So, I meant to do so much. I wanted to tell you about the amazing
hotdogs in Austin. I wanted to tell you about playing Ariel's house
party, and how I got addicted to spicy olives. I wanted to tell stories
about countless amazing shows (the best of my life) and about oceans
upon oceans of weirdos in orbit around the places we play. I wanted
to tell you about eating In and Out Burger next to Ryan Phillipe and
how we saw him get kissed on the cheek by some spanish hookers.
I wanted to tell you about all of the amazing friends that I've made,
almost on a daily basis. I wanted to tell you about Lubbock and how
it just keeps getting nastier. I wanted to tell you about Dylan seeing
a dude doing heroin in SF just moments before we all saw the world's
most massive breasts, completely exposed in the chilly San Francisco
evening. I wanted to tell you about Provo, and how I fell madly in
love with it's sexy weirdness and it's weird sexiness. I meant to tell
you about all of the awful and inappropriate things that we say to
strangers (usually nice ones that don't deserve it). There has been
so much great food...god. I wanted to paint you a picture of Nampa
Idaho, where this fucking lunatic asshole dipshit talked about how
he'd like to murder Barack Obama (and then bought our CD, thanks
you psychofuck). I wanted to talk about Arachtating, Whorebaths,
Bagpiping (sexually speaking), Ludidites, top-shelfing, Pariahpisms,
Smokin' Bros, Rehab Wolf, religious serial killer shit, Birdie The
Bird, LA's Cocaine problems, and a gutterpunk shaman named
Railroad Pete.
     The fact of the matter is, this tour has just been too fast. There has
been no opportunity to document· "Trimming the tour fat" from last
time's model means cutting a 5.5wk trip all the way around the US
into a 4.5wk trip, which means the drives have been massive, the
pace frantic, and the forward motion has been non-stop. I have never
felt so crazy in my life, but completely exhilarated. Aside from the
suicidal pace, this trip has completely changed me as a person. I have
never had so much fun or learned so much.
       Tour fever has gripped our van by the balls. With both hands. We
spend all day, every day, CACKLING at the top of our lungs. Usually
at nothing at all. It feels really special/psychotic. Every night, the stage
banter gets a little more and a little more polluted by the van madness.
I would encourage anyone who can to catch one of these remaining
shows, as I am sure that things are finally going to reach their fever
pitch in weirdness, in crassness, in complete confusion and joy. The
long days in the van are only bearable now because we are all crazy.
We love each other so much and are absolutely out of our minds now.
     And so, I'm sorry. We have all agreed that this pace is too much and
we will be finding the balance for our next trip around, which will be
not too far away. I promise to do a better job next time, assuming that
we are actually traveling reasonable distances everyday and sleeping
on occasion. I promise to keep up next time.

Like I said, it's just been too fast. We're all starting to feel the actual
warning signs of fatigue (keep in mind that we are cramped up 12hrs
per day, then we do a bunch of lifting, then play as hard as we can,
do more lifting, then cramped travel, then sleep on floors). Our poor
little bodies are really starting to hurt, but we are totally focused on
the prize: CMJ!! We are doing 3 shows and a big radio performance
for KEXP (at Gibson......!!!!). It's going to be a huge celebration for
us, as we will then be at the end of the hardest, most amazing tour
ever. We're going to knock CMJ's dick in the dirt.
   Despite the fatigue, I would venture to say that I've never been so
satisfied by musical endeavor. It's a real stretch to try and keep up
with a tour this fast, and it leaves me happy and out of breath at
every little breather from travel (usually in somebody I don't
know's livingroom, like now). The tourblog not really staying up
to speed is my only regret. Besides that, this has been easily the
best. My bandmates are lovely and brilliant and hilarious, all day,
every day. I have seen  this country put on a brilliant display of it's
different versions of Autumn. I have made more friends than I have
ever counted at one particular time. I have had some truly eye-
opening and self-realizing  moments. I don't feel 1bit like that boy
I was when I left on this trip. I feel brand new. Nothing in me is the
same. It's so different. I'm so different now. This is a scary, exciting
time for me.
   I have to sleep now. It's 3:20am and we start moving again in
no time, like always. There has been no sleep on this tour, only
dark AM catnaps. We just keep going. Never stopping, except
to buy some delicious $2 ethanol!

what an adventure.

ww

p.s. I used your toothpaste without asking, America.

