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Saturday, April 28, 2012
Andrew WKoverband
Who knows if something like this will ever happen again. There was a palpable sense of fun in the room-- the crowd was nuts, everyone was singing along, people were bouncing off the walls.
If I had to power to make a better looking, better sounding video, I absolutely would; this is what I was able to get.
The Kraken
the faces behind the bar and at the door haven't changed... but the people we saw at The Galway now own The Kraken, which is a big change in some ways, but most of the bands' (and patrons') experience will remain the same.There's a change in the tap list-- The Kraken is not attempting to be an Irish pub-- and they've expanded the role of the kitchen, but the real change is that no one can take this bar away from the people who love it... it is now theirs.
The Kraken on Facebook
Friday, April 27, 2012
On Stage 17 - Measure Twice
A continuing series of insights from the stage at the local club level...
17.
There are a couple of things it never hurts to have extras of: strings, picks, felts (for cymbal stands), drum keys, tremolo arms... the kinds of items that can wear out or get lost on a tour or just at a show. The best thing to have doubles of, for any band with electrical instruments, is cables: extra instrument, power, speaker, and mic cables-- someone always needs one, and it's a wise move to be prepared.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Day 14
Epilogue
We got up really late. I actually got up around 10:00, and, for having partied with Lickity and Aranya people until at least 4:00AM, I felt pretty good (no hangovery type symptoms that can often follow the last show of a tour), but no one else was up. So I laid back down.
We re-started at two in the afternoon. ubik. bought us lunch at Slim's, which is actually a venue we've played before, but most of us are too poor to buy ourselves a road meal. The band's money is separate from our own personal money, but there are no more long drives, and only one tank of gas left to buy. The band can pick up lunch.
We had to scramble to cover a couple things this tour, and the whole thing turned out expensive. We're all holding our breath until our next paychecks after this one. We played a lot of good shows, met a lot of good people, visited plenty of old friends, and had a good time... but the rough patches at the beginning ate up a lot of our traveling money.
I've often said I could just stay on the road-- I really like traveling, my on-stage job is better than my day job, and my apartment is fairly spartan: I own very little furniture, my walls aren't decorated... "home" is the place I go when I'm not doing anything else. The idea of staying on the road works when the band makes enough money to keep itself there-- the looming needs for dentists (half the band has been dabbing their gums with clove oil this tour), doctors, and mechanics highlight the instability of this system. Not saying it can't work... just that I don't know how to make it work smoothly just yet.
Next time, we're doing more prep-work. On the van, on us, on everything. And there will be a next time, oh yes: we plan on going out again next year. Our last tour was in 2009... we're not waiting three years to go out again. ubik. needs to get back to the places we've visited while they're still talking about us. Next spring, we go back... probably cast the net a little wider, cultivate the growing.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Day 13
The World Famous Kenton Club in Portland, OR
with Lickity, Aranya, and Rotties
"I love Portland. Everyone looks
like they just woke up, and they're
all covered in cat hair."
--Michelle
like they just woke up, and they're
all covered in cat hair."
--Michelle
Oh, Portland... I'm not putting on sunblock today. We got breakfast at Beaterville (which, sadly, only has bottomless mimosas on Sundays... I had been saving up for that) and just found our way around Portland. We play in the northeast a lot, so it's the neighborhood we know best.
We stopped off at a tea shop Michelle likes, and three dudes in hoodies walked in, snatched a laptop, and bolted. I just kind of sat there, dumbfounded. The woman who owned the laptop went after them... and so did Joel. He came back in with a bloody hand: the cops are now looking for a car with a smashed windshield on the driver's side (he also got the license plate number.) Being a band, we asked him about playing-- Joel responds "This is not the first time I've punched something with my left hand."
It's an interesting modus operandus: the dudes had Washington plates. Lots of laptops in a tea shop on Alberta, lots of low-key, passive people sitting around (like me; I didn't do shit.) They're probably across the border in Vancouver, WA right now... with a really recognizable car, but still. It might be a stolen car, it might be one of the thieves' (in which case, I hope it costs more to replace the window than they can get from selling a hot laptop,) but it'd be funniest if it's one of their parents' car... with a smashed window and a warrant out. That'd be awesome.
