Classics of Love Conclusion: May 14th-18th

Editor's Note:

This last entry has taken forever to put up. I apologize.

May 14th - Seven, Nottingham

Took a shower early and probably used up all the hot water for the day. The assurance of a good shower is not always a common thing, so when given the opportunity to take a fairly long one on tour I tend to abuse the privilege. Jen's mother provided us with tea and cereal while Mike and Jesse talked to the kids about their band Dip Dap.

Caught a faulty train out of Glasgow and ended up having to transfer after having lost plenty of time simply sitting on the rails. Had another Kit Kat Senses and was equally pleased with it as I was the day before. On the ill-fated first train a guy started talking to us from across the aisle in one of the most incomprehensible accents I've ever heard. He obviously meant well but was a bit tossed and wouldn't stop talking. Normally I wouldn't particularly mind but it was so difficult to understand him that the entire thing was more laborious than conversational. He could tell we were in a band and wanted to talk about music--Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, and Led Zeppelin, specifically. I also began plans to (try and) put together an online, San Jose only Asian Man compilation. Thus far I only have a few things in mind, but I'm planning on doing a month (or thereabouts) of shows and getting a zine I had in mind going. There are lots of corners of San Jose that I know next to nothing about musically, so the goal is to actually seek out the good stuff. That means probably going to MACLA, the Gingerbread House, Nickel City, Johnny V's, and any number of other places as much as humanly possible. It will probably be equally tiring as it is interesting, but I think its something which should be done.

Had a short walk to another train station where we finally caught the one leading us to Nottingham. On the way there some guy seated with Max and Mike taught them a card game called Blackjack (not the casino game) and then showed them a picture of his girlfriend naked. Blackjack is a good game. Like Crazy Eights but with more wacky rules. Finally made it to Nottingham and Gaz, the promoter, walked us from the station to the club. A significant portion of the walk was up a pretty steep hill again. Good exercise. I am noticing, however, that my ability to really take in a city has been diminishing since Aberdeen. Both Glasgow and Nottingham I feel like I hardly got a feel for at all. There have just been so many cities, and such a short amount of time in each of them. Especially today with the train malfunction--by the time we got there we hardly had any time to do anything but soundcheck before the show started. I was a little out of it--couldn't really get a feel for what time it was, couldn't tell how anything sounded up on stage--just out of it in general. Went to the chip shop with Morgan and Mike, somewhat begrudgingly. I was hoping to find an M&S or something so I could avoid fried food for the day, but that wasn't in cards. Still kept it to more or less a minimum, at least.

The first performer was a Smiths-y acoustic guy with a mohawk who was actually pretty good. We played again with Mr. Shiraz, one of the strange sort of fratty ska bands who played with us in London. Our set felt very natural this time--the pieces are fealling more and more into place for us as a unit, I think (as lame as that sounds). Afterwards Gaz and his girlfriend put us up at their place, which is an enormous flat above a pub called The Maze that Gaz is partial owner of. When we got there Parisa, a very cute persian girl, was helping to clean up and close down the pub, some of their friends came by, and everyone ended up hanging out in the closed pub, having drinks, smoking cigarettes and talking about ska. Very nice atmosphere. Parisa and I ended up staying up until around 5.30 making lists of books and films for each other to check out, which was a very sweet, innocent experience. Finally got in bed up in the apartment while the sun was getting pretty noticeable in the sky.

May 15th - Newcastle College Performance Academy, Newcastle

Slept for about 4, maybe 4.5 hours. According to Jesse's theory of sleep cycles, this means that I was better rested than if I had slept for 6. Maybe he's right. I felt surprisingly good in the morning. After a bit of putting around, he, Mike and and I went to find an exchange bureau to get some American dollars for the pounds we'd been carrying. It was raining pretty heavily to begin with, but let up halfway into our search. I ended up with a decent amount just on the per diems I'd been saving. Tried to think of something to say to Parisa since she had also slept there and was working in just the other room from where we were all drinking tea and watching Top Gear. Again, Jesse thinks he might have blown his voice out a bit, so the show for that night in Newcastle seemed a bit up in the air still at that point. Only two more after that. I wasn't really missing home very much, but I figured it would be at least a little nice (and a little strange) to return for a while. So much had been happening to us, and it felt like we were inching more and more towards a full time thing, so the prospect of returning home, where I had no real desire to do anything, seemed a bit unfortunate. But a bit of a rest was definitely needed. There was still the Gilman show, recording with Hard Girls, the occasional subbing gig, and working back down in Santa Cruz a couple days of the week to think about. So it wasn't entirely returning home to a blank slate, it was just feeling that way as it loomed in front of me.

On the trains to Newcastle I tried, somewhat uncomfortably, to sleep and finally did for a little while. On the second train I had a dream that Morgan was incredibly into this horrible, lamely dark electronic group. In the dream we were all in some house and he was in the next room, listening to the same song over and over. It was the first time I can remember waking up laughing because the song was so stupid sounding. When I woke I wrote the lyrics down. I'm going to try and record it to the best of my abilities sometime soon.

The show was at the Newcastle Performance Academy, which was a little weird. It was a room in the recording and sound part of the college, and we ended up having a "dressing room" and everything. Anthony, the promoter, walked us over from the train station where Jesse got some rest for his voice, and the rest of us went to a sub par chip shop in town after searching unsuccessfully for a grocery store.

Both openers were really nice guys. One, ONSIND (One Night Stand in North Dakota [though where they got this name I have no idea]), Mike had played with before and really enjoyed. His set, afterwards, was hilariously ponderous--probably about 60% stories which seemed to go absolutely nowhere. People enjoyed it, and Max and I both thought it was really funny, and when he did play songs in between stories of how you "see strange things sometimes" it sounded good. We played a pretty short set since Jesse's voice was hurting him, but it turned out well. Mike shared vocal duties on "the Crowd" which looked really cool, I thought.

After the set we all went back to Anthony's--half of us in the most circuitous taxi ride ever--and ended up watching most of the first season of "the Inbetweeners" which is a completely hilarious British show. Similar to Arrested Development in delivery, but much racier, and just really good in general. Its the best new show I've seen in a while.


Two very funny guys

People were still over, partying until pretty late, but around 2.30 or 3 everyone had finally caught taxis back home and I went to sleep on the living room couch.

May 16th - Little Wonder, Harrogate

Watched another episode of the Inbetweeners in the morning, finishing off the first season (only 6 episodes). Took a bath (since there was no shower at Anthony's), which was pretty refreshing, then we all caught a local train to the Newcastle central station. Had a croissant and treated myself to a cookie before taking the train to Yoke: home of Nestle. On the train we played a couple of rounds of Blackjack and then a group of Scottish guys across the aisle started talking to us, who were also on their way to York. They had already been drinking a good deal and were headed to York for a night out (this was at 2pm). We talked for a while and one ended up joining in on a couple hands of blackjack, telling us about his failed attempt to play soccer professionally in New York and growing rather pensive and wistful while doing so. Despite how drunk he already was, he was a fun guy to talk to and actually won a hand or two of blackjack even though he had never played it before.

Upon reaching the York station we found out that we had to take another bus to get to Harrogate for the night's show. The ride was pleasant enough and there ended up being a few American military types who started talking to us, one who actually showed up to the show even though he was admittedly a bit out of place. I don't think any of us are very supportive of militarism in general, and especially given the twisted form the American military has taken in the past decade, but its much easier to hate a group than it is a single person. This guy was genuinely nice, offered to put us up, and came to his first punk show ever just because we met on a bus. We were all more or less able to put aside ethical differences given the specifics.

When we got to the Harrogate station I took a quick walk into town with Mike and Jesse while we waited for the promoter to pick us up. Ducked into an M&S (which had pretty much become my favorite store) and got a salad, then met Luke, Simon, and Ozzie at the train station and got a ride to their place. Once there we relaxed for a bit. I had a bowl of cornflakes while Mike and Simon talked about pro wrestling. Apparently Mike is a big fan. We watched a truly abysmal funny-animal-Christmas-special which, for whatever reason, had an American host speaking in British parlance over clips exclusively from America. Pretty much like a slurry of the worst America's Funniest Home Videos: Shitty Pets Edition from the late 1980s, all sent from depressing southern families. Good times. While it was on I browsed the collection of dime paperbacks on UFOs, Atlantis, Uri Gellar, and the like that Luke had been bequeathed by his grandfather. I guess the guy was a pretty egalitarian fan of the occult. Jesse opted to go all vocal for the night, so I learned a few of his guitar parts while the rest of the group watched an awful special on the 100 Greatest Bands of All Time.

Felt distinctly gloomy during most of the night. I'm not sure what it was exactly, but it was a very pressing feeling. Once we got to Little Wonder I left and walked around town for quite some time, getting back just as the first band was finishing. In Newcastle people were talking about how people in Harrogate would be building human pyramids during out set...which none of us could really picture, but ended up being entirely true. What happens is, instead of moshing (or concurrently with) someone would throw themselves on the ground, and in less than 5 seconds, a human pyramid would be erected. Its uncanny. A small space just clears and people just spontaneously (and compulsively) throw themselves into a general human pyramid. Our set was pretty crazy, pyramids being built faster than Napoleon could use them for target practice; near constant crowd surfing. Jesse brought a chair with him on stage for his Siegfried and Roy routine (and to stand on at certain times). My gloominess which had stuck around all night just completely dissipated during our set. There was just no way to be gloomy during that set.

After the set I hung out upstairs, drinking and chatting with two people who turned out to have been on ecstasy the entire night (I thought they were just being friendly to me!). I finally got into bed on the fold out couch in the room and tried to sleep while they continued to talk, drink, and watch band documentaries until somewhere around 8 in the morning. At 10, Mike woke me.

May 17 - Barfly, London

Fresh off no sleep, Mike woke me up for the date of our last show on the tour. We fumbled around briefly downstairs before getting a ride back to the station from Simon, Luke and Ozzie. Ozzie brought his very cute puppy with him too. I got to hear stories of how everyone else went out to a club the night before, got free drinks and talked to very attractive girls while I had been trying to cover my head with my pillow to drown out the noises of Sublime videos in the ecstasy chamber. That was not one of the best choices I've made, ending up in that room.

Two trains back to London. Slept a decent amount on the second and woke up just before we pulled into the King's Cross station. Then it was a nearly identical walk to the one we had done back on the way to the Waterloo station the date of the Kingston show, except that this time we veered to the right and made our way through Camden town, where people strolled about at a nightmarishly slow pace and every shop had "I(heart)London" shirts on sale.

