and will apparently get it by all means neccessary. the king hen made its donation through the parking/tow truck officials.
after a gruelling 10-hour drive through--but without even setting foot in--mississippi, our welcome to the crescent city was finding the van missing from its french quarter parking spot after a short walk around. apparently it doesn't matter if the rules are not posted and there are no markings on the street or curb: just don't park within 20 feet of an intersection. and make sure to bring cash because the tow / impound folks don't mess around with any of that check or credit garbage.
we were supposed to play CHECKPOINT CHARLIE'S in the french quarter that night, but retrieving our rolling home and all its possessions ate up our time-slot. the--much friendlier--people at the club assured us we could probably wedge ourselves in between the two bands the next night (friday) and it would be just as good, as the saints were currently being slaughtered in their NFL season opener, and nobody really had the gumption to go celebrate.
that gave us a night off in this city, as beautiful and delicious as it is dangerous and screwed up. we got a great deal on a sweet hotel room right in the thick of things, and bore witness to all the sleaze and revelry that occupies these amazing environs at night. we were joined by aaron's childhood pal lance, and his good-humored girlfriend liz, our local designated court-jesters.
what can one say about the french quarter that hasn't been said a million times before? there were rows of bars all blasting well-executed cover songs all night long (choose your familiar genre) there were well-dressed and predatorily drunk nascar dads, and their vomiting sons staggering around in anticipation for some big weekend football event; there were many Girls About To Go Wild, and everywhere there were the folks who were desperately--and effectively--taking their money. it smelled like gumbo and puke and flowers and human shit wherever you went. we decided that observation was safer than participation, and made it to bed safely before the sun came up on friday
after self-guided walking tours, a visit to a classic n.o. cemetary, amazing down-home gumbo, and a drive through several still mostly-abandoned neighborhoods, we gratefully slipped our 35-minute set between the two 3-hour bands back at checkpoint charlie's. here we discovered another new orleans entirely: the one made up of musicians who seem to be here in order to stay playing the blues and stay stoned most of the time. very haggard, but very good people. and of course music-wise we were the kids wearing water-wings at the olympic swimming event. we didn't quite fit the new orleans music typology, but were warmly received and entertained by T-BONE STONE AND THE LAZY BOYS first; and SLEWFOOT & CARY B. after us. these guys are better than the stereotype, and i must confess i fell madly in love with bass-player/singer cary b's left hand. and developed a deep crush on everything it was attached to.
meanwhile the debauchery escalated down on bourbon street, and once again the king hen escaped disgrace and embarrassment just enough to get out of town the next morning with all but a percentage of our livers intact.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Friday, September 7, 2007
through the music state and back again
MEMPHIS:
i think memphis might have a screw loose. or at least from the narrow view memphis afforded us.
after back-to-back-to-back locations where we got to relax and wander a bit between gigs, the king hen got back into the guerilla-strike routine of this tour's early days. this made our entire experience of tennessee seem like quite the soggy blur.
these kinds of days have developed something of a formula: the companion-bands, the crazy drunks at the bar, the benefactor, the random and surreal variable.
the companion bands in memphis pretty much schooled us with regard to musicianship and professional gear. there is obviously tremendous talent oozing out of air in the hometown of elvis and b.b. king--even in divey little rawk clubs like murphy's. ORGAN THIEF opened the set and blew our minds all over the club. this quartet was easily the best band we've been teamed up with so far, and so much better than those crusty old cover-artists down on beale street.
suitably intimidated, the king hen took the stage and at least kept the house surprisingly crowded and happy and loud for a rainy tuesday night. this would be only a weekend crowd in portland. despite the depths of musical awesomeness that we found ourselves floundering in, everyone was very nice and complimentary. valerie--companion to organ thief's guitar-acrobat brian--took up a collection for us during our set and managed to drum up more than $35 in single dollar bills. we felt like strippers, but grateful nonetheless. later, brian and valerie put is up at their house with very expensive guitars everywhere, and the most amazing 70's funk video on the dvd
the random and the surreal? geeze, where do we begin? was it the scary but happy metal-dude trying to get a homemade roman candle lit off the top his bald head? was it the blind-drunk woman screaming lewd manifestoes out her car window peeling out of the bar parking lot and across the lawn? was it her friend who tried to eat broken glass? was it the strange and disturbing sounds in the night? was it the offer to sleep on someone's ping pong table?
