Posted on August 23, 2010 at 01:49 AM
I’m at Starbucks, yet
again infuriated by their soulful light rock jams. Last week i got fucking Mad Cow Disease from a Jack Johnson song. -and today it’s Sheryl Crow, whose new
“fun-loving feel-good” album is throwing my hormones out of balance -shrinking
my garbage and giving me hot flashes.
I suppose I could leave… I should leave...but I need the wifi. (Plus, my tea rules; Orange Blossom. Smells like the Pledge I used to spray in my mouth as a kid.)
Let's give it a minute. Some deep breathing exercises should calm me. 1...2....3... “It’s only bad music, I’ll be fine. It’s only bad music. It’s only.." FUCK! DEMON OUT!!!!
OK, I’m on the verge of a straight up panic attack now. Upper lip sweat and everything. I’m actually scanning the corners of the floor on the off chance that there may be a pregnant earwig crawling around..
so I can pick it up, shove it in my ear and say, “Go on, little guy… Tunnel right in and build a gross-ass nest on my ear drum.. Lay a million eggs so they can hatch into larvae, digest my ear canal and hopefully, HOPEFULLY eat my brain... ANYTHING but this Volvo-khaki-oatmeal-control-top-nude-panty-hose-maxi-pad-summertime funk.
It’s so… VAGUELY PLEASING, and …and.. UTTERLY DEVOID OF SEX APPEAL! GOD this shit makes me lactate. Oh great. Now I just developed Apotemnophilia. Are you happy Sheryl Crow? Oh, what’s Apotemnophilia? Nothing much, just an irreversible mental disorder wherein the victim experiences an overwhelming need to amputate his/her own limbs. Look it up. Serious. Where were we.. OH yes the TOUR OF OUR LIVES PART 1
When we got official word that we’d be touring with The Smashing Pumpkins; a band we reference in EVERY interview as a main influence on our sound; -our Chicago hometown idols turned friends who drafted THE blueprint which bands like ours have attempted to emulate for over a decade, we KNEW it would be a monumental experience. …Well, we THOUGHT we knew… we actually had NO idea.
Shit got BIBLICAL.
Here’s PART I – collection of pics, vids, anecdotes, notes, stream of conscious memories, mental refuse.
Cleveland
It’s not a tour until you've written something classy on someone while they're sleeping.
We ambushed the 92.3 FM studio and pulled off an early morning cover of LoveSong for our great friend DJ Nard. (On no sleep, Dan had 30min in our hotel room to learn and combine all 4 guitar parts.)
Got our new tour Tshirts.
Met up with our good friends in Bad City, who we were excited to have along on the tour. (Tom, filled in for Jonny on our Euro tour back in 2009, and even played the blistering Strobe Lights solo on our new album)
Our new backdrops were constructed for the first time.
Pumpkins set was insane. (Hummer was highlight) and their lighting rig included 2 gigantic rotating metal fans with shattered mirrors glued to the blades.
Fan gave me a great journal
Bands are like marriages;
it’s the ones that laugh together that stay together...
With that in mind, I’d like to THANK Fieldy from Korn for releasing his accidentally genius rap album in 2003. In case you are unaware, Fieldy is a fully grown IDIOT. -and until this tour, whenever tensions ran too high, we'd turn to this gem: our secret weapon for laughter.
On the drive from Cleveland tho, something changed. We started getting our fix for unintentional humor from a different dealer: Mel Gibson. His rant tapes are pure, virgin, uncensored lunacy at it’s finest, and we got hooked instantly.
So I’d like to say, formally, THANK YOU, Braveheart, for helping to keep my band together. Your uncontrollable, psychotic episodes are like sweet chamber strings to our ears… the stitches you gave your wife on her chin are nothing compared to the stitches of laughter you gave to us and our crew.
Fuck the invention of fire; THIS is the greatest gift to mankind ever. Listen up: THIS is the sound of MEL GIBSON STABBING HIS CAREER IN THE URETHRA.
GRAND RAPIDS
Pulled into town passing a Cheesecake Factory, Panera Bread (we call it Pantera Bread), and a dozen other legit franchise eateries 3 blocks from the venue. Why am i scowling? Maybe because the last time we played this room, Dan and I ate Salsbury steak at a nursing home cafeteria next door cos we thought it was our only option. live n learn.
