"I just can't wait to get on the road again..."
As I posted below, I went out on my first real tour last week. Here are some brief thoughts about the towns and shows:
Junker's Tavern in Cincinnati, Ohio, is a real shithole of a bar. I loved it. They had all kinds of cool metal and blues in the jukebox (including James Leg and my bandmate Mark Holder), and a great "dive" atmosphere. The crowd ate us up, and I can't wait to go back.
We stayed that night across the river in Dayton, Kentucky, with our friend (and bad-ass musician) Johnny Walker (formerly of the Soledad Brothers, and also the guy who taught Jack White how to play slide guitar).
The next day we went back into Cincinnati and had Skyline Chili (which is fucking delicious), then back into Dayton, KY, to check out The Lodge Recording Studio. Owned by the aforementioned Johnny Walker, it is in a decommissioned Masonic temple, and it is both cool and weird as fuck.
The New Vintage in Louisville, Kentucky is also a neat venue, slightly reminiscent of the beloved Rhythm n'Brews that used to be here in Chattanooga. We played for four people (it was an odd, last-minute gig without any promotion or opening act), but those four really liked us. That night we slept in Dead Bird Studio through the kindness of a mutual acquaintance. Sleeping on a couch in a studio that is still under construction is pretty cool, I must say.
The Springwater Supper Club in Nashville is yet another cool dive. I had been led to believe that it was the shittiest of shitholes, but apparently the Black Keys decided to shoot a video there, so it has been considerably cleaned and spiffed up. We shared a bill with Ten Foot Polecat (from Boston) and Ted Drozdowski's Scissormen (from Nashville, and friends of ours), and it was a great night. Too bad that nobody who was not in or associated with the bands (or bar staff) was there to see it. Nevertheless, we played well, and we got the added bonus of staying with Doug's friends, Matt and Katie, who are tattooed weirdo artist freaks, and a genuine pleasure to be around.
The next day was a five or six hour drive to Clarksdale, Mississippi. We stayed at the Shack Up Inn, on the site of an old plantation. Most of the lodgings are in old slave quarters.
A quick aside: Heather said, "There's no way I'd stay there! It's bound to be haunted." I replied to her, "Baby, Mississippi feels haunted. Not just the shacks, not just the old plantation, not the town of Clarksdale... the whole fucking state feels as if there are ghosts everywhere watching you," and that's the God's honest truth. That probably deserves a post of its own, but I must say here that being in the Mississippi Delta country was a deeply moving experience.
Mark played a solo gig that night at Red's, which is a legendary juke joint in Clarksdale. We got fed there, and I'm here to tell you that Tennessee barbecue hasn't got SHIT on Mississippi barbecue.
The next day we went to Abe's Barbecue and had pulled pork sandwiches and tamales for breakfast. Then we had our only real leisure time of the entire trip, during which Mark and I sat on the porch of our shack and played guitar. Afterwards we loaded up and played a full-band busking gig inside a bar/restaurant (whose name I cannot recall), but that was friggin' rad. Everyone there got a kick out of us, including the folks who owned the place.
We went back to the Shack Up Inn and I took a little nap before our show that night. The old Cotton Gin building for the plantation has been converted into sleeping quarters and a bar/music venue known as The Chapel. The Chapel is fucking amazing. The building is full of all kinds of random shit, but it's also got quite a bit of historical equipment in there, too, and to be on that elevated stage was almost a spiritual experience.
We played first, followed by Johnny Walker's band "All Seeing Eyes", then Chattanooga's own James Leg (real name: John Myers, and Mark's former bandmate in the Black Diamond Heavies). All of our shows on this tour leading up to that night had us honed to a pretty damned sharp edge, and we blew the place away. They were all familiar to one degree or another with Mark's solo show (acoustic Delta Blues), but they did not expect to see three gorillas who'd learned to play instruments with both power and finesse, and I think we proved to be a delightful surprise to everyone there.
The next morning Mark gave a fan a harmonica lesson on the porch of our shack, then we headed back to Chattanooga, about a six hour drive.
Life on the road is hard. It has its own rhythm that you fall into pretty quickly, and time seems to move very, very slowly, as you're packing a lot of experiences into a very short amount of time. I missed Heather terribly, as she missed me, and I can't lie and say that that part doesn't suck. At the same time, I have seldom felt so very alive, traveling from place to place with people whose company I truly enjoy, to do the thing I was put on this Earth to do.