NASHVILLE:
we could have taken brian and valerie up on their offer to make us hash-browns in the morning but the hen had to get back across the length of the state to nashville's 'voted #1 punk club 2 years running': the SPRINGWATER SUPPER CLUB that night.
another racous crowd greeted us at the little dive right across from the giant replica of the athens parthenon. this place and its people were much more your basic hard-rock crowd, a tad scarier and more road-weary looking than in memphis, but ultimately less freaky as well. the back door smelled like vomit and barbeque sauce all-in one, and the men's room was a horror to behold, but--in true punk rock fashion--it was a very friendly and unpretentious vibe.
once again we were the middle band of three--rapidly becoming our favorite spot in the lineup. our colleagues didn't have quite the pro-grade talent that we experienced the night before but they made up for it in other ways. the first band was FOX CULT, all L.A. metal-style with skinny torsos in tanktops, long hair, headbands and eyeliner. the lead guy played a ricky bass like mine but got some amazingly chunky sounds out of the thing and left me feeling extra not-worthy. they had a strut and a sound and an attitude onstage, but were the sweetest and friendliest fellers offstage, all encouragements and compliments. the band after us, the FLASHCUT PINUPS made up for a seeming lack of practice and an un-heard bass (with an 8x10 speaker nonetheless!) with a strangely appealing sound with 2-part vocal girl-harmonies and a woman-drummer who sang and played a full drum kit all while standing up. you don't see that every day.
our benefactor of the night was the amazing marie feldhaus, my step-aunt. we didn't party like rock stars that night, but it was just as well. she had 4 beds for us, and coffee, bagels, bananas, orange juice, and great conversation for us early the next morning. this sweet lady and her entire family are the very definition of southern hospitality. thanks for marrying my dad, edie! we acted like normal people for once and actually hit the road at 8:30, staring a 9.5 hour drive to new orleans in the face, and an early 7pm show.
i think memphis might have a screw loose. or at least from the narrow view memphis afforded us.
after back-to-back-to-back locations where we got to relax and wander a bit between gigs, the king hen got back into the guerilla-strike routine of this tour's early days. this made our entire experience of tennessee seem like quite the soggy blur.
these kinds of days have developed something of a formula: the companion-bands, the crazy drunks at the bar, the benefactor, the random and surreal variable.
the companion bands in memphis pretty much schooled us with regard to musicianship and professional gear. there is obviously tremendous talent oozing out of air in the hometown of elvis and b.b. king--even in divey little rawk clubs like murphy's. ORGAN THIEF opened the set and blew our minds all over the club. this quartet was easily the best band we've been teamed up with so far, and so much better than those crusty old cover-artists down on beale street.
suitably intimidated, the king hen took the stage and at least kept the house surprisingly crowded and happy and loud for a rainy tuesday night. this would be only a weekend crowd in portland. despite the depths of musical awesomeness that we found ourselves floundering in, everyone was very nice and complimentary. valerie--companion to organ thief's guitar-acrobat brian--took up a collection for us during our set and managed to drum up more than $35 in single dollar bills. we felt like strippers, but grateful nonetheless. later, brian and valerie put is up at their house with very expensive guitars everywhere, and the most amazing 70's funk video on the dvd
the random and the surreal? geeze, where do we begin? was it the scary but happy metal-dude trying to get a homemade roman candle lit off the top his bald head? was it the blind-drunk woman screaming lewd manifestoes out her car window peeling out of the bar parking lot and across the lawn? was it her friend who tried to eat broken glass? was it the strange and disturbing sounds in the night? was it the offer to sleep on someone's ping pong table?
