcrest neighborhood of San Diego. We got back to the condo with some dozen or so tacos and by that time my father in-law and brother in-law were all back. So we sat back and ate our dinner, which instantly destroyed my stomach. These tacos are what my brother in-law referred to as Mexi-trash. Something that my northwestern stomach is not accustom to. Since they have been eating there for so long they had built up an immunity to Mexi-trash style of cooking.
Around 6:00 or so my wife and I hit the road to get to Hensley's Flying Elephant. Some 45 minutes north of San Diego. It was right off the freeway. It looked like a converted Denny's. Had that token Denny's style architecture. As it turned out it was a very cool bar. Good sized show room. We happened to be the only band playing that night. Which was a good thing. We wanted to go on early and get back on the road early so we could get back north of LA and miss the traffic to head for Oakland the next night.
There's was a fair amount of people there for a Thursday night. A pleasant surprise, because I didn't really expect much anything. We got set up and did our sound check as my wife's family showed up. Her parents, both sisters, her brother and her cousin were all in attendance. Shortly there after much of Lee's family showed up as well.
We went into our set, most of the folks in the bar stayed out in the main bar area. A few trickled into the show room as our set progressed. We played pretty good that night despite the fact we were all pretty tired. There was a small incident of instrument cables before we went on. One of Wes' came up missing. Not entirely sure where it went, but I'm amazed that the only thing that came up missing throughout the entire tour was a cable.
We finished up our set and hopped off stage. Then suddenly a mad rush on merchandise took place. After finishing up all we had left was a hand full of CDs, 1 t-shirt and a few girls tank tops. I was amazed how much we ended up selling that night, just because of the amount of people who stayed outside the showroom. I guess it doesn't mean they weren't listening.
We had our pictures taken with varying family members and Lee started pontificating with my father in law while he drank an obscenely large glass of whisky. We got the gear loaded up. And by this time my wife had decide to stay down in San Diego and fly back on Sunday. So the tour finally took it's first casualty.
So my wife and I said our goodbyes, we all hopped in to the cars. Wes and Doug in his truck and Lee and I in the car. We set out to make it back to Buttonwillow Junction for the night. It was roughly a 3 hour drive to get there. All of tired. It made this leg of the trip rather difficult. Everything was just fine up to the base of the Grapevine.
Before embarking over the Grapevine we stopped for a bathroom break and me downing some more Pepto in order to curb the stomach pain of the Mexi-trash tacos. Lee and Wes opted to partake in some Wendy's chicken nuggets which Lee promptly decided he hated. The horrible stench permeated the car the rest of the way.
We head up the Grapevine. At night this just flat out sucks. The lighting is nonexistent. They had been doing some sort of road construction through much of. They had grated a portion of the roadway as well so lines were impossible to see. Construction cones shutting down two lanes, reflected light back at you making it that much more difficult. Eye a little blurry from exhaustion played tricks on you as you try to gauge the distance of the vehicle in front of you. At one point I had mentioned to Lee that the drive was getting real tough to see anything. A statement that he didn't much want to hear.
Much to our joy we made it out of the Grapevine and hit the flat land of the other side. Which strangely smelled funny. 60 miles or so beyond that point we found ourselves back in Buttonwillow Junction. It was right around 3am. We checked into the same Super 8 we were in before. We had a few beers and bitched about the ridiculous drive that just occurred then made our way to our respective rooms and passed out...
Coming up next... Oakland.
Adam
WCG
We made our way through LA morning rush hour to the freeway. Just then my wife told me she was far to tired to drive. Something that honestly irritated me to know end. I was woken up at 8:30 to hit the road and now I have to make the drive. Oi! Anyway, she pulled off and I took over behind the wheel. Hopped in the HOV lane and head on down toward San Diego.
We rolled in around 10:00 and called my father in-law who drove back from his shop to let us inside. We got in and we were both relived to take a shower and a bit of a nap. A little later as I walked over to Starbucks for some coffee I got a call from the other fellas. They told me that they were heading toward Carlsbad and were going to find a beach or park or something to crash out and catch some sleep.
My wife's mother showed up shortly after we got there. She had been picking up my sister in-law at LAX early that morning. She had flown in from Florida to see my wife and the rest of her family. We then all decided some nice rolled tacos from La Posta was a good idea. La Poata is a small taco stand in the Hillcrest neighborhood of San Diego. We got back to the condo with some dozen or so tacos and by that time my father in-law and brother in-law were all back. So we sat back and ate our dinner, which instantly destroyed my stomach. These tacos are what my brother in-law referred to as Mexi-trash. Something that my northwestern stomach is not accustom to. Since they have been eating there for so long they had built up an immunity to Mexi-trash style of cooking.
Around 6:00 or so my wife and I hit the road to get to Hensley's Flying Elephant. Some 45 minutes north of San Diego. It was right off the freeway. It looked like a converted Denny's. Had that token Denny's style architecture. As it turned out it was a very cool bar. Good sized show room. We happened to be the only band playing that night. Which was a good thing. We wanted to go on early and get back on the road early so we could get back north of LA and miss the traffic to head for Oakland the next night.
There's was a fair amount of people there for a Thursday night. A pleasant surprise, because I didn't really expect much anything. We got set up and did our sound check as my wife's family showed up. Her parents, both sisters, her brother and her cousin were all in attendance. Shortly there after much of Lee's family showed up as well.
We went into our set, most of the folks in the bar stayed out in the main bar area. A few trickled into the show room as our set progressed. We played pretty good that night despite the fact we were all pretty tired. There was a small incident of instrument cables before we went on. One of Wes' came up missing. Not entirely sure where it went, but I'm amazed that the only thing that came up missing throughout the entire tour was a cable.
We finished up our set and hopped off stage. Then suddenly a mad rush on merchandise took place. After finishing up all we had left was a hand full of CDs, 1 t-shirt and a few girls tank tops. I was amazed how much we ended up selling that night, just because of the amount of people who stayed outside the showroom. I guess it doesn't mean they weren't listening.
We had our pictures taken with varying family members and Lee started pontificating with my father in law while he drank an obscenely large glass of whisky. We got the gear loaded up. And by this time my wife had decide to stay down in San Diego and fly back on Sunday. So the tour finally took it's first casualty.
So my wife and I said our goodbyes, we all hopped in to the cars. Wes and Doug in his truck and Lee and I in the car. We set out to make it back to Buttonwillow Junction for the night. It was roughly a 3 hour drive to get there. All of tired. It made this leg of the trip rather difficult. Everything was just fine up to the base of the Grapevine.
Before embarking over the Grapevine we stopped for a bathroom break and me downing some more Pepto in order to curb the stomach pain of the Mexi-trash tacos. Lee and Wes opted to partake in some Wendy's chicken nuggets which Lee promptly decided he hated. The horrible stench permeated the car the rest of the way.
We head up the Grapevine. At night this just flat out sucks. The lighting is nonexistent. They had been doing some sort of road construction through much of. They had grated a portion of the roadway as well so lines were impossible to see. Construction cones shutting down two lanes, reflected light back at you making it that much more difficult. Eye a little blurry from exhaustion played tricks on you as you try to gauge the distance of the vehicle in front of you. At one point I had mentioned to Lee that the drive was getting real tough to see anything. A statement that he didn't much want to hear.
Much to our joy we made it out of the Grapevine and hit the flat land of the other side. Which strangely smelled funny. 60 miles or so beyond that point we found ourselves back in Buttonwillow Junction. It was right around 3am. We checked into the same Super 8 we were in before. We had a few beers and bitched about the ridiculous drive that just occurred then made our way to our respective rooms and passed out...
Coming up next... Oakland.
Adam
WCG
Sunday, August 28, 2011
The Full Account... Part 2.
During that evening in Redding we discussed the "Cloud of Lee." Now let me explain. Lee, for some inexplicable reason, can lose everything. We decided he is much akin to Pig Pen from the old Peanuts comic strip, but instead of dirt, he has a cloud of his own possessions. At any time, one or more of these possessions can be lost. Just sitting in the front seat of my car, he has the ability to lose his lighter, a pack of cigarettes and his cell phone. It's often times quite comical. I think throughout the trip he lost and bought 4 to 5 lighters. He almost lost his wallet in a Walmart parking lot. Luckily for him a nice woman saw him drop it and handed it back to him. Which made us wonder where he stores his wallet. The best theory was on his head.
Anyway, after leaving the casino/card room we went to the liquor store to get some supplies. You know; pork rinds, pint of Jim Beam and a half rack of beer. As we walked in we heard the strangest noise. It sounded like a fat guy with sleep apnea. Come to find out it was just a very hot and fat bulldog guided by his master on a skateboard.
We got back to the hotel. We had 2 adjoining rooms. We took a peak in on Doug, who was sound asleep. We had a few more beers in the other room while Wes enjoyed his pork rinds and Lee his Jim Beam. Just then we heard an odd chirping noise. Chirp.... Chirp... Chirp.... The fire alarm battery was going out. So I grabbed a chair and hopped up there to pull out the battery. I pulled the whole alarm down and monkeyed with it for awhile to figure out how to get the battery out. Finally figuring it out Wes decided we needed to notify the front desk. He and I walked down to the office. We looked through the window and no one was manning the counter. Then as we got closer to the door we noticed the night attendant sound asleep on the couch in the lobby. We walked in and stared at him for a short time. Kind of wondering what our next action was going to be. Wes looked over to the counter and saw a bell. He walked over there as I stood there kind of shocked that this was actually going to take place. Wes' hand hovered over the bell as he buried his head in the crook of his arm. His finger came down on the bell twice. The night attendant flailed a bit and hopped up all flustered and wiping sleep out of his eyes. Then one of the strangest conversations took place:
Night attendant: "How can I help you?"
Wes: "Hey man, sorry to wake you. I'm not trying to give you hard time or look for a discount or something. We just wanted to let you know the batteries in this fire alarm are going out. You know what happens when the batteries in these things go out?"
Me: "Chirp... Chirp... Chirp..."
Wes: "They chirp."
Me: "Chirp... Chirp... Chirp..."
Wes: "We just wanted to let you know in case there's a fire or something that we get a free room when we burn."
Night Attendant: "Oh ok."
Wes: "Sorry we had to wake you, you can go back to sleep now."
Me: "You were awfully cute sleeping away."
For some reason I was embodied by Flavor Flav during that interaction.
The next morning we enjoyed a nice breakfast at Denny's and set out again on our southern journey. Another day of solid driving and weird conversations and Lee losing everything on his person. Not to mention spilling peanuts all over the front floor boards.
At one point we had to stop for a bathroom break. Doug and Wes were carrying on in the truck. We figured we would catch up with no problem. It took us literally 150 miles to catch up. Which seemed strange. Doug wasn't going to fast and I was doing 80. But we finally caught up right around the town of Lost Hills (The town where James Dean died.) We were texting and calling back and forth. Lee was on the phone with Wes as we tried to figure out where they were. He was getting frustrated trying to figure out any discernible landmarks or mile markers as to their location. At one point he hung up on Wes. Then promptly called them back as they said there was a bumper to watch out for. So I'm looking all over the side of the road for this bumper as a land mark. Then realizing he meant it was in the middle of the freeway. Everyone swerving willy nilly. I know this probably unhinged Doug a bit trying to navigate the truck and trailer around this bumper. We got off at the next exit. A town called Buttonwillow Junction. Located about 60 miles north of the Grapevine. We pulled into the Super 8. Wes and Doug got a room together. Lee wanted his own room for the night. My wife and I had our own. The edge everyone was feeling from the rough drive and bumper incident was fading a bit. Through our weird conversations we had determined that Lee's new rock name was to be Randy Cooch. I'm not exactly how we came to that. I think it transpired over the coarse of 300 miles.
