The commute from Long Beach to Huntington Beach is a whopping 30 mins so not a whole lot to report there. After our assault on Denny's we head to the Huntington Beach Surf Museum. After unloading our gear we grab a pint at an Irish Pub around the corner, catch The Marauders set and hit the stage, err... pavement at 2:45. We play to a small but civil crowd for 75 mins. and have our best merch day of the tour! People seem to have more dough in the Land of the Beautiful People.
So at 4:30 we're on the road back to San Diego and reality. The playlist on the way home includes: The Rapiers and Stinking Lizavetta. We arrive at my house and are greeted to an angry mob of neighbors surrounding a dead dog that had been hit just minutes before we arrived. Ah, home sweet home. We'll cool our heels for a month and prepare for the next leg which includes a Tue. night show in San Diego with Daikaiju, Saturday with The Neptunes in Fresno, and Sunday afternoon in San Francisco with The TomorrowMen, Pollo Del Mar, and Daikaiju. Until then...
Monday, August 24, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
The LBC
So we take off for our final 5 hour drive to the City they call Long Beach. Fairly uneventful, though we did stop to get some Alien Jerky, which was highly lauded, but I just wasn't that impressed. Today's playlist included: Roy Buchanan, Laika and the Cosmonauts, Buck Owens, Rodney Dangerfield (live '80), Los Twang! Marvels, and Goggle-A.
Being on tour blurs the days during the hours of 9am and 6pm. With most of it in a car and the rest in a hotel room staring blankly at the idiot box or Steve's MacBook. We arrive at The Pike, tonight's venue, for a complementary dinner. We're greeted by two lovely bartenders who graciously welcomed us into their establishment and told us they were really looking forward to seeing the show. Ok, that was completely the opposite of their attitude. Quite the characters. After the initial comedy routine that they should have shortened to two minutes, they finally seat us for dinner. And for pub grub, the food is pretty good.
We hit the stage around 10 and were glad to see some familiar faces (BigTikiDude, Baja Marty, Tiki Tena). We played two fairly lengthy sets and hit the kill switch around 12:30. All in all a pretty good show, though we had to keep the volume down a bit, which is always challenging, but no big deal. Tonight's a short night for us as we're all a little sleep deprived, so we head back to the circular Holiday Inn and call it a night. Next stop: The Huntington Beach Surf Museum.
Being on tour blurs the days during the hours of 9am and 6pm. With most of it in a car and the rest in a hotel room staring blankly at the idiot box or Steve's MacBook. We arrive at The Pike, tonight's venue, for a complementary dinner. We're greeted by two lovely bartenders who graciously welcomed us into their establishment and told us they were really looking forward to seeing the show. Ok, that was completely the opposite of their attitude. Quite the characters. After the initial comedy routine that they should have shortened to two minutes, they finally seat us for dinner. And for pub grub, the food is pretty good.
We hit the stage around 10 and were glad to see some familiar faces (BigTikiDude, Baja Marty, Tiki Tena). We played two fairly lengthy sets and hit the kill switch around 12:30. All in all a pretty good show, though we had to keep the volume down a bit, which is always challenging, but no big deal. Tonight's a short night for us as we're all a little sleep deprived, so we head back to the circular Holiday Inn and call it a night. Next stop: The Huntington Beach Surf Museum.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Sin City!
After a quick stop at IHop and Target to pick up some black Dickies (it seems I remembered everything for this trip except my pants) we head back through the desert and on to the valley of sin. Another long 5 hour drive through the desert on one and two lane highways, cursing every other driver's inability to grok that the temporarily opened left lane is intended for passing. The playlist for today included more Phantom Four, The Satan's Pilgrims' latest, The Vanduras (great road album!), Grant Green, Morissey, Hot Snakes and Rush. The only noteworthy event from the drive included our vehicle inspection at Hoover Dam where our inspecting officer was waxing pathetic in his eager anticipation of that evening's long awaited Marilyn Manson show. Interesting gent.
Fast forward to our arrival in Vegas proper and to our digs at the Residence Inn. We actually scored pretty hard here with a studio apartment-like room equipped w/ a full kitchen, living room, etc. Perfect place to decompress. You know you've reached a certain rung on the "old" scale when you arrive in Vegas and all you really want to do is watch the Discovery channel on the hotel idiot box. We're pleasantly surprised to hear that we'll be going on at midnight after fearing a potential 3am start time. So with merch box in hand, we head out to our car and unknowingly surprised a startled gentleman who reflexively whipped around in what I beleive was a Shotokan Karate Horse stance with fist clenched. Yikes. Altercation averted.
Upon arriving at the Double Down, we are greeted by the club's doorman who proceeds to give me an envelope containing the following: Our pay for the night, drink chips (tickets in the real world), and stickers. This is actually worth noting. Getting paid up front prior to playing and not having to stick around wondering where the night's pay is coming from is HUGE!! Kudos to the Double Down. Now that's my kind of club! We were also greeted by a couple of interesting folks who proceeded to tell us of their tour victories/fiascos while traveling the country in a punk band. One word: Wow.
