Diary of the Same Old Road Story and the Interconnectedness of Everything, pt. 3: Rain Hailed, Sleet Snowed, It’s Hard to Have Some Fun
And we’re back. I can’t remember the last time I was in South Philly. Seriously, I still haven’t gone back. I’m still in West Philly and we’ve been back for two days.
This afternoon I cleaned the shower doors in the women’s room and the insides of the showers in the men’s room. Over the course of the afternoon I listened to the same Angels of Light record four times. Halfway between Minneapolis and Madison, on the return trip, Mike said “Way to pick the worst possible record for how I’m feeling right now.” And how!
So the linear super boring non-story story of the tour, for my records and for yours, is as follows. I am straight up returning to secret code blogging as soon as this shit is posted once and for all for everyone who cares to google up.
We drove 2,650 miles, marked from a rest stop around Valley Forge back to Girard and Belmont. The only car accident we saw was a cop crashed into an SUV just as we crossed back into the ‘delph.
We played in Pittsburgh at Garfield Artworks with a guy (among some other stuff) who opened his set by covering that Semisonic song Closing Time, and everyone there cringed or threw up apart from his dad. It was the most poorly run show I’ve ever been to. We played last when we should have played first, whatever. We played for five minutes to two people and we played on a stage and through a PA. One of the people was in a band from earlier and the other was Jeremy, who put us up, bought us beer and was a completely amazing dude.
We played at Kenyon College in Gambier Ohio. A hiphop guy Leo who went to the college played before us. I drank maybe eight beers before and was pursuing Purity and Accuracy (“if you don’t know, now ya know”) so I was super into it. He had what might be called a tight flow and he rapped over the beat from Tried By Twelve at one point. We didn’t understand why we were at Kenyon until we found out that Chris is from Aryan/Asian, who played at the show in Philly where Mike met Mirra, who set up the show. (He gave me his CD-R “The Official Mississippi Gamelan Quartet,” or maybe Quintet, I don’t have it in front of me. Home recording lovers who have done mushrooms, watch for this shit! PS Mike if you’re reading this give me back my VCO jams right now.) As for ouuuurrr jams at Kenyon, we defined the “new” set that we’d play for the rest of the tour, featuring the reservoir dream, the not sorry song and the ugly fucked up mic feedback I seem to be playing more these days than I play bass. Also we went to the best bonfire I have ever been to and, as I mentioned(? I’m not reading back to see if I mentioned it or not), I capital-I Interrupted two people when I went on a dreamwalk through distant dark brush at 3AM.
In Chicago we played at a Version Festival event with twelve bands. We played an aggravating set to a fairly ambivalent crowd. Mike and I ate Subway in frustration just before and the chicken I ate made my stomach turn. We couldn’t get very good sound because Mike had blown his amp in Kenyon and he had to borrow a new one.
In Madison we didn’t play a show because Jamie “wasn’t ready for us.” He did buy us tacos, though, and I continue to miss his Philadelphia presence as much as I did when he left.
In Minneapolis we played alone at a birthday party for about twenty people on the second floor of a sprawling house. There were ghosts from my past and future everywhere and the night was generally upsetting though our set wasn’t too bad. Horrible uncontrollable “bad” feedback from the guitar but we just went with it. We gave buddy boy from Gold Kodiak (who I can’t stop calling Malcolm even though it’s not Malcolm) one of the prints of Nate. Afterward there was a tame bonfire in a backyard.
In Madison again we still didn’t play a show because Ted and Don waffled on us. Don had said three days earlier, and I quote, “I didn’t buy a PA last year for us to not do shows.” Fucking lame, dudes!
In Indiana somewhere Mike and I remembered to put in The Blueprint. It made our spirits rise and broke us out of a certain cloudiness that set in after we left Chicago. Mike saw a dozen orioles on the way to Columbus and said he thought it was a good sign, because he saw one on the way to Kenyon. It turned out to be the best show of the tour, and probably a tie for the best time. Aaron of Sword Heaven did us the favor of putting us on the bill. I ate so much delicious chicken and soup that I felt like I was at my mom’s house. Our set was as good as it gets. We drank whiskey and Mike slept on the roof. Everyone was super friendly, the show was extremely well organized and they even gave us some gas money.
And now you know 4% of what I’ve been doing for the last nine days.
Who?: Tasneem, Rafael Mudboy, This Is My Condition, Frankie Martin, free buffets that cost $5 (and/or “there is no such thing as a free lunch”), Max + Mica, Jamie, Ted + Don even though they fuckin’ straight up failed, Caroline for telling good lies and giving us presents, Carissa + Chris, The Feminist Stronghold, Lambsbread + Major Stars + Bonedust + Sword Heaven, Val + Doug