Day One: Fitzgerald’s, Berwyn, IL Oct 18th 2006
Opening Jitters
We left Iowa City Wednesday morning scrambling like field mice. Every sleeping bag, toothbrush, toiletry case, jar of peanut butter, and loaf of bread crammed into the Maloney Pony. We were anxious and sleepy eyed yet focused on our path at hand. When we arrived to Fitzgerald’s for sound check, we were greeted by owner Bill Fitzgerald, as well as soundman Gary, who I will get to later. Bill was kind enough to give me a tour of Fitzgerald’s compound which included the main bar room where the stage was, as well as side building with a bar and banquet room, and the building on the other side which was currently under construction but will be the future home of a restaurant.

The main bar building was built sometime in the late 1800’s where it went from being a sports tavern to a smoky jazz haunt. These histories of the club still lurked as we walked in and loaded our gear. Faded and frayed old pictures of Dixie land bands that have played the place lined the walls. Ole Fitzy seemed real proud of the places heritage and the fact that he’s been at it for over 26 years, no small feat for any business owner. The place was cozy in every sense of the word, spacious high ceilings, mini candle ambiance, and old school bar tapers that probably served the likes of Capone. After loading in, we finally had a chance to meet Gary. I asked him what his last name was and he told me it didn’t
matter. Gary’s actions and looks fit the bill of any sound guy you will likely come across. At first Gary seemed cold and bored. He waved to where we should place our equipment without eye contact. He was hulking and slightly oafish with thin, grayed strains of long hair draped down his face. He had glasses that didn’t quite agree with his nose, which merited his constant nervous readjustments. Its safe to assume the 80’s swallowed Gary whole, he probably permed his hair then complete with a
patched black leather jacket, but Gary now seemed burned out and probably has dealt with every bullshit rock star demand in the book. Despite these face value assessments Gary turned out to be a great sound guy and sweetheart to boot. His dry sense of humor and cold demeanor were a façade to his genuine warmth underneath.

We kicked off the show around 9pm playing a solid hour of our tunes to a warm receptive crowd. The crowd was slightly older than we are used to, but nice all the same. There was a Chicago radio personality from XRT there, who also happened to be from Iowa City. He talked to us about his days playing Gabes, even playing in one incarnation of Picador’s and former Gabe’s talent buyer Doug Roberson’s bands. Even ole Gary had ties to Iowa City and also played in a band with Roberson in the late 80’s. This will no be known as the Iowa City Musician rite of passage. It seems wherever we go we will find former Iowa City residents and we have yet to have found one that did not look fondly on their times there.

Jay went on stage after us and played four solo tunes before he
invited the boys up for the rockers. Jay was admittingly very
apprehensive for this kickoff show by saying, “I’m the most nervous guy in Cook County.” Despite Jays opening jitters, he played well and let his guitar—“Big Red”— do most of the talking for him. The boys came up and played with him after his solo set and ripped through Jay’s set with gusto. It was nice to finally see my band play from an audience perspective. I also had the opportunity to relax and talk to Jeff Macklin our manager/tour manager and David Vandervelde who helped produce Jay’s record as well as his own, which is fantastic. Vandervelde’s record is coming out on Secretly Canadian and it should turn some heads.

Top 5 Best Things Heard in the Van Today in no particular order
1.) Yo La Tengo: I Am Not Afraid of You And I Will Kick Your Ass
2.) William Elliott Whitmore and Jenny Hoyston: Hallways of Always
3.) Justin Timberlake: FutureSex/Love Sounds
4.) The Kinks: Muswell Hillbillies
5.) Sam Cooke: Greatest Hits

Day Two: Cowboy Monkey: Champaign, IL Oct 19th 2006
Cat Piss Champion

We woke up this morning and had breakfast at my grandmother’s house in Wilmette. Grandma had a huge spread for us and we filled our bellies to the maximum occupancy, she even donated some thermal blankets for the van as well as extra road snacks. We headed toward Champaign into a fury of downtown Chicago traffic, after securing a case for Ofer’s new keyboard. I fucking hate Guitar Centers, but they are obviously a necessity for quick and easy equipment purchases. Anyway, Adam was driving and was noticeably agitated, but nothing a sappy Smiths song
couldn’t fix. Adam’s lead foot hossed us all the way to Champaign with quickness. Champaign is another hometown show for Jay and it’s quickly becoming a second home for us. This was our third time in Champaign and second at the Cowboy Monkey.