Friends and Lovers.

            So, so, so sorry for the concern over whether or not I would
be documenting this trip around the map. Of course I am. I only
thought it might be more interesting (and a bit easier for me to
be sure that I'm telling the best overview stories) to do this blog
by region. I write you this from the quiet of my downstairs bedroom
in Dallas. I tell you the tale of our dance through the southern
states...

          To protect the innocent, the unfamiliar, and the ashamed, I
will be shifty with some of these accounts. Use your imagination
and don't ask questions. You will either get it right, or you will
think it's even better. The South presented me with several
lessons and important existential questions that I really appreciate
and have carried them with me.

          Our quest, as you know by now, began where we live: in the
dirty, dirty, skanky, sweaty, filthy, dirty south. Our trip began at Go
Bar in Athens. Our first show of tour would prove to be our most
successful stop in Athens ever. We made money and had a really
great turnout (which is shocking for a monday, always). This was
my first night playing the keyboard in front of people, which had my
balls wound-up a little tight, but in the end, it was pretty good.

  To be honest, Athens did not present much in the way of knowlege,
except this painful truth:

         If you take a girl out, and you have to beg her to dance, don't
beg her to do the robot with you. You are an adult.

 Athens also presented us with this universal question:
 
       How much does Physics' drummer Dylan Thurston love party
animal Spuds McKenzie? Does he love him enough to use a Spuds
towel that was JUST used by another dude, still wet with his manly
shower leavings?  

        We ended our stay in Athens with a meal at The Grit, as usual.
Big thanks to Dana Shroeder for bringing cookies and sharing them
with only me. IN YOUR FACE, BANDMATES.

Tuscaloosa: 'I'm about to make this nerd feel really bad about himself.'

        We drove on to Tuscaloosa, and everyone was a mixture of
excited and afraid. Last Spring's stop in Tuscaloosa became a thing
of dark legend, after being almost robbed and threatened by nazi's
and farted on and anally penetrated (by hand, not otherwise), we
only prayed that this time Tuscaloosa would play nice.

     And they did! We played at The Mellow Mushroom, which for
whatever reason, is a REAL venue there! It was a big, nice stage
with pro lights and great sound. We played with a great band called
The Bonky Bonks. During their set, I was using my free drinks to get
strangers drunk. One particular young drunk coed from the University
and I had a really deep moment that really made me re-evaluate my
life:

(hardcore southern accent understood)
drunk girl: So, is this like....what you do with your liiife?
me: currently.
drunk girl: You know what I'd do with my liiife if I was like you?
me: ......
drunk girl: Climb
me:....
drunk girl: CLIMB
me: climb what?
drunk girl: .......
(drunk girl walks away)

   Deep.

  And then we went to Louisiana. We always look forward to
Louisiana. My father lives there, and he always knows how to
really bring the pain. My dad is hilarious and sweet and wonderful.
This time, though, he had very little to do with our stay in Louisiana
being the most SURREAL AND FUCKING CRAZY SHIT OF
ALL TIME.
  New Orleans started off like so many of our nights there: Eating
dinner with my father and Sylvia in the Quarter (where my Dad was
nice enough to point out that Wylie's sausage dinner looked 'kinda
sexual'.....thanks, dad). We got beignets at DuMonde and went to
Lee Circle to eat them at the base of the statue across from the
beautiful Hotel L'Cirque. Afterwards, at Circle Bar (the venue we
all agree is the most perfect for this band..like a livingroom in a novel
about vampires) we put on one of the best shows we''ve ever played.
After the show, Daniel and Wylie were tired and wanted to head out
of the city to my Dad's house in Baton Rouge, but Dylan Thurston and
I did not come on this tour to sleep. We came to represent. So with
a brood of show-goers, we headed off into the night for one of the
blurriest, most hilarious nights that I can partially remember. Here is
a short image list. If you would like to write your own version of the
story, please feel free to post it. Images are as follows, in no particular
order:

  A statue of a Panther, A bathroom hidden behind a bookshelf,
A blue-ribbon mammary siminar, Hand Granades, Making out on the
back of said Panther, A slowly tilting hat, A brush with public nudity,
 a thin layer of fabric, A cat in heat, Walking with a ghost, A witch with
HepC, a pill-popping 100mph white-knuckle thrillride across Lousiana swampland, McWeed, Bleeding from the ear or is it picante sauce?,
80's dance night, strangers in the night, the soundtrack to our
certain death.

 Good luck turning this stuff into a story as good as the truth. We are so
excited to see what you can come up with.

    Needless to say, Baton Rouge was a day of recovery for Master
Thurston and myself. The show was wonderful and we got to visit with
our favorite girls on wheels...The Redstick Rollerderby girls!! They
brought us bathsalts to make our van smell less like a corpse and
challenged me to take a mexican tally of towed vehicles. So far, it's
white people 1, Mexicans: 6.


  Well, that's what we've done so far! Next blog: Texas and The Southwest!

This is Wil Wright, reporting from Physics of Meaning and our 'The Pork
Swordsmen of the Apocolypse 2008 tour'

ww

 

" target="_self">where did the light go?

  Hello babies.

     I discovered the "toro de fuego" or "bou embolat" a long time ago, and
since then, it has haunted my mind. So many dreams. So often, it shows up
in my dreams for no reason at all, walking back and forth, trying to find it's
way. So often, it is the only light in my dream, and if I want to see at all, I
have to follow. Sometimes, I am the toro. It is always scary. Always
confusing. Welcome to one of our new album's central images. More
pictures soon. For now, some news that you might find useful...

LIMITED EDITION COPIES OF THE GUILTY PARTY RAGES ON
While the album will not be properly released for another month, You
my just find it in your hands before then. And in interesting fashion.

It seems like only yesterday that we were bringing Josh Godin into the
Senryu family. An unheard of Knoxville artist who we could very clearly
see was a miraculous talent. Josh came into our family and has since done
countless beautiful pieces for us. His posters, shirt-designs, and album art
concepts have become some of our most memorable trademarks. Since
then, Josh has really come out into the light. We are so proud of him and
his current/pending glory in the world of graphic art.

 Along the same lines, we have been lucky enough to tap the talents
of another budding knoxvillian artist, this time to design the (very) limited
edition packaging for The Guilty Party Rages On. Visual artist Rachel
Brady has agreed to design a set of 10  hollow books(!) that will house
special copies of TGPRO, and include 3 b-sides and a free poster to the
10 of you who can get one. The books are hand-painted, numbered, and
we are so, so very excited to have them! (that is, until we mail them to
YOU).
 
      Because there are only 10 copies, we were a little concerned with
the most fair way to sell them. Obviously, it would be unfair to put them
on sale at a show, because if you live far away, then you have no chance.
Thank goodness for the internet!! We have determined that the only fair
way to sell these is by putting them exclusively for sale online. We will
announce what site we're using to sell them in the next week. After that,
we will set a time to begin taking pre-orders. The hollow books will ship
well before the album's proper  release.

    We're playing a secret show this weekend. Could there be a book there?

More news soon!!

The Guilty Party Rages On is our new album. It is 11 songs
long. These are the songs, in this order...

