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Subtle's For Hero : For Fool Tour Diary Part Two
By Dose One | 3 February 2008
>Read Part One: 9/8 - 9/17
*****
9/18 drive day.
heading to salt lake.we plan to stop in boise this evening…ahh boise…ahh motel 6 in boise…infact, this is the very motel six where I did the intro to "dark sky demo"…rapping on the streets of Idaho.
We stopped in Bellingham, to do banking.and unbroke ourselves…
We also picked up our stashed merch at the nightlight…and made for the ten hour drive…
Hopefully today I will find a "clear" skull at a truck stop…my last one was stolen from the edge of my keyboard stand.in london…
I cracked into the next subtle record writing today…adding to a few of it's fetal poems and half tales…someparts look to be great…with a ton of elbow grease and reapproaching.and some parts are great already…
One day it will be done.
And the day was done without acquisition of a second clear skull…
We arrived at boise at 4 am…dead tired and so on…
The hotel was a place of ghosts and the heavy set…
We awoke at 8:30…to make it to SLC the next day by 3…
9/19 Salt lake city UT
well I'll be damned…
You can always expect one show that will, broadside you…sometimes in a positive way.sometimes negative.
Well this was all positive…we did about 250 folks on a Tuesday night.in salt lake no less…
And more than that they were a genuine crowd of the good hearted and.drunk…fine folks.
Really helps us pry the lid off of being in the moment, and have an exceptional 110% percent night…
The nice people at slug magazine handed me a trophy just after a tale of apes I&II…it read … "subtle…cross-genre achievment award"…apparently it was a poetic gesture and attempt to tie in my tale about smuggling john peel trophys a few years ago…it made us very happy indeed…
I also got the chance to see Brisk, a graffiti writer from slc.and old friend of mine…he is the gentleman who pressed "hemispheres" on vinyl some 8 years ago now…it reminded me of a definite and glorious time he, dibbs, jel, j.rawls, fatjohn, and myself had coming up in the rap game…
We also saw adverse…a dear old friend and fellow freestyle heavyweight…
So, in the beginning of the evening.a nice fellow comes up to me, and hands me a painted truckers hat…which says my name and has a bee on it…unbeknownst to him bees are my achille's heel…
And then he reminds me that he gave me a painting of a bird last time we were intown…and I recalled his face, and told him that said bird painting was hanging in my hallway at home amongst our many hung things…and he smiled…
Apparently he is one of the more gifted writers in SLC.
Anyhow…so every once in a blue moon, our thought loving audience decides to get violent.and it truly puzzles me…when I crunch dice in my fist and hollar M-class kill…by no means do I mean punch thy neighbor…
So…just as we begin the last song in the set…swanmeat…i see the nice graffiti writing guy sort of pushing and pulling with people in the front row…it quickly aggravates…and we are still only on the swanmeat intro…i then see him basically swinging on these four 5 foot tall sweetheart young ladiess in the front row…
At which point two local press people, who were on the guestlist and very civil folks…take it upon themselves to try and drag angry graffiti man out of the crowd,.. which only makes things worse…mind you we are now only finishing the first verse of swanmeat…
I have a few stone-set performance rules… one of which is…don't stop songs ever.don't give hecklers their undeserved attention…nor yell at the sound man…nor act like your guitar or midi-controller is broken…
So long story short we keep playing through the heart of the melee…and somewhere just before the end of the song…the graffiti writers girlfriend comes charging at the stage and she also throws this exorcist-esque fist flying fit.and the same two nice press folks drag her flailing limbs and all out to the street…
And that was that…the crowd and ourselves quickly brushed it off as a slight case of appreciative retardation…and continued rejoicing…
And we drove off into the thinned and crisp salt lake air to our waiting motel 6 cell for what would be three hours slumber…
9/20 DeNVER CO
and so we drove…dead tired on our empty sleep tanks through the dead of the day to the door of the club.