Before the show I went and visited our friends Taylor and Sarah at their work and had some cheese bread. Champaign reminds a lot of Iowa City, only more music venues and bigger and less convenient to get around. The show began with local band The Tractor Kings. The band’s music fit their name the same way
Drive-By Truckers or Metallica’s names fit their respective genres. The band, however, was talented and had a warm local following. The bass player’s brother was in the crowd getting buckwild on the dance floor, flaying around into a rapture. The dude looked like the watermelon smashing Gallagher complete with newsboy cap and bushy moustache. His name turned out to be A-Rock and I have to say he waved his freak flag in the best way possible.

We started out our set and A-Rock was into it. He pranced around like a tweaked out wildcat and the crowd watched dumbstruck in awe. When we played, “Symmetrical Smiles,” I asked A-Rock
to come up and jam on the tambourine with us and he got up there and lit a fire under our asses, causing us to display one the best performances we have ever delivered. Bennett came out and greeted a lot of old friends and fans from the 17 years of being a Champaign native. He channeled his nerves into confidence and the boys in turn played well behind him. The Cowboy Monkey is one of the few clubs that will most likely cover your bar tab, and because of it I had my fair share of whiskey and beer. It gets real hazy when the spirits are comped. Yet
again we ran into a former Iowa City native named Carrie as well as hung out with Steve from the great Champaign band The Living Blue and met a nice dude from the local band Terminus Victor. The show ended semi-early and we headed over to a great local bar called the Brass Rail for a nightcap.

Everyone seems to be in good spirits and anxious for the dates ahead. We crashed at our gracious friends’ Taylor and Sarah’s house, where they let us drink their Bud Light and use their Internet. The gals have a cute little white cat I got cozy with, however the whole house smelled like one big litter receptacle of cat piss. Because of the foul odor the boys decided to rough it in the van for the night, while I bit the bullet and slept inside. I slept like a cat piss champion.

Top 5 Things Heard in the Van Today
1.) The Smiths: Strangeways
2.) M. Ward: Post-War
3.) New Pornographers: Twin Cinema
4.) Micah P. Hinson: Opera Circuit
5.) Spank Rock: YoYoYoYo

Day Three: The Picador: Iowa City, IA Oct. 20th 2006
The Boys are Back in Town
We headed back to Iowa City where Jay had an interview on our college station KRUI and we went back to our houses to regroup for our show at the Picador, aka the new Gabe’s. Randy had a guitar issue and by the graciousness of Aaron at the Musicians Pro Shop he got it fixed last minute. It is safe to assume we know where to go for our equipment and musical maintenance
needs.

I had high expectations for The Picador show and they were all met and exceeded. The place was jumping with people interspersed with our friends and fans. It was great to see everyone and see local support that went above and beyond the call of duty. Local singer songwriter Jason Lewis played first and played some gorgeous somber acoustic numbers. Lewis is in the Iowa Writer’s Workshop and it was easy to see he could also use his skills to construct a great song. Jay had worked on a record with Jason several years ago so we were thrilled that he was the local support.

We went on after Lewis and it was great to see everyone packed together up front. I was a shade nervous but once the first notes of “Remains to be Seen” began I lost all uneasiness and slipped into my usual comfort bubble, eyes closed, cold Budweiser spitting distance from my feet. When I did open my eyes I
noticed a good portion of the crowd mouthing the words of the songs back at us. As a songwriter it is a big thrill to see a crowd sing along as it obviously shows a connection with an audience and proof that people actual listen to our CD. As always for our in town shows we had Big John Hopkins do sound. He is one of the best sound guys in town and close friend to all of us. The Picador’s new sound system was also top-notch, although it was weird to play the new stage when we are so used to Gabe’s old one. We played for well over an hour and even threw the crowd some new material we have been working on.