NASHVILLE:
we could have taken brian and valerie up on their offer to make us hash-browns in the morning but the hen had to get back across the length of the state to nashville's 'voted #1 punk club 2 years running': the SPRINGWATER SUPPER CLUB that night.
another racous crowd greeted us at the little dive right across from the giant replica of the athens parthenon. this place and its people were much more your basic hard-rock crowd, a tad scarier and more road-weary looking than in memphis, but ultimately less freaky as well. the back door smelled like vomit and barbeque sauce all-in one, and the men's room was a horror to behold, but--in true punk rock fashion--it was a very friendly and unpretentious vibe.
once again we were the middle band of three--rapidly becoming our favorite spot in the lineup. our colleagues didn't have quite the pro-grade talent that we experienced the night before but they made up for it in other ways. the first band was FOX CULT, all L.A. metal-style with skinny torsos in tanktops, long hair, headbands and eyeliner. the lead guy played a ricky bass like mine but got some amazingly chunky sounds out of the thing and left me feeling extra not-worthy. they had a strut and a sound and an attitude onstage, but were the sweetest and friendliest fellers offstage, all encouragements and compliments. the band after us, the FLASHCUT PINUPS made up for a seeming lack of practice and an un-heard bass (with an 8x10 speaker nonetheless!) with a strangely appealing sound with 2-part vocal girl-harmonies and a woman-drummer who sang and played a full drum kit all while standing up. you don't see that every day.
our benefactor of the night was the amazing marie feldhaus, my step-aunt. we didn't party like rock stars that night, but it was just as well. she had 4 beds for us, and coffee, bagels, bananas, orange juice, and great conversation for us early the next morning. this sweet lady and her entire family are the very definition of southern hospitality. thanks for marrying my dad, edie! we acted like normal people for once and actually hit the road at 8:30, staring a 9.5 hour drive to new orleans in the face, and an early 7pm show.
A (possible) PORTLAND HOMECOMING SHOW
so we figured we'd cash in on all this live-show practice out here in u.s.a-land and give you a taste of what we've been up to. we're TENTATIVELY booked to play thursday, 20 september at the good old TONIC LOUNGE (3100 n.e. sandy blvd, portland, or), so start your weekend early! more info as this gets confirmed....
images: dc through nashville
rockstar macdonald at the galaxy hut, arlington virginia
window-display dave
what film school professors get up to when you give them your camera
post-gig tempest with leena at the eye of the storm
when you really know you're in the south
memphis politics
memphis philosophy
memphis economics
nashville hospitality
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
virginia is for truckers
The king hen hit the 5000 mile-mark in Lexington, the creepiest cute college town on this planet. We were on the search for our first ‘authentic’ southern food and only found penne pasta and grilled turkey sandwiches in the village tucked between the last bastion of all-male old-money higher education and the Virginia military academy.
Sorry pops, but it was dark by the time we got close to the martin ancestral fort at the Cumberland gap, and the hardware restaurant in Abingdon was closed for labor day.
Knoxville = super-8 motel and a midnight BLT from the waffle house for the king hen. Today we cover the length of Tennessee on our way to tonight’s gig in elvis’s hometown. We stopped for lunch in Nashville and finally found what we were looking for, recommended ad hoc by a pretty street-urchin. Thanks for the tip on rippey’s ribs, meth-girl.
ANNOUNCEMENT:
At least one of the members of this band will attempt to dine on nothing but fried catfish and sweet tea until we reach texas. A possible exception will be made in new Orleans for obvious reasons.
…another all/mostly photo post soon. Promise.
Sorry pops, but it was dark by the time we got close to the martin ancestral fort at the Cumberland gap, and the hardware restaurant in Abingdon was closed for labor day.
Knoxville = super-8 motel and a midnight BLT from the waffle house for the king hen. Today we cover the length of Tennessee on our way to tonight’s gig in elvis’s hometown. We stopped for lunch in Nashville and finally found what we were looking for, recommended ad hoc by a pretty street-urchin. Thanks for the tip on rippey’s ribs, meth-girl.
ANNOUNCEMENT:
At least one of the members of this band will attempt to dine on nothing but fried catfish and sweet tea until we reach texas. A possible exception will be made in new Orleans for obvious reasons.
…another all/mostly photo post soon. Promise.
THE F WORD
There are a few words in the English language that officially mean one thing but are used to describe so many other different things. Our short stay in Washington DC was packed full of so many different experiences, encounters and escapades, but all of them can be summed up easily enough with one word: FUN. To the king hen, Washington DC was f***ing fun.