jeff and I were excited to see ravi…who directed the themselves and why? videos…
And we almost solved the case of the missing for hero : for fool vinyl…
But not yet…
All of us were rather spent for this evening.running on the watered down juice of three hours sleep…but we pulled our draw string tight and did our bestest…
The show was good, the whole front row was very talkative…and there were quite a few un-funny comedians there…
Nonetheless it was a good show…and the sleep after it was even better…
I lost my voice a bit.always happens…considering I had a flybynight flu for the last four days…i think my old boy throat did pretty well…
It will be nice to rest it in the rental car for the next 24 hours…
There was a thick air to the show…but not one that is unfamiliar to us.we first noticed it on our west coast tour after the car accident…our biggest fans, or closest folks rather…were looking at us differently…between dax missing and simply being worried about us.they sort of watched us like we were ghosts…
And it's a heavy yet undeniable way to be watched…
Luckily it fades after the first time folks see us again…
At first it alarmed us, but then made a perfect sense…i would hope that at the very least our art makes an emotional connection to those who take it in…and this reaction to our ordeal and the weathering of it…proves there is a vested connection after all…
9/21 Drive day
well today is a heavy day.
today is the day we all drive past the sight of our car accident.
and we somehow all know we will recognize the empty grass and highway stretch where all went so terribly wrong for us…
And while we are not entirely sentimental or superstitious people.the act of driving past the very point where all went black, for the first time…is somehow deeply unsettling and a task to get over with at the same time…
At least we began the day with dax's favorite road food…'THE uncle Hershal's breakfast" at cracker barrel…it is the champagne of shitty breakfasts…catfish eggs and hash browns.grits and biscuits…we rejoiced and thought of dax with all our hearts…
I also bought the "talking tucan" again.since it was such a big hit on our former themselves tour…nothing like making a cute plush chicken say "fuck"…and other things far too grotesque and dirty minded for this here tour diary…
And so we hit the mid America…
I burned some cd's for the car.
Battles…
A classic rap collage.
The subtle6 mix…
Bracken…(the new chris adams of hood record)
At wal-mart I bought enough plastic forks to last the whole tour…
I also bought a clear shower curtain liner and a can of proper red krylon to make portable blood puddles out of…
Our plan for this evening is to record our acoustic set in the motel6 tonight.as to not simply suffer the burden of our sensitive and dearly dax missing selves…
It would be the least sulking thing to do.and so it shall be done…
8 hours later…
Alex and marty decided to keep driving into iowa…marty sat on his glasses, and they wanted to get them fixed in minny…
So Jordan and I signed three hundred copies of the for hero : for fool cd booklet…while watching twilight zone…
No acoustic recording session tonight…
I dreamt.
I was the guardian of this one square block in brooklyn…
And the woman who lived below me, had three daughters.all of which were being terrorized on their way home from school…one of them was beaten to a pulp…the day before.
So I take to the corner and find these three hoods…i proceed to mutilate them with my bare hands…i actually snap one mans jaw with my two hands, like tarzan would an alligator…until this store owner pulls me off of them.
A few hours later I leave my apartment, to get a soda at the corner store…
I am quickly surrounded by a group of 10 to 12 hoods…
The leader a 6 foot 5 puerto rican cat…takes out a day-glo green box cutter…two men grab my left arm…The leader puts a silver dollar on the top side of my thumb…and then pulls the box cutter toward it…severing my thumb…
Then I woke up…
9/22 minneapolis MN
so we woke an hour late to my stubourn and Canadian cell phone's time…
And hit the road…
We listened to some demo's
And the last fly pan am record…
We drove past the great nothing much of the Midwest grounds…big sky and dead crop a plenty…
At long last my stress-canker-sore disappeared…and I feel full-humanned again…
Tonight we play the seventh street entry…
Quite a few of my most memorable musical moments went down there…
The first time I rapped on stage with sean, tim, and bren, and jeff…
The first time jeff and I performed 'it's them' and quite a few of our then new songs…
Our first packed themselves show ever…
A cathartic and classic show with circus and the whole anticon gang…
The first "the" fog show…which I had a recording of, given to me by LSD wez…
And the place where I met anna bloomstrand…who led me to andrew's door.
And in some ways I prefer it to the triple rock…it's a bit more built for speed…dark, low-ceilinged, and dingy…
I have still not found the clear skull I so desperately desire.
I caught jeff tracing rjd2's face in the car…he quickly drew a hitler mustache and hindu dot on it, as to try and confuse me…but I knew he was always copying rjddog at heart.
And we arrived, not to the clatter and scuttle of openers unknown to us…
Rather to the warm embrace of friends…
Tim and mike from fog were both there with their friend rob…and mel Gibson and the pants…who we have known of for many years now…
And it was a joy to play amongst friends.