My days as a maker of sawmills draws VERY fucking nigh.
Junker's Tavern in Cincinnati, Ohio, is a real shithole of a bar. I loved it. They had all kinds of cool metal and blues in the jukebox (including James Leg and my bandmate Mark Holder), and a great "dive" atmosphere. The crowd ate us up, and I can't wait to go back.
We stayed that night across the river in Dayton, Kentucky, with our friend (and bad-ass musician) Johnny Walker (formerly of the Soledad Brothers, and also the guy who taught Jack White how to play slide guitar).
The next day we went back into Cincinnati and had Skyline Chili (which is fucking delicious), then back into Dayton, KY, to check out The Lodge Recording Studio. Owned by the aforementioned Johnny Walker, it is in a decommissioned Masonic temple, and it is both cool and weird as fuck.
The New Vintage in Louisville, Kentucky is also a neat venue, slightly reminiscent of the beloved Rhythm n'Brews that used to be here in Chattanooga. We played for four people (it was an odd, last-minute gig without any promotion or opening act), but those four really liked us. That night we slept in Dead Bird Studio through the kindness of a mutual acquaintance. Sleeping on a couch in a studio that is still under construction is pretty cool, I must say.
The Springwater Supper Club in Nashville is yet another cool dive. I had been led to believe that it was the shittiest of shitholes, but apparently the Black Keys decided to shoot a video there, so it has been considerably cleaned and spiffed up. We shared a bill with Ten Foot Polecat (from Boston) and Ted Drozdowski's Scissormen (from Nashville, and friends of ours), and it was a great night. Too bad that nobody who was not in or associated with the bands (or bar staff) was there to see it. Nevertheless, we played well, and we got the added bonus of staying with Doug's friends, Matt and Katie, who are tattooed weirdo artist freaks, and a genuine pleasure to be around.
The next day was a five or six hour drive to Clarksdale, Mississippi. We stayed at the Shack Up Inn, on the site of an old plantation. Most of the lodgings are in old slave quarters.
A quick aside: Heather said, "There's no way I'd stay there! It's bound to be haunted." I replied to her, "Baby, Mississippi feels haunted. Not just the shacks, not just the old plantation, not the town of Clarksdale... the whole fucking state feels as if there are ghosts everywhere watching you," and that's the God's honest truth. That probably deserves a post of its own, but I must say here that being in the Mississippi Delta country was a deeply moving experience.
Mark played a solo gig that night at Red's, which is a legendary juke joint in Clarksdale. We got fed there, and I'm here to tell you that Tennessee barbecue hasn't got SHIT on Mississippi barbecue.
The next day we went to Abe's Barbecue and had pulled pork sandwiches and tamales for breakfast. Then we had our only real leisure time of the entire trip, during which Mark and I sat on the porch of our shack and played guitar. Afterwards we loaded up and played a full-band busking gig inside a bar/restaurant (whose name I cannot recall), but that was friggin' rad. Everyone there got a kick out of us, including the folks who owned the place.
We went back to the Shack Up Inn and I took a little nap before our show that night. The old Cotton Gin building for the plantation has been converted into sleeping quarters and a bar/music venue known as The Chapel. The Chapel is fucking amazing. The building is full of all kinds of random shit, but it's also got quite a bit of historical equipment in there, too, and to be on that elevated stage was almost a spiritual experience.
We played first, followed by Johnny Walker's band "All Seeing Eyes", then Chattanooga's own James Leg (real name: John Myers, and Mark's former bandmate in the Black Diamond Heavies). All of our shows on this tour leading up to that night had us honed to a pretty damned sharp edge, and we blew the place away. They were all familiar to one degree or another with Mark's solo show (acoustic Delta Blues), but they did not expect to see three gorillas who'd learned to play instruments with both power and finesse, and I think we proved to be a delightful surprise to everyone there.
The next morning Mark gave a fan a harmonica lesson on the porch of our shack, then we headed back to Chattanooga, about a six hour drive.
Life on the road is hard. It has its own rhythm that you fall into pretty quickly, and time seems to move very, very slowly, as you're packing a lot of experiences into a very short amount of time. I missed Heather terribly, as she missed me, and I can't lie and say that that part doesn't suck. At the same time, I have seldom felt so very alive, traveling from place to place with people whose company I truly enjoy, to do the thing I was put on this Earth to do.
My days as a maker of sawmills draws VERY fucking nigh.