Met this young girl who had only survived brain surgery 14 days earlier. Billy gave her a very touching shout out from the stage. I showed her that i have scars on my head in the same spot.
Wore the new silver boots that Dr Martens sent me; Two separate incidents of fans getting kicked out of the show for urinating on other fans (that makes for an easy Tweet); Love the giant haunted Newport Theatre; chandeliers and ornate molding; going deaf to SP and loving it;
BALTIMORE
Great crowd. Got to watch Pumpkins set from a secret 4th floor balcony. Crab cakes; Owner of Angels Rock Bar escorted us to a private pouring of their famous Habanero shots; Dan and Maddox cowered like women. Wooter had 3; hung on a rooftop cabana in the rain; Day off spent like so many before-- in my hotel room alone writing blog, drinking a renowned 93pt wine out of Styrofoam cup w cheap pizza;
If you were a female rhino, would you fuck this guy?
As you can see, Towson, Maryland nightlife
has a lot to offer
Hey, 4th place isn't bad on my first try.
RICHMOND
Whenever we pass south of the Mason/Dixon Line, a chill runs down my spine.... give me Harlem gangsters over sexually repressed, savage hillbillies any day…
Had an unforgettable Ethiopian dinner with the Pumpkins; Waiter insists everyone use their hands, or these spongy pancakes that look and taste exactly like napkins. (I used the serving spoon); Classic war/tour stories from Billy;
Area known as ‘Carytown’ is cute as hell; vintage shops and bistros;
Swankest dressing room I’ve ever seen. Sauna, hot tub, etc… Even century-old murals on the walls:
Our hotel was in a ghetto wasteland, and the pool was
in the middle of the parking garage.
Norfolk, VA:
Amazing venue with huge dressing rooms, basketball court, saunas, jacuzzi. Half the band went to great afterhours party in private bar inside gay club.
Long hypnotic drive at night... saw a mile-long freight train go by.. couldn't help romanticizing the life of the engineer. What must his view be like.. the vastness.. the quiet. sleeping next to the warm engine... Dan and i both still harbor dreams of crossing the country as hobos.. we've done research too. not kidding.
CHARLOTTE, NC:
Overall, too much direct sunlight; Engine problems, pulled over on side of rural highway; Dan and I wandered into the woods; Kicked over tire revealing huge ant nest, all the soldiers swarming furiously to protect their pupae; I ate one. Had to. Survivorman is my fav show.
Found creepy tiny house deep in the woods which inexplicably had an old VW Karmann Ghia (one of my dream vintage cars) in garage.. tho no driveway. So many questions.
Killing time at mechanics, we all chipped in $20 for Wooter to lick Maddox’s leg; Most people my age lead very different lives.
CHARLESTON, SC:
Beautiful town steeped in
classic southern tradition and architecture…. ate oysters with Chardonnay; temp hot as fuck; sweat and B.O.; Greg says
my stage jacket is "fermenting"; Saw a wad of chewing tobacco in a urinal; voice getting
deep fried; I smell like a worm farm.
Found some surprisingly Nylon-styled locals at a dive bar;
Visited the plantations and mansions w RockerNeal…
Ancient trees covered in Spanish moss…swamps.. weird creatures, weird birds of prey, of which i am one
Got a brass octopus bracelet from a fan that i treasure. Wore every day on stage afterwards.
What will happen next? PART II coming NEXT
Tagged as: Current Affairs , Music , Travel
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Posted on August 2, 2010 at 05:18 AM
BIRMINGHAM
DISHEVELED. Disheveled. THAT'S the word I've been looking for.
11am-ish: I’m scuttling like Quasimoto thru the narrow cobblestone side streets of Birmingham (hometown of Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Duran Duran, etc…) It’s raining, of course.. but I can tell the locals here stopped giving a shit about that like 4,000 yrs ago... their babies are drenched in their strollers.. I guess if your Saxon ancestors ate coal, fought barbaric hoards, endured black plague and famine, a little water on your baby’s face when you’re walking to the mall ain’t no thang.
Boot
laces dragging behind me, I’m constantly pulling up the left side of my pants
since the London kids broke my suspenders at the Electric Ballroom… Suspenders are thorny accoutrement… I see my busted
reflection in a pharmacy window, and, combined with last night’s smeared make-up, i realize there’s fine line between ‘bohemian-esque lead singer’ and ‘out of work
trapeze artist.’