We were all pretty hungry. My wife and I headed across the street to the TA truck stop. It had a Taco Bell inside. We decided to order a 12 pack of tacos. We took that back to Wes and Doug's room. We sat and watched some Family Guy eating tacos and Top Ramen. We had noticed when we first got to Wes and Doug's room a litany of beer cans and cigarette butts sitting on top of the AC outside. There were few guys just sort of sitting around drinking. We weren't to sure what their deal was. A bunch of guys just partying? Who knows. We had a few beers in the room then went outside to have a smoke. Wes and I got to talking to the guys outside. Come to find out they were seismic drillers out of Canada. They were staying in the area for some 20 more days working up at Lost Hills. For the rest of the night we sat there talking and drinking with these guys. They found out we were in a band touring and playing the Whisky the following night and they were all pretty excited. They bought a bunch of t-shirts and CDs. They had us autograph pretty much everything. Lee retired to his room having some paper work to get done and my wife went back to our to watch the season finale of Master Chef.
Lee came back and made token appearance to sign some autographs. My wife came back after awhile as well after the show was over. Doug made her stop talking about the show because he had DVRed the show at home and wanted to watch it when he got back.
After a couple beer runs across the street to the TA, the night came to a close. We woke up the next morning and enjoyed yet another breakfast at Denny's and headed back out. We hit the Grapevine around 1:00 or so. Doug was having a tough time will his truck up the hill loaded down with all our gear. We buzzed up in the Toyota to a gas station near the top and waited. Doug had to pull over at one point to keep from overheating. Considering at that time the temperature was skirting with cracking 100 degrees, I'm not entirely surprised that he was running hot. He finally rejoined us near the top as we crested the hill into San Fernando Valley. The smog was pretty thick that day. You could just see the haze down in the valley. We ran down the hill and then in to LA. After a few off ramps and freeway swaps we found our way to Hollywood. Passing by Grauman's Chinese Theater and all the characters out front. We finally hit Sunset. We head on down towards the Whisky. We stopped at the light just before it and Lee points to the marque. White City Graves playing tonight! What an awesome sight!
We turned up San Vicente Blvd to find parking. There was a sign that said Whisky parking. It was a squirrely little lot that I'm surprised Doug was able to weasel that trailer up into. The attendant wanted $40 for us to park there. We thought that was a little pricey. So we walked over to The Whisky to see where we should park. We left Doug as collateral that we would be right back. We went and talked to the club and they told us to park on the back side of the club. So we all moved our vehicles over there. In the end we still ended up paying $40 to park. We still had a few hours before we had to load in. So we plopped ourselves down at Duke's next door. We grabbed something to drink while we waited. Finally we came to load in time. My wife at this point was rather cranky because of the hotel prices in the area and lack of availability. She didn't want to burden Wes and his wife and her cousins by crashing on their floor at the Hotel London. But it was looking like we had little choice.
We loaded in our gear and did some quick guitar fixes. My wife went for a walk and to do a little shopping to calm herself down. We did our sound check and I have to give credit to the Whisky staff. They are true pros. 2 guys manning the sound. 1 dedicated to the monitors and stage sound. The other dedicated to the house sound. It's one of the few times that I could hear everything from the stage. We finished up and pushed everything toward the back of the stage. Grabbed our guitars and took them up to our dressing room. Yes we had a dressing room.
I met back up with my wife who wanted to see if we could drive to the outskirts and see if we could find a hotel. But once again the cheapest we could find was $350 for the night. Little too pricey. We went back to the club admitting defeat and realizing we were floor bound. We met back up at Duke's again where we grabbed a bite to eat. A delicious Monte Cristo.
After eating my wife and I headed up to our dressing room. She wanted to change and wash up a bit. While she was doing that the singer for the band Vette was warming up. They were on right before us. She had the strangest warm up method I had ever heard. "By by by BY. Guy guy guy GUY." and so on. My wife finished up and we headed back down stairs to watch the opener.
The open was this girl who was doing a solo singing act. She had kind of an airy sound like Enya or Bjork. Something along those lines. She ran through her set as the crowd looked on. She came to her last song, "Lipstick, Jewels and High Heeled Shoes." A line that she repeat several times throughout the song. Then at the end of the song the music stops and she says it one more time and starts laughing then in a man's voice she says, "You know you love them." Everyone in the audience was beside themselves. She was actually a he! None of us had any idea.
Vette then went on and they played their brand of what would be best described as bubble gum punk. Female fronted local LA band that, vocally, reminded me a little of the band Aqua. The ones who did that Barbie Girl song. Just with more guitars. They played a good set.
We were up next. I gotta say I was pretty nervous. I don't usually get that nervous before a show. But this time I was pretty worked up. We got set up and they shut down the house lights. It was completely dark. Wes started into the intro and I realized that to start that intro I have a long slide. I can't see my hands at all. A little bit of panic ran through me thinking I was going to screw up right out of the gate. Luckily after playing it enough times, muscle memory kicks in and you just go. We started off a little rocky. I'm sure nerves were in play for all of us. You just think about the people who have played that same stage and it's pretty daunting. We pulled ourselves together and ended up playing one of the best sets ever. People were really diggin it. Even the sound guys. That surprised me because, well they hear hundreds, if not thousands of bands. One of the sound guys actually told us we need to move to LA. He said that we would kill down there.
We played great. Not to brag or anything like that. But the way we played I would have paid to go see us that night. The only real glitch was my mic came unplugged during the last line of Anger. Other than that a true balls to the wall 30 minute set.
We got off stage and loaded out our gear and were immediately mobbed outside by bunches of folks. Some we knew, some we didn't. Folks wanting pictures with us and so on. Later I would ask Wes if he thought people driving by thought we were famous or something because of all the cameras. We got everything loaded back in the trailer and went back in to hear the rest of the music. All the while my wife making a killing on selling merch.
There were 4 more acts after us. The guys right after us were along the lines of more straight laced rock. Then a more blues oriented band, after them was just a guy and girl who apparently were suppose to be there with their whole band. But their band disintegrated in the middle of their tour. They were the only ones left. They just did 2 songs. Then the headliner. A band call The Product. They were originally from Hawaii and had recently transplanted themselves to LA. They played very heavy handed reggae mixed with rock. They were really good. I guess their next stop was heading up here to play Hemp Fest here in Seattle. An oddly perfect band for that kind of venue.
The Whisky actually closes down really early. 11pm. So we were wondering what to do with ourselves then. We didn't want to have to pay a $12 cover to get into the Viper Room, The Rainbow or The Roxy. So we walked on down Sunset looking for something open. A lot of the strip really closes down early. At first we got a table at Mel's Diner. But all of us agreed we didn't really want to sit there and pay $9 for a Budweiser. So we ventured further on down. Lee, Doug, my wife and I found ourselves at the Comedy Store. Since it was late they weren't charging a cover to get in. We went and sat down, ordered a few drinks. I ordered gin and tonic, which I think was a poor choice considering how I felt the next day. We all sat off to the side in a dark corner. The comedian that was on noticed us. He commented that we looked like we were in a band. Everyone laughed at us. Then he started asking us questions. Imagine his joy when he found out we were indeed a band. That really opened a can of worms. He then asked us what we were doing there. We all replied that we were on tour and just played the Whisky. He then clarified by asking what we were doing at The Comedy Store at midnight. Our response was it's the only thing open. From then on every comedian that went up took their shots at us. Calling us Incubus, saying that we know a lot about hookers and blow and so on. It was awesome! Very funny!
We stuck around for 4 or 5 comedians. Then one went on and started to bomb. We decide to leave. We went back to the hotel London. Wes and his wife were still up, but her cousins were out. We stayed up for a little while chatting and watching the drama unfold down below on the strip from the balcony. Police, homeless guy and some random drunk hooker. Good times. Shortly after that we all crashed. My wife and Doug were on the L shaped couch and I got the floor. I only had my shirt as a blanket. Comfy.
That's all for part 2... San Diego and Carlsbad coming soon!
Anyway, after leaving the casino/card room we went to the liquor store to get some supplies. You know; pork rinds, pint of Jim Beam and a half rack of beer. As we walked in we heard the strangest noise. It sounded like a fat guy with sleep apnea. Come to find out it was just a very hot and fat bulldog guided by his master on a skateboard.
We got back to the hotel. We had 2 adjoining rooms. We took a peak in on Doug, who was sound asleep. We had a few more beers in the other room while Wes enjoyed his pork rinds and Lee his Jim Beam. Just then we heard an odd chirping noise. Chirp.... Chirp... Chirp.... The fire alarm battery was going out. So I grabbed a chair and hopped up there to pull out the battery. I pulled the whole alarm down and monkeyed with it for awhile to figure out how to get the battery out. Finally figuring it out Wes decided we needed to notify the front desk. He and I walked down to the office. We looked through the window and no one was manning the counter. Then as we got closer to the door we noticed the night attendant sound asleep on the couch in the lobby. We walked in and stared at him for a short time. Kind of wondering what our next action was going to be. Wes looked over to the counter and saw a bell. He walked over there as I stood there kind of shocked that this was actually going to take place. Wes' hand hovered over the bell as he buried his head in the crook of his arm. His finger came down on the bell twice. The night attendant flailed a bit and hopped up all flustered and wiping sleep out of his eyes. Then one of the strangest conversations took place:
Night attendant: "How can I help you?"
Wes: "Hey man, sorry to wake you. I'm not trying to give you hard time or look for a discount or something. We just wanted to let you know the batteries in this fire alarm are going out. You know what happens when the batteries in these things go out?"
Me: "Chirp... Chirp... Chirp..."
Wes: "They chirp."
Me: "Chirp... Chirp... Chirp..."
Wes: "We just wanted to let you know in case there's a fire or something that we get a free room when we burn."
Night Attendant: "Oh ok."
Wes: "Sorry we had to wake you, you can go back to sleep now."
Me: "You were awfully cute sleeping away."
For some reason I was embodied by Flavor Flav during that interaction.
The next morning we enjoyed a nice breakfast at Denny's and set out again on our southern journey. Another day of solid driving and weird conversations and Lee losing everything on his person. Not to mention spilling peanuts all over the front floor boards.
At one point we had to stop for a bathroom break. Doug and Wes were carrying on in the truck. We figured we would catch up with no problem. It took us literally 150 miles to catch up. Which seemed strange. Doug wasn't going to fast and I was doing 80. But we finally caught up right around the town of Lost Hills (The town where James Dean died.) We were texting and calling back and forth. Lee was on the phone with Wes as we tried to figure out where they were. He was getting frustrated trying to figure out any discernible landmarks or mile markers as to their location. At one point he hung up on Wes. Then promptly called them back as they said there was a bumper to watch out for. So I'm looking all over the side of the road for this bumper as a land mark. Then realizing he meant it was in the middle of the freeway. Everyone swerving willy nilly. I know this probably unhinged Doug a bit trying to navigate the truck and trailer around this bumper. We got off at the next exit. A town called Buttonwillow Junction. Located about 60 miles north of the Grapevine. We pulled into the Super 8. Wes and Doug got a room together. Lee wanted his own room for the night. My wife and I had our own. The edge everyone was feeling from the rough drive and bumper incident was fading a bit. Through our weird conversations we had determined that Lee's new rock name was to be Randy Cooch. I'm not exactly how we came to that. I think it transpired over the coarse of 300 miles.
