To begin with, let me apologize for the photo-less nature of the blog. My trusty digital camera, which lasted thru 5 years of rough life, from France to drunken college parties, to ride-alongs with 1-800-GOT JUNK, long summer rock festivals and my first two tours, is no longer functional. It was on its last legs last tour and officially died while I was at home. Although I’m almost broke, I’d love some recommendations on compact, affordable, reliable digital cameras. I’ve enabled anonymous comments, ‘cause people were having trouble commenting, so comment away.
The first two shows are out of the way now. On Saturday, we played in Memphis, TN. My dad recommended a couple of barbecue joints and, in the true spirit of my touring experience, I missed out. For those meat-eaters among you headed for Memphis in the near future, I’ll pass along his recommendations:
"Corky,s and The Rendezvous are the two good places to get ribs. The Rendezvous is located downtown in a basement. It has checkered tablecloths and good beer and is reasonably priced. Corky's has 2 kinds of ribs, dry and wet. It is higher priced. Enjoy!"
The morning after our long drive from Michigan to the southwestern corner of Tennessee, I woke up early, determined to get my prescription filled. I’ll never cease to be amazed by people’s underestimation of what’s “walkable.” When I asked the front desk clerk at our hotel for the location of a pharmacy, he explained that there was a Walgreens a mile or two down the road. As I headed off, backpack on my back, he asked whether I was planning on walking and informed me “there’s no way you can walk there,” adding “why don’t I call you a cab?” I insisted I’d be alright, knowing that I had plenty of time before Mike and the band were up. I ended up having a pleasant enough walk to the Walgreens. I think the trip there ended up taking about 30 minutes.
There’s something inherently dirty about the East Coast. I wonder what makes people feel that it’s acceptable to throw their trash out the window onto the roadside? This is a trend I’ve noticed now that I’ve been away from the East for a while. I’m not trying to hold Oregon up as any kind of magical place where people don’t litter, but there certainly isn’t that much trash on the roadsides I’ve seen back home.
One of my favorite walking activities is talking on the phone with my parents. I don’t get much time alone these days, so calling my folks on a walk is the easiest way to ensure that we get uninterrupted time for talking.
I returned from my trip to Walgreens to find that Rob, Ross and Mike were all awake and raring to go. We’ve needed to replace our guitar stand tub since I started working with Tally Hall, but over the course of the last tour it definitely started falling apart. With this goal in mind, the four of us headed for the Home Depot I’d spotted on my reconnaissance march to Walgreens. Unable to find an upgrade, we got a direct replacement and, ceremoniously depositing the old tub in the dumpster behind the Home Depot, we drove off into the hazy Memphis mid-morning.
We headed back to the hotel, where we waited for the rest of the band to get up and about. Around noon, we headed for downtown with the twin destinations of Graceland and Sun Studios in mind. We wandered around a little and stopped at the only restaurant in downtown Memphis that seemed open, a café called “Sauce.” My burger was ok, nothing special, but definitely better than the fast food options. Ross and Andrew opted for some sort of “flatbread,” which, while advertised as a sandwich, turned out to be more of a plate of haphazardly prepared finger food. I know I’m spoiled by the delicious food in Portland, but for a place called “Sauce” to be serving Hunt’s fancy ketchup seemed kind of like a copout. Nevertheless, lunch was fun and we were served promptly enough and the waitrons were kind enough to split the check (always a pain).
After lunch, Mike and the band decided that they wanted to see Graceland. I’ll be the first to admit, I just don’t get the Elvis thing. I just don’t think the guy’s that interesting musically or culturally. I can understand why people might be interested, but it’s just not my thing. Instead of Graceland, I went music geeking. I drove around the Beale Street area, but it was really touristy. It felt like the lamer parts of Austin combined with Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco; lots of cookie-cutter tourist traps and souvenir shops. Outside of the Beale Street Area, downtown Memphis had a lot in common with a ghost town: burned out boarded up hulks of awesome early/mid 20th century architecture, waist-high crabgrass and cracked pavement. As Rob pointed out, “When the largest building in the area is boarded up and abandoned, there’s some kind of problem.” The areas surrounding downtown were hardly different. The boarded up buildings were just smaller, and there were people. Poverty is really a terrible thing, that’s all I want to say about that.
