Posted in Features on November 20th, 2014 by H.P. Taskmaster
Something is stirring in the Witch Mountain camp. I don’t know quite what yet, but on Nov. 10, the Portland, Oregon, outfit posted the following: “Just booked studio time to record a song in early December. Details when we are allowed to share them.”
Cryptic but precise, obscure and calculated, the message itself sums up a lot of what Witch Mountain have become over the last few years. After getting off tour this fall Nik Turner‘s incarnation of Hawkwind, the band — founded by guitarist Rob Wrong (to whom I’ve never spoken because he used to review records for stonerrock.com and would blow my meager knowledge of heavy out of the water) and drummer Nathan Carson (who also runs Nanotear Booking and has been interviewed here before) — said farewell to vocalist Uta Plotkin. They lost their bassist at the time as well, but it was Plotkin who grabbed the headlines, and reasonably so. Among metal singers, hers was a singular voice, resonant in its power and presence, but able also to convey emotion, bluesy soul and, particularly in the case of their latest album, Mobile of Angels (review here), a desperate sense of longing.
Their third offering for Profound Lore and third since reactivating following a long hiatus after their 2001 debut, Come the Mountain (discussed here), it’s easy to think of Mobile of Angels as a culmination in light of Plotkin‘s departure, and certainly it is their crowning achievement to date, but it’s also a step in an interrupted progression from their last two outings, 2012’s Cauldron of the Wild (review here) and 2011’s South of Salem (review here). With the constant thread of Billy Anderson‘s production, one can hear Witch Mountain growing on these three albums, becoming the assured, progressive act they are on Mobile of Angels, patiently presenting an all-too-brief 38 minutes that’s beautiful and desolate at the same time.
Carson knows that whoever takes the vocalist role has a challenge ahead of them. In the interview that follows, he talks about how Plotkin‘s leaving took shape, making Mobile of Angels, the mood on this last tour and what they might be looking for in a new singer. The question at this point, after the above Nov. 10 post, is whether or not they’ve found that person. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
We were somewhere in Connecticut on I-95 Northbound when the news came in that Radio Moscow wouldn’t be making it back from the West Coast in time to finish out the last show of the tour with Bang, Pentagram and Kings Destroy. Too bad. It would’ve been a fitting final act for them to roll in, probably several hours late, rush their gear up to the stage and absolutely level The Met in Providence, Rhode Island, which was where the sendoff was held. They pick up with more dates in the Northeast this week, so they’re around, it was just a question of timing. As in, sometimes you miss a 6AM flight.
I thought maybe The Met would get one of Rhode Island’s quality locals to fill the vacant spot and serve as an opening act — members of Pilgrim and Balam were there for the show, and either would’ve been an excellent fit — but instead, it was just the three touring bands to wrap things up. Before the gig actually started, it felt pretty anticlimactic. Another drive north, another weeknight show. After NYC, it seemed like this was more of an epilogue, but in both the bands’ performances and the crowd’s response Providence gave a worthy showing, and particularly for a Sunday evening, was anything but an afterthought.
Man, I’d like to sit here and tell you how fuckin’ air tight Kings Destroy have gotten over the course of the last couple years, how they’ve gelled post their second album, 2013’s A Time of Hunting, but you’d just think I was exaggerating anyway. Whatever. If you don’t know, you don’t know. Point is they killed it again. Got out of the van, loaded in like a machine, soundchecked, stood around, waiting and then immediately pounced once they were on stage. With Radio Moscow off the bill, they had more time, so they aired a couple not yet heard on the tour — “Stormbreak,” “Green Diamonds” (from the new record; first time they’ve played it), and “W2″ (another new one) — along with “Old Yeller,” which went back to the opening spot and “Casse-Tête,” “Smokey Robinson,” “Mr. O” and a would-be finish in “Blood of Recompense.” Steve Murphy was finishing “Blood of Recompense” in the crowd when he got word from Pentagram‘s tour manager, Klaus Koschel (also of EU bookers Vibra Agency), that they had more time. Someone in the crowd on the far side of the stage requested “The Toe,” so “The Toe” it was. A gratifying finish to however many days on the road that the last song they played should come by request from the audience. They jammed out again, ended loud and noisy and thanked the crowd, which by then had filed in considerably from out of the cold, and made way for Bang to put their own end-stamp on the run.