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| The ultimate gear load-out clusterfuck. Wow, there was a lot of gear at this show. |
The night really worked for my pedal geek side; I talked a lot of gear with a variety of people in and around the show. I also played a crunky, old, master-volume tube amp. I really want one of those for Negative Hole type stuff.
The venue itself is pretty great. The show was free and the bands run their own sound, so we all get paid a cut of the bar... there's not money taken out for a sound man or a guy to work the door. Bands get drink tickets (well... they're more like "drink POGs"), the PA is solid, and the room is big enough. Since none of the bands tonight mic'd their cabinets (just turn up and play!), we really didn't want for anything. I was kind of packed into a corner and couldn't hear much while I was playing, but that's just how it goes sometimes-- the consensus from the crowd was that we sounded great.
There was a big gathering at Justin's (from Lickity) house; we were all packed into his living room and porch, drinking and hanging out and listening to music. It's all tour to us, but it really didn't feel like a Wednesday night throughout the group.
I crashed out before the whole thing was done, took my sleeping bag to the basement, and called it a night. A good night sleep and a trip home tomorrow.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Day 12
Sacramento to Portland
There really wasn't much for me to do today-- There are three possible van pilots in the vehicle, and I reserved the morning as "not it!" I sat in the back and did some work (we may be on the road, but there are still project deadlines to meet.) When I finished up, Michelle was long hauling the Cali-Oregon track, so I just stayed in the back, not staring at the perpetual dotted yellow line. Sometimes, sitting shotgun has the same road-hypnosis exhaustion as actually driving.
So, I finished my work, watched the third episode of Legend of Korra (what? we're not savages,) and just kind of nodded off in the back seat. There really wasn't anything else for me: I put on headphones and faded in and out of consciousness.
There was a rest stop where tweakers asked us for "gas money," the pot-bellied dude with the unbuttoned shirt never blinked; his haggard, chatty lady talked through grinding teeth. I gave them the change in my pocket, but I'm not well-funded enough to put in for their, um "gas."
The rest of the trip was Joel driving and Tyler running the music; we got a new tape adapter, so Tyler was running Gojira and Kylesa (and Primus and NIN) off his Sansa. Michelle slept in the back and I kept my headphones on. Still very little for me to contribute.
We opted out of our contact list for the Jupiter Hotel; we rolled into Portland after midnight, so there was a cut rate (so I'm told. I don't have the money for hotels, and left to my own devices, would sleep most nights in the van.) Joel and Tyler went to the bar. There is still some cash in my wallet, but I'm saving it for tomorrow. Tonight, I upload my work on hotel wifi and just sleep.
Tyler has decorated the chalkboard-door.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Day 11
Eli's Mile High Club in Oakland
with Cardinal Wyrm and Spectre
We had the hardest time locking down a Bay Area venue... dunno why. Michelle's been booking this thing for months, making calls, sending e-mails, texts, facebook messages, carrier pigeon, smoke signals, you name it. Eventually she found Eli's, which had a Sunday night open, and said "Reserve me Sunday night. I'll get it booked."
The crowd seemed kind of unresponsive, to me, from up on stage... though my band says I'm being paranoid. It might just be fallout from the house show madness. People clapped and hooted and whistled after the songs, but, to be fair, they were an awful lot like me at a show: I tend to stand with a drink and watch the band. I don't do a lot of emoting when I'm on the floor either, so I really can't complain.
The bartender was cool to me when we loaded in, but everyone tells me he was slagging off the bands loudly, to everyone, from behind the bar, even before the first band went on. Eli's seemed like a pretty good place to be, but they were locking the doors at 11:00 tonight. The bartender was hopping from the stage area to the back patio, flicking the lights on and off, and telling everyone to get the fuck out.
We'd actually misunderstood the timing-- Spectre only played 15 minutes (on Cardinal Wyrm's equipment), and we thought music stopped at 11:00... so we drug our feet setting up, trying to go on at 9:00 or so. We found out before our first song that everything stopped at 11:00PM, music had to be done by 10:15. We had fucked up by not doing our usual, quick, pro, set-up-and-play, and we kind of screwed over Cardinal Wyrm by doing that, but we just plain didn't know. And that bartender just didn't want anyone there-- not bands, not crowds, not drinkers, and certainly not himself. When a club supplies you with free drinks for the show, it's band etiquette to tip the bartenders... but I feel like a chump for having tipped this guy. We cut songs from our set to not hog the short, early-ending stage time; the closing band shouldn't have to suffer because of our misunderstanding and the bar's intolerance.