The Sun “Museum” seemed really small, the staff was cranky and I was in no mood to wait 45 minutes for a tour, so I gave up and headed off in the direction of my main interest in Memphis (besides putting on a rock show), the Stax Records Studio. I almost got the Shaft, showing up just in time to Knock on Wood and get the old “Come on In” from the kindly staff. Time Was Tight, so I felt a little hurried getting through this soul pilgrimage, but I had a good time checking out the movie about the history of Stax and the exhibits. Next time we’re in Memphis, Let’s Stay Together and I’ll Take You There.
Apologies for the poorly executed Stax jokes above, I just had to get those out. The Stax Museum is located on McLemore Avenue in the original location of the Stax Studio. It houses a healthy collection of Stax memorabilia along with some poorly planned exhibits and musical displays. The organizers seem to have designed each exhibit in a vacuum and just thrown the whole thing together. Maybe having all of the exhibits’ music blend together into a cacophony was part of a plan to point out exactly how much music was going on at Stax back in the day, but it made for a pretty annoying experience. Apart from the informative exhibits about the people who founded Stax, there were the all important bits of memorabilia: instruments (authentic and otherwise), stage clothes, photos, concert posters and, the crown jewel, Isaac Hayes’ Superfly-style Cadillac. What an amazing monument to movin’ on up. 4” white shag carpeting, purple upholstery, shiny purple paint, peace signs around the headlights, and a TV—unheard of at that time. Blingtastical blingtron!
The highlight of the Stax tour for me was getting to check out the original Stax Studio and control room. It’s amazing to me that these great records were recorded in such primitive conditions. I guess it shows how little equipment matters in the scheme of things. These musicians played well together and the singers sung their hearts out. I’d like to work in a studio like that sometime.
After a nice day of site-seeing in Memphis, we converged on Newby’s, the venue for our first rock show of the new tour. Tally Hall is opening the first few dates of this tour, and then switching with De Novo Dahl, our touring partners, after Dallas. Newby’s is an alright joint; with a dive bar-type room centered between a game room on one side and a big for shows on the other. For those of you from Portland, the venue side is roughly the size of Conan’s/the Hawthorne Theatre, where I mixed my very first club show. Jason, the house guy at Newby’s, was quite accommodating and, since De Novo Dahl were running late, he let us set up and soundcheck, a rarity for an opener like us. The PA at Newby’s was a lot like the ones I used with Aloha Sound, a big JBL trapezoid rig with lots of loud and boom but not much definition or subtlety.
Between loadin and soundcheck, the weather got really gross, and a glance at the TVs in the bar showed us that it was not likely to get any better: there were tornado warnings all around us, and two counties over they were reporting quarter and dime sized hail. Rain was coming down in sheets. It was raining so hard, I was soaked from running across the sidewalk from the venue to our van.
After marveling at the weather for a while, I got dinner from the venue. I generally try to ask the local crew what to eat, since they know what’s most likely to give you food poisoning and what’s actually good. Tonight, both Jason the sound guy and John the bartender recommended the marinated chicken. I opted for the marinated chicken salad, which ended up being quite tasty. On my recommendation, most of the bandmembers ordered the same thing. Unfortunately, during their meal, Zubin saw a cockroach skitter across the bar. Across the bar! So, a note to those going to Memphis: don’t eat at Newby’s.
(I’m writing this from the road between Dallas and Tucson, and we just passed a truck with what looked like two gigantic cheese wheels on a flatbed. I’m talking ginormous cheese wheels, like 15’ across and 20’ high. Amazing.)
Perhaps in spite of the rain, the show only received lackluster attendance. It’s hard mixing in empty rooms, let me tell you. I had a tough time getting the vocals to cut and be clear enough. On the plus side, though, Ross had taken his drums into the studio to cut some Disney tracks and the engineer had helped him retune his kick drum, which sounded fabulous. Nice and thumpy, with a healthy slap from the beater. Yay, kick drum.
Our adventures that evening did not end at the club, however. On the way back to our hotel from Newby’s, our van was struck by a truck wheel while I was driving. I saw the wheel jump over the median and then felt a nice thump with an unhealthy metal “spang.” Fortunately, it didn’t hit anything of vital importance, and didn’t injure anyone in the vehicle. We pulled over and inspected the damage, which is pretty ghastly looking, but fortunately not structural. TM Mike has pictures of the damage, which I’ll hopefully sweet talk him into letting me post in the internets.