There were supposed to be 5 bands playing, but it had thankfully widdled down to three. The first band, The Yeller Bellies was a very good rockabilly meets Deliverance-influenced redneckery band. Great and very tasty guitar playing coupled with stand up base, wash board and mandolin. Very impressive! We went on second and played a 45 minute set to a very appreciative and welcoming crowd. We definitely played a bit better due to the increased energy in the room, although I had to switch to my strat for the last three songs due to severe hand cramping. Arghhh! Thee Swank Bastards closed out the night and put on a mesmerizing show with the sultry hula hoop ballet from from the lovely Szandora. Pure poetry! The highlight of the set for me was definitely the 10 minute Black Sabbath Opus including: Black Sabbath, Fairies Wear Boots and Electric Funeral. In the sack by 3 am. Not bad. Tomorrow: The L.B.C.
Fast forward to our arrival in Vegas proper and to our digs at the Residence Inn. We actually scored pretty hard here with a studio apartment-like room equipped w/ a full kitchen, living room, etc. Perfect place to decompress. You know you've reached a certain rung on the "old" scale when you arrive in Vegas and all you really want to do is watch the Discovery channel on the hotel idiot box. We're pleasantly surprised to hear that we'll be going on at midnight after fearing a potential 3am start time. So with merch box in hand, we head out to our car and unknowingly surprised a startled gentleman who reflexively whipped around in what I beleive was a Shotokan Karate Horse stance with fist clenched. Yikes. Altercation averted.
Upon arriving at the Double Down, we are greeted by the club's doorman who proceeds to give me an envelope containing the following: Our pay for the night, drink chips (tickets in the real world), and stickers. This is actually worth noting. Getting paid up front prior to playing and not having to stick around wondering where the night's pay is coming from is HUGE!! Kudos to the Double Down. Now that's my kind of club! We were also greeted by a couple of interesting folks who proceeded to tell us of their tour victories/fiascos while traveling the country in a punk band. One word: Wow.
There were supposed to be 5 bands playing, but it had thankfully widdled down to three. The first band, The Yeller Bellies was a very good rockabilly meets Deliverance-influenced redneckery band. Great and very tasty guitar playing coupled with stand up base, wash board and mandolin. Very impressive! We went on second and played a 45 minute set to a very appreciative and welcoming crowd. We definitely played a bit better due to the increased energy in the room, although I had to switch to my strat for the last three songs due to severe hand cramping. Arghhh! Thee Swank Bastards closed out the night and put on a mesmerizing show with the sultry hula hoop ballet from from the lovely Szandora. Pure poetry! The highlight of the set for me was definitely the 10 minute Black Sabbath Opus including: Black Sabbath, Fairies Wear Boots and Electric Funeral. In the sack by 3 am. Not bad. Tomorrow: The L.B.C.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Phoenix Rising!
D-Day. Time to hit the road. The day started off with a bit of excitement. I narrowly missed pummeling a boxer that darted in front of my car while on the way back from the obligatory Starbucks run. Steve and Bill arrive at my house with Dodge Durango in hand. Note to self: Dodge Durangos do not have as much space as the skillful workers of Budget Rental Car would have you believe. Due to space constraints we're forced to jettison my Vibroverb and Steve's extra bass. Oh well.
The five hour drive to Phoenix was uneventful, which was great. The playlist on the way out included The Huntington Cads 45s, The Born Losers, Takeshi Terrauchi, The Sons of Adam, Jim Campilango and the 10 Gallon Cats, The Phantom Four, and Led Zeppelin I. I'm not the fan of the mighty Zep that I once was, but I still think that Page never got a better tone than on that first album. Steve's GPS system was much more palatable once we changed the women's accent to British.
The first thing one notices about Phoenix in August is the thermal disparity with Southern Cal. Holy crap, its hotter than hell in Phoenix with a high of 109! Good for the joints I suppose. After a dip in the 95 degree pool (refreshing!) we lounge around our hotel and do nothing of significance.
Fast forward to 7:00pm when we meet Trey and Scott (Surfside IV), Trey's lovely wife Chrissy, and Scott's girlfriend, Holly for a Thai dinner. We had a blast at dinner and was humbled by the generosity of our hosts when they picked up the tab. The Surfside IV and their support crew are wonderfully nice and hospitable folks. It was a pleasure to meet and hang out them for a few hours.
The Blooze Bar is a bar in a strip mall in Phoenix, but packs a pretty decent crowd for a Thursday night. Much better than San Diego generally. The Bar's owner, "Tumbleweed" was a character and was very nice to us. I can definitely recommend the Blooze Bar to wayfaring bands in search of heatstroke. The Surfside IV hit the stage at 9:30 and played a great set. They had a fill-in bass player, but pulled off a really enjoyable set. I'm looking forward to hearing the product of their next recording session. Trey gets great tone from his roundwound armed Jaguar.
We hit the stage around 10:45 and played a 75 minute set. The crowd thinned over time, but we had a blast. We played all of our newer material and some covers including: Gear!, Wild Jet Beach, Musume Doseiji, Carioca, The Breeze and I/The Cossack, and Everybody Up! All in all the night was a success and definitely a good start to the tour. Now we prepare mentally for the Vegas set, where we could be going on in the wee hours of the morning. Next stop: Sin City!