Top 5 Things Heard in Van Today
1.) The National: Alligator
2.) The Hold Steady: Boys and Girls in America
3.) Band of Horses: Everything All the Time
4.) Diamond Nights: Popsicle
5.) Ride: Nowhere

Day Four: Off Broadway: St. Louis, Mo. Oct 21st 2006
Cruising with Weezy

This is semi-officially the first day of tour. After the first two days, we came home and it felt like a quick tease before we were really
hundreds of miles away from home. I was running behind and had to make a few quick errands downtown before we met up with everyone to depart for St. Louis. One of the most important steps was having Joe print out Mapquest directions for the tour. The first two days, we used our vague memories and basic logic, only to find that most of us are not all that directionally sharp. I woke up smelling last night’s booze and cigarettes, which is always a good indication of a long wee hour-ed night in Iowa City.

We got on the road and took an alternate route by way of 218 toward Keokuk. It’s a pretty time of year to be traveling through Iowa’s scenic areas. Everyone seemed a little haggard from the
events of last night, but we were excited all the same. When we reached Missouri, we took the scenic route 79 uphill into a gorgeous spread of woodland landscape. The Maloney Pony wasn’t as stoked as we were by the sights. The van’s brakes creaked up the hill and everywhere there was a quick turn in the road. It might also be worth mentioning that it was raining bricks. At one point of the stretch of road, we stopped at a lookout point and could see beautiful foliage along the banks of the Mississippi. There was a thick layer of fog on the horizon that created
an eerie majesty, like looking at the photography of Parke Harrison.

The scenic awe couldn’t help but conjure Huck Finn moments with that whole cliché, I’m just one little piece of matter in something so huge and encompassing. Randall led us through the rain with precision and we arrived in St. Louis right when everyone in town was home watching their fair-weathered Cardinals play the first game of the World Series. The turnout for the show now seemed a tad dire, but we realized both Jay and us went on after the game had ended.

Off Broadway is a great room, perfectly picaresque for a western saloon bar fight. When we arrived, the owner Steve, who graciously welcomed us and gave us a couple pints of a St. Louis brew I can’t recall. The whole staff of Off Broadway was friendly and attentive. We loaded in and did a sound check, which is quickly becoming an exhausting but necessary routine. I have to admit, I was a bit grumpy and tired. The combination of little sleep and dreary rain does not fair well on my psyche. People
started to filter in as a local rapscallion giddy up roots band called the Monads played. An energetic front man that reminded me of former Iowa City comedian Paul Rust led the Monads. After the Monads, a band from Brooklyn called Swig Foot played. They were a well-oiled rock unit and ripped through their set furiously. The band even covered a Dinosaur Jr. song, which is OK in my book.

Around this point of the night, a boisterous local gal named Weezy approached me. She was wearing a rugged black cowboy hat with a western-styled Stroh’s shirt—worn in the cowgirl wrap around style. Weezy had the exterior of miles worn, but the spirit of someone half her age. She was also very quick to cover your basic who, what, where, when and why’s. She seemed right away
like the kind of girl that knew her surroundings well, and made sure she was familiar straight away with something new under her radar. We started talking and she filled me in on her history hanging out with Wilco during the glory years when Jay and Ken Coomer were in the band. Her memory was vivid for things that would easily fall in the category of hazy scandalous situations.

We played what I would consider a lackluster set, partly due to my case of the Mondays. Our tempo was a bit slow and the crowd—though polite and receptive—was a bit too relaxed. We were not bringing the rockers and thus not bringing the energy. It was a fucking Saturday night but it didn’t feel that way. Immediately after we got off stage a shaggy haired guy greeted us with press laments prominently displayed around his neck. The guy seemed vaguely familiar and within seconds I realized it was none other than St. Louis’s finest “Beatle Bob.” Beatle Bob is a legend in St. Louis and serves as both a radio disc jockey and MC show performer. As soon as I could get my chords and pedal into my case, he called me by my first and last name and also knew everyone else in the band’s name. I had to admit I felt partly weird and flattered. BB turned out to be a total sweetheart and invited us to come do his radio show next time we came to St. Louis, which I hope is soon.