While it’s true of just about everyone I’ve seen on this tour, to say each Bang set has been better than the last seems especially true. And that’s all the more impressive since they’ve been working with the same bundle of songs. The Met‘s crowd went off for Bang as well, so that could’ve had something to do with it. One dude standing up front next to me — I think he plays in Balam as well, though I could be wrong about that — was headbanging so hard he smashed his face into the stage monitor and opened up his eyebrow, was bleeding all over the place. Still headbanging, he covered his can of Narragansett and a good portion of the stage in front of him in a spatter of red before wiping his brow and realizing what was going on. Bang, meanwhile, “The Queen” and “Idealist, Realist” were paying back his blood in warm-toned vintage grooves, guitarist Frankie Gilcken and bassist/vocalist Frank Ferrara soaking up every last second of the stage time while drummer Jake Leger — who I think at this point deserves to be considered at least an honorary Frank — pushed the charge forward, the driving chorus of “Last Will and Testament” by now familiar but welcome all the same. “Questions” rounded out, as it always has, and Bang left the stage thanking the other bands and everybody who came out to see them on their first tour in 42 years. I have the feeling they’ll be out again before too long.
Rhode Island went fucking crazy for Pentagram. Granted, I didn’t see them in Minneapolis or Philadelphia, but Providence had crowd surfing, and that was a first for the run so far as I know. Beer was being thrown around and at one point guitarist Victor Griffin got pissed enough about it to punch his microphone, and frontman Bobby Liebling asked people up front a couple times to please not put their drinks on the stage. There was some light moshing, but really more of just a general crowd press, particularly early on with “Too Late,” “Death Row” and “”All Your Sins.” The hits kept coming with “Sign of the Wolf (Pentagram)” and “Frustration” and “Forever My Queen,” the audience staying with Liebling, Griffin, bassist Greg Turley and drummer Sean Saley every step of the way. Missing in the middle of the set compared to other nights on the tour was the The Animals cover, “Don’t Let Me be Misunderstood,” but I’d overheard them a few days before in Philly talking about bringing out a couple of the Bang dudes for something special at the last show. They wound up doing precisely that, after “Relentless” and “Nothing Left” and a first encore of “Be Forewarned” and “When the Screams Come.” Frank Ferrara took Griffin‘s mic and Frankie Gilcken came out to join in on guitar, and “Don’t Let Me be Misunderstood” served as the last jam of the tour, getting yet another riotous response for the effort put out. With their manager Sean “Pellet” Pelletier and members of Kings Destroy at the side of the stage looking on, you couldn’t have asked for a better or more appropriate ending.
Thanks for reading as always. More pics after the jump and a conclusion after that.
11.03.14 — 4:23PM — Monday afternoon — East Bridgewater, MA
“He fills in the missing details…” — Klaus Koschel, on me
The magnets above I picked up while on the road. I got everywhere the tour went except Michigan (which sucks double since it was two shows) and Rhode Island, since by the time we left the show last night I was in too much of a hurry to go in the rest stop and look for one. I’ll be back in both states, I have no doubt, and will rectify then. Also a few other states we just drove through, and there wasn’t a show in Jersey, but I had to get one for my home state anyway. They’re up on the fridge now along with pictures of my niece and nephews, a Jean-Luc Picard magnet, and sundry old holiday cards.
The Patient Mrs. came to the show last night in Providence, at least for a little bit early. She was there when we got there and she and I went out to a quick dinner before doors. It was beyond excellent to see her, but also kind of a bummer. My head was still deep in tour mode and so I’m sitting across the table from her in this restaurant the heating system of which turned out to be broken and she’s talking about all this interesting stuff she’s thinking about this week and what she’s doing in classes with her students and all I can think about is getting it on and/or making it back to the venue in time. Like a droopy-eyed neanderthal for a dinner companion. Yet another reminder of how utterly outclassed I am in every conceivable way by my spouse. Much better half.