Because we had left so early we go to the Barfly hours before we needed to and ended up pitching camp in a Subway by the club so Mike could get his cheap food. Morgan, Max and I went to a chip shop down the road and all got fish and chips. Eventually we met back up and went into Barfly, dropping our stuff off and meeting the guys from Sharks, who were also playing that night. I walked back into Camden, ostensibly to get some air, but really just wandering through the shops trying to find some Fall merchandise. Again no luck, despite the swath of little booths selling punk shirts. Apparently my stomach had shrunk considerably since we left because I couldn't even come close to finishing lunch and was full for the rest of the day. When I came back things had moved along a bit and we were able to load everything up to the dressing rooms--of which there were two: one for us, and one for everyone else (including Mike Park, who was listed on the signs as "Mike Sparks"). I restrung my guitar and read a bit more of Darkness at Noon, then went down to watch Sharks, Mike and King Blues. We had been hearing about King Blues endlessly since arriving, as they seem to have been blowing up in the UK. Almost everyone knew them--Christianne and Stu (who came bearing Jesse's guitar!), Gaz and Parisa, Sye and Pepe--and they seemed to cast a bit of a shadow on our whole tour from the wings. They are certainly good performers and all very nice guys, too. The singer (along with the promoter) ended up putting us up for the night. Their last song, which was equal parts slam poetry, ominous jam, Back to the Future imagery, and punk banner waving, was actually quite touching and I felt a legitimate chill as it was reaching its climax. They seem to be doing well for themselves and I hope they're able to continue to do so.

I think we really gave it our all that night. Again, Mike joined us for the conclusion, and in the last song Jesse lifted me into the audience (which can now be seen on YouChube). Got to see some nice, familiar faces, chatted a bit with a cute girl from the band Blank Heads, and then we were off for our final night all tucked into a small living room. I went out like a light the second I put my earplugs in.

May 18th

I slept through the "disco alarm" and woke only a few minutes before our cab came to take us to Heathrow for our trip back home. I think I'm being realistic when I say that this has been quite a successful tour, even if we didn't bring huge crowds to all the shows. We got our live act pretty well worked out and met some great people along the way. Bands invariably always say this kind of bullshit but I don't think any of us are yet jaded enough to say it in anything but earnest. The time flew by and yet it also feels like we were gone for quite some time. If we could have stayed another month I would have done it in a heartbeat. It felt like things were finally going somewhere--I wasn't coming home broke, I was in significantly better shape than when I left, the band starting playing better together, our sets were a bit less wobbly, we recorded for the BBC and saw England, Scotland, and Wales. Whatever intrinsic quality makes us all feel the need to play music to the detriment of everything else in our lives actually felt as though it served a decent use this time. We are all people and we are all in pain, but we all felt pretty good at the end of the tour about what we had done--even if we had to return to shitty jobs, frustrating situations at home, and a city which would rather see high end condos go in even during a recession than see one ounce of art survive in the general 40 mile radius. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, food, sane conversation, and female affection, but as I sat writing in the airport, waiting for our gate to open and to board the plane back, I felt, for the first time in a while, like things were going in the right direction.

Classics of Love: May 10th-14th

May 10th - The Croft, Bristol

Took a shower before we headed off for the train. Kat is a really sweet girl, but it seems like she has some problems maintaining friends, which always makes me sad to see. There are certain people who I think just need to reign in a bit of their personality at times for the sake of keeping up good relationships with others. I'm not sure if this is the case with her or if things really are just as tough and cruel as she says, but I couldn't help but be reminded of similar situations I've seen people in. Either way its a shame. She walked us to the train station, with a short stop at the grocery store, and then we were off. Even though I don't feel like I personally spoke with her all that much she seemed very sincere when she said that she didn't want us to leave. Swansea is a great place and I hope it starts to treat her a bit better.

Had to take another rail replacement bus from Newport to Bristol Parkway (the same bus we caught out last time, only going the other way), then a short, very packed train ride to Bristol central. From what I saw of Bristol right off the bat, it reminded me a good deal of Portland--fairly spread out, very clean feeling in certain areas (much less so in others). Had a good 20-30 minute walk to the Croft, which is a cool little pub/restaurant/record shop/venue with a gig room in the back. When we got there, The Zatopeks, the other band, was already there and all seemed like cool, easy going guys. Something about the walk really took it out of me so I ended up taking a pretty weak nap on one of the sofas inside. When I woke up (again, feeling a bit strange) I could hear the Zatopeks sound checking, sounding really good. Someone told me that Larry Livermore said they were the best band in England, which is pretty high praise.

I was considering not eating but when I woke everyone else was being fed Sunday pork roast, so partially as something to keep myself busy with I went to a little takeaway place down the road and got a truly insane portion of fish and chips. Every place I've gone to has been slightly more ludicrous than the last, but this time the inmates had just taken over the asylum. Barely ate half of the inch and a half thick cod fillet and still couldn't finish the chips after sharing them with everyone and then trying for a second round with them. It was Pacquiao/Hatton all over again. By the time I threw in the towel on that one, I could hear Mike Scott playing his last song and I groggily cleaned up after myself and went to catch the Zatopeks. When they started playing it was immediately like a revelation. They're just a simple pop-punk band but somehow they just do everything right. I've heard people say that about the Ergs, but the Ergs bore me to death. Something about the Zatopeks just did it, though. They blew through their set with such elan and ease, and no matter how simple the singer's antics were he just looked so fucking cool doing them. I could see why Larry Livermore liked them so much. Max and I were both just flabbergasted. If I had known the songs when they played it probably would have been totally exhilarating.


Insane portions of fish and chips!

Mike played a good set afterwards, sort of fumbled a bit on a song he hadn't played in a long time but it overall went well. We played what I thought was a pretty good set. Jesse's voice was starting to go a bit but I felt like we really went for it. Afterwards I talked jazz for a while with the drummer of the Zatopeks who ended up knowing a good amount of really cool stuff. He also plays drums in a trio that he said was pretty Bill Evans-y. We chatted about Rasheed Ali and John Zorn while loading out and then we had to get running to Dave, the promoter's, house. Before we left Max bought a Tortoise, Bonnie Prince Billy collaboration album.

Almost everyone we had been staying with had been tremendously gracious, but also happened to live about 30 minutes up a hill from where we played, then up about 3 flights of stairs, and Dave was anything but an exception. This one was absolutely grueling, but it made lying down all the better when we finally got to his place. Mike had spoken very highly of the Bouncing Souls documentary, and Dave owned it, so we ended up sitting around and watching that before bed. It was pretty endearing, even though I've never listened to them, but I didn't find it quite as effective as Mike did. After that it was lights out on our respective mattress cushions.

May 11th - Victoria Inn, Derby

Jesse's voice was pretty shot in the morning. We're definitely going to need to do at least one day off here and there next time we tour.

We were set to take the 2 o'clock train to Derby but everyone needed to do laundry so we decided to leave earlier and try to find a place there. We piled into Dave's van and he graciously drove us back down to the Bristol Temple Meads station where we caught the 12.30 train off. Hit up a little corner store first and got some food (peanuts, granola bar, apple, water) and ate on the train. I was still really stuffed up. I think whatever allergens are in the air got me all stuffy, instead of sneezy like I get at home.

As Mike had told us previously, the venue was literally across the street from the train station, so there was very little work involved in getting there. The Victoria Inn is a real nice place. Lots of bands have played there, as can be seen when looking at their walls adorned with photos. Chas' band played there. So did the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Lots of bands! Once we dropped off our stuff, Max and I looked around the city center (stopping first to argue about the nature of slight rights and slight lefts), checking for a thrift store, and bumping into Jesse along the way. At an Oxfam I bought Darkness at Noon for £2 since I was almost done with the Machado and Mike had my copy of A Scanner Darkly. Jesse picked up the Anthony Kietis autobiography since he thought it would probably be an interesting read (not necessarily because he was the biggest RHCP fan). Realistically, the guy does seem to have some pretty interesting things happen to him. We found a Primak afterwards where Jesse bought 2 more jumpers (he'd lost 4 now), and Max and I looked for beanies (he'd lost 2, I'd lost 1). In the end Max picked up a new jacket (had lost 2 of those, too) and I got a 3 pack of t-shirts for £5! Pretty cheap. I picked up a salad at an M&S on the way back which ended up being way too peppery then we got some food at a kebab place around the corner.


The Vic

Ate back at the Inn and hung out for a bit. Chatted with the opening band. A Lars Fredrickson album was playing on the house stereo which had some undeniably horrible songs, including one with maybe the worst lyric I've ever heard ("I'm mainlining murder, baby"). Instead of drinking, which I would inevitably have done if I hung around the pub, I went out on a walk, ostensibly to get some toothpaste, but mostly just to get some exercise and get out of the pub for a while. Everything closes so damn early in England though. After 6pm the only things open are the chip shops and the pubs. Even grocery stores are closed. Its so strange seeing how abandoned it all becomes at the drop of a hat. So, since it was past 6, I didn't end up getting any toothpaste. Did get some exercise, though. Back at the club the first group started playing and were very Sublime--the band, not the state of being. Could have been from So Cal, brah.

Some nights, even though I enjoy his sets quite a bit, I just don't want to stand so I end up just hanging out when Mike plays. Early in there was some talking but he dealt with them handily. Surprisingly so, even. Afterwards he didn't even use the microphone and everyone was listening, some singing along too. Our set was pretty good, I felt. Jesse's voice came through fine and he was really happy with it all in the end. On 'the Crowd' I climbed up on Park's back, despite the ceiling being about 5 inches above his head. Another very small room so the modest attendance seemed to fill it up a bit better than had it been at a place like White Rabbit. Second night that a girl clearly with a boyfriend seemed to be making eyes at me (happened in Swansea, too). Mike managed to secure us a place to stay with two girls and their roommate (another girl!) who were very hospitable and didn't mind us drinking their tea and talking about different ways to die while we filled their tiny living room. Took a refreshing shower then settled down on the saggy air mattress with Morgan. Cool.

May 12th: Cafe Drummonds, Aberdeen, Scotland

Early morning. Caught a cab from the girls' place at about five after 9, then caught the 9.40 to Edinburgh, where we had a connecting train to Aberdeen, way up on the east coast of Scotland. Loaned Mike £5 for the taxi.

Slept for a bit on the way to Edinburgh and finished reading Epitaph of a Small Winner. Significantly more striking of a read this time. My mind was, obviously, entirely elsewhere when reading it before. The similarities between it and Vonnegut (particularly Cat's Cradle) are remarkable, and stylistically it seems just about the only clear precursor to him that I can think of. This goes for both syntactical and structural elements, as well as the hopefully-hopeless voice which straddles the line between flippancy and misery so concretely that it really feels like a sort of nostalgia for life itself. Machado definitely deserves more attention. Behind me on the train a little girl was whistling "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" incredibly loudly.

Unfortunately we weren't able to really see any of Edinburgh because the next train we had to catch left minutes after we got there. But I've been hearing that its one of the most beautiful cities in the world. So it was nice to not see it.