Jay got up there and I can plainly see that he is getting less and less nervous every night. His usual four song opening set sounded particularly tight tonight. One of my favorite songs of his that I wasn’t previously familiar with is “Junior,” a barn burner that Bennett considers “the stupidest song he ever wrote.” The boys came up and naturally played with confidence behind Bennett. One of the many perks of not having to play twice every
night is to see my band play from the audience perspective. The
spectator experience fully reassures me that our sound is coming out right. While passing through the bar, I ran into the female upright bass player from the Monads and due to the noisy distortion of Bennett’s “Big Red,” I thought she asked me, “Hey I liked your set, I would like to talk to you a bit later about your spiritual side.” I had to say I was bit intrigued and freaked out all the same. But after talking to her later, I realized she just said, “I liked your set. We should chat later.”

After the club closed up, we realized that we had no place to stay. Fearing the worst, we decided that it was going to be a hotel
night. We got in the van and before you could bat a lash we ran into Weezy again. She asked if she could save some money by hitching a ride to the hotel with us so she could take a cab home from there. We agreed and thus began our cruise with Weezy.

Jefferson and Jay were staying at the Motel 6 outside of town and when we pulled up there to get a room, we realized that the hotel was full. Fucking World Series. We drove to several other hotels around the three-block radius and got the same story. Even when Adam jokingly hassled the lobby night lackeys by saying we were on Reprise Records and were here for our rooms, we were still screwed. Meanwhile in the van, we were all packed in and rocking
out, smoking cigarettes and chatting with Ole Weezy. Our last hope was at the Oak Grove Inn. Once we go to Oak Grove we realized that they only had suites available and we got one compliments of Miss Weezy. She put the room on her credit card and said that it was her treat. We were all equally shocked and grateful. Budget is always a band concern and Weezy’s generosity was appreciated across the board. Although I must
add I was a bit nervous that Weezy was buying this room for us for the wrong reasons. There was no way that anything was going to go down. To aid our worries we went upstairs and crashed almost immediately after getting upstairs.

Top 5 things heard the van today
1.) Rolling Stones: Exile on Mainstreet (scenic drive)
2.) Ricky Gervais Pod Cast
3.) Richard Pryor standup
4.) Ratatat: Classics
5.) Rosewood Thieves: From the Decker House

Day Five: 3rd and Lindsley: Nashville, TN Oct 22nd 2006
Nashville Sinners

We had a long drive today but I decided to take advantage of the
hotel’s complimentary breakfast. I loaded up on bagels, coffee, cereal, and brought up a waffle to the room, which I gave to Adam. We wiped away our eye turds and got on the highway headed south toward Nashville, after giving Weezy 20 bucks for cab fare and thank yous for fronting the room. Ofer took the reigns today and we drove through beautiful landscapes of trees barely holding onto its fall coloration. We needed to get to the club early today because it was going to be broadcast live on Lightning 100, Nashville’s independent radio station, and we needed to make sure all the levels were checked. We beat Macklin
and Bennett to the club and arrived at about the same time the soundman came. He graciously opened the bar up for us and we loaded in. It being Sunday, we all huddled round the television to watch some football and stretch our legs. The van has been holding up remarkably well considering it was a personal 700-dollar investment last year. After awhile, Ashley, 3rd and Lindsley’s talent buyer showed up. We met Ashley in Indianapolis during the Midwest Music Summit at one of those festival meet and greets. She very quickly and easily displayed her southern hospitality and gave us all hugs and hellos. Upon our respects
she pointed out an employee reference sheet to aid callers asking what kind of music is playing tonight. The sheet consisted of inside joke options about the band’s sound that I personally found hilarious. I told her to tell anyone who asks what we sound like to go with Industrial, Blazers and Scarves, Party Band.

We set up for sound check, which was our most in-depth yet. We spent a couple hours watching as the soundman tweaked knobs to the point that it sounded good. I noticed the vocals in the room were extra crisp, which is a good thing. I need to be able to hear my voice or I will sing even more out of key. Around 7pm the
kitchen help and bartenders arrived and we got some complimentary food. After one person got the burger, I realized my choice was made immediately. The burger was one of the best I’ve had in awhile complete with fresh cut French fries. I called my girlfriend Samantha back home and received word that her bunny Porterhouse had passed away. I tried my best to console her and respectfully mourned the death of the cutest
little playful rabbit you’d ever meet. I silently dedicated tonight’s
set to him.