We rolled up the beautiful rock creek parkway hung-over from a week of east-coast urban exploration, the hospitality of new and old friends, and—oh yes—a handful of shows at under-attended clubs. The hair of the dog greeted us at erik’s friends leena and sean’s house in the form of grilled burgers, chicken, franks, ice-cold coronas and my new favorite beer, pannsylvania’s own yuengling lager.
It’s funny how everywhere we go people have happily rescued us from the privations of the road with food and comfort—so much so that all this food and comfort have actually turned out to be the rule, not the exception.
That said, the good times and hospitality provided by lina, sean, leena’s sister seema, and court-jester jerry were truly exceptional.
Post-barbeque the DC fun machine crossed the river into Arlington and settled at our next venue, the GALAXY HUT. What appeared to be a small café was actually a bar and music venue, and the hen was squeezed into the smallest ‘stage’ yet, our backs to the storefront but facing a happy crowd.
After the all-around sparseness of our boston and new york shows this one turned out to be quite the warm oasis, with jerry cheer-leading the house and actually pretty good money from the door and from our merchandise. The sweet pop band ARDENNES headlined the show, and we should probably thank them for bringing the crowd that welcomed us equally. But for us they provided more base pleasures, such as coburn dukeheart (yes, that’s her real name) the drummer everyone fell in love with, and singer-tina’s bass, which I not-so silently coveted. Suitably heartbroken, we dutifully drank the shots bought for us by leena & co. at the bar down the street, before heading back to their place for nightcaps and more entertainment provided by good old jerry.
If that wasn’t enough we awoke to eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash-browns and coffee. Here’s to leena, the coolest Indian punk-rocker/filmmaker/photography professor/hostess/pug-owner I’ve ever met!
Needless to say things were pretty somber and subdued on our endless drive through Virginia the next day.
Now that labor day is past it’s back to school for all you kids and back to work for the king hen. After so much….er, fun over our past week in the big cities of the east coast it definitely feels like this tour is moving into a third chapter. Like everything before us we have no idea what it will entail, but I have a hunch there will be a lot more driving..
We rolled up the beautiful rock creek parkway hung-over from a week of east-coast urban exploration, the hospitality of new and old friends, and—oh yes—a handful of shows at under-attended clubs. The hair of the dog greeted us at erik’s friends leena and sean’s house in the form of grilled burgers, chicken, franks, ice-cold coronas and my new favorite beer, pannsylvania’s own yuengling lager.
It’s funny how everywhere we go people have happily rescued us from the privations of the road with food and comfort—so much so that all this food and comfort have actually turned out to be the rule, not the exception.
That said, the good times and hospitality provided by lina, sean, leena’s sister seema, and court-jester jerry were truly exceptional.
Post-barbeque the DC fun machine crossed the river into Arlington and settled at our next venue, the GALAXY HUT. What appeared to be a small café was actually a bar and music venue, and the hen was squeezed into the smallest ‘stage’ yet, our backs to the storefront but facing a happy crowd.
After the all-around sparseness of our boston and new york shows this one turned out to be quite the warm oasis, with jerry cheer-leading the house and actually pretty good money from the door and from our merchandise. The sweet pop band ARDENNES headlined the show, and we should probably thank them for bringing the crowd that welcomed us equally. But for us they provided more base pleasures, such as coburn dukeheart (yes, that’s her real name) the drummer everyone fell in love with, and singer-tina’s bass, which I not-so silently coveted. Suitably heartbroken, we dutifully drank the shots bought for us by leena & co. at the bar down the street, before heading back to their place for nightcaps and more entertainment provided by good old jerry.
If that wasn’t enough we awoke to eggs, pancakes, sausage, hash-browns and coffee. Here’s to leena, the coolest Indian punk-rocker/filmmaker/photography professor/hostess/pug-owner I’ve ever met!
Needless to say things were pretty somber and subdued on our endless drive through Virginia the next day.
Now that labor day is past it’s back to school for all you kids and back to work for the king hen. After so much….er, fun over our past week in the big cities of the east coast it definitely feels like this tour is moving into a third chapter. Like everything before us we have no idea what it will entail, but I have a hunch there will be a lot more driving..