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| Vegan fortune cookie finger puppets |
Seriously, Oakland is a good town.
Since the show ended so early, we didn't stay-- the Sacramento house was on the way to the next show, and we'd been given an open invite, so we headed north. The tape adapter in the van has gone south (gee, I've only had it for like 8 years), so we actually had to root around for tapes. We found the Decline of the Western Civilization tape, and when it played through and looped, we dug around and found two Judas Priest cassettes: Ram It Down and Unleashed in the East. These are all Michelle tapes, but I love Unleashed in the East... Ram It Down... er... I think Ram It Down appeals to Michelle in the same way WASP does.
Anyway, Joel and I knew some people at the show from back in our California days, and we all drove to Sac together, and sat on the back porch and drank many Hoegaardens.
Tomorrow is a driving day: Sacramento to Portland. About 10 hours.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Day 10
Petaluma and Oakland
We walked through town, maybe 10 degrees cooler than Sacramento, and found a pretty cool tap house. I spent way too much on far too little beer; they had a sour ale on tap, and right now, sour ales are my boom. I'm normally a Hoegaarden guy, and I love my Belgian and German whites, but sour ales are hard to come by and I order them when I can find them.
We returned to Chris' house and played for a while. He has some electric drums, a few guitars, a flatwound fretless 5-string, Lots of cool stuff... but I went to the van to get my ubik.tenor. We closed out jamming with Chris on the 5-string and me going through his Axe effects with a longish echo, doing one of my minor scale echo patterns. It's kind of a low key, sad-sounding bit, and we left a little mopily. Sorry about that, guys.
Rolling into Oakland, we thought we had a spot to crash, but when we got there, everything had dried up. Through a few connections, Michelle got us a place with strangers: Timm from Embers and Greg from Fukm have a place just a few blocks from where we'll be playing.
It is one thing to stay with friends; it is another entirely to crash a stranger's house. These guys were extremely gracious and helpful. They're road veterans, they know what it's like to need a place to stay, and they very generously helped us out.
I should have picked Greg's brain more... I get the feeling that guy has played with everyone. Murder Junkies and Verbal Abuse came up when we were just talking, but I'm positive he's got some stories.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Day 9
Oak Park Boiz House in Sacramento, CA
with 30.06 and (waning)
Hells yes! That is how it's fucking done, son!
After flopping off stage, Joel asked if next tour could be all house shows. It's not a bad idea: house shows are enthusiastic, packed with people that all want to be right where they are and having a good time. If the house puts out a collection plate for us, like they did last night, they will actually support us better than most venues, too. And the show itself was rad-- no setlist, we made it up as we went along, closing with Cyclocosmia because it was 4/20 after all. We decided to forgo the outfits and play in t-shirts; the labcoat would have killed me. Michelle finished the song in an Ian Mackaye crouch, fighting for breath in the sauna. I mopped all the sweat off m'self (and my instrument... yeesh, I could have shorted that thing out with all the sweat pouring off of me) and hopped out into the comparative cool of the Sacramento night.
The night got stonier as it went on: 30.06 brought the old school thrash and tore the place up, then we played, then Waning closed the night with big, enveloping atmospherics. It was a really solid night all around.
The day was spent surviving the heat. Joel bought some sun block after Provo turned me bright red, and it's really come in handy since we've been in California. We hunker, low key, until the sun goes down-- California heat is hard on the cold blooded Seattle lizards.
Camped at a friend's for a few nights, we were just across the street from a laundromat, and the band now has clean socks. That doesn't seem like much when you're at home, but, living out of travel bags, it's pretty easy to get excited about clean socks.
Tomorrow, we head to Oakland.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Day 8
at Shenanigans in Sacramento, CA
with Competing
Wow-- Competing is insane. Crazy techiness that is barely within my comprehension. In hindsight, maybe we should have opened and have them close. Of course, in hindsight, maybe we should have played a heavier set... we lost some people with Bloody Indecision. Then again, we can only be who we are; ubik.s never going to out-grind the truly extreme metal or tech guys. We have big atmosphere. It's who we are. We rock, we're techy, we can even thrash or doom in spots, but we'll never really be a metal band and we know it. We're something else.