We were all pretty hungry. My wife and I headed across the street to the TA truck stop. It had a Taco Bell inside. We decided to order a 12 pack of tacos. We took that back to Wes and Doug's room. We sat and watched some Family Guy eating tacos and Top Ramen. We had noticed when we first got to Wes and Doug's room a litany of beer cans and cigarette butts sitting on top of the AC outside. There were few guys just sort of sitting around drinking. We weren't to sure what their deal was. A bunch of guys just partying? Who knows. We had a few beers in the room then went outside to have a smoke. Wes and I got to talking to the guys outside. Come to find out they were seismic drillers out of Canada. They were staying in the area for some 20 more days working up at Lost Hills. For the rest of the night we sat there talking and drinking with these guys. They found out we were in a band touring and playing the Whisky the following night and they were all pretty excited. They bought a bunch of t-shirts and CDs. They had us autograph pretty much everything. Lee retired to his room having some paper work to get done and my wife went back to our to watch the season finale of Master Chef.
Lee came back and made token appearance to sign some autographs. My wife came back after awhile as well after the show was over. Doug made her stop talking about the show because he had DVRed the show at home and wanted to watch it when he got back.
After a couple beer runs across the street to the TA, the night came to a close. We woke up the next morning and enjoyed yet another breakfast at Denny's and headed back out. We hit the Grapevine around 1:00 or so. Doug was having a tough time will his truck up the hill loaded down with all our gear. We buzzed up in the Toyota to a gas station near the top and waited. Doug had to pull over at one point to keep from overheating. Considering at that time the temperature was skirting with cracking 100 degrees, I'm not entirely surprised that he was running hot. He finally rejoined us near the top as we crested the hill into San Fernando Valley. The smog was pretty thick that day. You could just see the haze down in the valley. We ran down the hill and then in to LA. After a few off ramps and freeway swaps we found our way to Hollywood. Passing by Grauman's Chinese Theater and all the characters out front. We finally hit Sunset. We head on down towards the Whisky. We stopped at the light just before it and Lee points to the marque. White City Graves playing tonight! What an awesome sight!
We turned up San Vicente Blvd to find parking. There was a sign that said Whisky parking. It was a squirrely little lot that I'm surprised Doug was able to weasel that trailer up into. The attendant wanted $40 for us to park there. We thought that was a little pricey. So we walked over to The Whisky to see where we should park. We left Doug as collateral that we would be right back. We went and talked to the club and they told us to park on the back side of the club. So we all moved our vehicles over there. In the end we still ended up paying $40 to park. We still had a few hours before we had to load in. So we plopped ourselves down at Duke's next door. We grabbed something to drink while we waited. Finally we came to load in time. My wife at this point was rather cranky because of the hotel prices in the area and lack of availability. She didn't want to burden Wes and his wife and her cousins by crashing on their floor at the Hotel London. But it was looking like we had little choice.
We loaded in our gear and did some quick guitar fixes. My wife went for a walk and to do a little shopping to calm herself down. We did our sound check and I have to give credit to the Whisky staff. They are true pros. 2 guys manning the sound. 1 dedicated to the monitors and stage sound. The other dedicated to the house sound. It's one of the few times that I could hear everything from the stage. We finished up and pushed everything toward the back of the stage. Grabbed our guitars and took them up to our dressing room. Yes we had a dressing room.
I met back up with my wife who wanted to see if we could drive to the outskirts and see if we could find a hotel. But once again the cheapest we could find was $350 for the night. Little too pricey. We went back to the club admitting defeat and realizing we were floor bound. We met back up at Duke's again where we grabbed a bite to eat. A delicious Monte Cristo.
After eating my wife and I headed up to our dressing room. She wanted to change and wash up a bit. While she was doing that the singer for the band Vette was warming up. They were on right before us. She had the strangest warm up method I had ever heard. "By by by BY. Guy guy guy GUY." and so on. My wife finished up and we headed back down stairs to watch the opener.
The open was this girl who was doing a solo singing act. She had kind of an airy sound like Enya or Bjork. Something along those lines. She ran through her set as the crowd looked on. She came to her last song, "Lipstick, Jewels and High Heeled Shoes." A line that she repeat several times throughout the song. Then at the end of the song the music stops and she says it one more time and starts laughing then in a man's voice she says, "You know you love them." Everyone in the audience was beside themselves. She was actually a he! None of us had any idea.
Vette then went on and they played their brand of what would be best described as bubble gum punk. Female fronted local LA band that, vocally, reminded me a little of the band Aqua. The ones who did that Barbie Girl song. Just with more guitars. They played a good set.
We were up next. I gotta say I was pretty nervous. I don't usually get that nervous before a show. But this time I was pretty worked up. We got set up and they shut down the house lights. It was completely dark. Wes started into the intro and I realized that to start that intro I have a long slide. I can't see my hands at all. A little bit of panic ran through me thinking I was going to screw up right out of the gate. Luckily after playing it enough times, muscle memory kicks in and you just go. We started off a little rocky. I'm sure nerves were in play for all of us. You just think about the people who have played that same stage and it's pretty daunting. We pulled ourselves together and ended up playing one of the best sets ever. People were really diggin it. Even the sound guys. That surprised me because, well they hear hundreds, if not thousands of bands. One of the sound guys actually told us we need to move to LA. He said that we would kill down there.
We played great. Not to brag or anything like that. But the way we played I would have paid to go see us that night. The only real glitch was my mic came unplugged during the last line of Anger. Other than that a true balls to the wall 30 minute set.
We got off stage and loaded out our gear and were immediately mobbed outside by bunches of folks. Some we knew, some we didn't. Folks wanting pictures with us and so on. Later I would ask Wes if he thought people driving by thought we were famous or something because of all the cameras. We got everything loaded back in the trailer and went back in to hear the rest of the music. All the while my wife making a killing on selling merch.
There were 4 more acts after us. The guys right after us were along the lines of more straight laced rock. Then a more blues oriented band, after them was just a guy and girl who apparently were suppose to be there with their whole band. But their band disintegrated in the middle of their tour. They were the only ones left. They just did 2 songs. Then the headliner. A band call The Product. They were originally from Hawaii and had recently transplanted themselves to LA. They played very heavy handed reggae mixed with rock. They were really good. I guess their next stop was heading up here to play Hemp Fest here in Seattle. An oddly perfect band for that kind of venue.
The Whisky actually closes down really early. 11pm. So we were wondering what to do with ourselves then. We didn't want to have to pay a $12 cover to get into the Viper Room, The Rainbow or The Roxy. So we walked on down Sunset looking for something open. A lot of the strip really closes down early. At first we got a table at Mel's Diner. But all of us agreed we didn't really want to sit there and pay $9 for a Budweiser. So we ventured further on down. Lee, Doug, my wife and I found ourselves at the Comedy Store. Since it was late they weren't charging a cover to get in. We went and sat down, ordered a few drinks. I ordered gin and tonic, which I think was a poor choice considering how I felt the next day. We all sat off to the side in a dark corner. The comedian that was on noticed us. He commented that we looked like we were in a band. Everyone laughed at us. Then he started asking us questions. Imagine his joy when he found out we were indeed a band. That really opened a can of worms. He then asked us what we were doing there. We all replied that we were on tour and just played the Whisky. He then clarified by asking what we were doing at The Comedy Store at midnight. Our response was it's the only thing open. From then on every comedian that went up took their shots at us. Calling us Incubus, saying that we know a lot about hookers and blow and so on. It was awesome! Very funny!
We stuck around for 4 or 5 comedians. Then one went on and started to bomb. We decide to leave. We went back to the hotel London. Wes and his wife were still up, but her cousins were out. We stayed up for a little while chatting and watching the drama unfold down below on the strip from the balcony. Police, homeless guy and some random drunk hooker. Good times. Shortly after that we all crashed. My wife and Doug were on the L shaped couch and I got the floor. I only had my shirt as a blanket. Comfy.
That's all for part 2... San Diego and Carlsbad coming soon!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
A full account... Part 1...
Now that about a week has gone by since we got back from our tour it's time to account for what actually happened. I have to write it all down while it's still some what fresh in my head, because it was kind of a blur.
I will try and be as accurate as possible, but the days do kind of fade into one another and this is just from my perspective. The other fellas may have a different take on how things unfolded.
We'll start off with the tour kick off show. The Victory Lounge. Although it's a small club, we kind of wanted to keep it that way so it had more of a party atmosphere. A Sic End was on the bill and they played a great set. Looking forward to playing with them on their tour finale. During their set however, there was an interesting back drop. Out on the deck there was a guy making out with some girl. I have no idea who these people were. Well, when the guy took a break to come up for air he was approached by some other girl. The other girl started yelling at the guy. This argument seemed to move all over the bar. Then eventually out front during A Sic End's set. So as we watched them play behind them through the window was this couple arguing and the girl was very animated in making her point. Arms waiving akimbo and what not. It made for a really weird back drop for their set.
Anyway, we went on and play. The energy of the room was awesome. Whenever there's a good energy in the room we always tend to play better and with a lot more energy ourselves. It always makes it a lot more fun. We played pretty much every song we knew. We wound up our set and all those in attendance were nice enough to wish us well and help out with buying merch so we had a few bucks in gas to make the next show. We appreciate all the support from our home town fans. Couldn't have asked for a better kick off.
The following day, we all were busy getting our ducks in a row. Making sure our respective dogs were looked after and so on. We met up at the studio around 4:30, loaded gear and started our trek on down the I5 corridor. First stop... The Agenda in Portland. It was a strange club. From the outside it looked like a very nondescript kind of random bar. Something that your would find here in Seattle somewhere on Aurora. It was situated next to a Chinese restaurant called, and I'm not kidding here, Hung Far Low. As we walked in we realized the place is actually really nice inside. Not the dive bar we had anticipated. We hung out for awhile. Wes and Doug shot a few games of pool. Lee made a friend in some old fella out on the back patio who seemed to know the entire history of the area. My wife and I wander back and forth between the 2. The other band showed up after awhile. Go Ballistic. Great name. We worked out the details of who would play first. We decided to go first since it was just the 2 bands and we had no draw to speak of. We hung out for awhile longer, trying to hold out for a few more folks to show up. Suddenly a slough of people showed up all at once. They were all dressed really strange. Like they were running with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. Seriously, red sashes and all. Come to find out this was a pub crawl heading through the area. We rapidly set up and started to play. This way we would have a crowd through half our set. Now the down side of The Agenda... Their PA is pretty sad. It wasn't made to deal with the shear volume of us. It would cut out and distort. Oh and club only had 1 mic. Luckily we had packed all of our own. The pub crawlers, however, seemed to enjoy us. Forming a small pit. The only down side to this hap hazard pit, was one of them slammed into my mic stand and left a welt on my lip that plagued me most of the week. The group took off about half way through our set. We finished up for the small crowd that remained behind. Go Ballistic went on and they have their own brand of rock. Falling somewhere in between psychobilly, country and metal. It was a very cool sound. That brings us to the drummer. The guy was amazing to watch. He looked a bit like a robot playing, but he was still really animate at the same time. A very difficult style to describe. Lee noted that it was a bit like Kieth Moon.