Monday, September 3, 2007
*secret blog entry*
[Editor's Note: This entry was written in Arlington, VA by Aaron, who stayed up late by himself drinking.]
hold on
so it burned when i peed just now.. and that's pretty fucking hilarious considering i haven't done anything untoward (ever) as far as i can tell. co-incidence, perhaps, because i just saw emily in new york city (!) and moments later played a show in arlington, virginia. too strange great applause, labor day weekend and gorgeous weather and friends and all.
pleasently lit in arlington v irginia, perhaps. or maybe D.C. proper.. rockridge way express prkway, or something. an awesome three story house amongst lesser houses, with more than enough scenic decks to 'go around'. our hosts are awesome rock/roll kids made good, and they were plenty generous..
it's too much to fathom, at points/pints.
i drink a l ot. but i also enjoy it a l ot. ha!
litlttle joke there, you see. (?)
jerry was also nice, and i ended up thinking a great deal about old tom an jerry cartoons:
at least one french revolution/three musketeers episode (with a cute younger mouse with grey skin)
the ice skating episode, where jerry floods the kitchen and freezes it, by leaving the freezer open.. fuck yeah, tom and jerry.
tom had some wings one time... he made them from some pink material with batwing like features.. that was always on eo fmy favorties. strupid letters, stupid words.
arlington, virginia might have ruind my heart. 'cause it's for lovers. the most intriging women live here.. jaw dropping stupefying accidental charmers,l it's a good time. the days are ours, and i chew my nails. this guy named jerry (i think) wins the prize,. huzaah h e wins he wins.
tom and jerry are animated characters, a distinct record of my emotinoal identity. violence and wounds and sound all married under a complex polyamorous agreement, i should'nt bore yo9u. fuck off any how, eh>?
maybe more french revolution/three musketeers episodes (with a cute younger mouse with grey skin) 'cause i liike thinking about those. i think they're hungry in one episode, nd have a giant thanksgiving dinner.. could that be true? sounds too good to be.
ha!
tom and jerry cartoons a(o9had)r ( 910)e pretty good.. a lot of music, you know. puppet theater of a sort, and i compose puppet operas. but i don't have any puppets.
i love that shit
ha
11!!
!
.
hold on
so it burned when i peed just now.. and that's pretty fucking hilarious considering i haven't done anything untoward (ever) as far as i can tell. co-incidence, perhaps, because i just saw emily in new york city (!) and moments later played a show in arlington, virginia. too strange great applause, labor day weekend and gorgeous weather and friends and all.
pleasently lit in arlington v irginia, perhaps. or maybe D.C. proper.. rockridge way express prkway, or something. an awesome three story house amongst lesser houses, with more than enough scenic decks to 'go around'. our hosts are awesome rock/roll kids made good, and they were plenty generous..
it's too much to fathom, at points/pints.
i drink a l ot. but i also enjoy it a l ot. ha!
litlttle joke there, you see. (?)
jerry was also nice, and i ended up thinking a great deal about old tom an jerry cartoons:
at least one french revolution/three musketeers episode (with a cute younger mouse with grey skin)
the ice skating episode, where jerry floods the kitchen and freezes it, by leaving the freezer open.. fuck yeah, tom and jerry.
tom had some wings one time... he made them from some pink material with batwing like features.. that was always on eo fmy favorties. strupid letters, stupid words.
arlington, virginia might have ruind my heart. 'cause it's for lovers. the most intriging women live here.. jaw dropping stupefying accidental charmers,l it's a good time. the days are ours, and i chew my nails. this guy named jerry (i think) wins the prize,. huzaah h e wins he wins.
tom and jerry are animated characters, a distinct record of my emotinoal identity. violence and wounds and sound all married under a complex polyamorous agreement, i should'nt bore yo9u. fuck off any how, eh>?
maybe more french revolution/three musketeers episodes (with a cute younger mouse with grey skin) 'cause i liike thinking about those. i think they're hungry in one episode, nd have a giant thanksgiving dinner.. could that be true? sounds too good to be.
ha!
tom and jerry cartoons a(o9had)r ( 910)e pretty good.. a lot of music, you know. puppet theater of a sort, and i compose puppet operas. but i don't have any puppets.
i love that shit
ha
11!!
!
.
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