Your ride is here

For the past three days I've been answering questions and smiling. And I've been explaining a lot. I have a formula: I say how even though I don't have a job I still have quite a bit planned once I touch down. "Well I'll be in this language class with other immigrants..." and, "I have some shows booked that I'm really excited about. Look, here's my train tickets..." just to prove that I haven't conjured up a whole scenario.

My music making and performance ongoings have become the talk of the family over the past few days. My album is circulating in Jeep Cherokees around the Chicagoland area. The first critique is in:

My mom and my grandmother listened to some of my CD while they were in the car today. My grandmother got back and said she liked the "echo" that was on my voice. I explained how people double-tracked vocals to get a sort of effect. This sort of tech talk impresses. Then, she said, "One of your songs reminded me of the time my son was living with a girlfriend..." She continued on and told me a story about how her son would buy a six pack of beer and go drink it in the park to delay the return to his unfortunate home life and failing relationship. I didn't know how to respond. Are my lyrics that see-through? Do I come off sounding that bad? Wait, I don't have any songs that simply say how unhappy I am; its' not my style and it's totally not true. And then she comes back in the room with, "I didn't mean to say that song made me feel sorry for you. It just reminded me of that story." Sweet, I'm going to move loads of units with the retirees. I remind them of their sons getting wasted in public.

But God I love my family. They're asking these questions because they honestly care. A group of them are in the other room rooting on the White Sox. I'm going to go join them in a minute. I guess I want the White Sox to win tonight. I just want them to go to bed happy. When my stepdad (read: Dad) gets home from work tomorrow I'll be blasting through cold air thousands of miles away. I won't be around to share a beer and talk about stuff. Mom and gradma are driving me to the airport tomorrow afternoon. I'm not sure what we'll listen to on the ride up. I'll probably tell stories.

Fort Comfort

I'm in Chicago, sitting on the floor of my old apartment. I suppose it's weird to be a guest and not a permanent resident. There's, counting myself, three dudes here and we're all online simultaneously. No one is talking; ESPN is on the unwatched television. I'm waiting to head over to the Empty Bottle for my final US show for a while. I've decided to not use my laptop beats for any songs tonight because it makes me nervous and "less loose." We can't have me being so unloose, especially tonight. Bare bones, honest, you like that sort of stuff?

I'm hoping lots of my Chicago friends come out tonight. I really want to say some goodbyes in person. And since I've been living outside of the city and/or on tour for the past few weeks I haven't seen many of them as much as I'd wanted to. That's enough about all of that.

Last night in Cleveland I finally got to spend some time with Rickard from Svenskamusikklubben. He's one of the sweetest guys and thankfully my new booking agent. He's in America for a short bit and was nice enough to make the trek from Detroit to the show. I'll remember a few things about last night: the smell of chicken wings that were being served from the bar (gross), Rickard's experimentation with various Smirnoff flavored malt beverages (awesome to watch, not to drink!), how sweet he and Betty Marie look together (double awesome!) and that I don't ever want to play a club again that serves chicken wings and plays the baseball game in the same room that the music is happening. This was more of a student center, not really a club. Lots of random stuff happening all at once. I sorta played like shit too.

Jeff and I drove back to Chicago after the show. Five and a half hours later we were back in this afore mentioned abode ready for tons of sleep. This little tour proved to be really fun and rewarding. A proper thank you list would be too long and I'd just forget someone really important. So, if we hung out in the last week: you rule and yes, your couch was beyond comfortable and yes, I will have some more coffee.

Creeping east

+Columbus, Ohio hello. Day off, little to do but much to think about.

+N. Manchester, Indiana is home to the world's best all ages venue. It's called The Firehouse. The amount of positive vibes that float around this place is insane. Thank you to Jason Anderson and Tiger Saw for a super amazing night.

+Jackie Sage's apartment is filled with wonderful books and art and flooring and ceiling fans.

+Tourmate Jeff Dekker can navigate detours on country roads that have names like NW 2220 E. way better than anyone I've ever met.

+The Houston Astros are pretty amazing and I'm going to knock on a piece of wood right now. Done.

+I want to see everyone at the Empty Bottle on Thursday night. I need to say some goodbyes and do this right.

Product

Sorry about the three posts in a row with images all sporting my name. But it's sorta that time when I go out and do this self-promoting thing that you either really enjoy or despise. Luckily, whatever's cool with me.

My debut 'Adventure, Bless and Don't Be Sorry' has arrived. It's not going to be officially released until January 2006...but, since Luna music/Recordhead are sitting on a stockpile of the CD's they are making them exclusively available via their mail order staring early next week. You can also get them at all of my upcoming shows.

What else, oh so my last day at the job is tomorrow and a girl here just came up to me and asked, "Do you like alcohol?" Hmm, interesting. I'm hoping this is just a curious question and not a part of some scheme she is working up for a last day at work party. God, I just want to walk out of here with the exchange of some friendly verbal goodbyes. No reason to drag this out and get me drunk/ugly.

Tonight! Oh my, City on Film and Firebird Band over there at the Beat Kitchen. I've been looking forward to this for like, well, a few days! Really, should be a good one.

Please, please, if I'm coming to your town (or within a reasonable distance) please try and check out a show or five...I like you and I want to stare at you.