1.The Soft Disconnect
2.Cutting The Chord
3.Hollow Book
4.Disappearing Boys With Disappearing Hearts
5.Come and Get Me
6.Dousing The Light
7.The Guilty Party Rages On
8.End of the End of the End of the End
9. 3 Burning Queens
10.Tiny Killer
11.While They Sleep, We Build

The album was recorded by Don Coffey, Jr.
We wrote it slowly but surely over the last 1.5yrs.
Josh Godin is doing the cover.
Rachel Brady has designed the Ltd. Edition packaging.
We're releasing this is September, godwilling.

More on all that soon.

They will never find us.
We'll move behind the light
and while they chase our shadows
we will climb to the highest
peak and we will scream down
"you'll never stop us now."
The world will shake beneath us.

Every little footprint
will fade into the sand.
Every little whisper
will fade into the wind.
Cold (but never heartless)
We have become the light
we chased into the darkness.



Here comes a new album, everyone.

Hello, darling!

 For only $7, too! Here are the tracks that you get:

Hey Gravity
Posture Perfect
Plastic Sugary
The Glory of the Morning (when I met you for the second time)
Alstublieft
Cannibals and Missionaries
The Breathing Machine

    We're so excited to finally deliver this one to everyone. Apologies
if you weren't at the release show and didn't get one. We always feel
like we're making more than enough copies and we keep getting shown
how wrong we are. But alas, now everyone is welcome to it! Please tell
people you care about to get it and let us know what you think of it!

alright!

ww

 The old ship sat still in the water for so long. We never knew it
as a sailing vessel. Only as a museum, full of stories and adventures
so beautiful and hard to believe that we would walk it's decorated
halls over and over. Each time we paddled away, we looked back
at the gray old ship with the glass eyes. We cried everytime, because
you never know if you get to come back. But we always did, and
we would look and listen to the boards move with the push and
pull of waves. Our breath would catch everytime we got sweet
glimpses of Sweden, of Ellis Island, of Lucielle Ball. High above,
the commander remained at the wheel, long since the boat stood
still. Every day, a miracle. A gift.
       Then, on a Tuesday, the Commander quietly descended from
her post, stepped quietly into a new ship and quietly paddled into
the fog, and our sweet old liner slipped down below the waves for
some very well earned rest. 100 years is a long time.

A miracle. A gift.

       Goodbye, my sweet Betty. I loved you the best way I knew
how. We shared hilarious calls and letters and far too few parting
words. We both cried happy everytime we got one more chance
to spend time, and cried sad everytime it was time to go. You were
incredible, and you almost lived forever. You are due congratulations
for the most amazing life I have ever been so lucky to stand near. To
be your great grandson was a distinct honor. Today, I feel privileged
and entirely heartbroken.

Elizabeth  Stoltz (1908-2008)

**thank you, you who held me upright today. What a hard
experience. I doubt I would've navigated today at all, if
it weren't for such help. Thank you, forever and ever.**

 Hello, shadow faun.

  I am alllllllllllllllllmost home.

           Yes, I quit writing for a bit. To be honest, every other day,
I start to update this blog, and I go out of control and then I fall
asleep. I'd resist sleep, but sleep has spent so much time resisting
me that I just can't pass up on it when it rears it's head.

         last night, in philadelphia, we were doing our rock and roll
show. We had a big, full room of people in front of us, but I usually
look at Dylan for most of the set. Mostly because he looks like
McCauley Culkin. Or however you spell his name. Anyways, for
whatever reason, I played most of the first two songs not really
looking at anything, mostly with my eyes closed (until time to
sing during the second song). It might seem weird, but after
you play a show 30+ times, you are free enough to sort of let
your mind play. It's not that you aren't engaged in the moment,
it's just that you can expand on the experience. At least, that's
how it is for me.