She left a few minutes after Kings Destroy were done. She’d been interested in seeing Radio Moscow, but since they didn’t make it, she split. Had work this morning anyway. I get it. Not really her bag to start with. Though I’m a cave-ogre tragedy of a husband, I appreciated her coming out at all.
I knew the whole night I was driving back to Steve’s after the show. Just under three hours. On the last night of the tour. Pay for all your sins. Yeah, it was about 1:30AM by the time we left after all the last-show hugs and handshakes, packing up, waiting for Rob to put his drums in the cases, and so on. I watched Bobby Liebling dwindle down a whole crowd of people waiting to have their picture taken with him. He made funny faces and hit on dudes’ girlfriends in pretty much the way you’d expect he would, but he handled the whole crowd no problem. Holding court. Some people are born to do it. Some other people walk back and forth in a closing-down-for-the-night venue looking for a place to put themselves and wind up standing outside for 10 minutes in the 40-degree cold chewing ice hoping to start load-out soon. Just the way it goes.
One stop on the way off exit 93 on I-95 Southbound just when you get into Connecticut for gas, then nothing else on the way down. The van started out loud and then got quiet in the way it has most of the night drives, C-wolf, Rob, Carl, Aaron, Jim Pitts all falling asleep, and Steve too up front eventually. Just me awake in the van, barreling along a mostly abandoned I-95, putting in physical effort to stay awake. I had one of those moments right around exit 20 when your brain goes to sleep but your eyes are still open and you’re still conscious — a bizarre separation of self I’ve only felt once or twice before. Can’t say the highway was the best environment for it, but I got us back to Steve’s anyway. Crashed out at 4:30AM, woke up at 8AM, hauled ass three and a half hours back north to Massachusetts and made it home just before noon. My brain is racing, still in tour-mode, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Was nodding off the whole day writing that review of last night.
I can’t wrap this thing up without expressing my deepest thanks to the Kings Destroy guys — Steve Murphy, Carl Porcaro, Chris Skowronski, Aaron Bumpus, Rob Sefcik — for inviting me to head out with them again. Getting the tour ebola and driving through miserable East Coast weather, this was a much different trip than back in the spring — at one point before the show last night, C-wolf told The Patient Mrs. I was, “a moping machine,” with which I couldn’t even really argue — but I still realize how fortunate I am to be able to do this kind of thing, and it was an amazing and special time that I’m glad to have experienced.
Thanks as well to Jim Pitts, to The Patient Mrs., to my sister, to the Radio Moscow guys — Paul, Parker and Anthony — who I was bummed I didn’t get to catch one more time on the tour, to the Pentagram band and crew, to Frankie, Frank and Jake from Bang, to Postman Dan for setting up the Lansing show and the good times that followed, to Travis and Derrick in Lansing, Jeremy at The Pyramid Scheme in Grand Rapids, Sean “Pellet” Pelletier, Klaus Koschel and Mama Jo and Connie, Juan in NYC, John Eager and everyone else I saw along the way.
Most of all, my appreciation to you for reading, commenting, sharing, liking, whatever it may have been. It means more to me than I can say to be able to do something like this, and the only reason it happens is because you give enough of a crap to check it out. I am humbled, perpetually, by the support and response this site gets. Thank you. So much.
And now, to bed.
[Don’t forget those pics from the last show are after the jump below if you’d like to check them out.]