The entry swoll itself with people, and a good time was had by all…
Probably the best show of the tour to date…no prisoners were taken…
We got tom see all our dear minny friends…from j-bird to big bear of fog…
So we giggled and rehashed all our inside jokes from the previous tour.and shared some of our still fermenting inside jokes from this tour…
Then bear lead us to andrew's fine home, where we secured patches of floor, and slept for three hours…
9/23 chicago IL
three hours later.we are all zombied out and assuming our position in our respective car seats…
And we half-slept our way to chi-tilla for the always wonderful WIRE festival…which jeff and dax and I played together some three years ago.
With black dice.and wolf parade…
This year our friends were frank rosaley & paul Flaherty… the punks and OM…always a medley when the wire caters…
The rain came pouring down as we stumbled through the ever clutterd stage arrangement, that is multi-band festival soundchecking…
So after a rather shitty soundcheck.we began to drink beers and enjoy the empty bottle ambiance…
A few moments later…dun dun dun…the for hero : for fool vinyl arrived…
And after 6 months of nail biting.I finally could lay out the boardgame before me…and much to my un-chagrin…it lined up perfectly.and all the game pieces fit like a charm…
I had been secretly fearing that all my meticulous boardgame crafting would be for naught…but alas, every so often best laid plans actually work…
My second favorite surprise of the show was "radley"…the old black venue cat.who boldly trounced across our merch booth and snuggled up in the t-shirt bin…he also shared catfish tacos with me some two hours later.
My new friends from ONO magazine were there.and it's wonderful to put faces to names and complete the circuit so to speak…we also got to spend some sped up but quality time around rob lowe…perennial good guy and great musician of the empty bottle, 90 day men, and Chicago acclaim…
And so the mayhem ensued.
frank rosaley & paul Flaherty were great.they had never met before this evening…and it was a rather inspired scronk-a-thon…which is a difficult thing to pull off, especially when you don't know your fellow improviser…or maybe that makes it even easier…
Then came the punks…not so much my thing.or maybe it is…who's to say.
Four nice folks playing an un-song for about 20 minutes…it was like a live interlude in the context of the night…
And then we played to a packed empty bottle…and the reception was nothing less than wondrous…great people make for great shows…
And we proceeded to tear the roof off…i made fun of the cowbell player from pavement, and got quite the belly laugh from the uber-music educated wire/Chicago crowd…all the songs went off with out a hitch, and our raw rap classic Chicago audience blended quite well with the OM and wire appreciators… In the middle of the set.a group of wonderful people began to chant. "we love dax"…and before I knew it they were making me cry…it really grounded the set in not only the music we make, but weight of our world, and more so in the wonder of dax's touch…as I realized that he is a product of such things as WIRE magazine, having read every issue cover to cover, and having been the one who saw subtle as a band when we were just his acquaintances…and it gave a sense of order and purpose to our sovereign set and place in the night's entertainment…
And then we scuttled our gear from the stage, very happy indeed, making way for the several amped wattage of OM…
As I made for the merch booth later in the night…i was stopped by a gentleman.who said "I bought you a beer".still a bit in my on-stage mode I shyly said thanks and kept my head down…the gentleman then said "it's been twenty years"…and I thought…who the fuck would say something like that to me…or better yet who the fuck would I have known for twenty years…and as I look up, I realize.it is none other than alex Levine…my best friend from the ages of 8 years old to 12…who I never saw again after my parents got divorced and repelled away from each other…
So there we are 20 years later lookin into the child eyes of an old friend hung in the adult face of the men we are…it made for a truly magical night for me.I got to meet his wonderful wife, and talk about the "everything" that we don't know about each other. In fact "dead cat clear" the themselves song, is written at a memory's length about a dead and half mummified cat that was wrapped in decaying news paper and hidden beneath alex's porch…in weehawken new jersey.
And the night came trickling to a close, as we headed back to patrick's wonderful home, and slept our weary selves sober…for a healthy and hearty 6 hours…
9/24 drive day
we awoke to a nice vegan breakfast burrito-ing.as jesse and Patrick cooked up a small storm…we petted cats and dogs, and drank coffee at a gardens mercy…
Bills were payed online, and I washed my ever so rancid show outfit…
I don't know what it is about my profusely sweating self…but my seven-show soaked outfit smells like a burlap sack full of ten burning man vaginas and a pinch of vineagar…i may look rich and powerful up there but I have the scent of a pauper for sure…
So we left at around two.and the rest was straight driving…
We listened to…
Patricks cd collection.