It is no secret that Nashville is a big music town. Upon our arrival I could feel the rich history seep into my presence. The town garners an old soul, albeit struggling to maintain its rich culture amongst dire American commercialization. While waiting for the
show to begin I bummed around and noticed all these goofy paintings on the walls. Apparently the club was getting ready for a Halloween bash and they were in preparation for that event. At one point I noticed a big fella sitting down by the stage. The man turned out to be Jim Greirer, a local songwriter/singer who used to be in a folkish pop band called The New Dylans. For some strange reason I decided to plop down next to him, and I was glad I did. Jim was friendly like everyone thus far in Nashville from the beginning. Most interesting to me was listening to him tell me about his trials and tribulations in the music industry. He gave me some priceless advice and thoughts on many facets of
the music business, including production, gear, publishing, management, and maintenance. I am beginning to realize that we can be viewed as wide-eyed but in reality we are hungry and driven. We attack every night like we are playing for the Pope and Jim’s thoughts encouraged our mindset.

To make the show more special, it was billed that a special guest would be performing with Jay tonight. When the said special guest walked in, we realized it was none other than “un-official mayor” of Nashville, Ken Coomer. Ken like Jay also played in Wilco’s earlier glory years, but in the last few years has been known as a well-respected session musician and producer. Decked out in
a neat black western shirt and faded jeans, Coomer quickly extended his hand and complimented our record. It’s hard to keep cool in the presence of musical idols and celebrities, but Ken’s aura relaxed me into believing he was my long lost hip uncle, who probably smoked me out for the first time while listening to Springsteen’s Nebraska.

The show started relatively early and to say it was sparsely attended would be an understatement. Despite write-ups in several Nashville weeklies and radio promotion, Nashville wasn’t coming out that night. This was the first show that I could say I was visibly and emotionally nervous. The unfathomable thought of the show being broadcast all over Nashville and beyond didn’t set well with me at first. After a shaky introduction, we ended up playing a solid set and light years above last night in St. Louis. My voice sounded particularly clearer than any night on the tour
thus far. The clarity enforced my confidence. The small crowd that was there was attentive and receptive and made sure to whoop it up after every song to elude the listening radio audience. The whole set boosted everyone’s spirits and we seemed equally appreciative of the possibility that several thousand people were listening to our performance from the comfort of their own homes.

After our set, I typically go help Jeff man the merch stable where we are hopefully moving our swag to our potential new friends, aka shipmates. This particular merch duty brought out the introduction of a guy named Jason, who had a similar body build and beard that almost uncanningly resembled me. Jason turned out to work in the music industry and was on tour with party hip hopper Ludacris, serving as his tour bus manager aka (meet and greet party planner). Jason graciously bought two of our CDs and I listened to him talk enthusiastically about his music business history. Jay around this time was getting ready to go on and I
was super excited to see him play with Coomer back on drums. In my eyes, it would be like seeing Morrissey get back together with Marr, however unlike the fellow Smiths, Coomer and Bennett have always been great friends, pre and post Wilco. By the time in the set when Jay introduced Ken, the crowd erupted in applause. Ken slinked into Adam’s kit and gave the crowd two solid numbers. It was great to see him work his way around the kit with precision. The boys came up as always and delivered an especially inspired performance.

At one point Ashley took me to her car to listen to it live on the radio. The show sounded incredible, but probably due to radio compression. After the show we hung out with Jason and we all decided to hit up Broadway Street to check out the Nashville honky tonks. We headed to a place called Second Fiddle first, just as a Nashville pop country band was getting ready to perform. In the crowd, there were table loads of Asian businessmen drinking beers and grooving to the country sheen. Jason bought a round
of Jager shots and Budweiser’s as the band was kicking off a Dave
Matthews cover. Our party crew for the night consisted of Ashley, two 3rd and Lindsley employees, Jason, Jay, Jefferson, and Ken Coomer.