Started reading Darkness at Noon on the next train. Very 20th century in its wake-up-get-arrested-ness. Still need to write about that one on the other thing. Slept a bit more on this train and woke up twice to find two different girls sitting right across the row from me as I drooled on myself in my sleep.

When we got to Aberdeen Sye and Pepe, two sweet Scottish girls, were there to pick us up. Pepe put us up for the night and ended up having a huge living room that fit us all comfortably. Though it may not be as much so as Edinburgh (I don't know), Aberdeen itself a beautiful city. Everything is made out of granite and there are spires from old buildings always on the horizon. The sea, again, sat right in the near distance. From the balcony at Pepe's we could see the building which Hitler had planned to use as his UK stronghold, as it was his favorite building in the UK. A strange bit of local history. We also had our first encounter with Neds, which Jesse had been warning us about for weeks. They seemed a bit less intimidating than Jesse had been trumping them up to be, but it was interesting meeting people who actually knew what the term meant, since no one in England or Wales had ever heard it before.


Simian Morgan and Human Sye

At the venue I played a couple rounds of billiards with Jesse (each won one) then ended up having a couple photos taken in front of an old church by two freelance photographer guys, which was something I never really expected to have happen. Openers were pretty good (can't remember the first band's name but they let me use their guitar). The Hijacks were pretty good and were incredibly nice. Mike has played with them before and likes them. Another sort of so-so set for us, I thought. Couldn't really hear anything from the stage, broke an A string (my third since being on tour, despite using a higher string gauge and a lighter pick), etc. Sye offered to take us to an absinthe bar down by the docks but we didn't have enough time (bars close at midnight). I really wish we could have gone. But we ended up going back to Pepe's and just screwing around all night, which was very fun itself. Jesse made us some more strong fuzzy navels, had some Schnapps, then slept on the couch in the living room.

May 13th: 13th Note, Glasgow

Hung out for a bit, checking email and having cereal. Mike went for a brief walk then put Iron Man on when he got back, and we talked about various superhero movies. Stopped at a music store on the way to the station to get more strings and got fleeced (£13 for two packs!!!) then went to an M&S with Pepe and Morgan to get food for the trip to Glasgow. Pepe and Sye came with us. Sye is sort of like Jonah Hill's character was like as a kid in Superbad, in that she compulsively draws dicks in every conceivable way. There was a guy sitting next to her on the train that looked like he was trying to not continually stare (and also trying to not laugh too obviously) at many of the pictures she and Jesse made.

The 13th Note is in a pretty sketchy part of Glasgow--down the street there was an alleyway filled with broken bottles, human plog, and empty record sleeves. Right next to the club, in a huge car park area, one of Sye's friends told us that that very corner had the highest traffic for heroin peddlers of anywhere in the UK. Then he also told us about how his ex-girlfriend broke up with him after he got thrown out of a 2nd story window in his underwear. Before going back to the club we all went to get candy at a store and I had the most satisfying candy I have ever tasted. Kit Kat Senses. If it ever comes to America I'm going to give myself diabetes via them.


I'm going to eat so many of these

We came back to the 13th Note and hung out for a bit. Someone put on the song 'The Rhinohead' from the Von Sudenfed album, which is the last song I ever expected to hear on a jukebox but was incredibly satisfying to hear. That's the best VS song, as far as I'm concerned. The gig room of the 13th Note is a tiny little basement which, with around 70 people, seemed filled to bursting. We were told that the Plimptons (for whom this blog is named, and who played with us) had played there the night before as well, which sounded to us like "no one is coming," but it ended up being great. The Plimptons are fucking fantastic. My favorite band we played with all tour. BTMI! meets I Need Sleep, or somewhere thereabouts. Great show, great energy, really good songs...just super good. Mike did his "I'm just going to play unplugged" thing again and then we did a somewhat haphazard, very fun show. Both Morgan and I broke strings at terribly inopportune times, so there was a bit of a lull when he had to replace his and I had to grab Jesse's guitar. I asked if the person who put that Von Sundenfed song on was there so I could shake his/her hand, but the person in question didn't seem to be around. This did end up being a point of conversation with Adam from the Plimptons, though. We ended up talking about the Country Teasers for quite a while afterwards. That was a conversation I have never been able to have with anyone up until now, so it was awesome to talk to another fan. He told me about the Yummy Fur and Male Nurse, who are two other really good Glasgow bands (Male Nurse basically being Country Teasers with a different singer).

Another event of considerable significance was a phone call Mike received early in the day, while we were still at Pepe's house. It was from Kristianne, in Southampton. In a fit of sleuthing normally reserved only for Angela Lansbury, having still found something fishy about the missing guitar situation, she returned to the Talking Heads and had a look around. One of the staff there was willing to help her a bit and, lo and behold, within the manager's office she found Jesse's missing guitar. That girl is a fucking firecracker if there ever was one, and I think we were all suitably surprised both with her cavalier spirit in returning and, even more so, with the results she achieved. Totally incredible!

The night finally ended after a long time carousing with the Plimptons and others at the pub with a taxi ride with Jen and Scott, who were putting us up at Jen's parents' house. Her mom had already graciously prepared some blow up mattresses and a few couches for our usage. I absorbed the Plimptons album delightedly, listening to it a few times before going to bed, then had another small couch to sleep on. This was one of the best days of tour.


Genius

Classics of Love: May 5-9

May 5th: Retro Bar, Manchester

Left Dave's around 10.30 to go back from the Waterloo station to Norbiton (named, I assume, after the hilarious movie Norbit) where Mike, Steve (the kid who was originally going to put us all up) and our stuff were waiting. Then it was back to Waterloo and back over the same walk we did the previous day between Euston and Waterloo on the way to Kingston. Then the 2+ hour train ride up to Manchester. I still wasn't feeling totally up to snuff yet, but was feeling significantly better than either the first Brighton morning, or the first Cambridge morning. Spent almost the whole train ride updating the journal with the previous day's Olympian events.

Manchester is more or less as I expected it to be--equal parts pretty and dreary. Some very nice, old architecture that hasn't quite gotten the modernization treatment that a lot of the storefronts in London have received. It was drizzly rain lugubriously during most of our time there, which was actually one of the few times it rained. The walk from the station to the Retro bar was easy enough. The Retro itself is a nice little pub that looks sort of the way the Brittania Arms and Duke of Edinburgh try to look back at home, with a smallish basement gig room that has a very odd, inexplicably bad odor that seems to come from nowhere in particular. One of the promoters helped us in and also pointed us in the direction of a Primark (cheap department store where Jesse bought some jumpers), and me towards the street with all the record shops so that I could try and find some Fall stuff. I had spent the whole trip hoping to find a Fall t-shirt somewhere, but never had any luck. Went for a long walk, nevertheless, and me and Max had a somber return trip since we were both feeling a bit sick. Then we both ended up napping a bit on the bench in the gig room before the show.

It was another show with an American band--Virgins, from Gainesville. Like Shot Baker before them, they too were on tour with an English band who helped with a van, equipment, etc. People slowly trickled in and it looked to be a very low turn out, but ended up being fine by the end.

The first band was Bears, Bears--another funky-metal band with ska parts thrown in. What an odd, and seemingly British thing this whole sound is. They were just kids though, and are probably still only experiencing lots of aspects of music for the first time. They did have some interesting ideas and lots of spunk. Second was The Computers, the band that Virgins were on tour with. Sort of XBXRX by-way-of the Hives, somehow. Musically very interesting, though all three singers had the same scream. I would have liked a bit more variety vocally, but they were all nice guys and had very good energy. Mike played afterwards and the poor guy had a really rough time. Lots of talking during his set, and lots of people who just didn't seem all too interested. He played short and then beat a hasty retreat out of the room. It was a weird crowd, to be honest. Everyone had an uncanny sort of reticence. No one really packed in close to the stage, and yet, at the end of the night, everyone was really positive. Virgins were good. The guitar played had some awesome parts, and was definitely very talented, though none of the songs really jumped out at me that night. I guess the drummer that was playing with them (a fill-in, by the sound of it) was/is an employee at Fat Wreck Chords. And their roadie does all the booking for Fest. So they had a lot of punk credentials going around.

Our set felt like a lot of work. Again, a sort of reserved reticence was noticeable in the crowd. I think Jesse and I both played much harder because of that. Neither of us wanted to give in to the skepticism and be boring. By the end people seemed into it, comparatively, and we actually sold quite a bit of merch. While we played I said that I thought the Fall was 500x times better of a band than Joy Division and got about 3 really emphatic cheers. Outside, when we were finished, one guy remembered and told me to check out a specific football team (I forgot which!), describing them as "The Fall of football," which does sound pretty awesome.


Fuck Joy Division, Live at the Witch Trials!

After the show, Mike's friend Lou, a cute animal rights, sexual politics, vegan girl let us stay at her place. Her bookcase was all Foucault and Fear of Flying. Everyone else ate spaghetti. I just had some more theraflu and read a bit more of Women in Love, which I was nearing the end of. Proud to say that I had no fried food all day. This may not sound like much of an accomplishment, but I tend to have fries (chips) on tour almost everyday because I can usually find almost nothing else that will suit my needs. So to eat healthier felt good.

May 6th: The Talking Heads, Southampton

Lounged in bed for a bit before checking email. I guess Q101 posted that interview online because I could hear it from the other room in the morning. Checked email and collected my now dry (of sweat) clothes off the heater where I had left them the night before, and we set off back for Levershulme station relatively early. That brought us back to Manchester Piccadilly where we got food for the day and caught the 4.5 hour train to Southampton. I got some salad, cashews, carrots and water at the Marks and Spencer market, which meant I ate fairly healthy for the day. Read a good amount more on the train (~50-60 pages) and played a series of games of gin with Max and Mike while Jesse made artwork and Morgan had the Boddington's he bought from the diner car.

We ended up getting off at the wrong stop, unbeknowest to us, primarily because Mike didn't actually check which stop was ours (just assumed that the central Southampton one was it). But we ended up taking a short connecting train that we probably would have needed to take anyway and got where we were going. Once there we had to fumble around for a while to get our bearing, slowly getting off in the right direction and then finally got to the venue at around 5.30. I ran around the street looking for a bathroom since Talking Heads was still closed when we got there (offering to buy whatever was necessary to use it at one place), until the place finally opened up moments before I shat myself, thank Christ.

A guy showed up early to take pictures of Mike for something (presumably a magazine of some kind), but there wasn't really anything "cool" looking around to use for the pictures, so he ended up just taking photos of him in front of a small pile of rocks out back which I thought was hilarious.


Cool photo shoot!

I had one of the Stella Artois' that the club got for us and finished reading Women in Love upstairs before the show started. I was really surprised and happy with the violence of the prose, and the overall ambiguous nature of "love" throughout. It almost felt like Lawrence was pulling for a most-things-are-doomed reading, which I can appreciate. But I've already written about this on the other thing.