So there it is, the first set of adventures this time.
5.11.2008
Life in the Fast Food Lane
Over the course of these last few months, I’ve had the—uh—pleasure of sampling a wide variety of fast food. Here’s the quick list. Honestly, I’d rather forget 100% of these joints.
• Arby's
• Fazzolis
• Moe’s
• QDoba
• Subway
• Taco Bell
• Wendy’s
• Sonic
• McDonalds
• Schlotzky’s
• Panera
• Pita Pit
• Quizno’s
• In ‘n Out Burger
• Applebee’s
• Filiberto’s
• Carl's Jr.
• Arby's
• Fazzolis
• Moe’s
• QDoba
• Subway
• Taco Bell
• Wendy’s
• Sonic
• McDonalds
• Schlotzky’s
• Panera
• Pita Pit
• Quizno’s
• In ‘n Out Burger
• Applebee’s
• Filiberto’s
• Carl's Jr.
5.10.2008
The Home to Road
“And now we’re on state number three for the day,” says Mike the TM as we cross from Ohio to Kentucky. The Tally Hall machine is grinding its way from Michigan to Tennessee in this, the beginning, of our new tour. Today’s drive will be between 10 and 14 hours, depending on traffic and bathroom breaks. I’m betting closer to the 14-hour mark. I feel a little bad, having detained the machine in Ann Arbor while I went to a walk-in clinic. The “throat thing” I’ve had for about two months turned out to be a bacterial infection, so I needed to get a prescription for antibiotics. Given the necessities of touring, I’ll probably not get it filled for a state or two, but what’s another couple days?
In Tennessee we’re going to pick up our tour-mates, De Novo Dahl and Low vs. Diamond. I know absolutely nothing about them, except that we’re going to become well acquainted with each other over the next few weeks. I’m going to try to be more welcoming than I was with the Republic Tigers, who turned out to be totally awesome.
Many apologies for my lack of posting between the beginning of April and now; the East Coast tour turned out to be really intense, not to mention seriously lacking in long drives, which are so perfect for blogmaking. Nevertheless, I do have memories and, since beginnings are a good time to think about the past, I’ll share what I’ve got. The last tour was really schizophrenic; we played everywhere from tiny student coffeehouses to 800 person rock clubs.
Particular treats during the last tour included seeing my parents in Northampton and then having them come to the show in New Haven. My folks hadn’t heard me mix since my very first club gig in Portland on the day before I graduated from college in 2005. I’d like to think that a lot has changed since then, but I know I’ve got a long way to go before I’m as good as I want to be. My dad said “that was cool, did I hear some feedback?” My mom said, “couldn’t you have turned it down for your mother.” I had, of course, mixed quieter than I normally do, but of course it’s never quiet enough for Mom.
Another exciting part of New Haven was getting to see Brett and Julia. Brett is a good friend from high school, and the drummer from my first rock band ever. He and his girlfriend Julia stayed with us in Portland while they were on a road trip of epic proportions. Brett is also a fantastic photographer, and was able to get some pretty great shots of the band. Check out their blog at blog.brettmickelson.com. Brett and Julia took me out to the best pizza I would end up having this tour (sorry, NYC). The spot, Modern Apizza, was on par with Ken’s Artisan or Apizza Scholls in Portland.
I had a homecoming of sorts in Northampton. The Iron Horse Music Hall is the first place I remember going to a popular music concert. When I was 9 or 10, my parents took me to see Mose Allison, a piano playing jazz singer songwriter. The highlight of that Mose show for me was not the actual performance but rather running into Mr. Allison outside of the bathroom just before the performance. Now, I’m not sure what he had ingested, but he left the most odorous stench my young nostrils had experienced. Not only was I a starstruck little piano player, I was an awestruck little farter. Mixing at the Iron Horse was a bit of a challenge, but the room sounded great and the PA, while looking a little funny, filled the space quite well. Adding to my enjoyment of the Iron Horse was the fact that the bartender knew how to pour a G clef into the head on a Guinness. Matt (I hope I’m remembering his name correctly) was a really helpful house guy and just a generally nice dude.
Note: We just passed a sign in Kentucky for “Big Bone Lick State Park.” I love touring.