Final fantasies

'Twas one of those weekends of TCB. I sold my car, bought new shoes and put money in the bank, most of which will be taken immediately out when I pay those pesky estimated taxes that came along with this contract job. Oh yeah, job, this is my last week here. After that it's a jaunt on the road playing shows around the Midwest...



10.15.05 - North Manchester, In - Firehouse (w. Jason Anderson)
10.16.05 - Columbus, Oh - Andyman's Treehouse (w. Eric Metronome)
10.18.05 - Indianapolis, In - Big Car Gallery (Found Magazine event)
10.19.05 - Cleveland, Oh - Case University (w. Jens Lekman, Nedelle)
10.20.05 - Chicago, Il - Empty Bottle (w. Jens Lekman, Nedelle)
Also, over the summer I recorded a live set via telephone for Brown University's 'Phoning It In' radio show. Transmitted from my bedroom to digital recording device in Providence, RI, it's available here.

Take back the night from them

My namesake tagged on a South Park pinball machine somewhere in Atlanta, Georgia. Photo by Steve Znavor. Steve is the drummer for The Firebird Band; they're on tour now and I'd go check them if I were you, but I'm not, so you'll have to make it on your own.

I'm in a really bad place in terms of quality coffee consumption. See kids, I'm holed up with my parents for a couple weeks in between here and there. Currently I'm without my own coffeemaker and the swill Mom and Dad drink is unacceptable. So I've tried a few other options that lie between me and the New Lenox Metra train station:

Option one: BP's "Wild Bean" coffee selection. I don't care what name you give it, this is coffee from the inside of a gas station. It's not wild at all. In fact it's the opposite, tasteless and extremely unwild.

Option two: Inside the train station lies Java Junction. Clever, and convenient! Now Java Junction has espresso drinks on their menu which led me to believe that their coffee would be higher quality. Nope, watered-down swill.

I'm in need of some seriously strong and tasty French pressed brew. This will have to wait until the weekend, as I'm beyond my coffee section of the morning, unsatisfied.

Gotta get back in time

Ok kids, time to jump in the time machine and head back, way back, to 1983. At six years old I hadn't swung anything more than a Wiffle bat or even held a real baseball. Based on the fact that I was more concerned with Big Bird and chocolate milk than Jody Davis it's safe to say that what was happening over at Wrigley Field was of little importance in my world...

We know that in 1984 the Cubbies pulled it together and won the division, but a year before we had some major fucking problems. Why the F-bomb you ask? Oh, I'm just prepping you for what's to come.

Nowadays, regardless of how the Cubs play, it's near impossible to get a ticket unless you've made arrangements far ahead of time or have some big bucks to work with. Wrigleyville is considered hip and fun. So families, frat boys, tourists and Chicagoans alike make a whole day out of browsing around the neighborhood to feel a part of it all. I've got no problem with that. Although I prefer a back porch pregame party as opposed to a sports bar it's still an electrifying feeling to be in the mix.

But not always.

Back in 1983 the Cubs started out their season at a dismal 5-14. As the team went on to yet another loss the home town crowd showered the players with a chorus of boos. Oh yeah, there were less than 5,000 people in the stands that afternoon. Cubs manager Lee Elia was none too pleased with the locals' lack of support for his struggling club.

Lee Elia's post-game rant, April 29, 1983

Please note: I in NO WAY condone the website this clip comes from, it's just the only place I could quickly find the complete audio for it. But Cubs fan or not, this is classic. (and note: if you listen to this at work, use headphones)
Times, they have a' changed. The Cubs could start out next year 5-14 and still sell out every home game; that's how it's gonna be for the unforseable future. But maybe it will take a complete meltdown somehow, some way to fix all of the problems. I think it's going to have to get way worse before it can get better.

Numbers thirteen and one

There's been only a few shows I've ever played in my various formations that equaled the, on one hand trainwreck, and on the other super motivating and surreal experience that happened this weekend in Champaign. I don't think I looked at the crowd once Saturday night. I wanted to but I was having a hard enough time dealing with the rollercoaster of highs and lows that was bouncing around my head. It felt right; it felt wrong. And when the monitors emitted nothing but a clipped fuzz that was supposed to be my guitar I unplugged and ditched the entire idea of a microphone or an electronic beat or an amplified guitar and spilled my guts sans PA system. It's not the first time I've wanted to do this and I hope it's not the last time it happens.

Before the show I walked around Champaign-Urbana. The Fazoli's where I worked one summer (worst job of my life, possibly) was turned into a Chinese restaurant and I walked really far to get a Jimmy Johns veggie sandwich not knowing there was a way closer location, worth it though. I suppose the campus is as pretty as ever though and a nice change from my usual city environ. Before the show I met up with Larissa for a couple cocktails and some good conversation. She's been added to my list of far-out dudes.

The drive to and fro Champaign was shared with The Like Young in their new transport, very comfy! It was great getting to spend some time with them both and chat about the new and old. Based on their set, their new album is going to be killer. See them when you get a chance. Right about now I'm gonna go peep their release of covers on Tight Ship.

Stay tuned for news from the commute. Back in the suburbs for a two week stretch, then stuff starts to get really interesting.