Buongiorno Friendos:

It would be my privilege and honor to share with you the merits of sleeping in a full-size bed and not traveling a thousand miles a day, but I know you’d rather hear about the banana we put in Bob Schneider’s tour bus or the Great Wall of China-sized line of cocaine we all shared to get through our last show.  Truth is, I’m home and on my way to being rested and prepping for another round of playing in June.  Here is, starting from where I left off at the last update, a blow-by-blow synopsis of our May journey:

Salt Lake City:

Shortly after our second night in Seattle, we rounded the gear up, shoved it down a small elevator, wheeled it through the alleyway, and hit up the mountainous highway towards the Urban Lounge in Salt Lake City.

Salt Lake City, from the get go, was interesting.  I can’t speak for the entirety of the city because, basically, I showed up to the gig and stepped off to play a game of frisbee in the back parking lot of the venue.  We were, however, told to be quiet because the area has noise laws.  In fact, when Will (the production coordinator) arrived, he informed us that we couldn’t soundcheck or make any kind of noise until the show started.  Fair enough but fairly odd.  This was a first in all my days of playing.  But I’m willing to roll with that kinda punch.

After our game, we went and got dinner next door at Al Forno’s.  Our waitress was Flo, a chick from Long Island who came out for a little ski trip and ended up staying.  This was her 20th year.  She mostly said, “Foegeddabouddit.”  That was a highlight.  I ordered some kinda Hawaiian fish.  It was good but I ended up paying for it for the rest of the night.

Anyway, after dinner, we all got our blankets and slept on the lawn by the RV.  I felt kinda weird about it but I was really tired.  I mean….like the kinda tired you probably are when you’re a prisoner of war and they’re keeping you up day and night with the hope of you dishing out some kinda precious piece of intel.  That kind.  I got about an hour in and then we hit the stage.

The Salt Lake crowd was interesting.  Very talkative.  They swallowed up Charlie Mars, the dude who goes on before us.  He usually reels the crowd right in with his mixture of chill songs and Southern-twanged humor.  But not tonight.  Charlie was fishing with the wrong bait.  So that made us a little nervous, espcially considering we’re totally new to everyone in every city AND we hadn’t had any proper soundcheck.  But I had some tricks up my sleeve and I was ready to put them to use.

We stepped up onstage and started in with “Chained”, a slow, bluesly romp about the perils of getting stuck on someone for too long-a time.  This song usually works well as opener (at least I think it does) because the opening words are “I love a woman/but she doesn’t love me/I should have listened/when she tried to tell me”.  Who can’t identify with that?  So I belted it out and pulled them in…...almost.  This crowd was pretty talkative so they were gonna need a little somethin’-somethin’.  And what I’ve learned from watching Bob Schneider and other entertainers is that if you can’t beat em, then you give em hell.  Somehow, it seems to get you a little closer.  So I asked all of them why they’d pay twenty bucks to go somewhere and make a bunch of noise.  And what if Bob isn’t coming out tonight?  What if I’m all you get for the night?  Then I told them we didn’t care about them anyway and they can go on making noise.  And somehow, they started listening.  I guess people perk up when they sense anything with a little fire to it—like a hallway fight in high school or a moto crash on the interstate.  Bad news travels like wildfire.  Either way, we rocked our way through the set and won some fans.  Some guy told me later that night that we killed it and that he loved the way the sweat poured down my face while I played.  I didn’t quite no what to make of that but I’ll take it as a good thing.

That’s not all.  In other news, Bob was, I think, mildly irritated that the crowd was so verbal and he didn’t come out for his usual encore.  So we pack ourselves into the RV and hung out for an hour outside the venue.  In the meantime, we gotta couple of hellos from strangers.  One guy even showed us his genitals.  That was weird.  We got pictures but I can’t show them.  But trust me, he was very proud of them and not afraid to show them off in various bodily positions.  Maybe his girfriend’s name is Salt Lick Sadie.  Either way, that’s Salt Lake City.