If
not for my All Access pass, all signs def point to me as being someone who sleeps
in a boxcar on hay.
Finally arrive at my favorite Goudi-inspired coffee house…the one with a cool view of a great Druid cathedral… Open the laptop.. I watch a few Ted.com lectures for inspiration.. then I hit YouTube... cos while my tea cools off and my clothes dry I’d love to see a quick vid of someone getting supremely JACKED… bonk!
Got lost on the way back.. missed 2 interviews… but met some cool young fans under a bridge who showed me the way… made it to the venue in time for a quick photo shoot with our favorite uk boutique, Disorder, whose designers set us up with some clever new coats.
In the dressing room I thumbed thru a book a fan had generously given me: The Early Ayn Rand. I opened to a random page:
“To give them what they want, but first teach them to want – to want with their own eyes, their own brains, their own hearts. To teach them to dream – then give the dream to them in steel and mortar, and let them follow it with dreams in muscle and blood. To make them true, Howard, to make them true to themselves and give them the selves, to kill the slave in them.”
Immediately brought me back to being 18 when I was obsessed with her.
We were all thrilled to learn that The Academy was sold out… we knew that meant that the show would be vicious… and it was. Beautifully so.
photos taken by drw-images
Met some loyal fans outside after… posed for pics and signed autographs for a while.. then something bizarre happened: the entire venue metamorphosized into one gigantic post-show Mega-club. The very room we had just played transformed into the “Official Black Eyed Peas Afterparty”, while the room next door became a metal/screamo dance party…if you can imagine such a thing.
(Close as i could get to Will.I.AM's Rolls Royce without getting tazed)
Ended
up rolling with the weirdness, swing-dancing to Disturbed and Refused ---and at 2am, seriously, 'weird' is fine (anything but 'bored'), but when two burly men started
passionately making out to Children of Bodom, we all simultaneously
decided that it might be best to conserve our energy for tomorrow night.
BRISTOL
Mother’s Day. (which, btw, is NOT a holiday in UK). If you have a musty summer cottage, and your dad forces you to help him “air it out” on the first day of the season... then you prob have a decent idea of what my stage clothes smell like today.. but then again, this is the LAST NIGHT of the TOUR so i kindly urge you to eat it :)
Final shows are always bittersweet symphonies… on one hand, the circus is coming to an end, and you know you’ll miss it… on the other hand, final shows ALWAYS provide the ultimate setting for tomfoolery, hijinx, and ballyhoo--- adult libations freely flow and cameras are fully charged, ready to make some memories.
a. Kidnapping Simon from My Passion mid song, holding him for ransom, then returning him wrapped completely in toilet paper.
b. Hosting the first ever KH Drum Battle Royale… 2 full drum kits on stage -M.C.’d by Dan with a top hat and cane
c.
Instructing the crowd to open their mouths while i threw thousands of Skittles
in the air… -all the while peppering the room with charming little nuggets
of hi-brow sophisticated banter such as, “Taste the fucking rainbow, Motherfuckers”
d. Fearlessly covering Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" for an encore medley with both bands on stage. At one point Simon even got on Greg’s shoulders for a human totem pole of bass majesty.
We sucked on such an intergalactic scale, that it's almost beautiful. A perfect disasterpiece on every level. What's WORSE than a train wreck? i don't know... a space shuttle wreck? See for yourselves.
The next morning we gather at the front of the bus for a pic, then make a dash for Heathrow airport.
They have a Ben and Jerry’s vending machine at our gate... smart. cha-ching, another American sucker. With the conversion rate I think it cost me like $27 for a scoop, but when one feels emotionally pulverized you can't put a price on comfort food. Don't judge.
Flight…reflecting back on the tour. At one point i looked down and saw glaciers.. ice floes like curdled milk.. awe-inspiring view..
literally took my breath away... i imagined being down there..i wanted to be down there. I stopped breathing for 3 minutes.. til the guy
next to me had another one of his half-asleep convulsions and kicked my shin.
Craned my neck and looked at my bandmates and crew. I can genuinely say, we are happy. This is the
tightest we’ve been in years… on and off stage, and i'm so proud of all of us. Xanax
starts kicking in and I sigh deeply. Hope i have good dreams about eskimos and arctic kings.. hope i have dreams about playing in UK and Europe again. i know i will.