We finished up at The Agenda. Our first road show under our belt. We were going to stay with Wes' sister in law at her house. She was nice enough to put us up for a couple of nights, which was awesome of her. It's a lot to ask someone to put up with four smelly guys and my wife. But her and her husband were more than welcoming. We went out that same night to a small bar around the corner from their house called The Lion's Eye. It was a nice relaxing joint that served us up some food and Old German beer. We all drank far too much that night. Including my wife who decided the best plan for her was to challenge the entire bar in pool. Which in doing so she proclaimed, "I WILL BE VICTORY!" Which coined the term for the entire tour. "I AM VICTORY." Which she desperately wishes now that she did not say. Especially since she proceeded to get her ass kicked the following game. Shortly there after we stumbled back to the house. We all passed out and woke up the next day feeling rough. Well, with the exception of Doug who inexplicably kept waking up at the crack of dawn.
That day my wife, Lee and I set out on a trek to visit my grandmother who lives in Tigard (a town just outside of Portland). Wes and Doug stuck around at the house. Doug was taking a nap and Wes was watching golf. We stopped for a bite first at a place called Cartlandia. It was a large parking lot full of food carts. I had a cat fish po' boy which was stellar. Lee decide he just wanted a few pieces of cat fish which the guy at the southern cooking cart couldn't seem to understand why. It became quite an ordeal just to get a few pieces of cat fish and some sauce. It really seemed to throw the cook for a loop. Then he also ordered a taco from another truck as well. My wife just stuck with the tacos. From there we went on to visit my grandmother, who in her 90s, was still pretty coherent even though I had heard stories to the opposite. But she didn't entirely grasp what kind of music we played. She kept referring to the big band era and dances she use to go to. Then went on to call us a bunch "dingies."
That evening we went for dinner at Foster Burger, the place where Wes' sister in law works. It's gourmet burger joint and the food was great. Although squid ink for dipping sauce for your fries was a little off putting. Especially with a hangover. Although very tasty it probably wasn't the best pre-show meal. We headed over to the Red Room for the show. For myself personally, we couldn't have gotten there soon enough. Hair of the dog and all.
We were set to play first, followed by Flexx Bronco and then The Altarboys. We went on and the sound issues that plagued us the night before were gone. The sound was great. Wes was having a few issues with trying not to puke on stage and was later told he looked like "hammered shit." We finished out our set and played surprisingly well considering the shape of everyone. Personally I felt much better once we were done.
Flexx Bronco went on and played their set and did a great job. At one point their guitarist sang one song and opted to do a stage dive into the sparse crowd. They grabbed him and lifted him. Pinning him up against the low ceiling, which was just hilarious. He didn't miss a note singing though. Has to be commended for that one. Not to mention the ceiling of the Red Room is not the smoothest of things. Kind of a stucco, rough, jagged texture to it.
The Altarboys came up next. This is an interesting band. They play 1 show a year. It's whenever their singer comes back to visit from Amsterdam. They ran through a couple songs and I was hooked. Wes, in his unfortunate condition, had to leave a bit early. So all but Lee, my wife and myself were left. We watched the Altarboys put on a great set. Just wish they played more often. I would love to play with these guys again!
The show let out and we all headed back to the house. Most everyone was asleep or watching Lord Of The Rings. Lee, Wes' sister in law and I sat out on the porch chatting for a couple more hours. I opted to sleep in the room Lee was in as not to disturb everyone in the main living room. I started reading a book. I got 1 page in and promptly fell asleep. At some point in the night I started sleep walking. Apparently searching for the bathroom. Lord knows how long I wandered around our room, but I was told I did step all over Lee. I made my way out and almost went into Wes' sister in law and her husbands room. Thankfully my wife woke me up just before my entrance. That could have been disastrous... On my return I fell back asleep in the living room again. Only to wake up the next morning and seeing Doug, awake early again, staring at me.
We all proceeded to roll out of bed, some easier than others. Got packed up and headed back out on the road. We didn't have another show for 2 days. Those days were dedicated to solid driving. We had 2 cars. Doug's truck with a UHaul trailer and my little Toyota. Lee rode with my wife and I through this leg. Which created hours of silence with everyone napping to the strange conversations of movies and arguments over which mountain is which. At one point we stopped at a rest stop for a bite and stretch. Doug pulled out a football. We played a little catch and I realized I throw a football like one would a baseball and the result just looks idiotic. We managed to get to Redding that night.
The town of Redding kind of sucks on a Monday night. Doug opted to stay behind and get to sleep early. The rest of us set out to find a bar. We were staying at the Vagabond in that night. All the Motel 6s were booked solid, which seemed weird. We thought we'd just go to the Denny's in the same parking lot as the hotel and hang out in their lounge. This particular Denny's had no lounge. We asked the advice of a waitress as to where to go. She said the bowling alley. So we walked over that direction, only to find the bowling alley was closed. Across the street however, was a video arcade that was also a partial bar. We went there and played a few games and had a beer. The problem was we get there at 11:30pm and they closed at 12. So dejected again we went back on the search. We asked the employees of the arcade as to the where abouts of a decent watering hole. The guy, which we don't know his real name, but Wes decide he looked like a Derek so that shall be his name from now on... Derek. Derek named off several different places. We didn't find any of them. We even tried the Red Lion lobby bar, closed. We came across a casino/card room. It had a separate bar with karaoke going. Seemed as good place as any. We walked in and sat down. Wes ran off to the bathroom. We order and strangely Wes hadn't come back. After about 10 or 15 minutes. He finally came back and told a heroing tale of being locked in the bathroom. This is how he told it. I'm par phrasing of course, Wes' depiction was far more animated.
He went to the bathroom and noticed a guy at the urinal. Being a small bathroom Wes figured he would use the stall to give the guy his space. The guy finished up and washed his hands and walked out. Wes finished up and went to do the same. He reach for the door handle and pulled and it just would not open. He thought to himself maybe it's a sticky door and just lift up on it. Nothing still. He noticed kick marks at the bottom of the door. Tried to follow suit there as well, but to no avail. He thought to give me a call, but he left his cell in the hotel room. He took a step back to assess the situation before letting panic set in. He took a look around and noticed the tiling on the floor ran a different direction. He then took a peak around the corner and low and behold... The actual door. On which he exited with no problems what so ever. Wes was attempting to break into the janitor's closet. From then on he was still a little mad at the guy for locking him in. Unwarranted of course. But as we sat out on the patio, he pointed him out as the guy that locked him in the bathroom.
Later in the evening we ran into this fella again in the bathroom. Wes told the guy the same story of trying to get out through the janitor's closet. The guy responded that he had tried the same thing many times before.
Before we left this interesting little casino, we had to take a peak at the card room. I have never witnessed a place more unnerving. All that could be heard was the buzz from the neon lights overhead. The were many tables, but only one was occupied. Surrounded by several men playing poker, they all looked as if they were part of the Russian mafia. Once setting foot in that card room they all stopped and peered in our direction. The decision to leave promptly followed.
That's enough for one day... I'll post more later on. Coming soon... Tales of Buttonwillow Junction, The Whisky, Carlsbad and much more.
adam
WCG
I will try and be as accurate as possible, but the days do kind of fade into one another and this is just from my perspective. The other fellas may have a different take on how things unfolded.
We'll start off with the tour kick off show. The Victory Lounge. Although it's a small club, we kind of wanted to keep it that way so it had more of a party atmosphere. A Sic End was on the bill and they played a great set. Looking forward to playing with them on their tour finale. During their set however, there was an interesting back drop. Out on the deck there was a guy making out with some girl. I have no idea who these people were. Well, when the guy took a break to come up for air he was approached by some other girl. The other girl started yelling at the guy. This argument seemed to move all over the bar. Then eventually out front during A Sic End's set. So as we watched them play behind them through the window was this couple arguing and the girl was very animated in making her point. Arms waiving akimbo and what not. It made for a really weird back drop for their set.
Anyway, we went on and play. The energy of the room was awesome. Whenever there's a good energy in the room we always tend to play better and with a lot more energy ourselves. It always makes it a lot more fun. We played pretty much every song we knew. We wound up our set and all those in attendance were nice enough to wish us well and help out with buying merch so we had a few bucks in gas to make the next show. We appreciate all the support from our home town fans. Couldn't have asked for a better kick off.
The following day, we all were busy getting our ducks in a row. Making sure our respective dogs were looked after and so on. We met up at the studio around 4:30, loaded gear and started our trek on down the I5 corridor. First stop... The Agenda in Portland. It was a strange club. From the outside it looked like a very nondescript kind of random bar. Something that your would find here in Seattle somewhere on Aurora. It was situated next to a Chinese restaurant called, and I'm not kidding here, Hung Far Low. As we walked in we realized the place is actually really nice inside. Not the dive bar we had anticipated. We hung out for awhile. Wes and Doug shot a few games of pool. Lee made a friend in some old fella out on the back patio who seemed to know the entire history of the area. My wife and I wander back and forth between the 2. The other band showed up after awhile. Go Ballistic. Great name. We worked out the details of who would play first. We decided to go first since it was just the 2 bands and we had no draw to speak of. We hung out for awhile longer, trying to hold out for a few more folks to show up. Suddenly a slough of people showed up all at once. They were all dressed really strange. Like they were running with the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. Seriously, red sashes and all. Come to find out this was a pub crawl heading through the area. We rapidly set up and started to play. This way we would have a crowd through half our set. Now the down side of The Agenda... Their PA is pretty sad. It wasn't made to deal with the shear volume of us. It would cut out and distort. Oh and club only had 1 mic. Luckily we had packed all of our own. The pub crawlers, however, seemed to enjoy us. Forming a small pit. The only down side to this hap hazard pit, was one of them slammed into my mic stand and left a welt on my lip that plagued me most of the week. The group took off about half way through our set. We finished up for the small crowd that remained behind. Go Ballistic went on and they have their own brand of rock. Falling somewhere in between psychobilly, country and metal. It was a very cool sound. That brings us to the drummer. The guy was amazing to watch. He looked a bit like a robot playing, but he was still really animate at the same time. A very difficult style to describe. Lee noted that it was a bit like Kieth Moon.
We finished up at The Agenda. Our first road show under our belt. We were going to stay with Wes' sister in law at her house. She was nice enough to put us up for a couple of nights, which was awesome of her. It's a lot to ask someone to put up with four smelly guys and my wife. But her and her husband were more than welcoming. We went out that same night to a small bar around the corner from their house called The Lion's Eye. It was a nice relaxing joint that served us up some food and Old German beer. We all drank far too much that night. Including my wife who decided the best plan for her was to challenge the entire bar in pool. Which in doing so she proclaimed, "I WILL BE VICTORY!" Which coined the term for the entire tour. "I AM VICTORY." Which she desperately wishes now that she did not say. Especially since she proceeded to get her ass kicked the following game. Shortly there after we stumbled back to the house. We all passed out and woke up the next day feeling rough. Well, with the exception of Doug who inexplicably kept waking up at the crack of dawn.