In New Haven, we played at Toad’s Place, a fairly oversized room for us at 800 capacity. Toad’s crew were really nice—one of two groups of loaders we had this tour—and quite helpful. Their LD, whose name I’m embarrassed to have forgotten, built us a projector platform from scratch. Eric, the production manager/sound guy, was both nice and helpful, in spite of a late arrival.
In Boston (Allston, actually, but who’s counting?), we played at the Great Scott, where the house guy, Ben, was a friend of both Mike, our TM, and Will, my housemate. Ben was the best part of the Great Scott. Ross, Tally Hall’s drummer, sprained his ankle on a hole in the floor at the Great Scott, so that venue gets a big ole frowny-face in my book.
In Brooklyn, we played at the Southpaw, a dingy, typical rock club with a nice staff,. Stage mgr. Ken and sound guy Kevin were both quite helpful and accommodating. The PA sounded pretty good and they had enough toys to keep me busy and out of their hair. Unfortunately, the mix position was about as far away from the stage as it could be while remaining in the same building.
In New York City, we played at the fabled Bowery Ballroom. House guy Kenny, whom I’d been warned about by Si, was definitely the awesomest house guy I’ve ever met; he’s been around forever and knows that room like the back of his grizzled hand. “Yeah, those EQs are on the house, this one’s on the center, that one’s on the bottom clusters, but I usually just keep ‘em flat.” Wow. Not only is Kenny a great dude, the Bowery sounds great. Once a couple people get inside of it, the room cleans up a whole lot and the PA covers so well it’s not even funny. Joe’s guitar buzzed a whole lot, but the guys soldiered on.
In Philly, we played at the North Star Bar, and a special treat was awaiting me at the end of the night. Don, “director of operations” at the sound company, was on his way from Portland to NYC and stopped off for a few beers in Philly with me after our show. It was great to see someone from home. You should check out the band he’s working for right now, they’re called Smoosh. I’ve done monitors for them and they’re not only the politest little girls I’ve ever met, they’re also really good songwriters and very professional performers. Reed, the house guy for the Philly show, was really nice, in a stand-offish kind of way. He seemed to know more about his PA than anyone else we ran across.
Our time in DC included some pretty cool press stops. The first stop was at XM radio, where we were given a really complete tour of the facility. We learned from our tour guide that “you can put a sattelite in space for under $500 million!” We also got to see where the buck stops at XM. In a room reminiscent of Dr. Evil’s control room, sits one person in a futuristic chair, surrounded by video screens displaying all data about every XM station and rebroadcaster. On this person’s right is a trackball, and on his left is a phone. Anytime that phone rings the buck stopper has to be able to fix the problem. Amazing. What’s more amazing is the fact that everyone who goes into the XM offices walks by this person in his glass bubble. Must be a weird job to have, everyone always looking in on you. On the one hand, you have all the power, and on the other you’re like a caged monkey. Dance, monkey, dance.
Our other press stop was at NBC in DC. Our progress between XM and NBC was blocked by the confluence of two of the most powerful people in the world: the president and the pope. What should have been a 20 minute drive took over 2 hours. At NBC, the dudes jumped out, got their “acoustic set” gear and headed for the studio. We were so late at NBC that we ended up also being late for the show at DC9. Our show in DC was forgettable, the house guy was cranky and not the most flexible; the PA sounded fine, if a little beamy. The rest of the night, on the other hand, was amazing. We hung around the venue, DC9, until last call and then went off in search of food. Many places were closed, but when we finally found an open one, it was perfect; they served the largest slices of pizza I have ever seen. I’m not exaggerating when I say that the slices were 10” wide at the crust by 18” from crust to tip. Huge pizza. The pizza joint was run by a bunch of African dudes who were listening to Fela Kuti on a ghetto blaster.
The final show of the tour was in Canton, MI at a high school. The sound company, Signature Audio, did an admirable job of covering the room given the budgetary constraints, but the PA just didn’t quite have the oomph we needed. Of course, I’m not sure they could have put more power in that room, every time Ross hit the kick drum, the console lights dimmed. Eep. I did notice one thing, however: high school students LOVE Tally Hall. They cheered and cheered and cheered and stood and stomped and screamed. It was great to see an audience really get into the show like that. It was also a really fun end of tour show; the Republic Tigers, our support this tour, had gone to a dollar store and bought a whole bunch of hilarious blow up toys and hats and balls and stuff. They filled the stage with funny stuff and threw some at the audience. Dave, the Tigers’ sound guy, and I wore a pink flamingo hat while mixing. I still miss those guys; they were great.