It is also hard to rock a crowd without a sound guy. We plugged Michelle in and fired up the mains, but there were no house mics, and no way to put Tyler's kick through the PA. Competing could have used some drum mics too, but we all did what we could with what we had.
With the live sound engineer running late, Competing, an instrumental 3-piece, just started playing. What we didn't know is: the sound guy showed up, saw an instrumental 3-piece on stage, assumed he wasn't needed, turned around and went home. When Competing finished, we asked the booker if the sound guy had shown up yet...
If that was my job (and it is a job, it's something I went to school for, and I know a lot of people who do it every day), I would have seen Competing on stage, thought “Oh shit, I'm late!” and slapped a mic on the kick while they were playing. If it was my job, of course-- I probably would have even turned on the stage lights. Not this guy. He just left.
What an asshole.
Of course, we can all fend for ourselves, and we played well. I couldn't hear Michelle at all because Shenanigans' board... well, I know where the mains are, and we got vocals into the crowd an one monitor, but the aux busses that looked like they had to be the separate monitor/PA sends... no matter what I did with them, they never fed any more speakers. Dunno why.
 |
| Yeah... thanks sound guy. We didn't need a kick mic... or lights... or... for you to show up or anything |
I've never asked, but I'm positive Wes has a broadsword.
All that considered, we had more people there than I'd expected, we sounded pretty good (kick drum notwithstanding), and we're starting to play like we're on tour. We're not quite at “well-oiled machine” status yet, but we're definitely warmed up. The people who dug it, really dug it.
The day was spent surviving Sacramento heat. I was drenched in sweat doing nothing. We mostly kept to ourselves, staying indoors with Ben, who's putting us up, and dogs. It's basically too hot to move right now. I'll bet it's still jacket weather back in Seattle.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Day 7
Driving Nevada
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| Nevada Mountains Tesco Vee is our co-pilot |
Michelle started the day; I finished it. We rolled into Sacramento around 1:00AM. I've said I'm comfortable with night driving-- I am, and I stand by that-- but I-80 west was a clusterfuck of barely-going-35 uphill to “6% grade next 5 miles – 50 mph recommended.” Michelle called me a nervous driver, and for this leg, I definitely was: I can do 18 hours straight behind the wheel, but even the huge mountain passes of Oregon and California are highways... I-80 was two lanes, tight, curvy, under construction, and I was either struggling to climb or riding the brakes. It's not a fun way to pull a low-slung trailer full of heavy band gear.
My favorite moment of the night was rolling up on the Cali border "are you carrying any fruits or vegetables" checkpoint. There was only one lane open, and I pulled up, kinda fried from hours of driving. The woman at the gate asked "Where are you coming from?"
My mind went blank. We came from SLC, but we're from Seattle. What should I...
"Seattle," says Michelle, from the passenger seat.
"Could you open the trailer for me?"
"Sure," I say. I can answer this question. I am a medulla oblongata and a spinal cord at this point, but I've got nothing to hide. "Two hours to Sacramento" is the only actual thought I can manifest.
I hop out, head to the trailer, and...
*HONK*
A shiny, white, jacked-up pickup truck behind us in line honks its horn. Dude, I think, it wasn't my idea to get out and open the trailer.
*HONK*
He does it again. The cop that stands with the woman at the checkpoint (she's not wearing California Highway Patrol gear; I don't know what her official capacity is) approaches the truck. "Did you just honk your horn?" he asks the idiot in the truck.
By this time I had popped the trailer and given everyone a quick glance of our cabinets, amps, drums, and hardware. They sent us off without incident.
Minutes later, a jacked-up, white pickup blasts past us. A few seconds after that, a police car speeds after the truck. A few seconds more: we roll past the idiot receiving his roadside interview. I have no idea what his big damn hurry was, but The Man in the Douchey Truck picked the worst possible method of getting to his destination quickly. Robert Heinlein said "Stupidity is the only universal capital crime; the sentence is death, there is no appeal, and execution is carried out automatically and without pity," but he wrote it before the CHP started getting between Death and the stupid. Now stupidity is punishable by a date in traffic court.