That day my wife, Lee and I set out on a trek to visit my grandmother who lives in Tigard (a town just outside of Portland). Wes and Doug stuck around at the house. Doug was taking a nap and Wes was watching golf. We stopped for a bite first at a place called Cartlandia. It was a large parking lot full of food carts. I had a cat fish po' boy which was stellar. Lee decide he just wanted a few pieces of cat fish which the guy at the southern cooking cart couldn't seem to understand why. It became quite an ordeal just to get a few pieces of cat fish and some sauce. It really seemed to throw the cook for a loop. Then he also ordered a taco from another truck as well. My wife just stuck with the tacos. From there we went on to visit my grandmother, who in her 90s, was still pretty coherent even though I had heard stories to the opposite. But she didn't entirely grasp what kind of music we played. She kept referring to the big band era and dances she use to go to. Then went on to call us a bunch "dingies."
That evening we went for dinner at Foster Burger, the place where Wes' sister in law works. It's gourmet burger joint and the food was great. Although squid ink for dipping sauce for your fries was a little off putting. Especially with a hangover. Although very tasty it probably wasn't the best pre-show meal. We headed over to the Red Room for the show. For myself personally, we couldn't have gotten there soon enough. Hair of the dog and all.
We were set to play first, followed by Flexx Bronco and then The Altarboys. We went on and the sound issues that plagued us the night before were gone. The sound was great. Wes was having a few issues with trying not to puke on stage and was later told he looked like "hammered shit." We finished out our set and played surprisingly well considering the shape of everyone. Personally I felt much better once we were done.
Flexx Bronco went on and played their set and did a great job. At one point their guitarist sang one song and opted to do a stage dive into the sparse crowd. They grabbed him and lifted him. Pinning him up against the low ceiling, which was just hilarious. He didn't miss a note singing though. Has to be commended for that one. Not to mention the ceiling of the Red Room is not the smoothest of things. Kind of a stucco, rough, jagged texture to it.
The Altarboys came up next. This is an interesting band. They play 1 show a year. It's whenever their singer comes back to visit from Amsterdam. They ran through a couple songs and I was hooked. Wes, in his unfortunate condition, had to leave a bit early. So all but Lee, my wife and myself were left. We watched the Altarboys put on a great set. Just wish they played more often. I would love to play with these guys again!
The show let out and we all headed back to the house. Most everyone was asleep or watching Lord Of The Rings. Lee, Wes' sister in law and I sat out on the porch chatting for a couple more hours. I opted to sleep in the room Lee was in as not to disturb everyone in the main living room. I started reading a book. I got 1 page in and promptly fell asleep. At some point in the night I started sleep walking. Apparently searching for the bathroom. Lord knows how long I wandered around our room, but I was told I did step all over Lee. I made my way out and almost went into Wes' sister in law and her husbands room. Thankfully my wife woke me up just before my entrance. That could have been disastrous... On my return I fell back asleep in the living room again. Only to wake up the next morning and seeing Doug, awake early again, staring at me.
We all proceeded to roll out of bed, some easier than others. Got packed up and headed back out on the road. We didn't have another show for 2 days. Those days were dedicated to solid driving. We had 2 cars. Doug's truck with a UHaul trailer and my little Toyota. Lee rode with my wife and I through this leg. Which created hours of silence with everyone napping to the strange conversations of movies and arguments over which mountain is which. At one point we stopped at a rest stop for a bite and stretch. Doug pulled out a football. We played a little catch and I realized I throw a football like one would a baseball and the result just looks idiotic. We managed to get to Redding that night.
The town of Redding kind of sucks on a Monday night. Doug opted to stay behind and get to sleep early. The rest of us set out to find a bar. We were staying at the Vagabond in that night. All the Motel 6s were booked solid, which seemed weird. We thought we'd just go to the Denny's in the same parking lot as the hotel and hang out in their lounge. This particular Denny's had no lounge. We asked the advice of a waitress as to where to go. She said the bowling alley. So we walked over that direction, only to find the bowling alley was closed. Across the street however, was a video arcade that was also a partial bar. We went there and played a few games and had a beer. The problem was we get there at 11:30pm and they closed at 12. So dejected again we went back on the search. We asked the employees of the arcade as to the where abouts of a decent watering hole. The guy, which we don't know his real name, but Wes decide he looked like a Derek so that shall be his name from now on... Derek. Derek named off several different places. We didn't find any of them. We even tried the Red Lion lobby bar, closed. We came across a casino/card room. It had a separate bar with karaoke going. Seemed as good place as any. We walked in and sat down. Wes ran off to the bathroom. We order and strangely Wes hadn't come back. After about 10 or 15 minutes. He finally came back and told a heroing tale of being locked in the bathroom. This is how he told it. I'm par phrasing of course, Wes' depiction was far more animated.
He went to the bathroom and noticed a guy at the urinal. Being a small bathroom Wes figured he would use the stall to give the guy his space. The guy finished up and washed his hands and walked out. Wes finished up and went to do the same. He reach for the door handle and pulled and it just would not open. He thought to himself maybe it's a sticky door and just lift up on it. Nothing still. He noticed kick marks at the bottom of the door. Tried to follow suit there as well, but to no avail. He thought to give me a call, but he left his cell in the hotel room. He took a step back to assess the situation before letting panic set in. He took a look around and noticed the tiling on the floor ran a different direction. He then took a peak around the corner and low and behold... The actual door. On which he exited with no problems what so ever. Wes was attempting to break into the janitor's closet. From then on he was still a little mad at the guy for locking him in. Unwarranted of course. But as we sat out on the patio, he pointed him out as the guy that locked him in the bathroom.
Later in the evening we ran into this fella again in the bathroom. Wes told the guy the same story of trying to get out through the janitor's closet. The guy responded that he had tried the same thing many times before.
Before we left this interesting little casino, we had to take a peak at the card room. I have never witnessed a place more unnerving. All that could be heard was the buzz from the neon lights overhead. The were many tables, but only one was occupied. Surrounded by several men playing poker, they all looked as if they were part of the Russian mafia. Once setting foot in that card room they all stopped and peered in our direction. The decision to leave promptly followed.
That's enough for one day... I'll post more later on. Coming soon... Tales of Buttonwillow Junction, The Whisky, Carlsbad and much more.
adam
WCG
Sunday, July 31, 2011
And the winner is!
As the races wound down we ventured over to "Pit Area." Which was pretty much an old shack/garage. We proceeded to set up our PA gear to get ready for an evening of music. The first band took the stage, unfortunately I didn't catch their name. I would love to plug them and their interesting brand of rock, but for some reason I never did hear their name. Following them was a great band hailing out of Camano Island called The Huckahoys. They played as dusk fell to night and their music broke through the silence of the surrounding farmland.
The crowd was definitely getting rowdier and drunker as we took the stage... or shack... We got set up and started in. Suddenly a pit formed and all that could be seen was a cloud of dust. The ground was completely dry and with all the folk dancing all the dirt suddenly became airborne. It was difficult to see much more than a few feet out of the shack. What I did notice was an above average number of folks hitting the ground pretty hard. I do not envy those people this morning, I'm sure they are pretty sore. We ran through our set with a few technical glitches. 2 broken strings; one of Wes' and one of mine. A kick drum, that was held in place by 2 car batteries set in front of it and yet still kept sliding all over the place do to the slick concrete floor. And a tuner that, for some reason, wasn't wanting to tune to well. Other than that we persevered and rocked the crowd of Stanwood. We were initially going to play a 10 song set. We finished up with Taking My Anger Back and the rowdy group called out for more so we tacked on Long Haul and South Of Sane. A great crowd and ton of fun to play!
As we finished and started packing up an older fellow showed up and started yelling at us for taking down our PA so we could head home. Apparently he wanted to do some sort of drunken blues jam into the night. We had no idea. But none the less he was angry at us. He wasn't afraid to let his true feelings show as he proclaimed across the camp ground to me "I have been disrespected by better than you." and my response was "It probably won't be the last time." which he replied, "GO SUCK AN EGG!" Never have I been so hurt... I think... I don't really know what term even means. I told Lee of the confrontation and he said that he liked eggs. So sucking one wasn't such a bad proposition, especially if fried. So maybe he was offering to make me breakfast. I just don't know... He was later asked to leave by the owner of the Slimedog property so I may never know.
Just another adventure into the epic saga of White City Graves!
adam
WCG
Saturday, June 11, 2011
An account of last night...
So as mant of you know we played at the J&M Cafe last night... Which, by the way, was a blast. All Bets On Death and The Heroine both put on great sets. We also wish The Heroine lots of luck on the remainder of their tour. Hopefully we'll run into them sometime again. All that aside, the night just kept getting stranger.
As the show wound down I was asked to give an autograph... The funny thing was the CD I was asked to sign wasn't even a WCG CD. The poor fella got his bands mixed up. But he ultimately bought one of ours and we signed that one as well. So now he has a Heroine CD signed by WCG.
Around 12:45ish my wife, Lee and I took off and just had the intention of running Lee home and then heading home ourselves. We ended up driving around a bit and found ourselves in Chinatown. We got it into our heads to check out the sight of the Wah Mee massacre. Why? I don't know... We decided before embarking on our adventure to grab a bite to eat. So we settled in at a little resturant in the heart of Chinatown called Sea Garden on 7th Ave. The food was fantastic! We all shared a plate of chicken in black bean sauce, potstickers and saki. This is resturant I'm going to have to frequent. I'm especially going to have to partake in the seafood. It's one of those places that have the tanks up front full of live crab, shrimp and so on. So you know it's REALLY fresh.
Anyway, we finished up eating and began our little night time walking tour through Chinatown. I've never really wandered around Chinatown. Mainly just had glancing drives through. Oddly, however, the true charm of the area isn't on the main thoroughfares. It's in the back alleys. We noted the bustling nightlife of the area even if it was after 2am at this point. We wandered down Maynard alley as Lee was spouting off his extensive knowledge of the area. He was making for a great tour guide. I've lived here my whole life and knew very little about the area. As we went down the alleyway we approached a very nondescript doorway. It had glass blocks out front. All of them hazed out except one that was close to the the door. Peering through the small little block window you can see that the Wah Mee nightclub was left the exact same way as it was the night of Feb. 18th 1983. There's still, what looks like, dim sum setting at the tables. Overall extremely creepy feeling peering back into a ghostly nightclub that was the site of the murder of 13 people. We did a bit more walking around the area, noting the things that were still open even though we were now approaching 3am.
We opted to hop back in the car and do a little more driving about. We ran over to a 7-11 and grabbed an array of Hostess treats and cigarettes and continued on. Our journey then took us down towards the stadiums. As we passed Safeco Field I hear Lee from the back seat say, "Hey look, superheros." I looked up and low behold it was Phoenix Jones. I told my wife to pull over. I think both her and Lee thought I had fallen off my rocker. I jumped out of the car and screamed out "Phoneix Jones!" he turned and waved. This however was not quite good enough for me. I had to meet Seattle's own vigilante, crimefighting superhero. I made my wife turn the car around as I fumbled wildly for a pen and paper. We caught up to the gang of superheros and I hopped out and ran across the street, Sharpy and an old envelope in hand. I got the autograph of the three. As my wife yelled from the car across the street to get a picture with them. We all headed back to the other side of the street as Lee and my wife took our pictures. Being drak and owning a crappy phone, the pictures didn't turn out too great. What can you do? Suddenly Lee hopped in the car and popped back out with a White City Graves t-shirt for Phoenix. We bid the superhero farewell and set out to get Lee home. As we passed Phoenix and his gang we noticed that he was peering into a doorway apparently sensing crime.... Go get 'em Phoenix!