Finally did some laundry, since there was a washer and drier in the green room. I only brought with me four shirts, three pairs of underwear, five pairs of socks, and one pair of pants. So things would get a little iffy after a few days. One can only stretch one pair of socks for so long.

The show finally got going and we met Kristianne and Stu, who were putting us up for the night. I thought them both very nice at first but didn't really have any idea how nice they were just yet (that will reveal itself in due time). A girl played solo acoustic first whose full name I did not catch. Kelly something. But she was really good--had some very strong songs, and did a strangely moving and earnest cover of "Perfect Government" by NOFX. Describing a NOFX cover as "moving and earnest" is not really something I ever imagined I'd do, but its true in this case. The next band was Get Your Ass to Mars, who were kind enough to let us use their amps and drums. Very pop pop-punk band. Lots of Pachelbel's Canon and 1-5-6-4 chords, and lyrics about girls. Very sweet guys though. Mike played another short set to move things along, and to appease his rabid mania to end every show as fucking early as possible. That night I felt very little about our set--I'm not sure what it was. It was fine, nothing went wrong, I had a good time, but looking back on it I see almost no memories in particular. People seemed to like it, though. I think I was just in a weird place. Talked with a few guys from Wales after the show, learning about the Cardiff/Swansea rivalry, and about some Welsh authors who aren't Dylan Thomas. We also talked with a friend of Kristianne and Stu's who tried to talk to us about the "LA accent," which seemed maybe a little confused. I tried to correct his idea a little but that didn't really get anywhere. Also, he thought that we were from LA. So...that didn't really work out. I'm not sure if he thought we had that accent or not, though, to be honest.

Back at Kristianne's after the show we were treated to a particularly rampant display of Mike Park being out of his mind. He loses it in moments, which makes for some fun times watching him be a complete madman.


Three grown men

I shared a fold out futon downstairs with Max, tussled for control of the blankets a bit in the night, but otherwise slept fine.

May 7th: The Hub, Exeter

Had a strangely apocalyptic dream. I can't remember too many details except the seeming hopelessness of the situation and the fact that it somehow involved a demonic church in the middle of the field at Los Alamitos (my elementary school). Odd bits of ambiguous sexuality, too. Ended with me making out quite sincerely with a girl I went to high school with (whose name I won't post in case she ends up "googling" herself).

In the morning we realized that Jesse's guitar was missing. A near carbon copy of what had happened to me at Jaunita's in LA--in the bustle everyone assumed that someone else had grabbed it, and it was nowhere. Mike called the promoter, who checked the club and didn't see it anywhere. In a bizarre act of kindness Kristianne and Stu let Jesse borrow one of theirs for the duration of the tour, saying they'd come pick it up in London at the final show. This is a bit beyond the pale as far as hospitality goes, but she (and he by proxy) was quite insistent that we take it. So with that we began the walk to Southampton station, took a short train to Salisbury, then were on our way to Exeter. I started reading Epitaph of a Small Winner, only to realize that it was actually The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas (a book I read a year or so ago) published under a different title. At least this time I seemed to pay better attention to it. Had a bit of a walk from the station, then found the place and Garth (the promoter) let us upstairs where we ended up staying the night after the show. Bit of a dingy room but it was significantly easier and less embarrassing than trying to beg someone else to let us stay with them. Mike went to go find some friends who work at another pub in Exeter while the rest of us went to get food. Jesse, Morgan, and Max stopped at a pub, but I got a weird vibe from it so I kept walking. The fish at a lot of those "nice" places is usually sub-par and tends to not be worth the price. Plus the portion of chips looked a little weak. Conversely, the portions at the kebab place I ended up going to were fucking nuts. The biggest piece of cod I've ever gotten. And so salty. A little overwhelming to be perfectly honest, but really fucking good too. At least a whole day's worth of food for £4. Ate back at the room above the venue and checked email before soundcheck.

Mike and Jesse bought some garbage bags to line the floor with while we slept to ward off scabies and other unseemlies. I helped the kids from Stokey (the first band) load their stuff in. They were pretty good. Young but tight together, and seemed very sincere. This dude named Mike Scott, who apparently always finds a way to open for Mike Park when he comes out to the UK, played second. We found out he was playing with us the next night and Sunday as well, which I found to be a little strange and presumptuous, but he was a sweet kid, despite his baggy skinny jeans and his Robert Smith meets Bright Eyes acoustic leanings. Did a Propagandhi cover.


Sunset from the roof of the Hub, Exeter

The Jills played after him and were just awesome. Like if all the members of X-Ray Spex just started the band today, in their 50s. A very strange sight. Them and their crew made a bizarre mosh pit during our set. It was about ten 50 year olds just going crazy the whole time. Unexpected, certainly, but very heartening to see. When the show was over Jesse said that he had talked to the guys from Virgins and Computers (who were playing just a ways away in Exeter, that night). Me and Max, since we had missed them, decided to go track them down to say hello and hang out for a bit. We got a little lost since Mike sent us nearly the exactly wrong way, and eventually gave up and headed back to the Hub. But when we got back one of the guys from Stokey said that Jesse had taken off after us, so we trekked back out, going the right way this time (thanks to some local directions) and finally made it over to the Cavern where those guys had played and were now hanging out. I talked to the bass player of Virgins most of the night, who over the music through the PA, basically screamed directly into my ear. After the Cavern closed we all said our goodbyes and Jesse, Max and I walked back towards the Hub around 1 am, set up our trashbags, and laid down while Jesse rehashed his entire 1989-to-now history at Mike's behest.


The posh life in Exeter

May 8th: White Rabbit, Plymouth

Slept surprisingly well on the thin comforter covered by trash bags spread out on the dirty floor. Collected another day's per diem which left me with much more pocket money than I'm used to having. This is a pretty amazing feeling. The first time I'd ever even gotten a per diem was on the brief tour with Bomb the Music Industry last summer, and I was very excited to receive that $5 every day. Now getting £20, and knowing that its mine to do with as I please...its very liberating, and definitely makes me feel like I'm in a real band, which is another new feeling (even if some of the shows have been no bigger than many Shinobu ones).

The train ride from Exeter to Plymouth was truly beautiful. For a span of time it ran about five feet from the ocean. After that it was all rolling hills and deep valleys. From the station we had a bit of a time trying to find White Rabbit (which is, curiously, in a bus station). We sort of camped out in a coffee shop for most of the day. I read for a while, then me and Max tried to cajole Morgan into playing cards--mostly just because we knew it would bother him and we thought that would be a fun thing to do (which it was)--then went on a walk. After (for whatever reason) being too timid at first, we checked out St. Andrew's Church which is an incredible place. We looked into the guildhall nearby, too, which I think was probably transformed out of an old abbey or something. Then we went back to the coffee shop and spent another hour or so there. I worked further through Epitaph of a Small Winner for a bit, then ended up spending a significant amount of time in the bathroom, thinking initially that I needed to go, then just sitting and thinking, feeling surprisingly comfortable despite my having no actual reason to be there. Eventually the coffee shop closed down. Morgan and Jesse were still missing at TK MAXX (aka TJ MAXX) and Staples, respectively. The rest of us waited at the little circuitous fountain across the street from the shop until they came back, then made our way to the venue.


The view from the Plymouth bound train

Once there I took a thoroughly discombobulating nap. Felt like I was asleep forever, and dreamed quite a bit despite my lack of memory as to what it was about. Something about that feeling always makes me a little sad, like so much has happened, something of great importance, and yet you can't remember, and then its back to the waking world in all its harsh physicality.

When I woke up we had to rush to get our soundcheck done as there was another band added last minute--John Q. Public, of Wales. After the check Jesse and I walked down by the harbor and got fish and chips. When we got back there were only three people there for the show, which seemed to be ready to start at any second. Normally I have a pretty high tolerance for small crowds (conditioning, mostly, after having played to under 10 people so many times with Shinobu) but for some reason I couldn't avoid feeling pretty depressed this time. Maybe its because this seems like, by nature, such a bigger thing than Shinobu ever was, or maybe its because the crowds had been dwindling since Kingston, but whatever the reason I just couldn't stand to be in that empty room with the three people and the fog machine and the promise of a guarantee that seems deserved but always finds a way to end up feeling exorbitant. So I went on a long walk back down by the sound. I felt distinctly alone along those streets where I wasn't even sure what I wanted, and nobody really cared anyway.

When I got back John Q. Public had started playing and there was another 20 people or so, so I cheered up a little bit. JQP were a fun sort of NOFXy band that ended with a pretty entertaining drinking ballad. Mike Scott played again next, doing the same breathy set. I guess the last time Mike Park came out he managed to get himself on 7(!) of the shows. But Park ended up playing a very good and very well received set afterwards--again in his eyes-closed, no-stories mode. The clock definitely seems to be ticking down on his touring days. I think this is probably the last one over a week or so he's going to do for quite some time. He said he almost stopped playing after the 2nd song that night...he just has a very hard time dealing with talking during his set, though those who listened were really positive.

We had to wait about 15 minutes afterwards because we were running so far ahead of schedule, then ended up playing a fairly mediocre set. It was just unavoidable in that room, I think. The only thing that saved us were the three sweet punker kids up front who were really into it, and the Stokey guys, who came back to see us again. They made the whole thing a bit better, but it was still a pretty bad show. Jesse had been keeping a running score of each show and gave this one a 3 (with Kingston at a 10). Before we were about to go on, Mike said he was going to run off and book hotel rooms for us--a prospect I wanted to avoid at all costs--but when we got off the stage he said that he had found a place for us to stay. It ended up being with a sweet couple, Chris and Maddie, who were (as is often the case with strangers willing to put you up) incredibly nice and easy to get along with. It was a pretty strenuous walk back to their place (about 20 minutes or so, almost entirely uphill) and then there was a lengthy series of stairs to go up to reach the flat itself, but it was definitely worth it all once we got settled. We played Donkey Konga with Chris for some time before getting ready to bed down. In typical fashion, Mike poked around in the kitchen for a while before we fell asleep, and I think the light was still on by the time I went out for the night.


"The Impression That I Get" on Donkey Konga

May 9th: Sigma, Swansea

Slept fairly well this time on another small couch. Mike and Jesse took a mattress on the floor, Morgan slept in the doorway, and Max in the tiny adjacent room. Woke and stretched a bit. Mike only slept for 3 hours because, apparently, he had stayed up past 5 in the morning watching the DVD of NOFX's erstwhile show on FUSE, "Backstage Passport." "I want to watch it again right now," he said. So we watched a couple of episodes. It seems a little ludicrous to be a band on tour in another country and spend your time in a living room watching a DVD about a band on tour in other countries, but Mike was right: it is really entertaining. We got as far as their show in Singapore (2 episodes? 3?), where they proceeded to do weird drugs just because it is so famously illegal. Peru was the highlight for me just because things went so monumentally wrong due to the horrible promoter. Some things in the show are quite possibly staged (including the aforementioned drug scene in Singapore), but this seems to very clearly be a real case of pure chaos emerging from such a poor job on the part of the person putting on the show.