And so, having looked back at the past tour, I think I’m ready for new things. The venues on this tour are larger and better equipped, in general, than the ones we saw last tour. It feels like we’re already in the swing of things. Here’s to traffic jams, fast food, truck stops, fun shows and happy humans.
In Tennessee we’re going to pick up our tour-mates, De Novo Dahl and Low vs. Diamond. I know absolutely nothing about them, except that we’re going to become well acquainted with each other over the next few weeks. I’m going to try to be more welcoming than I was with the Republic Tigers, who turned out to be totally awesome.
Many apologies for my lack of posting between the beginning of April and now; the East Coast tour turned out to be really intense, not to mention seriously lacking in long drives, which are so perfect for blogmaking. Nevertheless, I do have memories and, since beginnings are a good time to think about the past, I’ll share what I’ve got. The last tour was really schizophrenic; we played everywhere from tiny student coffeehouses to 800 person rock clubs.
Particular treats during the last tour included seeing my parents in Northampton and then having them come to the show in New Haven. My folks hadn’t heard me mix since my very first club gig in Portland on the day before I graduated from college in 2005. I’d like to think that a lot has changed since then, but I know I’ve got a long way to go before I’m as good as I want to be. My dad said “that was cool, did I hear some feedback?” My mom said, “couldn’t you have turned it down for your mother.” I had, of course, mixed quieter than I normally do, but of course it’s never quiet enough for Mom.
Another exciting part of New Haven was getting to see Brett and Julia. Brett is a good friend from high school, and the drummer from my first rock band ever. He and his girlfriend Julia stayed with us in Portland while they were on a road trip of epic proportions. Brett is also a fantastic photographer, and was able to get some pretty great shots of the band. Check out their blog at blog.brettmickelson.com. Brett and Julia took me out to the best pizza I would end up having this tour (sorry, NYC). The spot, Modern Apizza, was on par with Ken’s Artisan or Apizza Scholls in Portland.
I had a homecoming of sorts in Northampton. The Iron Horse Music Hall is the first place I remember going to a popular music concert. When I was 9 or 10, my parents took me to see Mose Allison, a piano playing jazz singer songwriter. The highlight of that Mose show for me was not the actual performance but rather running into Mr. Allison outside of the bathroom just before the performance. Now, I’m not sure what he had ingested, but he left the most odorous stench my young nostrils had experienced. Not only was I a starstruck little piano player, I was an awestruck little farter. Mixing at the Iron Horse was a bit of a challenge, but the room sounded great and the PA, while looking a little funny, filled the space quite well. Adding to my enjoyment of the Iron Horse was the fact that the bartender knew how to pour a G clef into the head on a Guinness. Matt (I hope I’m remembering his name correctly) was a really helpful house guy and just a generally nice dude.
Note: We just passed a sign in Kentucky for “Big Bone Lick State Park.” I love touring.
In New Haven, we played at Toad’s Place, a fairly oversized room for us at 800 capacity. Toad’s crew were really nice—one of two groups of loaders we had this tour—and quite helpful. Their LD, whose name I’m embarrassed to have forgotten, built us a projector platform from scratch. Eric, the production manager/sound guy, was both nice and helpful, in spite of a late arrival.
In Boston (Allston, actually, but who’s counting?), we played at the Great Scott, where the house guy, Ben, was a friend of both Mike, our TM, and Will, my housemate. Ben was the best part of the Great Scott. Ross, Tally Hall’s drummer, sprained his ankle on a hole in the floor at the Great Scott, so that venue gets a big ole frowny-face in my book.
In Brooklyn, we played at the Southpaw, a dingy, typical rock club with a nice staff,. Stage mgr. Ken and sound guy Kevin were both quite helpful and accommodating. The PA sounded pretty good and they had enough toys to keep me busy and out of their hair. Unfortunately, the mix position was about as far away from the stage as it could be while remaining in the same building.
In New York City, we played at the fabled Bowery Ballroom. House guy Kenny, whom I’d been warned about by Si, was definitely the awesomest house guy I’ve ever met; he’s been around forever and knows that room like the back of his grizzled hand. “Yeah, those EQs are on the house, this one’s on the center, that one’s on the bottom clusters, but I usually just keep ‘em flat.” Wow. Not only is Kenny a great dude, the Bowery sounds great. Once a couple people get inside of it, the room cleans up a whole lot and the PA covers so well it’s not even funny. Joe’s guitar buzzed a whole lot, but the guys soldiered on.