Finally our night drew to a close. But the adventures of the evening were all fantastic!
adam
WCG
As the show wound down I was asked to give an autograph... The funny thing was the CD I was asked to sign wasn't even a WCG CD. The poor fella got his bands mixed up. But he ultimately bought one of ours and we signed that one as well. So now he has a Heroine CD signed by WCG.
Around 12:45ish my wife, Lee and I took off and just had the intention of running Lee home and then heading home ourselves. We ended up driving around a bit and found ourselves in Chinatown. We got it into our heads to check out the sight of the Wah Mee massacre. Why? I don't know... We decided before embarking on our adventure to grab a bite to eat. So we settled in at a little resturant in the heart of Chinatown called Sea Garden on 7th Ave. The food was fantastic! We all shared a plate of chicken in black bean sauce, potstickers and saki. This is resturant I'm going to have to frequent. I'm especially going to have to partake in the seafood. It's one of those places that have the tanks up front full of live crab, shrimp and so on. So you know it's REALLY fresh.
Anyway, we finished up eating and began our little night time walking tour through Chinatown. I've never really wandered around Chinatown. Mainly just had glancing drives through. Oddly, however, the true charm of the area isn't on the main thoroughfares. It's in the back alleys. We noted the bustling nightlife of the area even if it was after 2am at this point. We wandered down Maynard alley as Lee was spouting off his extensive knowledge of the area. He was making for a great tour guide. I've lived here my whole life and knew very little about the area. As we went down the alleyway we approached a very nondescript doorway. It had glass blocks out front. All of them hazed out except one that was close to the the door. Peering through the small little block window you can see that the Wah Mee nightclub was left the exact same way as it was the night of Feb. 18th 1983. There's still, what looks like, dim sum setting at the tables. Overall extremely creepy feeling peering back into a ghostly nightclub that was the site of the murder of 13 people. We did a bit more walking around the area, noting the things that were still open even though we were now approaching 3am.
We opted to hop back in the car and do a little more driving about. We ran over to a 7-11 and grabbed an array of Hostess treats and cigarettes and continued on. Our journey then took us down towards the stadiums. As we passed Safeco Field I hear Lee from the back seat say, "Hey look, superheros." I looked up and low behold it was Phoenix Jones. I told my wife to pull over. I think both her and Lee thought I had fallen off my rocker. I jumped out of the car and screamed out "Phoneix Jones!" he turned and waved. This however was not quite good enough for me. I had to meet Seattle's own vigilante, crimefighting superhero. I made my wife turn the car around as I fumbled wildly for a pen and paper. We caught up to the gang of superheros and I hopped out and ran across the street, Sharpy and an old envelope in hand. I got the autograph of the three. As my wife yelled from the car across the street to get a picture with them. We all headed back to the other side of the street as Lee and my wife took our pictures. Being drak and owning a crappy phone, the pictures didn't turn out too great. What can you do? Suddenly Lee hopped in the car and popped back out with a White City Graves t-shirt for Phoenix. We bid the superhero farewell and set out to get Lee home. As we passed Phoenix and his gang we noticed that he was peering into a doorway apparently sensing crime.... Go get 'em Phoenix!
Finally our night drew to a close. But the adventures of the evening were all fantastic!
adam
WCG
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Time to rant!
So in today's edition of rants and raves from the Graves, I do in fact have some rants. But before I get to that I'll give a little update in WCG news. First off our Summer tour is pretty much booked in full outside of one date in Eugene. For the life of me I can't find a club that runs live bands on a Sunday. If anyone has any suggestions, please feel free to let me know. Also, we have some other shows coming up and in the works before the tour starts. June 10th we'll be at the J&M down in Pioneer Square with All Bets On Death and The Heroine out of Texas. That one should be a blast. We also have one down in Portland at the Red Room on July 8th with The Wayne Gacy Trio and Monster Sized Monsters. And I'll do my best to keep you posted on the other goings on in the WCG camp.
Now on to my bitch session. This is not pertinent to music in anyway shape or form, but I have keep it kind of nebulous, well, just because. Occasionally I run across people in life that for some, reason or another, are smarmy assholes. It seems they have reached this elitist level out of their own failed sense of life. This is baffling to me. You suck at life so you, in turn, develop an attitude that you are much more. Or is it because you suck at life that you over compensate? I'm truly at a loss. An over glorified sense of power that someone holds over you with little provocation or merit.
As an example, I'll equate it to a security guard. No offense to security guards out there. Many of which do their job well, but I know there are the few out there, because I've run into them. They have this overinflated sense of power. The fact of the matter is they, most likely, had aspirations of joining the police force, Army Rangers or something in that field. But being feeble of mind or body has prevented this in one way or another. So instead of taking it in stride and making the best of their situation, they instead invoke a false power unto others to fill the void of their own failures. It's one thing to take your job seriously. And in that field, I would imagine you would have to be alert and rather vigilant to what's happening around you. Then there are those guys... You know the ones. I'm sure even the folks that work as security guards know them and think they're assholes too. They think they're part of some elite paramilitary group that's sole purpose is to carry out their actions with extreme prejudice.
Now, I'm just using the security guard as an example, but people like this exist in all walks of life and professions. I'm sure you ALL know someone along these lines. You know the feeling you get when you find yourself in the company of one of these assclowns... The one of fantasizing of ripping their arms off and beating them about the head and neck with their own arms.
I do wonder however, do these folks realize they are this way? Probably not... So I guess to those folks I would put a twist on an old saying. Take a look around and if you don't see the dick in the room... It's probably you. And that's all I have to say about that...
Adam
WCG
Now on to my bitch session. This is not pertinent to music in anyway shape or form, but I have keep it kind of nebulous, well, just because. Occasionally I run across people in life that for some, reason or another, are smarmy assholes. It seems they have reached this elitist level out of their own failed sense of life. This is baffling to me. You suck at life so you, in turn, develop an attitude that you are much more. Or is it because you suck at life that you over compensate? I'm truly at a loss. An over glorified sense of power that someone holds over you with little provocation or merit.
As an example, I'll equate it to a security guard. No offense to security guards out there. Many of which do their job well, but I know there are the few out there, because I've run into them. They have this overinflated sense of power. The fact of the matter is they, most likely, had aspirations of joining the police force, Army Rangers or something in that field. But being feeble of mind or body has prevented this in one way or another. So instead of taking it in stride and making the best of their situation, they instead invoke a false power unto others to fill the void of their own failures. It's one thing to take your job seriously. And in that field, I would imagine you would have to be alert and rather vigilant to what's happening around you. Then there are those guys... You know the ones. I'm sure even the folks that work as security guards know them and think they're assholes too. They think they're part of some elite paramilitary group that's sole purpose is to carry out their actions with extreme prejudice.
Now, I'm just using the security guard as an example, but people like this exist in all walks of life and professions. I'm sure you ALL know someone along these lines. You know the feeling you get when you find yourself in the company of one of these assclowns... The one of fantasizing of ripping their arms off and beating them about the head and neck with their own arms.
I do wonder however, do these folks realize they are this way? Probably not... So I guess to those folks I would put a twist on an old saying. Take a look around and if you don't see the dick in the room... It's probably you. And that's all I have to say about that...
Adam
WCG
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
New news
I guess I started this little bloggy thing with the best intentions. I figured I would have enough to say at least once a week or so. What I do then? Write 2 posts and stop. I'm going to try and rectify that now and see if I can't do a this a bit more regularly.
So what's new in the White City Graves world? As many of you have already read we are in the process of booking our first tour, which came on the heels of booking a show at the Whisky A Go Go. Which, trust me, I'm pretty excited about playing. The logistics of booking just a week long thing down the I-5 corridor are ridiculous. No wonder bands with money have teams that take care of this kind of thing for them. Just the simple act of finding clubs to play in the cities that you think are achievable in a day's driving is pretty hard. The proposed itinerary right now is:
Friday: Seattle
Saturday: Portland
Sunday: Eugene
Monday: Off
Tuesday: Off
Wednesday: Hollywood
Thursday: San Diego
Friday: San Francisco
Saturday: Medford
The last leg of this being the most difficult as far as drive times are concerned. It's going to be tough, but I'm sure we'll make it through somehow and probably go broke in the process. Ah the glamorous life of playing in an indie band.
On another note, we started writing some new material. I don't think anything will be ready for debut in Portland this coming Saturday, but you never know... The latest song that's nearing completion is called "The Stalker." A dark little ditty for the ladies. We've also been knocking around the idea of a cover song. We have one that we've been working on. Whether or not we'll ever use it remains to be seen. That cover coupled with the impromptu renditions of "Walk" by Pantera and "Seek and Destroy" by Metallica, you never know what we're going to end up doing. If any cover at all. I'm always of the opinion that at most one cover in a set is alright. Especially when playing to crowds that are unfamiliar with you. Gives them a way to get into you. But it's a double edge sword. I've seen bands get defined by their covers. I think the trick is to make it your own. Make it still accessible to the listener, but don't try to do it verbatim. Unless that, of course, is your thing. Like a tribute band or a straight cover band. I guess just my opinion there...
We've been playing quite a bit lately and have a lot on the horizon. We were at Bender's last weekend, which was a pretty cool little joint down in the Renton area. The week before that was up in Snohomish at Stewart's, which is always a fun gig. This time around we had a pretty bad ass line up too. Brad Yaeger and The Country Gentlemen got things rolling then us a The Screaming Starts finished things out. We did have a small issue with noise complaints and the police being called. That's the one down side to the place. And... Let's see, the week prior to that we were all the way up in Oak Harbor for an all ages show. Hardly anyone was there, but I have to give it up to the venue (Vagabond Sound). Awesome set up they have there. The sound is great, lighting is great, they have a fog machine too! It's just the fact that it's in Oak Harbor! An hour and half drive in the hopes some one's gonna be there. I'm sure we'll head back. Roll in on an opening slot for a local act or something. I would recommend it to anyone who plays in a band or just wants to go to a good venue that doesn't cost and arm and a leg to get in. It is a very cool set up.
Well I think that's all in the news today... If you want more info just head to one of our sites to get it there, like show dates, new releases and so on.
adam
WCG
So what's new in the White City Graves world? As many of you have already read we are in the process of booking our first tour, which came on the heels of booking a show at the Whisky A Go Go. Which, trust me, I'm pretty excited about playing. The logistics of booking just a week long thing down the I-5 corridor are ridiculous. No wonder bands with money have teams that take care of this kind of thing for them. Just the simple act of finding clubs to play in the cities that you think are achievable in a day's driving is pretty hard. The proposed itinerary right now is:
Friday: Seattle
Saturday: Portland
Sunday: Eugene
Monday: Off
Tuesday: Off
Wednesday: Hollywood
Thursday: San Diego
Friday: San Francisco
Saturday: Medford
The last leg of this being the most difficult as far as drive times are concerned. It's going to be tough, but I'm sure we'll make it through somehow and probably go broke in the process. Ah the glamorous life of playing in an indie band.
On another note, we started writing some new material. I don't think anything will be ready for debut in Portland this coming Saturday, but you never know... The latest song that's nearing completion is called "The Stalker." A dark little ditty for the ladies. We've also been knocking around the idea of a cover song. We have one that we've been working on. Whether or not we'll ever use it remains to be seen. That cover coupled with the impromptu renditions of "Walk" by Pantera and "Seek and Destroy" by Metallica, you never know what we're going to end up doing. If any cover at all. I'm always of the opinion that at most one cover in a set is alright. Especially when playing to crowds that are unfamiliar with you. Gives them a way to get into you. But it's a double edge sword. I've seen bands get defined by their covers. I think the trick is to make it your own. Make it still accessible to the listener, but don't try to do it verbatim. Unless that, of course, is your thing. Like a tribute band or a straight cover band. I guess just my opinion there...