     I thought of an evening I haven't told you about yet. When
we were in Emporia, Kansas. That's the city where Daniel
grew up. That night, we played to the young and old of a small
town that doesn't get shows. People poured out and seemed so
proud, not just of Daniel, but that one of them was doing
something like we do, but that remained attached to their home,
which they also seemed quite proud of. It was that experience
that showed me, really, that what we're doing here is really
special. It's such an extraordinary experience to go out and be
an ambassador of your home. The things that you do and see
aren't just yours, but if you are lucky, you can spread the experience
to everyone who wants it, and you can make it possible for others
to take ownership of these successes and adventures.

        I have been very lucky these last 6 weeks to share my adventure
in both public and private ways. Writing blogs and letters, taking
scores of pictures and meeting a billion new people has been such a
riot. It always makes me very proud to say where I'm from, and know
that there are people on the other end of these things that I type reading
and processing and enjoying them, even if sometimes it's only a few.
I've met  people at almost every show who have been enjoying my
stories, and that is very humbling. I feel super lucky to have had your
attention during this mammoth endeavor, lucky to have seen and done
so much strange and wonderful stuff, and the most lucky to have had
the opportunity to travel with such an amazing outfit of musicians and
people. Daniel said that the Emporia show was one of the greatest
moments of his whole life. You don't get to be a part of moments
like that with your friends very often. I feel so lucky.

        I apologize for the lapse in posts. To be totally honest, trying to
report everything, at a point, became very overwhelming. To have
played so many shows without any stop in motion gets very blurry
and can make you very crazy. I promise that when we tour in the
fall, I will be mentally prepared for the long haul, and I will be
religious about regular posting as much as I can.

       To you who kept my mind on the road during the blurriest
parts, you're wonderful. That's all.

       The parts that have happened during  my lapse in posting were,
just as the rest of the trip, surreal and funny. We saw fist fights in
Minneapolis. I even got to meet the creators of Yacht Rock, one
of my favorite online comedies, in Mpls. I ate my weight in great
hot dogs while we were in Chicago. We saw wonderful old
friends in almost every city. I even saw Justin Powers!

        Also, fuck Madison. I'm sure it's a great city, but it really took
a lot out of me. We fought a storm to get there, but things were
looking alright, so I decided to take a nap in the van. When I came
to, there were flood waters rising all around me. They weren't up
to door level yet (but almost) so I got my personal things and
climbed from the door to the bumper. The water was about
knee-high. From the bumper, I thought I would jump to the
sidewalk, but the sidewalk was too far. It was really the thing
of nightmares. You might not know this about me, but in all (and
I mean 100%) of my dreams, the world is partly submerged in
water....but I've never been in a real-life situation like that. I was
standing on the bumper, but too far to jump. Then I thought I
could use a lamp-post, so I jumped for it.

           It was at that point I really thought about my life. I thought
about, oddly enough, Eric Wilson. He used to play bass for Senryu. I
thought about how he's married. He has a really good, regular job. In
most cases, when I look at my life, I compare it to people my age who
have nice, regular things. I thought about college, and how even though
my path was shifty, I knew it wouldn't be long before I too would be
in a nice, regular life. It wasn't long ago at all that I was having a lovely
little conversation about how most 28 year old men wear polo shirts
and have cellphones strapped to their belts and stuff like that. Young
adults on a traditional path towards marriage, owning a house, playing
golf, retiring, fishing, aging and dying. Nice, regular things.

           So, instead, I'm dangling from a lamp-post over the
flooded streets of Madison, Wisconsin in a white-hot panic.
I have a backpack that is heavy with letters, a huge bag of glitter,
a tiny model of a closet, one sparkly shoe, 4 cans of det coke,
and copies of books about cross-dressing, russia, henry miller,
and an idiots guide to french. I am swinging from a  lamp, thinking
about my life, and I am absolutely sure that I can hurl myself to
the dry.

          I am close, but wrong.