Thank you Kerrang, Rock Sound, and Disorder, the KHK, raccoons, and all the first-time and long-time KH fans with adorable accents who made the Wake Up the Sleepers circus so blog-worthy.
Click HERE to follow Mat on Twitter. Click HERE to follow Kill Hannah on Twitter
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Posted on July 19, 2010 at 01:26 AM
11am Wake up in
my dry sub-Saharan bunk with my stocking cap pulled down over my face, sarcophagus
style… slept like a buried Pharaoh.. arms crossed over my chest.. silence. just the distant hum of the diesel bus engine and my irregular pulse thumping my inner ear. Cringe. Heartbeats wig me out. Once i got so bored waiting at Walgreens that i put my arm in that 25cent blood pressure machine and had a gigantic fucking meltdown in front of a bunch of old people. never again.
Lying there in the dark I also remember that yesterday I officially gave up trying to keep my clean and dirty clothes separated, which helps to explain why my entire wardrobe now smells like the dinosaur egg exhibit at the Museum of Natural History –
-Can't remember any dreams from last night, as usual. But I look at the log on my piece of crap terrorist phone and laugh at a long senseless text i sent our Tour Manager at 4am:
"Jack, FYI new band policy; Part I. On all KH print materials from this point forward, 'soundcheck' must be spelled 'SoundCZECH'. Part II: Please start referring to all band members by our new Jersey Shore nicknames; Greg: “The Decision,” Mat “The Complication,” and Dan “The Mortician.” Pls make one up for Maddox. i'm too tired."
I kick open the curtain, withdraw to the lounge and start my day in the sophisticated, regal manner to which I’ve now become accustomed: a full-flavored loose leaf Tibetan tea, a delicate blueberry confectionery, and a wonderful YouTube vid of some girl getting TREATED.
Daily Affirmation vid #2
(I don't know about the "roll," but she definitely gets the "stop" and "drop" parts right.)
15 viewings
later, after smearing away my sweet, insensitive tears of joy, it finally registers: We're actually back in London. Bloody LONDON, Oi! Mecca! Home to 90% of my idols; origin of
the accents and styles we’ve been "borrowing" our entire career.
We’re parked outside the venue, the beautiful Electric Ballroom. Bus is pretty much empty.. Greg is exploring Camden Market… Dan and Garrett are visiting the Gibson Guitars showroom. Maddox is getting his nose pierced. I post up at a cool pub called The Camden Eye and start work on a piece for Rock Sound Magazine that’s 2 weeks overdue.
(Like a masochist, I also decide to check up on some Fbook updates. Tension headache in 3, 2, 1, there it is!)
Back inside, we got a chance to spend time with some members of the KHK street team
We shared some touching stories, saw some impressive tattoos, and even got a cake
The show was MASSIVE and so much fun…
Following the melee in Manchester, I assumed that the London crowd would be subdued by comparison.. but I was immediately proven wrong. WAY wrong…
First time I got within snatching distance of the barrier, I got devoured by trap door spiders in the front row —pulled me in to the pit - drawn and quartered.. got kiss-raped by something with a mustache...-army ants and killer bees - broke my suspenders....stole my bracelets, but I emerged back on stage somehow clutching a brand new pocket watch… Fair trade? i guess. Buddhists would say I never truly owned those things anyway. ;)
Another personal highlight was covering my favorite pop song of all time, ‘Just Like Heaven’.
-Afterwards we took pics and autographed misc body parts behind the club for another hour after the show- dripping my radioactive sweat on to many fans whom i recognize from previous tours... their excitement was so genuine and contagious that i hated leaving.
Our official Post-show-party was held at Bungalow 8… Many close friends drop by, including trouble-maker Taylor the Terrible from Disorder Magazine
Our fav birthday girl, Chloe Little, hosts the night --in a white vinyl dress w a Masonic eye painted on it
Greg spun a sick set of dirty indie electro... then we both mug it at our table, totally entertained by certain guys whose wealth and entitlement we certainly may envy.. but whose dance moves we certainly do not.
We toast to another wonderful London experience, and it's off to Birmingham we go, old chap...Cheerio!
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@julius
dude, dont be a dick