Posted in Features on November 2nd, 2014 by H.P. Taskmaster
11.02.14 — 2:56PM — Sunday afternoon — In van, en route to Providence, RI
“And what will you miss…?” — Bobby Liebling
Had a couple minutes before we had to hit the road from Steve’s place, and took a couple pictures of the band out among the trees and all that. I’ve never been much for promo photos, or photos in general really, or anything, but something to do, anyway. Tour closes out tonight in Providence. I think everyone’s geared up for it — I know I am — and feeling good with some decent rest and a slow start this morning/afternoon, not needing to rush to get to Rhode Island, which is way closer than, say, Burlington, Vermont. Or Minneapolis to Grand Rapids. That was not a short drive. Compared to that, this is like a trip to 7-Eleven.
Radio Moscow are reportedly back tonight. They’re continuing on the East Coast, playing New York, Boston, etc., after this tour is over, so I have little doubt they’ll make it, but it has to be exhausting traversing seaboards like that. I give them credit for even attempting it. This tour waited more than six months between doing West Coast and East Coast. Radio Moscow are doing it in a day. Pretty wild.
The Patient Mrs. is also coming to the show tonight. It’s been more than a week since I’ve seen her, though we spoke more this tour than last time out, I’ll be glad to grab dinner with her and hang out during the show. I’m traveling with the band, so it’ll be back to NY tonight and then back up to MA in the morning — gonna try to leave early, but we’ll see how it goes — and will then sort out the rest of the week from there. Starting to think about getting back to real life, much as I have one, and not thinking about the drive to the next town or whatever. It’s a bit of a transition. Was last time too.
But I will be glad to get home, see The Patient Mrs., the little dog Dio, eat a salad and drink some more homemade iced tea, do laundry and find a place to put one of the posters Jim Pitts set aside for me from along the way, maybe the Philly one or the one with the Halloween masks. I’ve got time to decide, and another day to go before I get there anyway, but I’m excited. It’s been a good run, and the sun is out today and a couple of the guys went home last night — Aaron and C-wolf — so people are relatively well rested, myself included, and ready to kick it out one more time to finish the tour.
“Don’t hit anybody in this neighborhood.” — C-wolf, on driving in Manhattan
We were up early this morning. My watch was set for 7:30 and I was conscious not that long after. Time to head to Manhattan. We stayed in Montpelier, the capital of Vermont, but there was barely a look at it on the way out of town. Fair. I wasn’t awake enough to soak any of it in anyway, so it would’ve been lost on me. We left somewhere right around 9AM. Load-in was reportedly 3 o’clock and it was going to be six hours on the road. Weather? Miserable. Rainy and cold. Stopped in Connecticut at a Wendy’s for lunch. I didn’t get anything. I’ve been sick enough, I don’t need to add that to it, especially with the finish line so close.
The drive was long but not actually terrible until we got near NYC. I fell asleep in the van around Stanford, Connecticut, and woke up sitting in traffic on some on-ramp heading into the city. Won’t complain about that. The KD guys are excited to be back in New York, near home. I am ambivalent at best. Already walked in and asked to get a photo pass and got a “needs clearance with Klaus” (Pentagram’s tour manager) for the first time on the tour. Cool. 10 shows later I’ll go ahead and get right on that. The magic of Manhattan.
Oh yeah, and that 3PM load-in? Got here at four and heard “you’re early!” Good for a chuckle.
In the existential sense.
As opposed to weed candy.
None of the other bands are here yet. Pretty sure beating Pentagram to the venue is a first for the tour. I expected they’d drive all night in their RV, which is what they’ve usually done. A bang on the door got a “What the fucking fuck?” from the guy running the place, and it turned out to be Bang. Again, New York magic. I’ve always been back and forth love/hate with Manhattan, and with the rise of Brooklyn over the last decade, the once central borough itself has little culturally left to offer. City of cocaine, concrete and cupcakes. Even the museum costs $15 to get in and they judge you if you don’t make the suggested donation. Whatever.
Lots of AC/DC on the way down today. Some Baroness to change it up. Now it’s Danzig over the house P.A., no doubt in winking acknowledgement that the Samhain reunion is happening across town tonight. How the Gods Kill. Timing is everything.