          Up to the knee in water, I decided to take a walk to get my
adrenaline back down. It feels like a dark hour, but somehow I
find myself engaged in a perfectly-timed call from home that has
me both relaxing and laughing. Afterwards, soaking wet all the
way up to my knees, I decide to go back to the venue and try to
collect myself backstage before showtime. I made a drip-cloth,
took off my ruined shoes and disgusting socks and decide to sit
and just get back in the zone. I am jarred by a dude asking me for
a bottle opener. "I don't really drink enough to own a bottle opener."
 He says "Oh, that's cool. Watch this" and he stands so close to me
that he is almost straddling one of my legs. I do not know this guy.
He proceeds to put the bottle in his mouth, pull it downward with
such force that his head starts shaking, and then, in a very special
moment, the cap flies off and beer goes all over my already soaked
feet.

     He smiles and says "hey! I didn't even chip a tooth!"

     I know what you're thinking, and you're right. At least the
midwest didn't fart in my face. For that, I am thankful.

    It was pointed out to me after the fact that in my darkest hour,
I used the word "ballsack" without really thinking about it. I'm
glad to know that particular word is in my auto-vocab. Thanks
for pointing that out.

    So, I was thinking on this trip while we were playing the first
few songs in Philadelphia. Thinking about all of the madness and
magic and the furious pace. It has been so fast and surreal and
amazing. Then, I realize that the audience in the room with us is
not the whole audience. We were playing in front of some big
windows, and Dylan and I realized that the whole wall of windows
next to the stage was full of little chinese kids, probably between 3-6
years old. Some are dancing. Some have their hands and faces
pressed against the glass and their eyes and mouths wide with
wonder. I moved the little shoe that I keep on my bass amp over
to the window sill and some of them try to reach through the glass
and grab it. For the next few songs, Dylan and I lead them in clapping
to the rhythm and we all wave back and forth. Then as quick as they
appeared, they all ran away. As if living weeks and weeks in a van
and playing music every night isn't surreal enough, little things like
that are very hard to beat. It was a moment that will be burning into
my memory forever. So tiny and special. Brief and perfect. I wouldn't
trade the chance at 1 moment like that for all the regular things in the
world.

    Tonight, with the sun setting in our faces, we played in Brooklyn
to an audience of fellow musicians, relatives, great friends, and admirers.
Behind us, there were people in little boats in the water and there was
an entire other audience perched on a bridge like seagulls. It was so
nice. It really felt like the end of the tour, to me. A reward. Dragging
our way across deserts and through terrible storms suddenly falls away,
all of the backpain and the tour fever falls away, and all that's left is
that we made it all the way around. We've kept our eyes forward,
laughed as hard and as frequently as possible, really enjoyed each
other's support and admiration, and stayed on task. We've been
late to almost every event, but we have crossed the finish line on
time and played our best in every city. Tonight's show in Brooklyn,
with 360-degrees of audience and the city stretching up over our
heads, felt like a real celebration.

      We've got a show tonight at Piano's in Manhattan. This is to be
one of biggest shows of the tour, and it's one that we've been looking
forward to since we left. We will have a small choir and a string section
to play with us. There will be gift-bags for the audience. It's really going
to be a serious night. To mentally prepare, I'm going to be spending the
day looking for treasure and eating my weight in some highly-
recommended pizza.

      The day after tomorrow, I will ride into Asheville (how? I'm not
sure yet) and rendezvous with a couple of angels. It's a finish line
that I've had one eye on for the last....gosh, I can't even remember
when this adventure started. I have thoroughly enjoyed myself and
am anxious to collapse into some arms at the end.

Two more shows.

Tired. Satisfied. and yours.

ww

p.s. when we were in Denver, this dialogue took place:

wylie: I'm going to go do an idiot check, A.K.K. a "wylie check"
me: Did you just say "AKK" instead of "AKA" on accident?
wylie: .....

pure magic. poetry. It was amazing, AKK hilarious.

 Hello Easter Bunny.
 
         It happens everytime I go on a longer tour. There comes a point
where I hit a wild wall of tour fever. That's where you get really disconnected
and don't really know where you are or what day it is. It's really a lot worse
than it reads, now that I type it. The point is, I haven't updated the blog in a
little bit, and I'm really sorry. Here's what you missed:

Pacific Coast: our last day on the left side.

