Turning the van and trailer around on the narrow street with cars parked on both sides was not an easy proposition. Luckily, with an assist from a really nice security guard for the hotel and Lotje, our superstar TM, and a creative interpretation of the traffic laws, I got us parked in a nice spot right in front of the hotel, pointed out of the one-way.
By the time we all piled out of the van and made it up to our rooms it was close to 2am. Lotje and I, still pretty excited about the Troubadour gig, hung out in our room for a bit and had a drink. It was nice to unwind a little bit after a hectic but stressful day.
Our alarm went off at 6:30 this morning and we were all out of our rooms and on the road by 7:15am. Go us. Blech. Not much to say about the drive from LA to SF, except that it was pretty long and boring. I didn’t get any pictures of the trip because my camera rode in my gig bag from last night. There are some really spectacular wind farms as you get close to SF. The view from the Bay Bridge was lovely, it was a bright, warm, clear day, so we could see Alcatraz, the Golden Gate Bridge and a bunch of other stuff I didn’t recognize.
We arrived in town about an hour before load-in and checked into the hotel. San Francisco was the show I’d been anticipating the most because Rachel, my special lady, lives in Berkeley. It’d been almost 6 weeks since she visited me in Portland and I was starting to go through some serious Rachel withdrawal. She met us at the hotel before load-in and accompanied us for the rest of the day until she and I were able to steal away and have some romance time. It’s always weird to include an outsider in a well-oiled machine like ours (warning: irony), but my lady is an expert at being quietly supportive on gigs and staying out of the way.
Load-in went quickly and we got pretty much set while Tilly and the Wall soundchecked. The house sound guys were incredibly nice. Waldo and Freeway were really accommodating about our extra inputs and vocals and even moved Tilly and the Wall’s backdrop to allow facilitate the projection portion of the show. Tilly and the Wall’s show involves a lot of tapdance, including a multi-mic’d tap platform placed where a drum riser would normally go.
While I think the tap platform is a really cool idea, their inability to remove it from the stage, or even to move it to one side, made our setup a little complicated. Ross set his drumkit stage right and everyone shifted around. Tally Hall definitely is an exception to the bands who seem to need to have everything the consistent night in and night out in order to have a good show; they adapted beautifully to the changed lineup and played an awesome show. Although they went without playing the acoustic portion, normally my favorite time since it presents the band without the security blanket/intermediary of a sound system or real lighting, I enjoyed the show and was mostly satisfied with the job I did. The new vocal mics are awesome. They cut through the mix as well as advertised and have a slightly reduced proximity effect, so that, unlike an SM58, for example, changing your distance from the microphone doesn’t result in sweeping low-end shift.
Our soundcheck went well enough and fairly quickly, and Bora got our deads stashed in the back room so by the time doors were open we were all ready to go. I charted my channels—or at least I thought I did (more on that later)—and we got our wristbands and bailed. Rachel and I went on a nice walk through the neighborhood surrounding Rickshaw Stop and had a little snack before the show. It feels odd to have to catch up with someone with whom I’ve been so close. Seems like we should just each know what the other is up to. Catching up was good, though, and I’m thankful for every moment we had together over the last two days.
When we got back to the venue, I ran into the guys from Capgun Coup, whom we’d shard a date with in Phoenix. Turns out my old friend Becca is their contact with their label, Team Love. They say she said to say hi. So I say a virtual “hi” back. What’s more, they said she’d be in Austin with them for SXSW in a few days. It’ll be nice to see her again, since it’s been almost 3 years, I think.
The show sounded great out front, I’m starting to get into a rhythm with the show and I’ve have quite a solid feel for how I want the band to sound. The stage sound was apparently a little problematic, since it sounds like I may have mis-charted a couple of important channels Ross needed. Luckily, we got things pretty much worked out by the third song, thanks to some ace running by Bora.
After the show, Waldo, who owns the Rickshaw, helped us get our load-out on through a back-alley door. Everyone pitched in and the van was loaded about 15 minutes after the band got offstage. Most of us piled in and went off in search of parking. Unfortunately, we were turned away several times before we ended up throwing in the towel and driving back to the hotel only to walk back to the venue. Thankfully, there was plenty of parking and a quick hand flapping maneuver by Zubin saved the last double-spot in the hotel lot.
Rachel gets the patience award for waiting out our 45 minute long journey from the alley behind the club back inside. Yeah, my baby’s saintly. After we finished up a couple of last bits of business at the club, Rachel and I headed for dinner. We went to a pizza place called Patxi’s, where Rachel and I had an excellent meal. The pizza was thick-crust Chicago style worthy of Florian in Hyde Park. We both drank Lagunitas Pale Ale. Lagunitas beer is one of a few truly consistent microbrews. I think every one of their beers I’ve had has been excellent. We started with a greek salad, which must have had eight dollars worth of red bell peppers in it. For our pizza, we chose a “special,” which comes topped sausage, mushrooms, peppers and onions. It took a while for our pizza to come, but it was nice to spend a little while gazing into each other’s eyes longingly. The staff was quite nice, smiling and joking both among themselves and with us. It’s nice to have moments of feeling at home even when you’re on the road. Being with my special lady and being treated like old friends by our servers really made my evening. Unfortunately, since I’d slept about 3 hours the night before, by 10 I was pretty much exhausted and started falling asleep at the table. Rachel took the lead and whisked us out and that’s where the story part ends until this morning.
We woke up this morning at around 8 and went to coffee around the corner from our hotel. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten the name of the place, but it was quite nice. The coffee was passable, and worlds better than the Folger’s we’ve seen elsewhere. The croissant and muffin I had were delicious. It’s hard to put into words how nice it was to spend time with my special lady. Breakfast reminded me of a lot of happy Portland mornings last spring. At around 9:45, we headed back to the hotel to check out and say goodbye. That part sucked. And continues to suck. I miss my special lady a whole lot.
I’m listening to Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit as I type this on the way to Portland. I did sound for these guys a few weeks before I left home and I really like the music. Jason Isbell was, until just recently, a member of Drive By Truckers. He’s a ripping guitar player and a talented songwriter. Thanks be to Travis for the cd.
Not too many pics today, unfortunately. I need to get better at documenting stuff, but it all seems to pass so quickly that I end up being involved in the action rather than photographing it. Here’s a photo of Rachel’s and my ghetto hotel room, complete with biohazard needle container. Yeah. It was that kind of hotel.
Don't mess with the needle and the spoon, take your trips to the moon, they'll take you away.-Ronnie Van Zant
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