We've been playing quite a bit lately and have a lot on the horizon. We were at Bender's last weekend, which was a pretty cool little joint down in the Renton area. The week before that was up in Snohomish at Stewart's, which is always a fun gig. This time around we had a pretty bad ass line up too. Brad Yaeger and The Country Gentlemen got things rolling then us a The Screaming Starts finished things out. We did have a small issue with noise complaints and the police being called. That's the one down side to the place. And... Let's see, the week prior to that we were all the way up in Oak Harbor for an all ages show. Hardly anyone was there, but I have to give it up to the venue (Vagabond Sound). Awesome set up they have there. The sound is great, lighting is great, they have a fog machine too! It's just the fact that it's in Oak Harbor! An hour and half drive in the hopes some one's gonna be there. I'm sure we'll head back. Roll in on an opening slot for a local act or something. I would recommend it to anyone who plays in a band or just wants to go to a good venue that doesn't cost and arm and a leg to get in. It is a very cool set up.
Well I think that's all in the news today... If you want more info just head to one of our sites to get it there, like show dates, new releases and so on.
adam
WCG
Friday, February 25, 2011
Trials and Tribulations...
Tomorrow we have a show up in Everett at Tony V's with Astrovan. Usually on the eve prior to a show I'm really excited. Can't wait until the time comes to play... Especially since tomorrow we got a new song to be debuted (Taking My Anger Back). And the fact we're playing with Astrovan is an added bonus. Should be a good turn out of people. So why am I so apprehensive this time? Because I have freakin' cold. I know that I'm past the peak of it and I'm getting better. But there's always something in the back of your mind that says, "What if you're not better, what if you get worse?"
The funny thing is even if I do get worse or I'm not feeling 100% by tomorrow night, I'll still play and sing my guts out. Probably increasing my chances of passing or puking in the midst of the set. Just what has to be done.
I was so paranoid about this fact last night that I opted to make my own neti pot. For those who aren't familiar with the neti pot, I'll explain. It's a small tea pot looking thing, generally ceramic. The concept is that you fill it with salt water, lean your head over the sink looking to one side, jam the spout of this tea pot up your nose and dump. The water goes in one nostril and out the other cleaning out your sinuses. Some ancient Chinese holistic concept to help with colds, allergies and so on. The whole process is called neti lota.
I priced out some of these little pots at the holistic/hippy shops around my neighborhood. Stupid little pots are expensive. I thought to myself that I could make one of these that would be just as effective to see if this helps my cold at all. Just to clear things up really quick for all those folks out there who just say take some cold medicine of some sort and shut up. I don't like cold medicine. The daytime crap sends me into a shaky, panicy mess (No wonder they make meth out of it), the night time stuff actually keeps me awake. Generally speaking my usual cold remedy is an aspirin, beer and cigarettes. Cigarettes, oddly, being the greatest cough suppressants ever. But time is of the essence right now. I need to cut a day or so off some of these dumb cold symptoms. Some people say Zinc... BS! It doesn't do anything for you once you have a cold... Neither does Vitamin C or echnicia or chicken soup for that matter. All of these remedies suck! You're better off with a shot of whisky and a hot shower. Even WebMD says so... So it has to be right... Right?
Anyway, enough of that... On with this adventure. Back to the mini tea pot. I decided to build my own. I wandered around my house for awhile searching for something. Then it hit me... Here's what you need to make your own neti pot at home: 1 exacto knife, 1/2 regular drinking straw, 1 roll scotch tape, and an empty can... Mine turned out to be an empty PBR can... Go figure. Washed out the can... I didn't want a PBR nasal enema. Cut a small hole near the base. Inserted the straw at an upward angle. Taped it in place and filled in the gaps with tape to prevent to much leakage. I went on to make my salt mixture. Which on the internet said 1/4tsp per 8oz of water (again the interwebs said it so it has to be right... Right?). It burned... It sucked... Then I realized I was using iodized salt. Apparently this is a no-no. Every source said no iodized salt. Then I opted to just go with warm water. And I'll be dammed if it didn't help out. The sneezing stopped, I could breath... For a little while. Like a half an hour or so. Then the cold came raging right back with it's last round of pervasive snot. I hate colds....
Well, no matter what happens sick or healthy... Tony V's tomorrow is going to be awesome! I guarantee it!
WCG - Adam
The funny thing is even if I do get worse or I'm not feeling 100% by tomorrow night, I'll still play and sing my guts out. Probably increasing my chances of passing or puking in the midst of the set. Just what has to be done.
I was so paranoid about this fact last night that I opted to make my own neti pot. For those who aren't familiar with the neti pot, I'll explain. It's a small tea pot looking thing, generally ceramic. The concept is that you fill it with salt water, lean your head over the sink looking to one side, jam the spout of this tea pot up your nose and dump. The water goes in one nostril and out the other cleaning out your sinuses. Some ancient Chinese holistic concept to help with colds, allergies and so on. The whole process is called neti lota.
I priced out some of these little pots at the holistic/hippy shops around my neighborhood. Stupid little pots are expensive. I thought to myself that I could make one of these that would be just as effective to see if this helps my cold at all. Just to clear things up really quick for all those folks out there who just say take some cold medicine of some sort and shut up. I don't like cold medicine. The daytime crap sends me into a shaky, panicy mess (No wonder they make meth out of it), the night time stuff actually keeps me awake. Generally speaking my usual cold remedy is an aspirin, beer and cigarettes. Cigarettes, oddly, being the greatest cough suppressants ever. But time is of the essence right now. I need to cut a day or so off some of these dumb cold symptoms. Some people say Zinc... BS! It doesn't do anything for you once you have a cold... Neither does Vitamin C or echnicia or chicken soup for that matter. All of these remedies suck! You're better off with a shot of whisky and a hot shower. Even WebMD says so... So it has to be right... Right?
Anyway, enough of that... On with this adventure. Back to the mini tea pot. I decided to build my own. I wandered around my house for awhile searching for something. Then it hit me... Here's what you need to make your own neti pot at home: 1 exacto knife, 1/2 regular drinking straw, 1 roll scotch tape, and an empty can... Mine turned out to be an empty PBR can... Go figure. Washed out the can... I didn't want a PBR nasal enema. Cut a small hole near the base. Inserted the straw at an upward angle. Taped it in place and filled in the gaps with tape to prevent to much leakage. I went on to make my salt mixture. Which on the internet said 1/4tsp per 8oz of water (again the interwebs said it so it has to be right... Right?). It burned... It sucked... Then I realized I was using iodized salt. Apparently this is a no-no. Every source said no iodized salt. Then I opted to just go with warm water. And I'll be dammed if it didn't help out. The sneezing stopped, I could breath... For a little while. Like a half an hour or so. Then the cold came raging right back with it's last round of pervasive snot. I hate colds....
Well, no matter what happens sick or healthy... Tony V's tomorrow is going to be awesome! I guarantee it!
WCG - Adam
Friday, February 18, 2011
In the beginning...
I decide to go ahead and start this here little blog because, well, I think everyone else has one and the peer pressure has started getting to me. Plus I often have free time on my hands and other outlets have restrictions on the length of what you can type. I set it up to be an outlet for news about the world of WCG as we tread through the waters of being an indie rock band. This will give you the insight for 4 guys who really like making music and wish we could make enough at it to pay our bills... The reality of that however, is very slim. So what keeps us trying after so many years? If you play music you already know. If you don't it's for the shear love of doing it. The feeling of playing a good live set, that you've put everything you have into it. Even though often times you feel exhausted, sore and just all in all ravaged afterward. If people enjoyed what you put out there and had a good time, there's nothing like it. It's also about that sense of accomplishment when you head to the recording studio and start laying the tracks for what you've written and realizing it's coming to fruition as the mix evolves and becomes what you always hoped it could. It's about writing that new song and realizing your own song is stuck in your head... All that and so much more.
I suppose for those of you who don't know us, I should go through the introductions... I'll start with myself. I'm Adam... I'm the singer and guitarist for WCG. Been at this music thing for a really long time. Playing in a multitude of bands. Some good, some god awful. I started out at it while in junior high. So I was roughly13 or 14 years old. Somewhere there abouts. I got my first guitar from my aunt. She had gotten it when she was in high school. It was some Sears special model and looked a little like a Fender Jag. It had an amp that came with that's speaker was a 6x9, which for all you out there that aren't guitar dorks, is a really weird size for a guitar amp. It didn't have any distortion or anything. Which was fine because I didn't really understand how that actually worked yet anyway. But it did have a vibrato setting which was really cool when I first figured out how to play the intro to Sanitarium by Metallica.
As I started to figure out a little more about guitars I saved up my duckets from my paper route and bought myself a Polaris guitar with a bitchin' red black cracked paint job... In all honesty I know I only bought for the paint job. I also outfitted myself with Peavy Rage amp... I was ready to rock. I hooked up with some other kids from school who sucked as equally bad as I and we formed a band. We had many names... I remember Wasted Time and GSS (which stood for Giant Shirtless Santa)... We didn't really know how to write or play, but we managed to come up with a few songs and take a crack at a cover of London Dungeons by the Misfits. We played one show at our junior high in the gym. We were laughed at... I then decided that maybe lessons wouldn't be such a bad idea.
I started taking lessons from a great guitarist named Tim Lerch who would begrudgingly teach me rock songs, but was very heavy handed about instilling the blues into me. So he would set aside some time at the end of each lesson to teach me whatever my favorite song happen to be that week... Cowboys From Hell by Pantera was one that I remember being the trickiest.
Anyway, during this time me some other friends formed another band with the ever so clever name Eargasm... We were short a drummer however. That's where Doug (The drummer for WCG) comes into play. He was introduced to us though a friend of a friend. We recorded some songs. I still have the reel to reel of it, but I don't really remember any of the songs other than Little Bunny Foo Foo. I don't have a multi track 1/2 inch reel player to listen to it again. We played one show that I recall a show that was actually really ground braking, but no one knows this. It was, in fact, the very first show at the Redmond YMCA, or the Old Firehouse as it's called now. It was for some one's birthday. They rented it out. I still have the flyer. Eargasm, Bill Grogen's Goat and Riki Tiki Tavi. There was no stage, we played on the floor.
As Eargasm that show was our last gasp. Shortly there after we parted ways with our singer. We went on to form I Fergit. Which also played the first city sanctioned show at the Redmond YMCA. We had a long legacy as I Fergit, even if we did stink at the time. We got better as time went on. Then I was given the boot out of the band... As I Fergit went on to become Evil Twin. I went off on my own and met up with another couple of guys that I had known for awhile, one of which being Wes (WCG Guitarist, but at the time Wes played bass). We went on to form Damnit Jim. Which could only be described as prog rock. We put way too much thought into it. It wasn't bad, but we were trying too hard to make it complicated. This was my first foray into the world of singing, although I shared the duties with Wes. Damnit Jim recorded one album called "I Told You Not To Touch Me There." We were going to have it mastered by a fella who ran his own indie label. He happen to like our music enough to sign us to a development deal. Big mistake! At the time we were way to volatile. We played one show at the Crocodile on an off night, I'll be honest I don't remember much from the show. We may have played good, but it was a long time ago. Well, shortly after that I ran into Doug again and we made amends from the past. Wes and I had the idea to move our existing drummer up to lead vocals and bring in Doug on drums. In theory it was a good idea our existing drummer was a better singer than drummer and Doug was a better drummer. We started writing new stuff a little simpler and heavier. Come to find his voice was a terrible fit. We had to let him go. A move we tried to do gently, but it's never gentle enough. We never spoke again. And in the end with that move, we owed money to the record label and had nothing to show for it.