        I'M NOT FUCKING BLOGGING ABOUT THE LAST TWO
DAYS. And I'll tell you why. Perhaps you remember our stop in Alabama,
when I got my FACE FARTED ON. Well, maybe like me, you thought to
yourself "that's unbelievable. Once in a lifetime."

Wrong.

        On our last TWO DAYS on the West Coast, I got my face farted in
twice. Once by my bandmate, I will not name his name, and I will not name
his instrument, and I will not name that his instrument is played with a bow,
and I will not say that his name rhymes with Gamiel Gart. I am REQUIRED
by show-format to kneel down behind him at the end of the show.

         Then, we go to fucking Los Angeles. And I'm minding my own business,
sitting on the stoop of a building. Then, this nasty old  chinese man walks out
of the door, nods to me and says hello...

 ... and then takes a step, reaches back and OPENS HIS ASS WITH HIS
HAND and OPENS HIS ASS and farts, literally, inches from my face and
never looks back.

       Yeah, we had shows on these days and saw a bunch of shit that I could
talk about, but you know what? Fuck that. Two days. Two face farts. These
days are dead to me.

Utah: Utah, kin to me?

        We played two engagements in Utah with a great band called Kid
Theodore. Unfortunately, while in Utah, I was completely off rhythm and
eat-up with tour fever, and I didn't really talk to them. I will say this about
Utah:

1. We got to see our friend Erin Binkley, who we have all been friends with
for years, and it was awesome.
2. I bought chocolate from a chocolateria run by midgets.
3. Mormons, no offense, are absolutely creepy. Fascinating. Creepy.

        Utah is a really strange, beautiful place. I've never been to a country
dominated by any faith other than regular old Christianity, and it was really
quite interesting. I passed on the tour of the Temple, but Dylan says that
there is a big staircase that leads up to a giant statue to jesus in outerspace
that speaks as many languages as C3PO. Outerspace Mormon Jesus even
speaks ESPIRANTO! WHICH NOBODY SPEAKS! Thanks, Outerspace
Jesus! 
            The shows in Utah went very well and it was great to visit with familiar
faces that we don't often see. I am glad to be pointed East.

     I'm particularly looking forward to Pittsburgh. I hear they have quite a
magical "Killed In Action" memorial! Here I  come!

            I'm writing this from Central time! And looking forward to the next
string of shows. I'll catch up on the rest of the missing days tonight.

Hello, my shadow fawn.

Portland, Or:


 I see why people flock to Oregon. I really do. Aside from the majority
of the state being absolutely breathtaking, Portland is a really fucking
nice city. The people there are nice, it's pretty, and there is stuff going
on. Our stay was brief (it felt powerfully brief, to be honest), but I was
not at all disappointed by my first steps in the city that swallows America's
hipster youth.

   We were, as we have been, running quite late. Because of more insomia,
I spent the long, long drive from San Francisco fading in and out of sleep,
dreaming of letters and their author. I snapped out of sleep to discover
that Van Go (our van) was weaving it's way through Portland. I finally
got here. One look out the window, and your are completely blown
away by the sheer number of hipsters. Hipsters of all flavor. They really,
truly do all come to Portland.

    The Towne Lounge used to be a mausoleum, or so that's what we
were told when we arrived. It does look like it, but that seems really
odd. I liked the room a whole lot. The stage was set back into the
wall and the audience sits really wide, so no seat is too far away
from "where the action is."

    I wish there was more I could say about our stop in Portland. I
was feeling starkly van-crazy, which we all were, so most of my
trip was spent discussing Oregon Trail and getting my head screwed
back on straight. We played our set very well and we enjoyed the
bands that we played with. We had a big audience and they were
all very sweet to us.