Watching Backstage Passport

Around 10.30 we all packed up and walked back down towards the train station, led graciously by Chris and Maddie. Then it was ~6 hours of trains up from Plymouth, England, to Swansea, Wales. This is the first time we left England on the tour, and our only trip out to Wales, so I was really looking forward to it. The routing is a little goofy, though--up from the southern-most tip of the southwestern peninsula, up and over into Wales, down into it about halfway. There doesn't really seem to be any direct route, but it probably would make more sense to do a more northern or central England city between the two, since we went halfway up the country before going halfway into the other, not to mention the fact that we had to take the exact same train we took to Plymouth back through Exeter. But that ride was still just as beautiful, and I was still excited nonetheless. Plus, none of these trips are anywhere near half as long as the ones almost constantly needed to tour the US: at around 6 hours this was one of the 2 longest trips; the drive back after the Seattle show to San Jose took 18 hours. Plus none of us were driving this time. So you can't really go too wrong out here. But to prove the circuitous nature of the trip, we had to take a bus after our first ~1 hour train ride. The bus itself took about another hour, which I first spent sleeping then coming up with a refrain for a hypothetical Crain Finn, Andrew W.K. team up ("We partied kinda hard, but we kinda hardly partied"). The bus got us to the station just in time to miss the last train we needed to get to Swansea, so we had to wait another hour. Jesse bought me an Oasis drink because I helped him grab his dropped change, and Mike bought me a baguette because he pilfered the one I bought the previous day in his midnight scrounging.

The train finally into Wales was just as stunning as the one into Plymouth. Herds of sheep everywhere, rolling hills and brooks, the occasional horse just hanging out. Really a great sight.

It took a little while to get to the club, as the map we had seemed to have many street names wrong (and streets in the UK are very bad about posting names and addresses in visible locations), but once we found the place things went off fine. Corbin and Alex, two guys who worked at Sigma, helped us get everything set up and were generally very supportive. I talked with Alex a bit about BTMI since Jeff had just played there a few weeks before. The venue was set up a little strangely, with the stage area under a sort of balcony for the upper floor, but things seemed early on to be boding well for the show. Jesse took a short nap and Morgan, Max and I went to a sort of chain pub across the street that had fantastic prices. I got a pretty sizable portion of chips and a double Sailor Jerry and Coke for £4. Then got a very strong cider for another £2. Park came by and we talked about the prospects of opening a small Asian Man bar/venue in San Jose, which would be very exciting if it came to fruition. Max made the astute observation that Wales seemed to have more cute girls than in England, which I may agree with, though I think that the cutest girls in England were cuter than the cutest in Wales. That's a really asinine sentence, but I stand by it. One Indian girl at the London show was still at the top of my list.


At Sigma. One of three pictures that any of us got of us playing

There were a number of very nice kids who came and hung out early on, and two gave me directions to the coast which was about a ten minute walk away. I went by myself (unfortunately missing the first act) and found it pretty easily. Had to kind of walk through the hotel premises which sat right by the water. It was surprisingly warm down there, and the view was quite nice. I don't really know why I like the sea so much, but its a feeling which I can't deny. When I got back Portraits were playing probably their second song. They were pretty At the Drive In sounding, except with hooky, Jimmy Eat World esque choruses. Good energy, though. Mike played a good set afterwards and seemed a bit recovered from the lesser shows we'd had recently. It sounds like he sold quite a bit, too, which I partially credit to myself since I've been announcing when we play that he has his tour EP on sale, since he never does and since the packaging doesn't even have his name on it. We played a really good set after him (a 10 on the Jesse scale) and I succeeded in not breaking a string this time by using a lighter pick. A couple kids said that it was the best show they'd been to and this dude Dave (apparently a notorious drunk, whose last name is actually Beer) told me afterwards, "Fuck Operation Ivy, what you're doing now is what matters," which was sweet of the lug to say. One of the kids who showed me how to get to the beach bought me a beer and then we loaded stuff into where we were staying, at Kat's house around the corner. She was also very sweet and had a cool little room, albeit up a huge hill and then up about four flights of stairs. She told us about her unfortunate housemate woes as we settled in, then Morgan, Max and I walked back to Sigma to go to their ska/soul club night that was happening after the show. Got a couple of free drinks and chatted with Dave and Corbin a bit more. Played some foosball with Max and two locals (we lost a very close game) and had an all around great time. Then we came back, got comfy, and I settled down for another in the long run of sexy dreams that I had been having, though I'm not sure why I was on such a streak.

Classics of Love: May 1st-4th

May 1st: Engine Room, Brighton

Third Brighton morning, and the morning of our first official show in the UK.

Buzz's living room is just about the best place to wake up to. With the window open you can hear the sounds of life coming from the street below, coupled with Iain's soothing ska music from his store. It makes you feel very connected with life. Not to mention the sound of seagulls which reminds you constantly that you're right by the ocean in a different city in a different country.

Took one of Jenny's Airborne tablets and rolled some shirts while everyone else was out, feeling distinctly better than I did the day before but still not fully recovered just yet. Went for a walk with Max and got a salad at the market for £1 (Great Job!) then bumped into Morgan and Mike Park on the corner by a 99p store where Morgan had just bought a kid's "spy" watch, and Mike got us all these little shamwow-esque towel things. I walked around alone for a while, going to a few book stores (most of which were truly terrible, unfortunately), got some fries at a place by St. Peter's church, then walked back to Buzz's. We watched most of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace while rolling shirts and packaging CDs for the night's show. Up to this point I had only seen the first episode of Darkplace, though I had seen it a few times, but they're all pretty great.

I'd been falling behind in my reading (was reading Women in Love at this point) since we'd been doing so much walking, and the time not spent walking was mostly filled with frantically trying to update my (this) journal, which still feels as though its only getting a piece of the day's events. There's always something the next day that either I remembered or someone mentioned, and I had to cram it into the margins somewhere for the previous day's entry. Plus, I'm still not very good at writing by hand--I must hold the pen too tightly because my hand starts to hurt pretty quickly.

We went in the direction of the Engine Room around 4.15ish and finally went by Mike's soupy (as he called it) Indian buffet, which at £3.50 was, admittedly, a very good deal. Afterwards we walked along the ocean until we came to the club.

The Engine Room is most decidedly a metal bar. Everyone who works there is into metal. They play exclusively metal music on the PA (with the exception of one oddly placed Pavement song [Major Leagues]). The decor is all black paint, red leather, and catacombs / Hostel looking side booths. Apparently the experimental band we had seen the other night is fronted by a (somewhat) famous Australian actor named Noah Taylor who was in Tomb Raider, Shine, and presumably other films. The bartender told us that he paid them just to play and insisted that it be more or less unannounced. While we were waiting for Buzz to get there and for things to pick up Jesse took a nap, and the rest of us walked back down to the beach. We all traded surprisingly candid stories of sexual and/or romantic histories with Mike, who I feel like I've grown much closer to on this tour. Just talking and hanging out with him has gone from pretty easy to quite comfortable, and I would feel pretty confident in describing him as a friend after this. We all sat on the beach, throwing rocks at bigger rocks and seeing how far we could throw left handed until it was time to head back to the club.


Looking at the ruins of the old pier after throwing smaller rocks at bigger rocks for a while

Surprisingly, the other band playing was also an American band, which might account for the relatively modest turn out. They were all very nice and their British friends were just as nice if not nicer. The American band is called Shot Baker, and the British band they were touring with is Serf Combat (though Serf Combat wasn't able to play this show). Tom from Serf Combat very selflessly helped us track down another amp head when the one he brought for us to use wasn't working, and then bought an EP even as I tried to give it to him for free. Wob played again to open the night and was just as much of a sweethearted, enjoyable goofball as before. I had "Charity Shopping" in my head for the rest of the night, and many later ones. Early into the show an older woman (probably in her mid 50s) in an Op Ivy shirt bought an EP from me. There is a clear difference the way that music perceived as youthful or immature in America is simply regarded as music in the UK. Mike had mentioned that lots of older people come out to shows here, but seeing the way that music obviously plays into the lifestyle of people like her, Buzz (himself an older gentleman), and many other people, articulated something much bigger than a larger tendency to go to shows here. It really feels like a lot of the assumptions about music and musicians as being facile and a passing phase in America are entirely social constructs. Seeing someone like this woman at an American show or wearing the shirt of a punk band, people would immediately presume her to be clinging to some sort of lost youth, which is too bad, and which illustrates a lot of the tremendous stupidity which is all too common at home. For as proper as the British are supposed to be, and as liberal as America is supposed to be, there are clear examples of how a social puritanism has managed to get sublimated into the American mindset. Too bad. It doesn't have to be that way.

The rest of the show went well despite some more technical problems. Had to restart Midnight Passenger, as the guitars were impossible to hear and so the rhythm got lost in the mix. But things ended up fine and plenty of people told me that it was a good show. Afterwards Max, Buzz, Emma, Chas and I went back to the Evening Star where I proceeded to lose my beanie. I talked about David Lynch for a while with a guy who ended up knowing Chin (of Ging Nang Boyz) somehow through the Derangements (his other band). We all had about one beer and then headed back to Buzz's.


Chas (left) and Co. at the Evening Star

May 2nd: Underworld, London

Last Brighton morning. Early. Had some of Jesse's Theraflu to make sure I didn't stay sick. Packed out and left before the Brighton children's parade began, which Buzz had been telling us about (and lamenting the noise of) for the past day or so. Had a bumpy train to London which I spent doing the last journal entry. On the way Morgan told me that the previous night at the show he met a guy from another touring UK band named either Brake or Break (not sure which) who came out solely because he liked the picture on the flier. "That's a show I want to see," he said, not knowing that either Jesse or Mike were playing, though he know of and liked both of them. Very weird and very cool. At the station in Brighton I got a croissant and another £1 salad, and had breakfast on the train.


The mystically alluring flier

Once the train let us off at the London Victoria station we ambled around for a while until Mike decided that he simply did not want to deal with taking the Underground. We were on our way to the BBC to record a couple songs for their punk show (in the same studio that John Peel used to do all his shows in!) and ended up taking a taxi over which, surprisingly, ended up being cheaper than if we had taken the Underground. We crammed everything into the little taxi somehow, with stuff packed absurdly high, but had a very relaxing and exciting drive just knowing that we were in London, headed to the BBC to record.