Anyway...
I-80 is made more fun by a trailer whose left side lights go out when I hit the brakes or a broken passenger-side mirror (we taped in a replacement and adjusted its pitch and yaw with rocks and bottle caps. I wish I was kidding.) Oddly enough, the last tour also had a van with a non-functional passenger side mirror... merging right was an exorcise in teamwork. Right now, with the last bottle cap in place (under the zebra duct tape, to crank it up a bit), the driver can actually see! Woo!
All of the Utah money is gone-- a couple hundred bucks got us across Nevada and left us in Sac with a quarter tank of gas. We have two shows in this town; no long hauls, and two nights to put money in the tank. Oakland to Portland will be another all-day drive, but the next three shows ought pay for the trip. I wish this weren't such a huge part of tour this time... last tour, gas was two bucks and change, now it's four dollars plus. Mileage costs have doubled since last time, and after blowouts and tows, a low-income show could actually sink us.
Still, we're crashing with a friend just a few blocks from tomorrow's show. We're here.
I never thought I'd say this but: I'm thrilled to be in California. I've been on the west coast nearly half my life now, and I never spent much time thinking about not being on the coast. Crossing the mountains and landing in Sac has been a relief I was not expecting. Don't get me wrong-- we had good shows in Utah, and spent time with good people, but the gestalt of our days in Idaho and Utah (and even the over-the-Rockies side of Washington and Oregon) seemed to be more limiting than expansive.
Or maybe California is just making me write like a hippie.
We're not homesick or anything after a single week, but we did play a lot of local metal in transit: Same Sex Dictator, Phalgeron, and Black Breath balanced out Beastie Boys, Bane, Devo, Gwar, and Cake (don't judge us.) The van stereo is usually run by whoever's sitting shotgun, so today was a lot of me and Michelle.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Day 6
at Burt's Tiki Lounge in Salt Lake City, UT
with Delphic Quorum, Nine Worlds, and Sky as Sin
Probably the best compliment ever to come my way was "By the time you were done, my face hurt from smiling so much." I've actually described The Fabulous Downey Brothers that way on more than one occasion, but I've never heard anyone say something like that about ubik. before.
One of the anxieties surrounding tour is that I never have any idea how our band of nerdy weirdos is going to be received in a new state, new town. We've never been to Utah before and... well... this place is not known as a free-wheeling music hub. The response we've received here is pretty stunning... and this was playing to virgin crowds. Coming back, now that people know who we are, it'll be even stronger.
And we got paid! Not to sound shallow, but the Seattle-->Ellensburg-->Boise-->Ogden without any shows was killing us. Gas is expensive, the tow was expensive, tires are expensive... without making some money in Utah, there might not have been enough gas to get us to Sacramento. That kind of thing can be pretty scary.
Burt's Tiki Lounge is a pretty damn cool bar: it reminds me a bit of The Funhouse. The bartender was a really laid back, punk rock girl from whorescorpse, who had a kung fu movie (Drunken Dragon) on a loop and got us all beers after we played. Good room, good stage; I'd definitely play there again.
We got off to a late start this morning because Glen's apartment is an insulated Man Cave: it was something like 2:00 before we got up because there was no daylight. Still, Provo is less than an hour from SLC, and we weren't hurting for time.
It's hard to play varied sets when we've been sitting around for so long-- I'm glad we blew the dust off of these songs over the last two days, because we can go into them now without the unrehearsed fear of what parts we may or may not remember.
Tonight, we get to stay with Alex, from Settle Down and Nine Worlds... where the dogs run free! Yay! We had picked up normal-strength beer at a Provo liquor store, and I drank Hoegaarden, ate a taco, and played with dogs. Tomorrow, we have to cross Nevada to get to Thursday's Sacramento show.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Day 5
at Muse Music in Provo, UT
with Delphic Quorum, Settle Down, and Radio Broadcast
Finally-- on the road this long and we're finally allowed to plug in again. I can't say a Monday night show in Provo draws a huge crowd, but people did come out, liked the set, and we made some gas money. The other bands were cool, too: Alex from Nine Worlds is part of Settle Down, which was described to me as "hardcore," but their extravagant pedalboards and intricate echo riffs pretty easily define them as something else entirely. The Delphic Quorum is... wow... they rock really hard with spoons, a djembe, trombone, violin, banjo, theremin... I'm going to try to get video of them when we play with them in Salt Lake City.