Grey weather and lack of sleep in my head. Cough continues to nag, but it’s climate more than anything. Show reportedly has an 11PM curfew, and Providence is relatively close, so should be able to get a decent night’s sleep. And the show will be good. Show’s always good.
Posted in Features on October 31st, 2014 by H.P. Taskmaster
10.31.14 — 5:40PM — Pre-show — Arts Riot, Burlington, VT
“This highway’s actually pretty mint.” — Carl Porcaro
It’s like a riot of the arts, this Arts Riot. Decent size room, supposed to hold about 300 people. I guess they do gallery shows and stuff here as well, which I could see pretty easily. Some of the walls have murals on them and the lighting fixtures are pretty wild. A creative space in what two or three years ago was probably an empty warehouse spot. Concrete floor, brick walls, high ceiling. Going by Sean Saley’s soundcheck, it would be a good room in which to record drums, though you might want to put up some wood paneling somewhere if you were going to go that route, if only for form’s sake.
Blood Ceremony are on the bill tonight in place of Radio Moscow, who had to hightail it back out west to play the Day of the Shred festival, which is tomorrow. I’ve only seen Blood Ceremony once before, at Roadburn 2011, though I can’t seem to find any record of it. Anyway, it happened. They’re stepping in tonight and tomorrow as well and then supposedly Radio Moscow are coming back east to finish out the tour in Providence, which sounds completely insane but totally in character for them. One can only cross one’s fingers and hope last night in Philly wasn’t actually their finish on this tour.
Carl did the drive north this morning. We left Philly with Jim Pitts driving and headed north to Steve’s place in Westchester, which was about two and a half hours on the road, but still it was five-plus more hours north to get to Burlington, and it didn’t really get pretty until we actually got into Vermont. Touched on Massachusetts and stopped for gas, to hit a crummy convenience store, and so on, but got back on the highway as soon as possible. There wasn’t really anything there. Far more productive, at least for the band, was the quick hit to Waterbury, Vermont, to pick up some Heady Topper by Alchemist Brewing. Most of these guys are into craft beers, hoppy stuff, and that was apparently a good get. A sense of victory after four and a half hours on the road is a rare enough thing, so if it’s beer you can’t usually get in NYC that does it, fine.
Steve drove up separately from the rest of the band — he’s got his kids this weekend so is going to be back and forth from New York, heading back late tonight/early tomorrow, meeting everyone else in Manhattan for the show tomorrow, heading up to Providence on Sunday — and I haven’t seen him around as yet, but supposedly he’s here somewhere. I don’t know what time doors are, but Arts Riot seems like the kind of place that if you want to get a decent shot, you need to get up front early. Also seems like the kind of place that’s going to have a couple photographers show up. We’ll see how it goes, I guess. I’m not particularly worried at this point. Of slightly greater concern is the fact that it’s 6PM and I’ve eaten nothing today.
Posted in Features on October 30th, 2014 by H.P. Taskmaster
10.30.14 — 4:17PM — Thursday — Johnny Brenda’s, Philly
“We got a call about a suspicious van…” — The Cop
The smell of barbecue sauce is immediate and pervasive upon walking into Johnny Brenda’s. I’ve said many times before that I’m a huge dork for Philadelphia, and there are a lot of times I miss being in Philly more than New York since I moved away last year. Even being a two-hour drive from this city, just knowing it was there was reassuring. The area around Johnny Brenda’s is much the same as I last left it — hasn’t been that long — if incrementally more gentrified. Someone should set up a camera on Girard Street and do a time lapse for the next five years. You can see the property values being raised in real-time.
A knock came on the hotel door this morning and it was Carl saying we were leaving. Like now? Like now. I took a quick shower anyway — there was time — and hit the Flying J for coffee, iced tea, orange juice and some Tylenol Cold and Sinus. I’d woken up coughing pretty viciously and needed to get that shit under control. Still feel better today than yesterday as regards tour ebola, better than in Pittsburgh. Coffee was alright, which was fortunate because I bought a 24 oz. cup of it, and soon enough we got going. Carl’s had an abscess on his leg for most of the tour and yesterday it became clear enough that it wasn’t going to go away on its own and something needed to be done about it. By something, I mean a lancing and draining of pus. Pop.