Packed like rats in Meyer's flat

We ended up with a lot of downtime when we got there, hanging out first in the cafeteria, then the "artist's lounge" afterwards. Mike went to get us some food when the engineer showed up and we spent a while getting things set up. I fooled around on a celesta that they had there for a bit. Eventually we recorded Gun Show, Line Through Your Name, Pick Your Classics, and World of the Known (which were all played on the Mike Davies show). Didn't get much to eat because I guess Mike couldn't really find anything except an over-priced supermarket, so I ended up with some bread and some Pringles. But the recordings sounded great--I'm very happy with them, and it was all in all an insanely good experience that I never guessed I would have in my life. Afterwards it was off to the Underworld for the show in a second taxi which was, again, cheaper than the tube.


"Do you want to make tea at the BBC?"

We got there during Sonic Boom Six's soundcheck, who were headlining the show. I had previously thought that they were a ska band because I always hear about them in ska circles, but they appear to be "funky metal," as Buzz says, with some ska and hip hop parts thrown in. Something like a mix of RHCP and No Doubt. But they put on a really good show, and are all incredibly nice and had no problem with us using their equipment--which is still always a pleasant surprise.

Max and I talked briefly about my current girl situation which still just feels completely fucking helpless.

All of the openers were nice but kind of gross. All some manner of fratty rock-ska, which I didn't even know existed. One of them we ended up playing with again in Nottingham, talking to them a good amount about touring Europe, which may end up happening sometime fairly soon. At this show Morgan and I talked with their roady-gone-guitarist for a bit about music and America. He wanted to go to Seattle because he loved grunge music. A very nice metalhead guy. Our set was really fun, and people went pretty nuts during the Common Rider and Op Ivy songs. Stage diving and everything. It was a really good show, even if most of the people were there for Sonic Boom Six. During their set, Max took me back stage to have some of the band whiskey. I think we ended up having quite a bit of it. We saw quite a few people who came to the last two shows (both the Engine Room and Wob's house) which was both surprising and pleasant. Its odd having familiar faces so far from home, but by that time there were already quite a few. Afterwards, it was one more taxi to the station where we took an hour long train out to Cambridge. Mike's friends D.S. and Georgie picked us up from the station and took us back to their house. I had some tea and some cider (Georgie loves cider), played with their sphynx cat (Spooky) for a while, talked boxing a bit with D.S. since the Hatton/Pacquiao fight was happening at that moment in the U.S., then settled down for the worst night's sleep I had all tour. I don't know what happened, but I just couldn't get comfortable, couldn't get the right temperature, and couldn't stop Morgan from snoring inches away from my face all night.


Georgie and D.S.

May 3rd: The Portland Arms, Cambridge

Pacquiao destroyed Hatton. I didn't end up seeing the fight until I got back, but it was all over the BBC sports news. Two knockdowns in the first round, knockout in the second. Pacquiao is a monster. The first knockdown, Pacquiao ducked under a huge swing from Hatton while simultaneously cracking him in the face. Just insane.


Insane

I felt truly horrible in the morning. The bad sleep that I got let whatever cold I had come back in full force. Had a bowl of Special K which I slowly worked through and some more Airborne, then spent the early afternoon watching Day of the Dead. Jesse and I are both big fans of horror movies, but so many potentially good ones end up being completely marred by bad acting and horrible music. This was a prime example of that type. It had some good ideas, but if they had just cut the music out entirely, gone with no music at all, it would have been 80% better. It was also perhaps a bit too ambitious, with far too many lengthy monologues where there could have actually been some horror. Not to say that it needs to be constant jumps and thrills, but there needs to be a decent balance so that the investment pays off. I think in theory it was good, but it was certainly not a great movie. Still haven't seen the last 20 minutes of it yet, though.

The Portland Arms in Cambridge is a little pub with a "gig room" in the back that can fit about 60 people max. It had a nice feel to it and the intimate size was great for shows. I was still feeling pretty bad so I ended up napping for a bit on a couch in the courtyard. When I woke up the first band, Skimmer, was playing (who apparently have put an album out on Snuffy Smile and have been playing forever) and they were good. Unfortunately (we thought), most of the band ended up leaving early, taking back the head to the amp Jesse was going to use, so we spent quite a bit of time trying to scrounge another up. Eventually Georgie and a friend got one together but, as it turns out, it didn't work. So we played with one guitar, which was a little strange at first but ended up being a complete blessing in disguise. Jesse felt much more comfortable without the guitar, was able to move around a lot more, and Mike almost immediately said that it was the best we had played. Now we're doing all the shows with one guitar. As strange as it felt on stage the first time (I still hadn't learned most of Jesse's parts since it was pretty spur of the moment) it seemed to go over quite well--D.S. in particular seemed to love that Jesse just sang.

The Grizzly Ends played before us, after Skimmer, and were fun to watch (especially "Bank Holiday," their last song) and there was an acoustic act who D.S. had played for us earlier at his house. He was really quite good and Mike is now considering putting our his record, though I obviously can't remember his name now.

When we finished I felt completely disgusting as the sickly sweat that having a cold and playing on stage induced clung to me on the walk back to Georgie and D.S.'s (it was a bit windy, too). Took a long shower and hung out with some of the people who came by after the show, then talked over plans for how to improve the set by moving Jesse more towards vocalist. Initially I suggested that instead of getting a second guitarist, Jesse should just play on the songs that really needed it. Some songs really do benefit from having 2 guitars, but many don't, and some only need it in certain parts. We talked it over and ended up giving it a shot over the next few shows. So, despite things seeming a bit dire for a moment with the missing amp head, it ended up helping the band refine a good deal.

May 4th: Fighting Cocks, Kingston

Once again didn't sleep all too well, though significantly better than the previous night. Must be something about that room. In the morning / early afternoon, D.S. and Georgie had a BBQ for us. It was looking like it would be rainy but things cleared up shortly, so we were all able to eat out in their expansive backyard while Spooky ran about.


Spooky roaming the backyard

Jesse and I talked over arrangements for songs so that he could be unencumbered by the guitar as often as possible and, generally, we agreed on all songs--only a couple really seemed like they needed a second live and we broke up the set into one and two guitar sections. At around 2 we had to load up their car with luggage and equipment, then we all eventually made it down to the station and said our goodbyes to our hosts for the last two days, who had been tremendously helpful, and then it was off to Kingston.

I worked my way a bit further through Women in Love on the train but still wasn't feeling in top shape, so ended up sleeping half to most of the hour or so trip back to London. Once there we had an hour long walk from that station to the Waterloo station, which meant that we got to cross Waterloo bridge and see Big Ben and the London Eye off in the distance. Mike Park wanted us to take a picture with them in the background which we somewhat begrudgingly did, feeling like dumb tourists. After that train it was a short walk to the club (Fighting Cocks), as Kingston seems pretty small. We dropped our bags off and rested for a bit. I took another little walk to try and get some food and spend some of the one pound coins which were weighing my pockets down. When I came back we loaded everything down to the room--another nice, small place--and found that they had brought food for us. Had some apple juice and a salad. A really nice dude named Russ loaned us his amp for the night since the openers--the Skints--only had one guitarist. The Skints, it should be said, were fantastic. Really strong rocksteady band from London with an amazing drummer who did most of the singing, and a cute lead girl who played melodica and alto sax as well as sing. They're touring the UK with the Slackers later (maybe now?) and I think Mike made designs on putting out their record, too (2 nights back to back!). The place filled up pretty quick, including a number of people who had come to previous shows--the metalhead kid (3 shows), the birthday guy from London and his girlfriend (2), another Londoner (2), and Davey (who came to a total of 4!).


Morgan with the perpetually sloshed Davey

We tried out the half guitars / half one guitar thing that me and Jesse had talked about and it went really well. Easily one of the best shows we've played as a band, and definitely one of the funnest. People went crazy once Jesse started jumping around. The amp problems in Cambridge turned out to be a huge benefit. Afterwards Mike told me that he could really see it that night--could see something really happening between the crowd and the band that, as good as the previous shows had been, hadn't quite happened before, and I think I agree with him. We were all in really good spirits. Maybe it was the faces of people who had already come to see us, or the fact that the club was packed with people who were actually into it, but it definitely felt like a new thing for me, and it was incredibly fun. There was a brief scare afterwards when Morgan couldn't find his bass, but it turned up fine.

As we were loading out it so happened that someone who knew Larry Livermore was there, and he told Jesse that Larry and Green Day were hanging out at their hotel in London. Jesse is old friends with all of them and so he talked to Billie briefly on the phone and then it became the case that we were going to go hang out with them. At that point it was a scramble: get all our shit to the place we originally were going to stay (and where Mike stayed), load it up to the apartment, then join Dave (Larry's friend) in a mad dash to catch the Last Train to London (E.L.O.), taxi, and make it to the hotel before everyone went to bed.

Though I don't listen to them now, and haven't really in quite a few years, it was absolutely hearing Green Day in 4th grade that got me into punk music which, realistically, cast a tremendously long shadow on the rest of my life. If I hadn't have heard them I probably wouldn't have wanted to play guitar, which means I wouldn't have met half the people I know, wouldn't have started playing in bands, and wouldn't be writing about my experiences semi-professionally touring the UK with Max, Morgan, Jesse, and Mike. It's one of those To Live (Huozhe) moments that would have drastically changed my life's path had it not have happened.

When we got there they were all in the back bar in the Soho hotel. It was them and a few of their crew celebrating Mike Dirnt's birthday, as it turned out. Billie was immediately nice, welcomed us, offered us drinks, and just seemed like a pleasant, sort of dorky guy with ridiculous hair. I sat down next to Jason who, apparently, is the lesser known 4th member of the band. Also a very nice guy--actually held a conversation with me, took us to the "honor bar" where drinks were being attributed to their room based on the honor system, and just seemed very normal. I had two Asahis in pretty quick succession, partly because its a very good beer, and partly because I didn't want to be constantly going in and out of the bar, shadily, all night. During the second beer the birthday boy came in the little bar room, and we all talked a bit. Said happy birthday. After the second drink it was back to the lounge area where I met Susan, who was some manner of record exec, and sat across from Tre Cool and his girlfriend. It was her birthday, too. I got the impression very quickly that Susan did not and could not possibly care about music if she were imbued with Mozart's blood and Charlie Parker's smack habit. She was a socialite, through and through. She worked a job that paid lots of money and now got to travel around with famous people and drink champagne when she's thirsties. She was nice enough, I suppose, until she started accusing us of "mocking" her by "pretending" that we believed her that there was such a thing as a liger. Tre Cool I thought, at first, to be an asshole. Then I realized he just seemed pretty dumb. He talked incessantly, laughed at exclusively his own jokes, and didn't seem to have the capability to listen at all. He was talking to Max about Oakland and Max, during a lull, started to respond, was halfway through a complete sentence, and the dude just picks up where he left off talking about himself. He also talked quite a bit about his fancy, expensive new toys and looked sort of like Pee Wee Herman dressed as Billy Idol. I had to flee his presence a few times. A very tiringly pop-culturey guy passed around a video of a liger on his blackberry while Susan proclaimed, "See! You didn't believe me!" Punk fucking rock.