Muse Music cafe looks like a coffee shop, but they don't serve caffeine. The bar has the flavored syrups you'd expect to put in espresso drinks... but... okay, I'm not surprised by the cafe being all ages, and not serving alcohol... but, no caffeine in the cafe? On an unrelated note, the LDS calls Provo, Utah, home.
It was nice to have a non-driving day. It's a short hop from Ogden to Provo, and we were in town early in the afternoon, with lots of time to kill. We bought some jewel cases and put together about 50 copies of A Hideous Triumph of Form and Function while feeding endless dollars into the ABG's jukebox.
We wandered into a tattoo parlor to ask where we could find a bar, since we'd walked all over town and hadn't seen a pub. ABG seemed okay, but it was silent in there until we started feeding the jukebox. All the beer in this state has been watered down to 3%, and the pour from liquor bottles is metered by some automatic device-- a "single" here could be labled "so weak you can't tell an orange juice from a screwdriver in a blind taste test." That's not the bar's fault, but it does affect the act of sitting and having a drink in a Utah pub.
We crashed with Glen from Delphic Quorum, which led to some pretty normal post-show behavior: we sat around with people we played with, listened to music, worked through a rack of Pabst. It's warm enough here that I didn't unpack my sleeping bag, I just crashed on some cushions... though, in the night, it got cooler. Still, it wasn't sleeping bag weather, so I slept under my ubik. labcoat.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Day 4
in Ogden, UT
Our first official day off, i.e, one where we didn't have a show scheduled. Gak. I will be so happy to play a show tomorrow. Overjoyed, actually.
Sunday afternoons on Boise's Main Street are much nicer than Saturday nights. Michelle snuck into Radio Boise and delivered one of our CDs-- the DJ was very nice to her, and sympathetic to our situation.
We also found the Neurolux, which was quiet in the afternoon, but is a decent sized venue (good stage, separate monitor for the drums... I'd totally play there). It was the second jukebox in a row where the bartender perked up when we put on Ween.
This is the easiest way to get the feel of a place: see how they react to Ween. Anti-Ween sentiment is never a good sign.
Mostly, we found some cool places to be in Boise: good venues, those cats at the Neurolux were awesome people, and we're coming back. We owe Spokane a make-up show, too, so later this summer we hope to make a Seattle-Spokane-Boise-Portland circle, just to right all the wrongs.
We spent the day on the road... just rolling south. I've never been to Utah before, but the north part of the state is the emptiest country I've ever seen. There is literally nothing there. Until you get to Ogden, the exits all say "no services." Down every road, for hundreds of miles, the freeway exits are no gas, no food, no lodging anywhere. Just fields, fences, and hills.
We stopped in Ogden, and Michelle bought a hotel room-- we have to play tomorrow, and her voice is in better shape after a good night's sleep. And showers. I was starting to smell like I was rotting. Not sleeping in the van + showers = win.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Day 3
in Boise, ID
Les Schwab had one kind of tire that fit the van, and they were “premium.” Read: “A lot more than normal people will spend on tires.” Tour is expensive; we did sell a CD to a guy at Les Schwab.
There was absolutely nothing around us but fast food, gas stations, and wind. Staggering to a gas station in desperate need of a Vitamin Water (or something... anything... to combat the after effects of last night's consolation drinking binge) the wind nearly knocked me over. Welcome to the high desert.
I barely made it to the salvation of Shell station rehydration... I slept in the van, crawled out, and made my way slowly down the block only to be interrupted by "Sir? Sir!"
People only call me sir when they want something.
"Is that your van?"
This conversation could have gone one of two ways: I could have broke down, crying, and pleading "I just need some water and an asprin!" It went the other way-- I moved the van to where they wanted it, I stumbled into the office, and I had what might pass as a conversation with the woman behind the Les Schwab counter. I spotted Joel rounding the corner, drug him into the office, and replaced myself with someone who could stand, under his own power, without leaning. Okay: Shell station.