Denver:

I never knew how much driving hundreds of miles in an RV between shows would physiologically break me down.  I was feeling the burn in Denver.  War fatigue.  It’s worse than the shopping mall fatigue dudes get when they’re hangin’ with their boo.  And you know….I really could care less about it because the adrenaline that precedes shows provides me with enough energy to get it going on stage.  But it won’t save my vocal cords and the last three shows of this tour were scary.  I’ve never sang a set thinking “this could be it” for my pipes.  It’s like being the starting pitcher in the seventeenth inning.  You’re basically just waiting for the building to collapse.  And it does this weird thing to your presence.  It splits it.  You get stuck inside your mind while simultaneously trying to connect the song’s energy to the crowd.  I’d have to say it’s not my cup of tea.  But I’m willing to adjust.  Or else I’m mildly screwed. 

Denver was excellent.  The band camped out behind a 7-11 that was facing the Ogden Theater.  I don’t know what part of town we were in….it seemed half-nice, half-scary.  But the Ogden was really nice.  When you hear the word “theater”, you imagine seats and velvet and curtains and ushers….but it wasn’t like that.  Maybe 20 years ago it was.  But whoever took this place over had in mind that this was gonna be a rock and roll venue.  So they gutted the place, added rubberized black flooring with tracklights, and engineered different tiers for people to watch.  It was one of my favorite looking venues and I was psyched for the show. 

The place filled up fast.  You never how big the crowd is gonna be for Bob.  He always has a good one, but sometimes it could be 400 and sometimes it could be 1500.  Tonight, though, was packed.  The band was ready to roll.  Everyone was upstairs, crammed in the tiny dressing room.  Someone had purchased some tequila and there was some sipping going on.  Nothing outrageous.  I don’t allow my group to drink heavily or smoke anything before shows.  Not good for business.  But a little taste won’t hurt. 

To sum up the Denver show, I’ll just say this:  the crowd was great, the music was great, the vibe was great, but the band wasn’t hooked up.  Why?  Who knows?  An unmarked grave, that gig was.  The funny thing is….you could have asked someone in the crowd what they thought and they might have told you it was amazing.  But I wasn’t feeling connected and I know the band wasn’t either.  Sometimes this just happens.  You can’t blame it on anything, but you can try—the thin, Denver air, long travel, no sleep, the moon, chicks.  All I know is that my voice was threatening silence and one of my guitar strings got stuck during an important solo right in the middle of the set.  I kept going for the guitar-face-note….you know, the one that sends the crowd into cheering…it’s not intentional….anyway….the string was just stuck!  wtf!  I couldn’t tell that it was though because of the lights.  I just thought I was having a weird solo.  Someone shoulda just pulled my pants down in front of everyone.  That woulda been better.  I later apologized to the crowd for my solo and assured them that I was a badass guitar player.  Whatever.  You win some and you almost win some. 

I must say, though, that I can’t wait to get back to Denver and play.  The music fans there seem really into the playing.  We had some good friends in the crowd and I was happy for the opportunity.

Santa Fe:

The last gig of the tour, Santa Fe was a pleasant surprise.  First off, it was an outdoor gig. 

Secondly, we got free food and unlimited beer. 

Thirdly, we played a pretty good set even though the crowd was seated and about 75 feet away from us which is always cause for a little disconnect.  But the set was tight, I didn’t blow my voice out like I thought I would, and we played like champs.

Fourthly, Bob let us jam with him and his band on a few songs and we had a splendid time doing that.  I got to borrow Billy Cassis’s guitar for a little solo on “Tarantula” and Wendy and Eli tore it up too.  It was a great way to end the tour.  Everyone in Bob’s band was super cool and they’re all really great players too.  And we had a nice time hanging out and getting to know Jay Thomas, the sound man (also a songwriter).  I felt grateful for the opportunity.  I know the band did too.  And we’re doubly psyched to get back out on the road and keep rocking it for whoever passes by. 

So we’re back and resting.  I feel glad to be sitting in one place for more than a day and not in the midst of all the collective clamor of the group.  The constant travel is unusual.  You feel like a nomad on speed.  Sleep and good rest are faded memories.  Adrenaline becomes regular in your bloodflow.  Truckstop food is all you have.  Rest areas are like geysers in the desert.  Girls everywhere.  No wonder musicians burn out and get all jacked up on drugs.  The only thing that seems about right is playing your music that night.  It’s not normal!  But then again, what is?  I don’t care.  I’m having just the time I wanna be having.  And me and the band look forward to June and beyond.  Stay tuned!

Also, look for some streaming live concert stuff up on this site very soon.  We got some good clips from all the shows and I’m looking forward to posting them up on the web for your listening.  AND…check out those YouTube video blogs. 

See you soon & thanks,

jason