He and Steve had tried to go to an urgi-center this morning near the hotel, but to no avail in terms of the place taking Carl’s insurance, so we had to head north a bit into Jersey to find another spot. I think we were somewhere around Cherry Hill when we pulled into the parking lot and he went in, set about filling out forms and all the rest. Steve and Jim Pitts went for a bite of pizza and C-Wolf, Rob, Aaron and I just hung around by the van. It was going to be a while, and yeah, that’s how it worked out. Rob went down the way to CVS and bought a devil mask that he may or may not wear tomorrow night in Burlington for the Halloween show, and I started the review of last night sitting in the parking lot using the place’s wifi so as not to eat up data in the van. My hope is it was vaguely coherent, but I have my doubts. The whole idea for today was that since there wasn’t a long drive — we’ll have five hours tomorrow, give or take, up to Burlington after two-and-a-half tonight to Steve’s place outside NYC — we’d just kind of loaf around the Comfort Inn until it was time to head to Philly. Didn’t quite pan out.
Carl had gone to the CVS to fill his prescription when the cops showed up. Two cars, two officers, said they’d gotten a call about the van. Fair enough. School kids were crossing the street by then and legitimately, it’s a van full of weirdos and longhairs. I mean, in a perfect world they’d be too busy locking up ass-grabbing crossing guards and shit, but I get where they’d want to ask a question and confirm what we were doing there. Steve explained to them that we’re just souls whose intentions are good and asked that we please not be misunderstood. It was an easy enough interaction but any time the cops are involved it could just as easily go the other way, so yeah, a little tense. We picked Carl up in the CVS parking lot and headed out at a perfectly normal speed. Nothing to see here, folks.
In the spirit of Brooklyn’s St. Vitus bar, Johnny Brenda’s is a small place that does good shows. The difference is there’s also a bar/restaurant downstairs here. The gig is sold out, so I expect it will be good and crowded offstage as well as on. I should probably get some food between now and then, or I could just sit here and continue to cough.
“He is an epic failure.” — Aaron Bumpus, about anyone, ever.
Tour ebola is better today, or at least that’s what I’ve been forcing myself to believe as I mainline vitamin C and DayQuil. Tried to pick up some more Advil as well at a truck stop along the way, but failed. I wound up trying to charge an orange juice and had to buy a York Peppermint Patty to get past the two-dollar minimum for credit cards. Feels good. Rock and roll.
Jim Pitts picked up some Who and Thin Lizzy CDs and we listened to them in the van. Probably the right call as we made our way through cold, grey, bum-you-right-out Pennsylvania. I don’t know how many different weather systems we’ve seen — it was like 75 degrees when we got to Cleveland — but it’s been at least three so far, and there are still five shows left. It’s a small wonder the van resounds with coughs.
Slow start to the day, but the good news is I slept and slept hard. I didn’t necessarily feel like I had a choice in that — it was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not — but I’m glad it did. There was about an hour to kill before we left out of New Stanton, where we stayed last night, and headed to Baltimore, so I nodded back off after showering as well. The more the merrier, even if I continued to wake myself up coughing, and likely Carl as well, who has the misfortune to be sharing my room.
Trip to Baltimore was uneventful in the extreme except for Aaron introducing all of us to Mandrill Is, the 1971 second album from NYC’s Mandrill, who ran a line between funk and soul and rock and about five other genres before they were done. I was way into it. Pretty expensive on CD, but I’ll keep my eyes open for a copy. We stopped at a music store so Rob could get a backup head for his kick drum, and there was a barbecue pub right next door so the pre-show meal was had there. Early dinner, I guess. I had yet another in my ongoing series of chicken caesar salads. Chicken was good but the salad itself had almost no dressing on it. I didn’t care. I’ll take raw ruffage at this point. As long as it’s not from a gas station. Jim also bought dinner for everyone, which was very kind, but I threw in cash for myself since it didn’t feel right. Dude certainly doesn’t owe me anything and it’s not like I’m in the band. I don’t know.