So now as a three piece Doug, Wes and I formed Slop Shot. We tootled around town for several years. Making our biggest impacts on the outlying areas of the city, Everett, Stanwood and so on. We played a lot of shows in a lot of different areas. Then Doug found work in Las Vegas and Wes and I were fighting like two fat dejected prom dates squabbling over the last quart of rocky road ice cream. So instead of searching for a new drummer we called it quits.
Time went by, Doug did his thing down in Vegas. Wes, I know, was toying around with his own ideas and collaborating with other people while testing out his drum chops. I was trying out for varying bands. Time went by and Doug moved back up here. He formed Guns of Nevada. Wes and I later met up at a wedding and buried the hatchet there. A few weeks passed and one drunken evening I, gave Wes and Doug a call about maybe doing a reunion.
After several years off Slop Shot was back. But it wasn't the same. We were different. We played a couple shows and something felt off. We started writing again and it was darker, heavier and more riff rock oriented than it was before. It just different than the drinking and driving kind of feel Slop Shot had. So we opted to retool a bit. Wes decided since he always played bass like a guitarist, he would move over to guitar. Now we were short a bassist, we tried out a couple guys. We had fill ins come in to help us while we wrote new stuff. But nothing was the right mix. We were also in a naming crisis. We couldn't go by Slop Shot anymore. Lists upon lists were emailed back and forth. Some where funny, some were terrible, some were good, but we all agreed it had to be unanimous. White City Graves was one that was among the first round of names. I'll admit, I wasn't sold on it initially. I thought it sounded like a Body Count album title. But as the naming arguments continued Doug and Wes finally warmed me up to the idea. So White City Graves was born, but still sans bassist.
One day I went to post an ad for a bassist on Craigs List and I came across a post that said... "A pretty good bassist looking for a rock band." The ad finished out with, "I have a job and a dog and I don't have a beard." It was a strange enough ad that I had to respond. Little did I know the response was going to come from a fella with a great rock name like Lee Rude. Lee came out for a try out. It didn't even take the whole practice for us to all agree that Lee was our guy. Hell, the guy showed up to the try out wearing a hat that resembled a bat. He got into what we were writing, he picked it up quick and started adding his own flare and just all around awesomeness to it. We found the final piece of the puzzle. A guy that's a seasoned Seattle rock veteran playing with Chelsea Speed Party and Lee Rude and the Trainwrecks.
So that brings up to the recent. We have recorded 4 songs. We've released the demo version of one, "Let The Devil On In." We have even decided what to call our fun, new, macabre genre... Horror Core. Catchy ain't it? Off the demo version of Devil alone we have inked a deal with Cinderella Records. Got a bit of radio play. Lined up shows to keep us busy all over the northwest. The 4 song EP will be done soon. It will have the final version of Let The Devil On In. It will also have the songs Prophet, Blood Sweat and Gears and Skeletons.
So that's us... As time goes on I will regularly, or try as regularly as I can, to keep updates coming. It won't always be WCG related stuff though. I'm sure I'll get a bug up my butt from time to time and post other things here too. Like how to make really good chicken cordon bleu or what I thought of the movie Ice Pirates or how Bank of America yet again screwed me out of my money. Whatever... I may even have a life lesson in there somewhere... You never know... Because I am very wise... Doug's apparently a point shy of being a genius... Lee's a little nuts... And Wes... Well, Wes is quite the charming fellow. For all the other stuff like show dates and releases and junk just follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Reverbnation, Mysapce whatever...
That's enough for one day...
WCG - Adam
I suppose for those of you who don't know us, I should go through the introductions... I'll start with myself. I'm Adam... I'm the singer and guitarist for WCG. Been at this music thing for a really long time. Playing in a multitude of bands. Some good, some god awful. I started out at it while in junior high. So I was roughly13 or 14 years old. Somewhere there abouts. I got my first guitar from my aunt. She had gotten it when she was in high school. It was some Sears special model and looked a little like a Fender Jag. It had an amp that came with that's speaker was a 6x9, which for all you out there that aren't guitar dorks, is a really weird size for a guitar amp. It didn't have any distortion or anything. Which was fine because I didn't really understand how that actually worked yet anyway. But it did have a vibrato setting which was really cool when I first figured out how to play the intro to Sanitarium by Metallica.
As I started to figure out a little more about guitars I saved up my duckets from my paper route and bought myself a Polaris guitar with a bitchin' red black cracked paint job... In all honesty I know I only bought for the paint job. I also outfitted myself with Peavy Rage amp... I was ready to rock. I hooked up with some other kids from school who sucked as equally bad as I and we formed a band. We had many names... I remember Wasted Time and GSS (which stood for Giant Shirtless Santa)... We didn't really know how to write or play, but we managed to come up with a few songs and take a crack at a cover of London Dungeons by the Misfits. We played one show at our junior high in the gym. We were laughed at... I then decided that maybe lessons wouldn't be such a bad idea.
I started taking lessons from a great guitarist named Tim Lerch who would begrudgingly teach me rock songs, but was very heavy handed about instilling the blues into me. So he would set aside some time at the end of each lesson to teach me whatever my favorite song happen to be that week... Cowboys From Hell by Pantera was one that I remember being the trickiest.
Anyway, during this time me some other friends formed another band with the ever so clever name Eargasm... We were short a drummer however. That's where Doug (The drummer for WCG) comes into play. He was introduced to us though a friend of a friend. We recorded some songs. I still have the reel to reel of it, but I don't really remember any of the songs other than Little Bunny Foo Foo. I don't have a multi track 1/2 inch reel player to listen to it again. We played one show that I recall a show that was actually really ground braking, but no one knows this. It was, in fact, the very first show at the Redmond YMCA, or the Old Firehouse as it's called now. It was for some one's birthday. They rented it out. I still have the flyer. Eargasm, Bill Grogen's Goat and Riki Tiki Tavi. There was no stage, we played on the floor.
As Eargasm that show was our last gasp. Shortly there after we parted ways with our singer. We went on to form I Fergit. Which also played the first city sanctioned show at the Redmond YMCA. We had a long legacy as I Fergit, even if we did stink at the time. We got better as time went on. Then I was given the boot out of the band... As I Fergit went on to become Evil Twin. I went off on my own and met up with another couple of guys that I had known for awhile, one of which being Wes (WCG Guitarist, but at the time Wes played bass). We went on to form Damnit Jim. Which could only be described as prog rock. We put way too much thought into it. It wasn't bad, but we were trying too hard to make it complicated. This was my first foray into the world of singing, although I shared the duties with Wes. Damnit Jim recorded one album called "I Told You Not To Touch Me There." We were going to have it mastered by a fella who ran his own indie label. He happen to like our music enough to sign us to a development deal. Big mistake! At the time we were way to volatile. We played one show at the Crocodile on an off night, I'll be honest I don't remember much from the show. We may have played good, but it was a long time ago. Well, shortly after that I ran into Doug again and we made amends from the past. Wes and I had the idea to move our existing drummer up to lead vocals and bring in Doug on drums. In theory it was a good idea our existing drummer was a better singer than drummer and Doug was a better drummer. We started writing new stuff a little simpler and heavier. Come to find his voice was a terrible fit. We had to let him go. A move we tried to do gently, but it's never gentle enough. We never spoke again. And in the end with that move, we owed money to the record label and had nothing to show for it.
So now as a three piece Doug, Wes and I formed Slop Shot. We tootled around town for several years. Making our biggest impacts on the outlying areas of the city, Everett, Stanwood and so on. We played a lot of shows in a lot of different areas. Then Doug found work in Las Vegas and Wes and I were fighting like two fat dejected prom dates squabbling over the last quart of rocky road ice cream. So instead of searching for a new drummer we called it quits.
Time went by, Doug did his thing down in Vegas. Wes, I know, was toying around with his own ideas and collaborating with other people while testing out his drum chops. I was trying out for varying bands. Time went by and Doug moved back up here. He formed Guns of Nevada. Wes and I later met up at a wedding and buried the hatchet there. A few weeks passed and one drunken evening I, gave Wes and Doug a call about maybe doing a reunion.
After several years off Slop Shot was back. But it wasn't the same. We were different. We played a couple shows and something felt off. We started writing again and it was darker, heavier and more riff rock oriented than it was before. It just different than the drinking and driving kind of feel Slop Shot had. So we opted to retool a bit. Wes decided since he always played bass like a guitarist, he would move over to guitar. Now we were short a bassist, we tried out a couple guys. We had fill ins come in to help us while we wrote new stuff. But nothing was the right mix. We were also in a naming crisis. We couldn't go by Slop Shot anymore. Lists upon lists were emailed back and forth. Some where funny, some were terrible, some were good, but we all agreed it had to be unanimous. White City Graves was one that was among the first round of names. I'll admit, I wasn't sold on it initially. I thought it sounded like a Body Count album title. But as the naming arguments continued Doug and Wes finally warmed me up to the idea. So White City Graves was born, but still sans bassist.
One day I went to post an ad for a bassist on Craigs List and I came across a post that said... "A pretty good bassist looking for a rock band." The ad finished out with, "I have a job and a dog and I don't have a beard." It was a strange enough ad that I had to respond. Little did I know the response was going to come from a fella with a great rock name like Lee Rude. Lee came out for a try out. It didn't even take the whole practice for us to all agree that Lee was our guy. Hell, the guy showed up to the try out wearing a hat that resembled a bat. He got into what we were writing, he picked it up quick and started adding his own flare and just all around awesomeness to it. We found the final piece of the puzzle. A guy that's a seasoned Seattle rock veteran playing with Chelsea Speed Party and Lee Rude and the Trainwrecks.
So that brings up to the recent. We have recorded 4 songs. We've released the demo version of one, "Let The Devil On In." We have even decided what to call our fun, new, macabre genre... Horror Core. Catchy ain't it? Off the demo version of Devil alone we have inked a deal with Cinderella Records. Got a bit of radio play. Lined up shows to keep us busy all over the northwest. The 4 song EP will be done soon. It will have the final version of Let The Devil On In. It will also have the songs Prophet, Blood Sweat and Gears and Skeletons.
So that's us... As time goes on I will regularly, or try as regularly as I can, to keep updates coming. It won't always be WCG related stuff though. I'm sure I'll get a bug up my butt from time to time and post other things here too. Like how to make really good chicken cordon bleu or what I thought of the movie Ice Pirates or how Bank of America yet again screwed me out of my money. Whatever... I may even have a life lesson in there somewhere... You never know... Because I am very wise... Doug's apparently a point shy of being a genius... Lee's a little nuts... And Wes... Well, Wes is quite the charming fellow. For all the other stuff like show dates and releases and junk just follow us on Facebook, Twitter, Reverbnation, Mysapce whatever...
That's enough for one day...
WCG - Adam
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