7.14.11
On to Milwaukee…
We finally dealt with the van not starting this morning in chicago. cb and i took ol' blu to a shop and had the alternator tested, and sure enough, that was the problem. some precious cash and time left our hands and we were ready to head to Milwaukee to play the afterparty of an Underwear Critical Mass Bike Ride.
The drive was beautiful, and the air was dry and cool heading up the lake. We got a late start, so we missed the actual bike ride, but I got everyone to pledge that we were playing tonight's show in our underwear.
the bar… Hotel Foster… was a really cute spot, big room, and John the owner was super accommodating and helpful.
…wish I could say the same for all the rookie bands we shared the bill with, who didn't want to lend out any gear to us but felt entitled to borrow equipment from us!
Evan and I hit the bar, Cb caught a quick nap, and Brandon set up the merch table. That doesn't sound fair, I know.
We immediately made some friends in Brew City and had a great time waiting for the naked ones to show up. We were offered a place to stay for the night, but my cred in that department is shot to sh*t in Milwaukee considering what happened last time I let my flirtations deviate the band from its pre-established place to crash… once upon a time….
We played in Brew City two years ago and we were supposed to stay with Steve (our host and the guy who books our shows here - super rad dude!). I seem to recall meeting this cute girl who dug what you might call a mustache and scruff on my face.
She said we should all crash with her & her roommates, and I had some spirits in my blood and thought it a great idea.
Long story short, we end up in girls pajamas, holding kittens, watching movies and passing out in a pile on a mattress only to wake up to disgruntled roommates who have no qualms kicking us out in the early morning hours. I think they might have even kicked pat as he lay half alive on the kitchen floor in his sleeping bag.
That was the end of my credibility in Milwaukee. So naturally, when we were so kindly offered a floor this evening, I insisted our would-be host clear it with every other band member, and that I had no authority on the subject.
The pilsners were poured, and in poured the smelly naked folk with backpacks and face paint and underwear. Any of you who know seth embry and sara jackson might better understand this scene as their worst nightmare. The fun was just beginning.
The first band played, and soon enough the crowd reached about 200 or so. there was a photographer upstairs by a balcony taking group portraits of scantily clad and sometimes naked cyclists with a flash umbrella. We loaded our gear onstage and off with our clothing!
For the first time ever, I looked around the room and saw not only a sea of skin waiting for a rock show to commence, but my own beloved band mates, all skin n' bones, holding instruments in their undies.
It was incredible.
We rocked hard, I was looking' at CB every now and again and saw a big grin all over his face. Evan was super concentrated as usual, and Brandon was in Brandonland, only it was a naked Brandonland, which only made his stage presence more intriguing. I'm not doubting that the audience felt the same way.
WELL…… and here's the big finale….
we get to our last song in the set, poised and ready to go, when all of a sudden some big naked dude tries to climb over a couch flanking the stage, loses what little balance a night of drinking and doing acid and whatever other drugs these hippies were on, and falls flat on our 1970's Fender Rhodes piano, atop of which we have our mackie mixer, effects processors, cables, etc. It all came crashing down as his mammoth nakedness was too much weight for the keyboard stand to withstand.
In one split second, a whirlwind night of amazing absurdity and craziness came to a record-scratching slam-on-the-breaks screeching halt as we all stood in horror, mouths agape, skinny white legs tensed, panties all literally in a twist.
…
We snap back into reality, drop our instruments, run to the Rhodes, try to resuscitate it (i think its fine), grab it and pull it up from the ground, plant it on the piano stool, gather all our gear and wires from the ground, and call it a night. Our PA was smashed too, laying underneath the Rhodes.
Quite a sobering moment. We broke down our gear as the last band rushed the stage quite insensitively, because time was short and they wanted to play more than one song before the bar closed. I understand it, but we could've used some help and some patience in a moment like this.
Sure, if we were some local band who had some bad luck that night I can see steam rolling over us to try to get a song in, but c'mon dudes, we are from NYC, traveling across the whole nation with all our own gear on a hope and a prayer, barely making gas money at each show, dealing with a breaking down van and trailer tires all along the way, doing all of our own work, and on top of it, covering your cherry-asses when you can't even bring your own mics to your own local bar!
Plus, don't forget, everyone is naked.
Christ almighty…
We got everything sorted and loaded back in the van as the bar closed down, said a fond farewell to John from Hotel Foster, and tried to get our place to stay for the night figured out. At this point Steve, who orchestrated a truly incredible evening with hundreds of crazy folks at a great venue, seemed a bit overwhelmed with tasks and was having a little trouble procuring a place to stay.
We huddled, and decided to hit the nearest diner and high tail it back to Chicago!!!
A few chocolate chip pancakes and jalapeno quesadillas later we were on the road watching the sun rise over lake michigan, the events of the night dancing like sugar plums with skulls branded on them across our brains. Evan cranked some Elvis Costello and might have taken some speed, cause he heroically zipped us down the cost in no time and, dear reader, when this rockstar awoke we were parked outside Sharon & Chris' apartment, ready to sleep more until they woke up for work to let us in.
We finally crossed the threshold and crashed hard on our gracious host's couches once more, the gentle chicago breeze wafting over our sweaty barebacks from a quiet fan in the window…
that's all for now. tomorrow is a much-needed day off, planning for a new st louis show, and then gearing up for our big push out west…..
G'nite.
m