Shellac
These arms are snakes.
Storm and stress
Fly pan am.
Windy and carl
And some neil hamburger pranks from 92…
Always a pleasure.
We arrived in pittsburg late that night…
Alex and marty signed cd booklets while jeff cell-phoned the night away…
And good sleep was had by all.
9/25 baltimore Maryland
and the day began at bob evans…we all ate grease, and I drew a rather revolting nativity scene with the kids crayons and my placemat…
Hopefully today, I will find my clear skull at a pennsylvania truck stop…
Last time jeff and I played Baltimore, was sept 13th 2001, two days after we were stranded in none other than nyc for September 11th…
It was a morbid affair.but I expect this to be a bit more pleasurable…
Ahh the half-packed show…it comes for you.when you most expect it…it is a slow affair.gradually asking your body to tire before its absence of crowd…
And nearly denying you the energy that bounces off the few fine folks who attend…
It was a pleasure to play with rosetta stoned, after much hastle and rigamarole…They have the glow.and they have each other to improve by, I expect to see good things come of them…
We had Indian food.
And jeff's l.e.d. on the mpc went out…tragic glitch but hopefully we can find a way around it…until jeff wins a grammy.and can buy a new one…
Or until he gets a deal producing the soundtrack for a disney movie, about two mics that are left alone in a shoebox in harlem, under a bed…and then one day…this mom comes into clean out her son's room, who was shot in a driveby…and she throws the two mics in the garbage, where they meet an old cassette tape , a broken record, and a cockaroacha played by robin williams…and then the five of them go on an adventure to 118th st…to buy some chocolate thai.,,and they get arrested by these two d,t,'s who always stop people with new jersey plates, or any pair of talking mics that hang out with a cassette and an old broken record…
So long story short, the cassette and record end up in juvie, cause they have no traceable parents…the cockaroacha dies.beneath a whore's high heel spike.
And the two mics are sent to a pawn shop in the bronx.where a greek gentleman marks them up too high and they simply sit, destined to collect dust, just like the heart of rap twitching dull in the chest of today's teens…
>Read Part Three
*****
9/18 drive day.
heading to salt lake.we plan to stop in boise this evening…ahh boise…ahh motel 6 in boise…infact, this is the very motel six where I did the intro to "dark sky demo"…rapping on the streets of Idaho.
We stopped in Bellingham, to do banking.and unbroke ourselves…
We also picked up our stashed merch at the nightlight…and made for the ten hour drive…
Hopefully today I will find a "clear" skull at a truck stop…my last one was stolen from the edge of my keyboard stand.in london…
I cracked into the next subtle record writing today…adding to a few of it's fetal poems and half tales…someparts look to be great…with a ton of elbow grease and reapproaching.and some parts are great already…
One day it will be done.
And the day was done without acquisition of a second clear skull…
We arrived at boise at 4 am…dead tired and so on…
The hotel was a place of ghosts and the heavy set…
We awoke at 8:30…to make it to SLC the next day by 3…
9/19 Salt lake city UT
well I'll be damned…
You can always expect one show that will, broadside you…sometimes in a positive way.sometimes negative.
Well this was all positive…we did about 250 folks on a Tuesday night.in salt lake no less…
And more than that they were a genuine crowd of the good hearted and.drunk…fine folks.
Really helps us pry the lid off of being in the moment, and have an exceptional 110% percent night…
The nice people at slug magazine handed me a trophy just after a tale of apes I&II…it read … "subtle…cross-genre achievment award"…apparently it was a poetic gesture and attempt to tie in my tale about smuggling john peel trophys a few years ago…it made us very happy indeed…
I also got the chance to see Brisk, a graffiti writer from slc.and old friend of mine…he is the gentleman who pressed "hemispheres" on vinyl some 8 years ago now…it reminded me of a definite and glorious time he, dibbs, jel, j.rawls, fatjohn, and myself had coming up in the rap game…
We also saw adverse…a dear old friend and fellow freestyle heavyweight…
So, in the beginning of the evening.a nice fellow comes up to me, and hands me a painted truckers hat…which says my name and has a bee on it…unbeknownst to him bees are my achille's heel…
And then he reminds me that he gave me a painting of a bird last time we were intown…and I recalled his face, and told him that said bird painting was hanging in my hallway at home amongst our many hung things…and he smiled…
Apparently he is one of the more gifted writers in SLC.