In Philly, we played at the North Star Bar, and a special treat was awaiting me at the end of the night. Don, “director of operations” at the sound company, was on his way from Portland to NYC and stopped off for a few beers in Philly with me after our show. It was great to see someone from home. You should check out the band he’s working for right now, they’re called Smoosh. I’ve done monitors for them and they’re not only the politest little girls I’ve ever met, they’re also really good songwriters and very professional performers. Reed, the house guy for the Philly show, was really nice, in a stand-offish kind of way. He seemed to know more about his PA than anyone else we ran across.
Our time in DC included some pretty cool press stops. The first stop was at XM radio, where we were given a really complete tour of the facility. We learned from our tour guide that “you can put a sattelite in space for under $500 million!” We also got to see where the buck stops at XM. In a room reminiscent of Dr. Evil’s control room, sits one person in a futuristic chair, surrounded by video screens displaying all data about every XM station and rebroadcaster. On this person’s right is a trackball, and on his left is a phone. Anytime that phone rings the buck stopper has to be able to fix the problem. Amazing. What’s more amazing is the fact that everyone who goes into the XM offices walks by this person in his glass bubble. Must be a weird job to have, everyone always looking in on you. On the one hand, you have all the power, and on the other you’re like a caged monkey. Dance, monkey, dance.
Our other press stop was at NBC in DC. Our progress between XM and NBC was blocked by the confluence of two of the most powerful people in the world: the president and the pope. What should have been a 20 minute drive took over 2 hours. At NBC, the dudes jumped out, got their “acoustic set” gear and headed for the studio. We were so late at NBC that we ended up also being late for the show at DC9. Our show in DC was forgettable, the house guy was cranky and not the most flexible; the PA sounded fine, if a little beamy. The rest of the night, on the other hand, was amazing. We hung around the venue, DC9, until last call and then went off in search of food. Many places were closed, but when we finally found an open one, it was perfect; they served the largest slices of pizza I have ever seen. I’m not exaggerating when I say that the slices were 10” wide at the crust by 18” from crust to tip. Huge pizza. The pizza joint was run by a bunch of African dudes who were listening to Fela Kuti on a ghetto blaster.
The final show of the tour was in Canton, MI at a high school. The sound company, Signature Audio, did an admirable job of covering the room given the budgetary constraints, but the PA just didn’t quite have the oomph we needed. Of course, I’m not sure they could have put more power in that room, every time Ross hit the kick drum, the console lights dimmed. Eep. I did notice one thing, however: high school students LOVE Tally Hall. They cheered and cheered and cheered and stood and stomped and screamed. It was great to see an audience really get into the show like that. It was also a really fun end of tour show; the Republic Tigers, our support this tour, had gone to a dollar store and bought a whole bunch of hilarious blow up toys and hats and balls and stuff. They filled the stage with funny stuff and threw some at the audience. Dave, the Tigers’ sound guy, and I wore a pink flamingo hat while mixing. I still miss those guys; they were great.
And so, having looked back at the past tour, I think I’m ready for new things. The venues on this tour are larger and better equipped, in general, than the ones we saw last tour. It feels like we’re already in the swing of things. Here’s to traffic jams, fast food, truck stops, fun shows and happy humans.
4.07.2008
Rubble rubble rubble rubble rubble rubble
The second show of our warm-up run was at Rubble’s Bar in Mt. Pleasant, MI. We loaded in fairly early and were pleased to see that the promoter from the last night’s show, Corey, was also promoting and doing sound for us at Rubble’s. Corey is a really nice guy with a super great attitude. Rubble’s has a PA system older than anyone in the building. The horn-loaded design, complete with bass scoops, was eerily similar to the PA system I used to build at glamorous Starshine Sound.
"That's not a snowplow, it's my subwoofer!"
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the age of the PA that presented the challenges. Rather, it was the assumptions that the PA’s installer had made about what bands would need and where people would be standing. The PA, which was 3-4’ deep, sits a foot in front of the stage on either side, pointed out. This means that the first 4-5’ worth of audience don’t hear ANYTHING from the main speakers. More disturbing, however, was the fact that, while we had 4 monitors and 4 mixes, only six things could go to the monitors. In a band with four vocals, I had only two channels to play with really. Once again, the guys reminded me of why I love working with them and were totally cool, going with the flow in masterful fashion.