I was pretty useless for most of the afternoon, sleeping, and listening to Metric. I probably wasn't supposed to be in the van while they were jacking it up and installing $300 worth of tire, but no one woke me up, so...
For the record, don't do any booking with the toomuchdistortion@wherever.com; Michelle had been corresponding with him for weeks, had a show booked, and he fell silent about two weeks before tour. No response on emails or facebook messages... we eventually raised him on the phone to have him tell us he “just didn't know” about the show. And so here we are, with no show on a Saturday night.
We told this to Eric (from Slave Traitor), our on-the-road merch guy and tour companion, and the toomuchdistortion guy did the same thing to Slave Traitor. We lost Eric this morning due to bloody puke, and he's back in Seattle by now. Michelle suggests he might not have been prepared for how nerdy we can be, too, but blood in the vomit and other tubercular symptoms pretty much demand a somewhat healthier lifestyle than we're living right now.
Saturday night in Boise was kind of creepy, and Main Street was packed with a Pioneer Square kind of crowd. We found a bar that wasn't too crazy, with no cover, and a funk rock band... which actually wasn't bad. None of us really perk up when someone offers us "funk rock," but the band was talented: tight bass, a good trumpeter, lots of 70s covers. By comparison, the piped-in music on the patio was unbearable.
At the end of the night, we actually met the booker who screwed us-- it was his birthday, and he'd just come from a show, which makes all of his excuses for canceling on us sound even sketchier. We probably could have crashed on his floor (he owed us that much), but it didn't seem like a very good idea: the bartender at The Red Room says his last birthday saw him naked in the street, and we just wanted to get some sleep.
We rolled into a residential neighborhood with street parking, pulled out sleeping bags, and crashed in the van.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Day 2 (or... why am I in Ellensburg?)
in Ellensburg, WA
So... not being superstitious... Friday the 13th? What. The. Holy. Living. Fuck?
Long story short: we failed to make it to a show. First time ever, but ubik. didn't make showtime. We left town late due to myriad circumstances, but after getting Pam's 8x10, securing the trailer (more involved than it seems), we finally hit the road and headed east... Of all things that can go wrong with the Band Van, tires are probably the easiest to cope with: we handled a commando tire change with aplomb, but the spare was as worn as the tire that blew. We never made it to Spokane, and it cost us $250 to get the van and trailer hauled back to Ellensburg.
Our Friday was spent getting to a rest stop and waiting for a while. We did everything we could, and we're all kind of pissed that we have to abandon the “ubik. has never canceled a show” motto. We did our level best, but fell severely short. We're currently camped in a creepy, cheap motel, watching cable access.
Worse, our Boise show has fallen through; there's nothing out here for us until Monday, in Utah. We're on tour, after playing a kickoff on Thursday, and we're not playing shows on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday-- we pick back up on Monday (an awesome day for shows) in Utah (oh, goody). The Utah shows will actually be really good: we have great local bands, people we've played with in Seattle and always loved, but I'm grumpy about missing Spokane. The Spokane show was going to kick ass, had we made it, and we can deal with the money, but... there was a rad show there, and we missed it. We are pissed.
There are very few perks to a Friday stranded in Ellensburg. Cowboy hats abound, and last call usually happens around midnight. When we hit the road, I mentioned that one of the great things about Seattle is being able to find good beer at 7-11s and gas stations (“it costs $10.50 a six-pack, but it's still Hoegaarden,” I say. “You're spoiled,” they reply), but our choice of bars in Ellensburg was a bit sad.
A guy in funny glasses showed us his spider. He was the guy in giant comedy glasses, affixed with asymmetrical googly eyes. He, and his two friends (Big Girl and Slayer Shirt Guy), were the highlights of the bar... I am certain that “walking distance of the freeway exit” is not the definition of this small town, having lived in small towns myself, but we're not within reach of the homes, schools, jobs, and lives of Ellensburg: we're part of freeway culture. We get what we can while waiting for new tires.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Day 1
at The Comet
w/ Princess, Elk Rider, and Kinski
Tour kickoffs are funny things... they're in your home town, so you haven't hit the road yet. They're in the place where all your friends live, so they generally have a good crowd, and you get to sleep in your own bed (and have a reliable shower) one last time. It's a normal show, and then it's also not a normal show, because it is still the beginning of the tour.