Anyhow…so every once in a blue moon, our thought loving audience decides to get violent.and it truly puzzles me…when I crunch dice in my fist and hollar M-class kill…by no means do I mean punch thy neighbor…
So…just as we begin the last song in the set…swanmeat…i see the nice graffiti writing guy sort of pushing and pulling with people in the front row…it quickly aggravates…and we are still only on the swanmeat intro…i then see him basically swinging on these four 5 foot tall sweetheart young ladiess in the front row…
At which point two local press people, who were on the guestlist and very civil folks…take it upon themselves to try and drag angry graffiti man out of the crowd,.. which only makes things worse…mind you we are now only finishing the first verse of swanmeat…
I have a few stone-set performance rules… one of which is…don't stop songs ever.don't give hecklers their undeserved attention…nor yell at the sound man…nor act like your guitar or midi-controller is broken…
So long story short we keep playing through the heart of the melee…and somewhere just before the end of the song…the graffiti writers girlfriend comes charging at the stage and she also throws this exorcist-esque fist flying fit.and the same two nice press folks drag her flailing limbs and all out to the street…
And that was that…the crowd and ourselves quickly brushed it off as a slight case of appreciative retardation…and continued rejoicing…
And we drove off into the thinned and crisp salt lake air to our waiting motel 6 cell for what would be three hours slumber…
9/20 DeNVER CO
and so we drove…dead tired on our empty sleep tanks through the dead of the day to the door of the club.
jeff and I were excited to see ravi…who directed the themselves and why? videos…
And we almost solved the case of the missing for hero : for fool vinyl…
But not yet…
All of us were rather spent for this evening.running on the watered down juice of three hours sleep…but we pulled our draw string tight and did our bestest…
The show was good, the whole front row was very talkative…and there were quite a few un-funny comedians there…
Nonetheless it was a good show…and the sleep after it was even better…
I lost my voice a bit.always happens…considering I had a flybynight flu for the last four days…i think my old boy throat did pretty well…
It will be nice to rest it in the rental car for the next 24 hours…
There was a thick air to the show…but not one that is unfamiliar to us.we first noticed it on our west coast tour after the car accident…our biggest fans, or closest folks rather…were looking at us differently…between dax missing and simply being worried about us.they sort of watched us like we were ghosts…
And it's a heavy yet undeniable way to be watched…
Luckily it fades after the first time folks see us again…
At first it alarmed us, but then made a perfect sense…i would hope that at the very least our art makes an emotional connection to those who take it in…and this reaction to our ordeal and the weathering of it…proves there is a vested connection after all…
9/21 Drive day
well today is a heavy day.
today is the day we all drive past the sight of our car accident.
and we somehow all know we will recognize the empty grass and highway stretch where all went so terribly wrong for us…
And while we are not entirely sentimental or superstitious people.the act of driving past the very point where all went black, for the first time…is somehow deeply unsettling and a task to get over with at the same time…
At least we began the day with dax's favorite road food…'THE uncle Hershal's breakfast" at cracker barrel…it is the champagne of shitty breakfasts…catfish eggs and hash browns.grits and biscuits…we rejoiced and thought of dax with all our hearts…
I also bought the "talking tucan" again.since it was such a big hit on our former themselves tour…nothing like making a cute plush chicken say "fuck"…and other things far too grotesque and dirty minded for this here tour diary…
And so we hit the mid America…
I burned some cd's for the car.
Battles…
A classic rap collage.
The subtle6 mix…
Bracken…(the new chris adams of hood record)
At wal-mart I bought enough plastic forks to last the whole tour…
I also bought a clear shower curtain liner and a can of proper red krylon to make portable blood puddles out of…
Our plan for this evening is to record our acoustic set in the motel6 tonight.as to not simply suffer the burden of our sensitive and dearly dax missing selves…
It would be the least sulking thing to do.and so it shall be done…
8 hours later…
Alex and marty decided to keep driving into iowa…marty sat on his glasses, and they wanted to get them fixed in minny…
So Jordan and I signed three hundred copies of the for hero : for fool cd booklet…while watching twilight zone…
No acoustic recording session tonight…
I dreamt.