"Monitor World:" Note the lack of graphic equalizers.
After soundcheck, Joe, Zubin, Ross, Andrew and I went to a brew-pub called “Mountain Station.” I’ll be charitable and say that the food was mediocre. I had a pint of their IPA, which was mediocre at best. The hops felt thin and without a decent base of flavor to build on, sort of like a rock band that’s all vocals and no bass. I don’t usually drink before gigs, since my judgment is why the band hired me, but since we had 3 hours between the dinner and work, I decided to have a tasty adult beverage. My wrap was overpriced, under heated and unsatisfying.
After dinner, we wandered back to the club, where I spent a little while talking to my housemate, Will, while wandering the streets of Mt. Pleasant. Mt. Pleasant is a nice enough town, though, as far as I could tell, its downtown was empty on a Sunday evening except for the hundred or so people who came to the Tally Hall show. I did notice one idiosyncrasy: liquor stores in Mt. Pleasant are called “Party Stores.” Before looking in the windows of one of the three “Party Stores” within a 2 block radius of the club, I had thought that people in Mt. Pleasant just liked to throw parties. I guess I was more right than I could’ve imagined.
Talking to Will was great, especially since I could describe to him what I was seeing in Mt. Pleasant, so I could feel like I had someone with me. The whole experience left me with a funny mixture of feelings, at once at home and adventuring, kind of like this whole touring thing. Seems like I spend all of my time doing what I’d wanted to do for so long, while being in strange places with relative strangers.
"That's not a snowplow, it's my subwoofer!"Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the age of the PA that presented the challenges. Rather, it was the assumptions that the PA’s installer had made about what bands would need and where people would be standing. The PA, which was 3-4’ deep, sits a foot in front of the stage on either side, pointed out. This means that the first 4-5’ worth of audience don’t hear ANYTHING from the main speakers. More disturbing, however, was the fact that, while we had 4 monitors and 4 mixes, only six things could go to the monitors. In a band with four vocals, I had only two channels to play with really. Once again, the guys reminded me of why I love working with them and were totally cool, going with the flow in masterful fashion.
"Monitor World:" Note the lack of graphic equalizers.After soundcheck, Joe, Zubin, Ross, Andrew and I went to a brew-pub called “Mountain Station.” I’ll be charitable and say that the food was mediocre. I had a pint of their IPA, which was mediocre at best. The hops felt thin and without a decent base of flavor to build on, sort of like a rock band that’s all vocals and no bass. I don’t usually drink before gigs, since my judgment is why the band hired me, but since we had 3 hours between the dinner and work, I decided to have a tasty adult beverage. My wrap was overpriced, under heated and unsatisfying.
After dinner, we wandered back to the club, where I spent a little while talking to my housemate, Will, while wandering the streets of Mt. Pleasant. Mt. Pleasant is a nice enough town, though, as far as I could tell, its downtown was empty on a Sunday evening except for the hundred or so people who came to the Tally Hall show. I did notice one idiosyncrasy: liquor stores in Mt. Pleasant are called “Party Stores.” Before looking in the windows of one of the three “Party Stores” within a 2 block radius of the club, I had thought that people in Mt. Pleasant just liked to throw parties. I guess I was more right than I could’ve imagined.
Talking to Will was great, especially since I could describe to him what I was seeing in Mt. Pleasant, so I could feel like I had someone with me. The whole experience left me with a funny mixture of feelings, at once at home and adventuring, kind of like this whole touring thing. Seems like I spend all of my time doing what I’d wanted to do for so long, while being in strange places with relative strangers.
Red Lights
After two warm-up shows in Michigan, we’re heading to Albany, NY today. We left Ann Arbor at around 11 this morning. It’s 11 at night now and we’re still about an hour away from Albany. I’m thankful this will be the longest drive of this tour. East coast touring seems to be total cake, driving-wise.
The first warm-up show was at Mac’s Bar in Lansing, MI. I knew our night would be interesting as soon as I walked into the club and smelled that all-too-familiar mix of stale sweat, spilled beer and cigarette ash, all covered with a healthy dose of the citrus tang of Lysol.