The “oh shit, here we go!” factor really contributes to that; today was the day we reclaimed the van from the mechanic, and receiving a The van is fucked text from Joel two hours before the show doesn't really inspire joyous feelings. I'd spent the day getting my stuff in order, buying travel-sized stuff and making sure I had another black tie for the stage outfit, and then that text comes in...
I should have bought a travel-sized Pepto Bismol. (They had some-- it's right next to the travel-sized Purel)
With the van in the shop, there was a real concern that it wouldn't be ready-- since we practice right around the corner from The Comet, we can (and have, if needed) just walk our gear over to the venue. It's not ideal, but it's doable. I'd prefer that idiots with pry bars didn't cause The van is fucked messages at all, but I am relieved that it's an instrument panel and not the engine that inspires them.
On with the show-- our kickoff coincided with ChoiceFest's first day, so Ladies Choice Productions set us up with a really cool line-up (thanks, Adam!), and the opener, Princess, shares members with the band that sort of discovered ubik... which is to say, it was really good to see Andrew again. I even wore my Keeper shirt (the “Obey the Wizard” one-- I wear it to work when I can, because no one argues with you when you have the word OBEY printed across you in big, block letters).
It seemed like everyone suffered from technical difficulties: Princess borrowed a Kinski guitar (the guitar went dead), Kinski borrowed one of my cables (the guitar went dead), and we... well, Joel's cabinet caught fire again. This was meant to be the triumphant return of Joel's Ampeg 8x10, which burst into flames on Christmas 2010, and had to be drug outside as we pulled hunks of flaming insulation out of the cabinet. Since then, it's gotten eight new speakers, it's been rewired, and given a flash new paint job.
In the middle of the third song, I smelled smoke, and there was no low end. We finished the set with Kinski's bass cab... we really owe them for that. We'd have been cut short after two songs if Kinski didn't bail us out. From there on, the show went off without a hitch; it was a good show, good crowd, good night all in all.
Still, better this kind of thing happens before we leave Seattle, while we can still course-correct for the tour. Pam (who plays in Scyphozoa with Tyler) has a Behringer 8x10 she's willing to loan us for the trip, so she's officially saved the tour.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
The Funhouse
a new stage and sound system that make the place a real joy to play... seriously, that is a good stage to be on. It's a medium-sized club, but big enough some fairly big touring acts (I saw Kylesa a here a little while back), and it'll usually have a pretty large show on a Friday or Saturday night.The club treats the bands well-- backstage is a large hang-out room, often with an iced tub of beers (well, that or drink tickets)-- and the stage monitors are in good shape. Depending on who's running sound on any given day, the mix both on stage and in the crowd can be top notch.Of course, sound guys come and go, but the staff at The Funhouse is pretty much excellent; the people at the door and behind the bar are some of the best in town.
Mondays are dollar beer days, which brings up another point: this is a place to grab a drink, even if you're not there on a show night. Sitting beside the EMP and Seattle Center, this was our bar of choice when finding an escape from the grounds of Bumbershoot. There's a side door to patio, with a basketball court, providing a reprieve for both smokers and people dodging the awful band on an otherwise awesome line-up. On non show days, the bartenders are usually providing better music (for free!) than the internet jukebox, and there are some pretty decent drink specials. All in all, a pretty great bar for bands, show attendees, and general bar patrons.
If I'm gushing, it's probably because the recent proposal to raze this place has brought my love for it into sharp focus. There are a number of strategies to save the Funhouse (in a building dating back to the 30s, it could be considered a historical building; it could also be proven relevant as an active component of Seattle culture that brings in performers from around the world), but I encourage people to keep abreast of the situation. The Save the Funhouse page on Facebook is probably the most complete and current source for this kind of information.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
On Stage #16 - Coping
A continuing series of insights from the stage at the local club level...
16.
Shit happens. Not to sound
cliche, but not every show goes exactly how you want-- line-ups
shift, gear fails, things go wrong... the real test is how you deal
with it, adapt to the problem, and continue with the show. On a
scale of 0 (having a temper tantrum and storming out) to 10 (moving
on with no negative side effects whatsoever), I usually rate a
4-7... but I'm working on it.
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