After the first round, we were tired of the Second Fiddle and headed next door to Lola’s Hillbilly Bluegrass Lounge just as three of the hottest female country performers I have ever seen were in mid guitar/fiddle/mandolin down stroke. The vibe in this place was light years more our style than the commercial atmosphere of Second Fiddle. We found out later that the band consisted of three sisters and her brother who resembled a hillbilly Kurt Cobain. The band plays Lola’s six days a week for four hours everyday for tips. The blonde sister bobbed up and through the buckwild crowd with pouty lips and a bucket full of cash. Her hair was blonde and she had it cut short, Godard actress style. Jason ordered us up another round of the usual and we were quickly getting hammered. It was here that I got a chance to talk with Ken Coomer, who without a doubt is the biggest sweetheart
you’ll ever meet. The “un-official” mayor of Nashville treated me like I was on his board of trustees. Back in St. Louis, Weezy had secured a nug of green for Coomer, but somehow on the road to Nashville, we uhh lost it. We mentioned Weezy and Coomer quickly knew whom we were talking about and seemed enthused that she was doing well. After an hour of solid drinking and Jason continuing to come through big on the drinks we decided to head to East Nashville, which is conviently closer to Ashley’s house where we were staying that night.

The bar we ended up at was called the Red Door. We walked in like we owned the place and eventually we did. The late night Sunday drinkers didn’t expect some seriously wired Iowans blasting in and stumbling all over the place. It may also be worth mentioning that our transportation was secured by our go-to sober driver and band mate Joe. His late night driving is saint worthy, because he always agrees to drive us to our destination safe and securely. The Red Door is a typical corner neighborhood bar that was tended by a really pissed off burly biker looking dude. Grumpy Gus probably thought the typical slow Sunday was
going to slowly and quietly come to an end, but boy was he mistaken. One of the claims to fame of the bar is two peepholes in the floorboards of the bar, where below is a light with skeleton bones underneath. I had been reassured that I would love the peepholes and when I finally got my own peepers on it, I wasn’t that impressed. After being introduced to some local girls who loved our drunken stupidity, we met Nashville producer Greg Perkins. Apparently Greg is a Nashville go-to guy for country singers like Gretchen Wilson and probably countless others I have never heard of, because I hate “new” country. Anyway Perkins was rock solid and graciously accepted our CD to listen to, which is probably an industry standard bar coaster. At this point
Jason, who was still with us kept serving up the Jager and I had hit a drunken peak. We lost steam fast so we headed back to Ashley’s by Joe’s dead sober navigations.

Ashley’s house was a beautifully modest house in a pretty wooded area of East Nashville. At this point my memories are hazier, but I remember being able to sleep soundly and securely in my trusty red sleeping bag.

Top 5 Things Heard in the Van Today
1.) Dio: Holy Diver
2.) Fugazi: In on the Kill Taker
3.) King Curtis: Live at the Fillmore West
4.) Ricky Gervais Podcast
5.) Califone: Roots and Crowns

Day 6 Uncle Pleasants: Louisville, KY Oct 23rd 2006
Home is where your friends live

I woke up surprisingly not hung over. As I navigated my way around Ashley’s house, I realized she already had a fresh pot of coffee going, water, snacks, and cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. Ashley had to go to work but her hospitality was above and beyond the call of duty. The generosity thus far on tour has made me resort back when I was a chubby, giddy baby with a bag of animal crackers, which ironically isn’t too much of a stretch to how I am now at 25. My Nashville morning consisted of Ofer and I sitting on Ashley’s front porch drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and eating those delicious cinnamon rolls. Ashley’s dog Jake was also hanging out. He was a lab mix and severely obese like my cocker spaniel dog Sammy, aka the sausage spaniel. Since Louisville was only two hours away we decided to visit the Broadway area again to check out the music, record, and gift shops on the strip that were closed last night. Broadway Street had all the historical honky tonks in tact and around the corner was the famous Ryman Auditorium, past home of the Grand Ole Opry and the official church of Country Music. We didn’t get to walk into the place, but I can guarantee it’s like walking into a time warp, to the days when Cash flipped us the bird and smashed out the stage lights. I was kind of sad to see that a huge obnoxious convention center and amphitheater were right across the street from Tootsies and the Ryman Auditorium. I am quickly getting bummed out on stupid American populist realities. I picked up a couple cheap cheesy postcards and other crap with the obligatory “Nashville,” or “Nashville Country,” ect.

We walked into the music shop and saw just about every vintage classic Fender, Gretch, and Gibson guitar to make you water your eyes. Next time I have a spare $30,000 lying around, I just might look that shop up again. Somehow I lost track of the boys and stumbled into a famous Nashville print shop. The place was a beautiful storefront with a shop in the front and the actual press in the back. The press and back area looked old school and was because at one time the place was printing current posters for Patsy Cline, Johnny Cash, Louvin Brothers, and other country greats. They had tons of posters I had my eyes on, however the
15-30 dollars range didn’t fit my budget today. I did take advantage of the 50-cent screen-printed post cards and my stomach thanked me later for my monetary conservation.