Max did talk a while with Dirnt though, and I talked to Billie and Jason a decent amount (quite pleasantly, too) so this isn't meant to be a "fuck Green day" thing. I could just have done without Tre, Susan, and the E! Channel type guy being so present. Jesse gave Billie a copy of the EP and we ended up leaving around 3 or so to go to sleep at Dave's. On the way back Jesse commented on how much Tre has calmed down over the years which was utterly baffling to hear.

One thing that hanging out with them all did was to completely reaffirm how happy and lucky I feel to have met and become friends with Jesse. Though the band is by no means huge, I'd rather be doing this than touring with a group like that under the banner of punk one thousand times over. Jesse's the real thing. And very funny.

Watched a bit of the football highlights and learned, more or less, the way the leagues work before lying down on the couch and putting an end to the incredibly strange night.


Why must you act the way you do?

Part the first: Classics of Love 2009 Midwest and UK tour

April 22nd

This is technically the day before tour begins (and two days before the first show) but, since it entailed my leaving home and sleeping at Morgan's, I count it as the beginning of what follows.

At 8pm Morgan came by my house and picked me up so that we could grab our stuff from the practice space--just guitars since we're traveling by train, necessitating our using other bands' backlines for the whole of this tour. Said my goodbyes to the family and then we were off. We got back to his house not too late and watched the incredibly inspiring GBV documentary: 'Watch Me Jumpstart.' Seeing the unlikely success of a band that was a) fantastic, b) unlike most others, and c) hardly dared to venture outside of their city limits until they were all well into their 30s is a pure joy. As I lay down on the futon pad in the unfurnished room next to Morgan's I heard a car pull up next door bumping hip hop at about 1 or so in the morning. When the driver and his passenger got out I was treated to him freshfacedly talking up 'Degrassi Jr. High' as the lullaby for my last night in town for almost a month. "It's this Canadian drama...for teens!"

Slept fully clothed.

April 23rd

Got to Max's house at 4.30am, split up the merch amongst ourselves and took off to the airport, driven by Morgan's mom. We had a somewhat uneventful flight to Chicago. Jesse slept most of the way, Morgan came in and out of sleep, and I think Max was awake the whole way. I spent most of my time slogging through the USA Today crossword puzzle--trying to figure out what 'Teetotaler's vehicle' meant. Designated driver?

We landed pretty early in the day, watched as one woman stole another woman's wallet in the baggage claim (the former being successfully chased down moments later) and found out that Jesse's luggage was missing. An inauspicious beginning. After 5 hours of waiting, the lady that idiotically mistook his completely different looking bag for her own finally brought his back and we were able to begin the 7 hour drive to Minneapolis in the rental car that Mike Park had reserved for us. We finally got into Margaret and LeAnn's place (family friends of Morgan's) at around 3.30 in the morning. Thankfully they are incredibly nice and were more than willing to accommodate four jokers that early in the morning. Slept comfortably on a couch in their living room while their six cats prowled around all night.

April 24th: The Triple Rock, Minneapolis, MN

Spent a cushy morning at Margaret and LeAnn's. It was Max's birthday as well as the date of the first show. He slept until 2 in the afternoon and then we all annoyed him for a while before heading to the Triple Rock.

The Triple Rock is a very good venue that paid us way too much money considering that we only had about 50 people in attendance. Again, a somewhat inauspicious beginning. We enjoyed the benefit of meal tickets, allowing us to eat for free before the Evening Rig, a very Replacements by-way-of Gin Blossoms band played and were nice enough to let us use their equipment. Mike Park played a hilarious set, telling bizarrely open stories (such as the "tingle" he gets on his penis when he hears a good band) and it was nice to finally meet up with him for the supposed beginning of the tour.

We played a somewhat mediocre set, but the people who came were into it. Failed miserably to play a song that we had only been working on recently as an encore when people wanted another (which they probably regretted afterwards). We had begun the process of committing to a cover of 'the Crowd' earlier that day and even briefly practiced 'Jaded' at soundcheck which was a hugely strange experience for me. It has become very comfortable hanging out with Jesse--making dumb jokes, fake names for each other, and talking about horror movies--but moments like this call back memories of being overwhelmed by Operation Ivy in my middle school years. I have a very distinct memory of playing baseball, being stuck out in left field during a slow inning and singing 'Sleep Long' to myself to pass the time. This whole thing has been an odd and unexpected development all around.

Max got a few birthday drinks from people at the bar and later on we (him and I) bothered Morgan while he tried to sleep. When we got back from the show--back to Margaret and LeAnn's house--we discovered that we had gotten a flat tire.

April 25th: Reggie's, Chicago, IL

More waiting. 5 hours at the airport before the 7 hour drive to Minneapolis, another 2 before the 7 hour drive back to Chicago. We all woke up early, Jesse called AAA, and Max and Morgan went to the shop where they eventually had to get a new tire. So we got a bit of a late start. On the way out of Minneapolis we ended up almost getting side swiped when Morgan went to pull over to let a parade of police cars through, only to realize that the car they were chasing was right in our blind spot the whole time. They veered off to the left before we got on the freeway and we continued the otherwise mundane trip. We started the process of ipod playlists (Morgan bought an ipod) while Jesse did some practicing in the back. In Wisconsin Morgan stopped at a cheese shop and got some unintentionally moldy cheese and I went across the street and bought two disposable cameras. Mike wasn't with us at this point because he had flown out to Chicago to have a meeting with a potential distributor and better secure the future of Asian Man.

Minneapolis was the type of show that I'm used to: a handful of people, promoters not too excited to pay us, somewhat mundane bands sharing the bill, etc. Chicago, on the other hand, felt like a "real" show--a very nice venue (Reggie's), about 200 people paid, opening band had Niel from the Lawrence Arms and Danny Vapid from Screeching Weasel. Plus people actually seemed into seeing the band. I saw Chris, who Shinobu had played a few shows with in Southern California, which was a pleasant surprise. He probably remembered me because last time in Riverside I talked his ear off about books, as is my wont when I've had a drink. But he was very nice, either way. Noise by Numbers (Niel and Danny's band) and American Taxi (a sort of fashionista band) both helped us out with equipment, and we ended up playing what was, up to that point, our best set as a band (I thought). Ended up doing 'No Return' for an encore. There was a second show slated for later that night and as we were clearing out of the green room (the existence of which was also a pretty new experience for me) there was a guy filming documentary footage of the next act, whose name I missed.

Had another free meal next door after the show then went to get in the van. On the way, Jesse got a cigarette thrown in his face by a drunk guy who was "apologizing" for yelling at him while we were playing. He was, justifiably, angry for a while but calmed down a bit after we had been on the road for a little while. We were headed to Jenny Choi and her husband Phillip's house which was also in Chicago, and where there were beds, a shower, food, and a 'Dr. Dude' pinball machine all waiting for us. So we played Dr. Dude for a while (this very machine of which may have been the inspiration for a Travis Morrison song on his last album, according to Phillip) and ended up sleeping in the uncannily barren upstairs of Phillip and Jenny's awesome house.

April 26th: Mad Maggie's, Elgin, IL

Woke to see Max's sleep-addled face sticking out of the doorway to the adjacent room. We both woke almost simultaneously at around 10am--well after the rest of the group had gone to play basketball in preparation for the Bulls/Celtics game at noon. When it started to rain Morgan & Jesse went to find a stationary store so Jesse could get some art supplies for the drawings he proceeded to make all tour, while Phillip & Mike came back to the house. At the stationary store Jesse also got me the composition book which I ended up filling with all this trivial data. Upon hearing about my eating habits, Jenny, being incredibly nice, prepared some rice and a thing of Airborne for me, insisting that I take them on the trip. She also made a very good lemon/coconut-y cake, and a couple of friends of theirs brought more snacky stuff for the game. I mostly played Dr. Dude all morning and began transferring my notes into the composition book. At a point Morgan and I taught Max how to play Gin and he went on to win four games in a row, the louse. Oddly enough, Jenny had a story about Norm Macdonald being a bit pervy, which was incredibly similar to something that had happened to a friend of ours as well, involving Norm and some 3 am phone calls. Apparently he's a busy (and horny) man when doing his stand-up.


Jesse and Mike practicing Midnight Passenger

That night's show was in Elgin, which is a weird little place with a riverboat casino and plenty of people who don't know how to give directions. Had a salad at the club before we played (my first of many to come), and didn't drink a drop either, despite being offered free drinks. Rob from Tuesday/Colossal/etc. came by and was a general sweetheart.

Mad Maggie's (the venue) has some truly bizarre architecture. Once you go upstairs its all hallways and ashtrays, as well as plenty of recently-deserted-looking rooms that may have once been used for surveillance of some variety. The show itself was pretty good. The first band, Vacation Bible School, demanded that we take all their money despite my protestations. I know how unlikely that sounds (something like the "she was asking for it, dressed like that!" defense) but in this case its completely true. The Takeouts, a high school ska band, covered Op Ivy (Sound System) and had Mike come up to do a Bad Manners cover with them. Watching Mike perform with them was the first time that I really noticed that Mike actually has a great voice. Its very unaffected and natural. I never really realized when he's playing his own songs, but there was a certain well-meaning swagger in his vocals with the band that I just never picked up on before. If he sang for a laid back, romanti-ska band he'd sound fantastic. During his proper set he played a couple of requests which he promptly forgot the words to.

There was some confusion over what equipment actually worked for us to use, but we were able to cobble something together and the sound ended up being noticably good on stage. We beat it out of there pretty early after the set, got a little lost, played various forms of the last-letter-first-letter game on the road to Springfield, and got there around 2.30 where the incredibly accommodating Jason (promoter for the next show) ushered us into his home and insisted that we take anything we could get our hands on. Sometimes I'm amazed by how earnest and helpful people are willing to be to complete strangers. At this point in my life I've relied on more people who I've either just met or haven't met at all yet than I have on people who I've known for years. Its a distinctly transient existence: stopping in somewhere you've never been before and staying with someone who has a very stable life in that town, only to disappear and repeat the same general procedure elsewhere. There's a lot of more of that to follow.

April 27th: The Black Sheep Cafe, Springfield, IL

Woke up to Morgan struggling to remove himself from the air mattress without waking me which, obviously, did not work as planned. Oh well. Jesse cooked eggs for everyone in the morning and I once again felt like an asshole for denying perfectly good food someone had tried very hard to make for people to enjoy. I'm trying with food more and more, but at the same time I'm retreating more and more in embarrassment over how stupid I feel over my general finicky (to say the least) eating.