Baltimore’s own The Pilgrim are opening the show tonight at Soundstage, so it’s five bands. I remember their self-titled CD from a couple years back was cool, so it will be interesting to see them live and see where they’re at now. Pentagram were soundchecking when we got here and I got to hear them do “Walk in the Blue Light,” which was right on because it’s a good song and though it’s written on the setlist for each night, they haven’t actually been playing it, I guess opting for the Animals cover instead. No complaints there, but if it was one or the other, I’d probably take the original. Whatever my druthers are worth in things like salads and Pentagram setlists.
Posted in Features on October 28th, 2014 by H.P. Taskmaster
10.28.14 — 5:52PM — Tuesday evening — Mr. Smalls balcony, Pittsburgh, PA
“I am Dr. Remulak. I am Dr. Remulak.” — Chris Skowronski and Rob Sefcik
My head feels like it’s going to cave in. Not in that good, rock and roll kind of way either, like when I watched Beast in the Field the other night. Like in the my-sinuses-have-revolted-and-are-trying-to take-the-rest-of-me-down-from-the-inside kind of way. I could feel it yesterday (was that yesterday?) when I woke up at Postman Dan’s, but it started to get real bad overnight last night, tossing and turning, unable to breathe and all that wonderful having-a-cold stuff. Traveling sick. I used to call it SARS. I guess if I wanted to be current I’d call it ebola. Another day, another plague.
I had a cold the week before I left to come on this tour, but was pretty sure I’d gotten over it, so I think this is just another round from the road time, lack of sleep and so on. I got maybe four hours of sleep last night, nodded off at 3:30 and woke up at 4:45 just in agony. It sucked. I shit you not, I walked outside the Red Roof Inn to see how far away I was from the traffic I wanted to go play in, but I was too far to even do that. Fucking brutal. Today I’ve been a full-on booger fountain, and coughing, and the pressure in my head pounding away. I claimed a spot on the balcony at Mr. Smalls — which as a photographer I met in Cleveland last night told me, is an awesome room in a converted old church — and plan to stay here for the duration, but even so, I might not make it through the show before I go back and lay down in the van. Aaron was kind enough to give me a pack of Halls he had that was apparently a spare, and I bought some severe strength DayQuil and have taken Advil in an attempt to bring the swelling down in my sinuses, but nothing’s given me any real relief. I’m also warm as fuck and think it’s probably a fever. My Ron Burgundy impression has taken a real hit as a result.
Honestly, feeling like shit has been my major activity for the day. We stopped once in Ohio on the way to Pittsburgh and sat in some bridge traffic once we got to the city, but other than stopping for a very quiet pre-show meal — not quite dinner, not quite lunch — at some sub-hipster exposed-brick brewpub in what quickly got referred to as the “Massage District” and getting a chicken caesar wrap and some fries and foolishly not getting a cup of coffee when it was being ordered, it’s been pretty tame. There’s like a 70 percent chance I’m going to take my shoes off as I watch this show tonight sitting on the balcony. Maybe even 83 percent. It’s going up by the minute because tilting my head downward to look at the laptop monitor is pushing all the mucus toward my face. Once again, brutal.
It’s worth noting that as of tonight, this tour is more than halfway over. Pittsburgh is the fifth of the 10 dates Kings Destroy are doing with Radio Moscow, Bang and Pentagram, but when you factor in the Lansing show, it’s the centerpiece of an 11-date run and it’ll mean more than half the tour is down when it’s over. A while to go before we get there, since the night hasn’t started, and I won’t say I’m not looking forward to watching the gig, but neither will I mind falling asleep as quickly as I possibly can afterwards and hopefully staying that way for at least five solid hours. Doesn’t seem like an unreasonable demand, but we’ll see how it goes.