After meeting back up with the boys and a quick spin through Ernest Tubb’s record store we were on the road to Louisville for our show at Uncle Pleasants. The drive to Louisville was beautiful and full of more mountains. I had a hard time focusing because I am writing most of these entries while we drive from city to
city. We were supposed to play an in-store today with Jay at Earxtacy Records, but we spent too much time bumming around Nashville. I was glad we stayed in Nashville, but I was also equally bummed I missed out on Earxtacy giving out complimentary CDs of choice for performers.

Uncle Pleasants is located on the outskirts of town. There was a
hipster café next to the club and we decided to drink some coffee and use its wi-fi connection. Last night being the barnburner it was, we all were happy to relax for a while before loading in. When we did load in we met with the soundman and booker, who quickly got us settled. Uncle Pleasants is a huge townie bar that probably hosts some killer stoner rock bands. We met a long haired metal head, who was proudly telling me about his signed Black Sabbath and Slayer poster collection. The place could easily be summed up by the sign near the soundboard for earplugs
reading, “Too Loud? Earplugs $1,” and written prominently next to it a surly patron wrote, “Fuck Off.” The staff was super stoked on the show as they showed us one of the most comfortable green rooms we’ve seen, basically consisting of a furnished apartment above the club. Jeff, Ofer, Joe and I went into town to eat at a local BBQ place called Mark’s Feedbag. It was nice to have dinner with those guys and got to learn more about Joe’s family and life in general.

Like last night, a pirate radio station was broadcasting the show live on the Internet for anyone to hear. I was particularly excited to see my friend Jarrett Mitchell. I met Jarrett through my mutual friends Will Whitmore and Luke Tweedy and tonight he not only agreed to put us up for the night, but also gave us an introduction and an improv, “Let’s Be Active,” comedy routine.

At around show time the club was probably filled with 15 people, but yet again it was also a Monday night. Jarrett got up and tried to jilt the crowd the best he could. Since moving to Louisville from San Francisco, he has taken up a fascination with horse race
betting. We got on and for some reason we all locked in and delivered a better than average set. We were a bit tired, so our energy level wasn’t the highest, but we played the songs well even mixing up our set list, which worked great. After having a couple beers in the green room upstairs, Jeff told me he would like me to meet Jason Isbell from the great alt country band the Drive-By Truckers. Apparently Jason played Louisville a couple days before and was there on a day off from tour. Randall is a huge Truckers fan and had met Isbell before with our mutual friend Sean Haskins. Isbell was a super rad guy with a thick
Alabama accent complete with southern charm. I sat down next to him with three of his friends who had met him for the tour as well as his merch guy. He bought me a shot of Jager and we all drank some beers. He complimented us on the show and we very easily started talking about music, guitar tones, life on the road ect. Isbell’s friends were a great couple from New York City, who also joined in on the conversation, whooping it up as Bennett hit the stage. After chatting awhile with the couple, they told me that they also worked in the music industry as the female was named Charley and was a Rolling Stone online writer and her
beau was a light tech for bands like The Shins and Interpol. We got drunk and yelled and sang along as Bennett played on stage. After the show Jarrett led us back to his house just a mile or so from the club. He lives there with his best gal Lettie, who is equally awesome, but already asleep for an early work rise. Jarrett’s house was decorated a lot like my friend Luke’s corridors, tasteful mix of old school and modern artwork with a country down home motif. It felt as if you were staying in a redneck cabin, only you were listening to Fugazi and discussing the many artistic layers of dadism. Jarrett played us his documentary about deer, specifically with people who have been in automobile accidents with them. We drank a couple beers and fell asleep like we were back home in Iowa. It felt good.

Top 5 Things Heard in the Van Today in no particular order
1.) David Vandervelde Moon Station House Band “Advance”
2.) Steely Dan: Aja
3.) The Cure: Greatest Hits
4.) Captain Beefheart: Safe as Milk
5.) Andrew Bird: Mysterious Production of Eggs