Spent most of the morning and afternoon playing Gin and then playing Rummy with Max and Morgan, as well as scrounging around for food and snacks in Jason and his wife, Denise's, cupboards. Accidentally made some tremendously bitter tea by continuously ignoring Max's advice to remove the loose tea leaves in a timely manner, and paid the price for my uncouth brewing skills.

For a job Jason does accounting at a hotel in Springfield, since putting on shows is almost never a way to support one's self. He popped back in briefly around the noon hour to get some food for Denise who was 32 weeks pregnant. Then at 4.30 he got off and we all went to get food while Jesse and Denise both stayed home and took naps.

The "horseshoe" is something of a local culinary specialty in Springfield, though I have no idea where it got its name. In essence it is a plateful of shit drenched in a thick, pungent cheese sauce...much like a horseshoe. Mike, Morgan and Max all opted for the local flavor while I got something a bit more manageable, then we all hit up some thrift stores so Max could get a jacket. The one he bought was a plain, olive affair that, for whatever reason, he decided he looked like an asshole in but bought anyway, complaining about it unflaggingly until he eventually lost it somewhere in England.


The horseshoe: a plateful of shit

Got back to Jason's and ran through 'Midnight Passenger' and 'the Crowd' acoustic, with Mike playing guitar so Jesse could just sing, then took off for the show at the Black Sheep Cafe which is a tagged up little room that could possibly fit about 100 people if they really packed close, right in the middle of nowhere. Two acoustic acts opened up the show (one a very earnest girl who I meant to tell did a good job but missed the chance. I felt bad that there was so much audible talking during her set), then Jason's band, the Seething Coast (a Mountain Goats reference), Mike, and then us. The Seething Coast was sloppy and awesome. Sounded like what I imagine Slanted & Enchanted era Pavement must have sounded like live--weird energy and well meaning song ideas filling in for a more full or logical sound. Jason oscillated between sounding like David Berman and just a more or less 90s sounding dude. They were all in all good, but they played two absolutely great songs: their first, and one which they said was directly inspired by the Mountain Goats. Later, while Mike was playing 'Toby Vail' we all tried to get people to clap along but were met with resistance on all sides. But we did manage to cajole him into playing 'Justice' (a Chinkees song he had played in Elgin) and it was from then on a staple of his set. I was pretty thrilled with our set which involved our first performances of both 'Midnight Passenger' and 'the Crowd.' The place was sweltering during our set (before too, really) and it was muggy and rainy outside so there was no avoiding the wet shirts which we were all stuck with afterwards. Talked to a couple of nice kids after the show then we headed back to Jason's where we ate egregious amounts of popcorn and played another round of Rummy.

April 28th

Left Jason's at 9. Flight to the UK leaves at the other 9. The plan for the day was: leave Springfield, stop in Chicago for a radio interview with Q101 (Live 105), drop the rental van off at Midway, them make our way back to O'Hare for the 9pm flight to Heathrow. Along the way back to Chicago there was a huge accident which had all freeway traffic at a standstill for about 15-20 minutes, so we all got out, did some stretching, Max and Mike did some arm-wrestling on the hood of the van, then we all hopped back in the second traffic abruptly started again.


Fun times

There was some confusion (mostly due to a lack of effort on our part) in trying to find the place where the interview was. The station is on the second floor of some huge shopping behemoth and Mike was going to wait downstairs while we did it, but he charmed the parking lady into letting him park for free, then came up and helped us figure out where we were going. The interview proper only lasted about ten minutes with basically everything going to Jesse and Mike which, realistically, is how it should be since no one knows or cares about the rest of us three. It seemed to go well, though. I drank as much free bottled water as I could stand and then spent the hour or so we were on the train having to violently hold in my pee.

On the second train there was, briefly, a woman near us who was probably the most sincerely beautiful blond I have ever seen in my life. Not movie star beauty, or faux sorority blonde, just a truly simple and strikingly beautiful woman. What this evoked in me was a rare moment of painful insight to the fact that there is a large portion of humanity which I will hardly ever have contact with by walking down the path of music. Standing there in an old sweatshirt, jeans that were dirty before I left, and holding all my shit I couldn't help feeling slightly infantile next to her. There will never be a point in my life where I'm able to help someone like her--she is already so far down a separate road than the one I've taken that we can only exist as strangers to each other.

We spent a while in the food court at O'Hare, first eating and then just playing Rummy and reading. Jesse taught us how to play "Thundersuit" which is a "card game" similar to "Numberslap," the "game" he taught us earlier. Thundersuit involves turning up a face down card, guessing the suit, and then proceeding to say "I have a brand new suit!" On the plane Mike and I had a sudoku race which he won by a smallish margin, then I watched Frost/Nixon and got a decent amount of sleep. F/N has very good acting, is shot well, and yet never seems to truly arrive in any sense of the word. It was paced fairly poorly, and hardly ever broke beneath skin level, plus I just don't think that the content of the story proper necessitates a feature film. In the end I would give it a very soft B. Maybe strong C. If this was movie of the year material then it was a painfully slow year.

April 29th


Brighton pier

Woke up half an hour before the plan landed in Heathrow and frantically tried to finish the moderate difficulty sudoku puzzle only to realize that I had fucked myself on it early in. We had a brief mishap trying to keep up with Mike, who walks like a freight train, on the way out of customs then hurried ourselves onto the bus to Brighton, which is a pretty fantastic city. Similar to Shimokitazawa in Tokyo--small streets, little shops, and a general nice feel to it. Right on the edge of the beach, as well. The place we stayed in was a flat on top of a ska-lifestyle store, owned by Iain, and the Punker Bunker, a basement record shop that Buzz runs. Buzz owns the flat we stayed in and is an old friend of Mike's. We decided on a £20 per diem, then Iain directed us to a fish and chips place around the corner where we had our first English meal. Mike had originally wanted to go to an Indian buffet but, very warm-heartedly, suggested we get fish and chips so that I could eat too for our first meal. This is the exact opposite of how it normally is for me, since on most Shinobu tours, in most cities, Bob proclaims that we're all going to some buffet where I generally just end up sitting and waiting until we leave (even when Max was stuck in the van with the chickenpox). It was a great experience: realizing that we were in another country, sitting in the sun with the sound of seagulls in the near distance, and actually eating something that I enjoy with friends. After lunch we all walked around a bit and then headed to The Evening Star pub where Buzz and Emma (his girlfriend) were meeting us when the shop closed. Jesse did some drawing, and the rest of us played Gin and Crazy Eights over a couple of pints. Buzz walked Mike and Jesse back to his place at a point, so the rest of us hung out and chatted with Emma while we waited for Buzz to get back. They're both very sweet, fun people.


Buzz and Emma at the Evening Star

After a bit Chas joined our party and we went off to a Japanese place that let us bring in our own beer. I shared some edemame with Emma, and the rest of the night was spent wandering and drinking. First we made our way down to the coast where we fooled around on a playset for a while, before heading to check out the Engine Room--the venue we were playing on the 1st. There was a somewhat boring experimental band playing so we just had a pint or two and then took off with the remainder of our drinks and went back to wandering, talking about the difference between alliteration and onomatopoeia for whatever reason. Got back and spent the night on a small mattress that Mike and I shared in the doorway to Buzz's living room.

April 30th: Wob's House, Brighton, UK

Woke up feeling horrible. Jesse, Mike and Buzz went out for breakfast while Morgan, Max and I took showers and eventually got a bit to eat. I suffered from a bit of nausea on the way to the supermarket but it eventually passed and then we all got cheap drinks at the market (750mL of apple juice for 76p. 8 liters of sparkling water for £1.08!) then met back up at Buzz's. Buzz took us to the Brighton museum which had an ancient Egypt exhibit running at the time featuring, among other things, mummified cats, plenty-a scarab beetle amulet, and a four thousand year old pair of sandals. The rest of the museum was fairly small but enjoyable nonetheless. Saw a chamberpot with a porcelain statue of Napoleon inside for one to plog on at one's convenience. Around this time, while hearing school teachers lead children on hunts for various objects of Britain's colonial past, it dawned on me that what I thought was a bad hangover seemed, instead, to be the opening stages of some manner of cold. We walked around a bit, hit up a huge thrift shop, got more fish and chips, then went back to the Evening Star where we met up with Chas again. Though I wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to drink anything this time--couldn't even muster myself up to take a swig to wash down my vitamin.


Brighton museum. Morgan and Max presumably playing the parts of Noel and Liam Gallagher as kids

Made our way over to a party on the outskirts of Brighton along with Buzz, Emma, Chas and Tom (a man with enormous dreadlocks). The party was nice and fairly low-key. Met a few people who were coming to some of the upcoming shows. Wob, whose house it was, played first and was hugely entertaining to watch due to a) his enthusiasm, and b) his facial expressions. He jumped around continuously despite his only having an acoustic guitar, and made the face of what I can only assume a deer on ecstasy would look like. Earlier (at the Evening Star) Buzz had described Wob to Chas as being "very good at what he did," though not everyone might like what he did--to which Chas replied, "What? Does he sacrifice children?" (To go back further, Buzz had told us a good story about Chas and his band, Lightyear, back at the museum. Apparently on the millennial New Year, Chas and his band had all gotten first drunk, then fully nude, dancing on top of a bus shelter near downtown Brighton. Someone got a picture of them which ended up being in the newspaper with the caption: "Brighton's gay community celebrates.")


Tom, Emma, Max and Jesse in Wob's backyard before the party

Mike played a good set after Wob, but I was beginning to feel worse and worse, almost nodding off a number of times during his set. Because we were to play acoustic, Max ended up playing an egg shaker, and tapping on Mike's acoustic for percussion. Mike joined us to finish with Midnight Passenger and The Crowd, and it all went over very well for a small acoustic show in a tiny room in Wob's house. I felt better when we were playing, but was immediately gripped by a fit of anxiety when we finished as my body hurt and I couldn't find anywhere to just sit down comfortably and be alone for a while.

Took a very short train ride back then went to the flat with Mike and Morgan, while everyone else went back to the pub. Mike put on X2 and we talked for a bit about tour, how to keep the band running strong, plans for the future, etc. I fell asleep before the movie was over, which means that I still haven't seen it in its entirety--though each time I've seen slightly more. Slept in a fever haze on the couch in Buzz's living room.

New Wave, or Truth?

So much happened during the recent Classics of Love tour, and I kept a fairly detailed journal of the entire thing. Upon returning the only thing that seemed to make sense to me was to make all these sundry notes available somehow. Thusly, here we are: at the outset of my second blog in as many years. What ever happened to integrity? Well, the heart of the matter is that I will be updating this with details of my touring experiences over however long it is that I continue touring. It probably won't be updated as often as Books and Shit, since I'll only be updating this when returning home from tour, but that's neither here nor there. I'm going to start with this tour over the next couple days, piecemeal. Alright!