The five hour drive to Phoenix was uneventful, which was great. The playlist on the way out included The Huntington Cads 45s, The Born Losers, Takeshi Terrauchi, The Sons of Adam, Jim Campilango and the 10 Gallon Cats, The Phantom Four, and Led Zeppelin I. I'm not the fan of the mighty Zep that I once was, but I still think that Page never got a better tone than on that first album. Steve's GPS system was much more palatable once we changed the women's accent to British.
The first thing one notices about Phoenix in August is the thermal disparity with Southern Cal. Holy crap, its hotter than hell in Phoenix with a high of 109! Good for the joints I suppose. After a dip in the 95 degree pool (refreshing!) we lounge around our hotel and do nothing of significance.
Fast forward to 7:00pm when we meet Trey and Scott (Surfside IV), Trey's lovely wife Chrissy, and Scott's girlfriend, Holly for a Thai dinner. We had a blast at dinner and was humbled by the generosity of our hosts when they picked up the tab. The Surfside IV and their support crew are wonderfully nice and hospitable folks. It was a pleasure to meet and hang out them for a few hours.
The Blooze Bar is a bar in a strip mall in Phoenix, but packs a pretty decent crowd for a Thursday night. Much better than San Diego generally. The Bar's owner, "Tumbleweed" was a character and was very nice to us. I can definitely recommend the Blooze Bar to wayfaring bands in search of heatstroke. The Surfside IV hit the stage at 9:30 and played a great set. They had a fill-in bass player, but pulled off a really enjoyable set. I'm looking forward to hearing the product of their next recording session. Trey gets great tone from his roundwound armed Jaguar.
We hit the stage around 10:45 and played a 75 minute set. The crowd thinned over time, but we had a blast. We played all of our newer material and some covers including: Gear!, Wild Jet Beach, Musume Doseiji, Carioca, The Breeze and I/The Cossack, and Everybody Up! All in all the night was a success and definitely a good start to the tour. Now we prepare mentally for the Vegas set, where we could be going on in the wee hours of the morning. Next stop: Sin City!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Preparation (A sign of things to come?)
I find it always good practice to do a bit of guitar maintenance prior to hitting the road, so last night while watching one of the final episodes of Battlestar Galactica, I dutifully restrung my trusty Jazzmaster with some brand spankin' new Thomastik-Infeld flats after giving her a bit of a de-griming. There is something quite satisfying in a string change that I've never really figured out. Kind of like thinking that your car drives smoother after an oil change. Ah, life's illusions.
So, after the obligatory tuning and feeling quite ready to take on the surf world, I decide to take my Jazzmaster to the back room and get her safely into her protective case. WARNING: For the faint of heart, you may want to skip reading the rest of this post due to the utter vileness of its upcoming content. So, with the Jazzmaster strapped on, I walk it with hands full of: Guitar tuner, polish, rag, wire cutters, and string winder. Note to self: NEVER WALK A JAZZMASTER WITHOUT ONE HAND ACTING AS A SAFETY DEVICE. So, in what seemed like days, my lovely Jazzmaster jetisoned from its protective strap and plummeted to the hard tiled floor making a noise that was reminiscent of someone throwing themselves down a flight of stairs.
The damage: Two really nice deep gaping dings that heroically expose several inches of wood on the side of the previously attractive stringed instrument, and a nicely missing shard off the headstock. There are times when you are so pissed that you look for somewhere inexpensive to put your fist through, and then there are times when you simply need to sit down and let the hate subside. My reaction was the latter. Oh well, lesson learned. It seems like I'm learning a lot of 'lessons' lately. Well, at least my Jazzmaster is nicely relic'd now. On to Phoenix to meet up with The Surfside IV!
So, after the obligatory tuning and feeling quite ready to take on the surf world, I decide to take my Jazzmaster to the back room and get her safely into her protective case. WARNING: For the faint of heart, you may want to skip reading the rest of this post due to the utter vileness of its upcoming content. So, with the Jazzmaster strapped on, I walk it with hands full of: Guitar tuner, polish, rag, wire cutters, and string winder. Note to self: NEVER WALK A JAZZMASTER WITHOUT ONE HAND ACTING AS A SAFETY DEVICE. So, in what seemed like days, my lovely Jazzmaster jetisoned from its protective strap and plummeted to the hard tiled floor making a noise that was reminiscent of someone throwing themselves down a flight of stairs.
The damage: Two really nice deep gaping dings that heroically expose several inches of wood on the side of the previously attractive stringed instrument, and a nicely missing shard off the headstock. There are times when you are so pissed that you look for somewhere inexpensive to put your fist through, and then there are times when you simply need to sit down and let the hate subside. My reaction was the latter. Oh well, lesson learned. It seems like I'm learning a lot of 'lessons' lately. Well, at least my Jazzmaster is nicely relic'd now. On to Phoenix to meet up with The Surfside IV!
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