I was the guardian of this one square block in brooklyn…
And the woman who lived below me, had three daughters.all of which were being terrorized on their way home from school…one of them was beaten to a pulp…the day before.
So I take to the corner and find these three hoods…i proceed to mutilate them with my bare hands…i actually snap one mans jaw with my two hands, like tarzan would an alligator…until this store owner pulls me off of them.
A few hours later I leave my apartment, to get a soda at the corner store…
I am quickly surrounded by a group of 10 to 12 hoods…
The leader a 6 foot 5 puerto rican cat…takes out a day-glo green box cutter…two men grab my left arm…The leader puts a silver dollar on the top side of my thumb…and then pulls the box cutter toward it…severing my thumb…
Then I woke up…
9/22 minneapolis MN
so we woke an hour late to my stubourn and Canadian cell phone's time…
And hit the road…
We listened to some demo's
And the last fly pan am record…
We drove past the great nothing much of the Midwest grounds…big sky and dead crop a plenty…
At long last my stress-canker-sore disappeared…and I feel full-humanned again…
Tonight we play the seventh street entry…
Quite a few of my most memorable musical moments went down there…
The first time I rapped on stage with sean, tim, and bren, and jeff…
The first time jeff and I performed 'it's them' and quite a few of our then new songs…
Our first packed themselves show ever…
A cathartic and classic show with circus and the whole anticon gang…
The first "the" fog show…which I had a recording of, given to me by LSD wez…
And the place where I met anna bloomstrand…who led me to andrew's door.
And in some ways I prefer it to the triple rock…it's a bit more built for speed…dark, low-ceilinged, and dingy…
I have still not found the clear skull I so desperately desire.
I caught jeff tracing rjd2's face in the car…he quickly drew a hitler mustache and hindu dot on it, as to try and confuse me…but I knew he was always copying rjddog at heart.
And we arrived, not to the clatter and scuttle of openers unknown to us…
Rather to the warm embrace of friends…
Tim and mike from fog were both there with their friend rob…and mel Gibson and the pants…who we have known of for many years now…
And it was a joy to play amongst friends.
The entry swoll itself with people, and a good time was had by all…
Probably the best show of the tour to date…no prisoners were taken…
We got tom see all our dear minny friends…from j-bird to big bear of fog…
So we giggled and rehashed all our inside jokes from the previous tour.and shared some of our still fermenting inside jokes from this tour…
Then bear lead us to andrew's fine home, where we secured patches of floor, and slept for three hours…
9/23 chicago IL
three hours later.we are all zombied out and assuming our position in our respective car seats…
And we half-slept our way to chi-tilla for the always wonderful WIRE festival…which jeff and dax and I played together some three years ago.
With black dice.and wolf parade…
This year our friends were frank rosaley & paul Flaherty… the punks and OM…always a medley when the wire caters…
The rain came pouring down as we stumbled through the ever clutterd stage arrangement, that is multi-band festival soundchecking…
So after a rather shitty soundcheck.we began to drink beers and enjoy the empty bottle ambiance…
A few moments later…dun dun dun…the for hero : for fool vinyl arrived…
And after 6 months of nail biting.I finally could lay out the boardgame before me…and much to my un-chagrin…it lined up perfectly.and all the game pieces fit like a charm…
I had been secretly fearing that all my meticulous boardgame crafting would be for naught…but alas, every so often best laid plans actually work…
My second favorite surprise of the show was "radley"…the old black venue cat.who boldly trounced across our merch booth and snuggled up in the t-shirt bin…he also shared catfish tacos with me some two hours later.
My new friends from ONO magazine were there.and it's wonderful to put faces to names and complete the circuit so to speak…we also got to spend some sped up but quality time around rob lowe…perennial good guy and great musician of the empty bottle, 90 day men, and Chicago acclaim…
And so the mayhem ensued.
frank rosaley & paul Flaherty were great.they had never met before this evening…and it was a rather inspired scronk-a-thon…which is a difficult thing to pull off, especially when you don't know your fellow improviser…or maybe that makes it even easier…
Then came the punks…not so much my thing.or maybe it is…who's to say.
