Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Well, just got finished writing a long blog about our days in Italy and it got erased, I do not have the energy to write the whole thing again, so let me just say that we are having a great time with friends that I have missed dearly for three years.


Monday, February 14, 2005

So we said goodbye to the Dangerfields yesterday, we will be finishing our tour in Europe and they will be beginning their tour in the USA. The Dangerfields will be on tour for THREE MONTHS!! I don’t think I have the guttural fortitude to last that long on the road in a van with 6 or 7 other unbathed men. I would probably end up trying to walk home from some valley in Montana, taking my chances, walking the 2,000 miles home, smiling the whole way.
We had a great show in Derby tonight. I had never even heard of Derby before tonight. Older punks crawled from the woodworks and co-mingled with the 12 to 15 year olds who came out to support their friends in the opening acts. They cleared the room after their friends had cleared the stage, but the punks of yore holding pints of beer stepped forward and filled the room to see us. I felt honored. I jumped around like a maniac and sung the praises of the punks who started out their youth as punks and continue to be punks in the later days. And I’m not just talking about music, I am talking about a passion for music and energy and bridging gaps between countries, ages, and sensibilities. I’m sounding strange, but alas this is how my brain works.
I must talk of the Claires we met and the Kinky Rays who gave us houses to stay in and Bed and Breakfasts to drink too much alcohol in. I must talk of the town of Saxmundham (sex mayhem) that appeared from the fog as we traveled hours into the midst of England. It is rumored that our booking agent, couldn’t find us a show for this date so he just created a town out of cardboard and beer and sent his father into a mysterious land to host a show for Even In Blackouts. We stayed up all night and played Pool with yellow and red balls. We watched the Dangerfields get trashed. We discovered that both EIB and The Dangerfields had first class Deviants playing bass. While the rest of the bands were sleeping Phillip Hill and Diamond Dave crawled out the window and began a drunken tour of this small innocent town. It is rumored that they found their way into a bus and tried to go for a joy ride. It is rumored that they “found” a 75 pound cement Owl covered in green slime and carried it back to the Bed And Breakfast and laid it next to the childlike sleeping body of Gub. It is rumored that this aforementioned Owl is now hiding on the roof four stories up. This is all rumors, and so is the picture of Phillip hugging the Owl that I supposedly viewed on Dave’s phone at which point I supposedly laughed very hard.
We stopped for Juggs in The Spread Eagle in Camden. Actually we didn’t, but Gub and I thought it a funny phrase. There is a place called the Spread Eagle and they do serve drinks in a jug. We joked about the sexual innuendo, and then I fell back into my head and began to contemplate puns and metaphors, and how a spread eagle wouldn’t be a sexual innuendo if it wasn’t first an actual spread eagle. And this spread eagle resembled a lewd position. I can’t completely explain what I am saying but it has something to do with my own ignorance and the explaining away of the idea of puns... More later.
tomorrow night we head out of the UK and into France for a night off and then on to Spain, where supposedly no one every sleeps. We will also be featured on a national television show in Spain. How odd is that?

Friday, February 11, 2005

Hello, every single one of you people purposely or accidentally stopping by this blog and taking a few moments to read. EIB is in Europe right now, I sit on the couch or our booking agent in Nottingham, the home of the infamous Sheriff of the Robin Hood fame. I have not spotted him yet, and am beginning to think this story is old. I think perhaps the Sheriff in this story is dead. The police here hardly appear evil enough to be the "sheriff of Nottingham."
We have been traveling around Ireland, Scotland and England with a wild pack of belfast boys known as The Dangerfields. We played a show in a city called Norwich, the promoter let us stay over night in the pub, which was kind, but every so slightly weird. When he left he locked the doors behind him so that we couldn't get out until he came back the next morning. In the one room we packed ourselves in, there was a sign that had fallen off the wall. The sign told the story of a woman who had died, right in the very spot where the drums were set. Supposedly she now roams the pub sobbing, waiting for her husband who is lost at sea. They call her "The Lady In Grey". We did not witness her traverse across the pub. The idea of being stuck over night with a bunch of crazed Belfast boys in a haunted river front pub, is much more threatening in theory than it was in practice. The night was actually quite pleasant if not just a little uncomfortable sleeping on hard wood benches that resembled church pews.
We had a sell out show in Scotland which was pretty amazing. Insanity with no stage separating us from the overzealous audience. There were a few annoying blokes who were trying to sing into our microphones even though they didn't know the words. One of them was an older bald punk with bolging muscles and two beers clamped in his fists. It takes some forethought to deal with this type of audience member. They enjoy the music but they are so rambunctious that they actually hurt the show for others. He knocked the mic into Liz's face, and that was enough. I kicked him in the chest, in the most kind way you can commit such a deed. He seemed to take it fairly well. I warned the audience that if they got near Liz for the last three songs we would stop playing. It was a daring move to make because I didn't know if they liked us well enough to take the threat to heart. But the DID like us, and they jumped around, went completely insane and avoided the stage as if there was bullet proof glass surrounding the front of the playing area. At every show we talked to many many excitable entertaining locals with thick accents that made comprehension very difficult, but we understood enough to know that they were good people who liked to drink a lot.
I quite enjoyed Scotland. We have probably played in front of more people in Scotland than any other place on any tour so far. I find that very interesting. I underestimated Scotland, and I apologize for my premature undisclosed judgment.

Well that's if for now. Take care folks.