As with so many of these small shows, we were faced with the unpleasant reality that people often exaggerate. The club had told Mike, our new tour manager, that there would be four separate monitor mixes.
Mike.
Seeing a monitor-shaped object, I thought I had succeeded in solving my problem. Alas, it was missing an important part. Can you tell which one?
As it turned out, we had to make do with only the pair of monitors on a single mix. I am thankful that this band is so easygoing, monitor-wise. There’s a certain freedom that comes with working for a band: after a little while, you come to learn which shit will float and which will not. This shit floated famously.
Later, I managed to find the venue's backup PA system, and was glad we ended up going with the A-rig.
Between loadin and soundcheck, I managed to crack my head pretty badly on the main speakers, which were hung at a perfect height for aiming at my cranium. After I’d rubbed the goose-egg on my scalp, we soundchecked and, in spite of some other important pieces that were missing from this PA, I got things sounding about as well as they were going to. I am really spoiled in Portland. After soundcheck, we struck our drums and pedals and guitars. I hung around a little bit and enjoyed our luxurious green room.
"Not so bad," you might say.
Oh really?I know, of course, that no matter how healthfully I eat, if I don’t get exercise (which I most certainly do not do on the road), I won’t be in shape, but I can at least try to minimize the damage. I can’t say that I have any more appreciation for my Portland routines of walking everywhere and working at a physically demanding job, because I already did appreciate them quite a bit. My mood and physique both benefited immensely from the strenuous physical demands I placed on my body. I look forward to reestablishing these routines when I get back in April.
Joe and I made it back from our healthy dinner in time to see both openers. Unfortunately, I didn't get any photos of the first openers, Island View Drive, but they were an instrumentally tight pseudo-Indie rock band. The second openers, Empty Orchestra, were really up my alley: blues-based hard rock. They looked really rockin', too:
Tally Hall's performance went pretty well, though somehow the microphone on Rob’s guitar managed to have its cable severed in half. Seth, our intrepid house sound guy, jumped right in and got things going again, thank goodness. Losing Rob’s guitar for a song or two, however, was the least of my worries. I found rather quickly that the sound board at this club had some serious problems. Frustratingly, the problems were serious as far as operation was concerned, but to repair them would have taken nothing more than a can or two of electrical contact cleaner and an afternoon. Allow me to describe the symptoms of a dirty fader*. When you move the fader along its track, bringing up, say, the lead vocal, you will reach a point where the lead vocal, instead of increasing in volume the way you would expect, drops out completely. As you might imagine, this is immensely frustrating.
Sometimes it is possible to get the fader to fix itself by moving it around, but this action almost always causes audible crackling, not the most desirable sound. At one point, try as I might, I could not get the lead vocal to come back, so I resorted to a delicate technique once explained to me by a dear, dear friend. I’ll call it the “eine cable expert**” technique. Having attempted to use more subtle methods to fix your non-functional sound board channel, you apply rapid, violent down-force to the recalcitrant bits. In short, you pound on the sucker until the channel works again. It is really delightful how reliable this method of sound board persuasion can be. Seth came up to find me pounding away on his mixing board and was a little perturbed, but once I demonstrated how effective it was at making broken things function, he backed off.
The band finished the show in extra-special fashion that day; having been inspired by the kind early-Spring weather, they took their acoustic encore (and the audience) out into the world, sitting in a circle in the parking lot across the street and playing “Here Comes the Sun” as the sun came down. I didn’t stay to see it, preferring instead to begin taking down the stage so we could make it back to Ann Arbor that much earlier.
We loaded out pretty quickly and got all the gear crammed into the Sprinter’s cargo space with a minimum of injury or grunting.
We’re almost at the hotel. We’ve got to make a quick pit stop to get Joe, who flew into Albany an hour or so ago. If I’ve posted this on 4/8, it means that there’s wireless internet at the hotel. If it’s later, it means that there’s wireless internet at some other hotel. If I’ve posted this earlier, it means that the space-time continuum has a rupture in it and the universe is over. Long live the universe.
*For those of you asking, “What’s a fader” (hi, Mom), allow me to explain. In general, the fader on a sound board controls the level of its given instrument in the main mix. Unlike the rotary volume controls on your stereo, a fader is linear in appearance. A less common synonym you may be familiar with is “slider.”
**To be said in a German accent.
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