Four nice folks playing an un-song for about 20 minutes…it was like a live interlude in the context of the night…
And then we played to a packed empty bottle…and the reception was nothing less than wondrous…great people make for great shows…
And we proceeded to tear the roof off…i made fun of the cowbell player from pavement, and got quite the belly laugh from the uber-music educated wire/Chicago crowd…all the songs went off with out a hitch, and our raw rap classic Chicago audience blended quite well with the OM and wire appreciators… In the middle of the set.a group of wonderful people began to chant. "we love dax"…and before I knew it they were making me cry…it really grounded the set in not only the music we make, but weight of our world, and more so in the wonder of dax's touch…as I realized that he is a product of such things as WIRE magazine, having read every issue cover to cover, and having been the one who saw subtle as a band when we were just his acquaintances…and it gave a sense of order and purpose to our sovereign set and place in the night's entertainment…
And then we scuttled our gear from the stage, very happy indeed, making way for the several amped wattage of OM…
As I made for the merch booth later in the night…i was stopped by a gentleman.who said "I bought you a beer".still a bit in my on-stage mode I shyly said thanks and kept my head down…the gentleman then said "it's been twenty years"…and I thought…who the fuck would say something like that to me…or better yet who the fuck would I have known for twenty years…and as I look up, I realize.it is none other than alex Levine…my best friend from the ages of 8 years old to 12…who I never saw again after my parents got divorced and repelled away from each other…
So there we are 20 years later lookin into the child eyes of an old friend hung in the adult face of the men we are…it made for a truly magical night for me.I got to meet his wonderful wife, and talk about the "everything" that we don't know about each other. In fact "dead cat clear" the themselves song, is written at a memory's length about a dead and half mummified cat that was wrapped in decaying news paper and hidden beneath alex's porch…in weehawken new jersey.
And the night came trickling to a close, as we headed back to patrick's wonderful home, and slept our weary selves sober…for a healthy and hearty 6 hours…
9/24 drive day
we awoke to a nice vegan breakfast burrito-ing.as jesse and Patrick cooked up a small storm…we petted cats and dogs, and drank coffee at a gardens mercy…
Bills were payed online, and I washed my ever so rancid show outfit…
I don't know what it is about my profusely sweating self…but my seven-show soaked outfit smells like a burlap sack full of ten burning man vaginas and a pinch of vineagar…i may look rich and powerful up there but I have the scent of a pauper for sure…
So we left at around two.and the rest was straight driving…
We listened to…
Patricks cd collection.
Shellac
These arms are snakes.
Storm and stress
Fly pan am.
Windy and carl
And some neil hamburger pranks from 92…
Always a pleasure.
We arrived in pittsburg late that night…
Alex and marty signed cd booklets while jeff cell-phoned the night away…
And good sleep was had by all.
9/25 baltimore Maryland
and the day began at bob evans…we all ate grease, and I drew a rather revolting nativity scene with the kids crayons and my placemat…
Hopefully today, I will find my clear skull at a pennsylvania truck stop…
Last time jeff and I played Baltimore, was sept 13th 2001, two days after we were stranded in none other than nyc for September 11th…
It was a morbid affair.but I expect this to be a bit more pleasurable…
Ahh the half-packed show…it comes for you.when you most expect it…it is a slow affair.gradually asking your body to tire before its absence of crowd…
And nearly denying you the energy that bounces off the few fine folks who attend…
It was a pleasure to play with rosetta stoned, after much hastle and rigamarole…They have the glow.and they have each other to improve by, I expect to see good things come of them…
We had Indian food.
And jeff's l.e.d. on the mpc went out…tragic glitch but hopefully we can find a way around it…until jeff wins a grammy.and can buy a new one…
Or until he gets a deal producing the soundtrack for a disney movie, about two mics that are left alone in a shoebox in harlem, under a bed…and then one day…this mom comes into clean out her son's room, who was shot in a driveby…and she throws the two mics in the garbage, where they meet an old cassette tape , a broken record, and a cockaroacha played by robin williams…and then the five of them go on an adventure to 118th st…to buy some chocolate thai.,,and they get arrested by these two d,t,'s who always stop people with new jersey plates, or any pair of talking mics that hang out with a cassette and an old broken record…
So long story short, the cassette and record end up in juvie, cause they have no traceable parents…the cockaroacha dies.beneath a whore's high heel spike.
And the two mics are sent to a pawn shop in the bronx.where a greek gentleman marks them up too high and they simply sit, destined to collect dust, just like the heart of rap twitching dull in the chest of today's teens…
>Read Part Three