    We spent the night with a great couple of Daniel's friends (who
babysit for Stephen Malkmus...weird, right?). While their floor
was extremely hard on my back, their apartment was absolutely
facsinating...full of their artwork and looking out over Portland
and the beautiful surrounding forest. It was lovely and surreal.

      I think the reason I haven't much to say for Portland is because
the next night, we were opening for one of my songwriting heroes,
Rose Melberg (the softies, tiger trap) and my mind was already
there.

     Next time, I'm all yours, Portland.

Seattle, Wa:

     When we set out on this tour, there were a few stops that I
just could not get out of my mind. The biggest one of all was
Seattle, where we would get to play in-between one of the
best new acts and on of the all-time great songwriters, in my
opinion. We were scheduled to play Mars Bar with Husbands
Love Your Wives and Rose fucking Melberg.



      All three acts got to Mars Bar at the same time, which is both
unusual and extremely nice.

       After getting acquainted with Rose and Jamie (the primary
member of Husbands Love Your Wives), it was decided that
I would sing harmonies......WITH ROSE......on the only
Softies (one of my absolute, all-time favorite bands) song
of the evening.

     We would sing one of my favorites, "Holiday in Rhode Island.

      Perhaps one of the greatest moments of my musical experience
came, as Rose Melberg and I googled her lyrics to help us
remember. There's something truly special about sitting with
a songwriter you've loved and that you respect and googling
them when they are sitting with you. Dreamlike.



        The set opened up with a stirring, haunting set by my friend,
the stirring and haunting Husbands Love Your Wives (aka Jamie
Spiess). I love this project so much. So much, in fact, that I am
going to go on a West coast tour with them this fall. Jamie's songs
and set have a delicate, almost hypnotic quality. Her show is
absolutely simple, and because of that, it's easy to get lost in
every nuance.


        Then, it was our turn to do what we do every night. And we did!
In fact, at this show, Wylie and I each had a slightly-raised platform to
stand on at each side of the stage, which I think looked pretty neat.
There are no pictures of our performance because I was playing and
couldn't have pulled it off. and because everyone knows what we
look like by now.



        Rose brought her friend, Larissa, with her to sing the harmonies
that her music has always been known for. The set of songs we
got to see was mostly covers and new ones, put together with majority
songs from "Cast Away The Clouds" which is Rose's heartbreaking
solo album, which you should get now. There, of course, the set also
included the Softies cover that I helped pick out.

       From the moment she began, everyone in the place was absolutely
still. You could hear a pin drop, which is saying a lot, considering
that The Mars Bar is pretty rowdy all the time.

       Singing a song with Rose Melberg was one of the coolest
musical moments of my life. So cool. I was caught between
being a performer and a member of the audience. It was just
as strange to hear a male voice on a Softies song as it was to
realize that the voice was mine. Sometimes my life is really cool.
Other times, it's so, so much better. This was one of those times.

       I got to hang out with Rose for a while.  We laughed together
about our "fake bands" from childhood. It was great. What a night.

       Being in the van for so many long drives, I'm starting to go
more than a little crazy. I love my bandmates. I can't imagine
being on such a long tour with anyone but them. They are the
most talented and hilarious people you could ever tour with.
 That said, when I was asked by a couple of Seattle's finest if
I'd be interested in a midnight tour of the city that included free
french food, I had to think about it for exactly no time.

You are fucking right I'm interested.

      I love my bandmates, but sometimes you have to get the
fuck away. My hosts took me out for late French food, a trip
to a haunted school, the site of Jamie Spiess losing her
virginity (hilarious), and a coin operated peepshow called
"The Lusty Lady."  

   For a moment, I found myself laughing, running through
the empty streets of Seattle. When I caught myself, of
course, the moment was gone and I was processing. There
for a second, though, I was really in it. Those moments are
rare and really special. To be completely free of thought and
in the moment..awesome.

Somewhere in Seattle, there's a 3rd-shift stripper falling
asleep on the job. For $1 you can watch her fall asleep
for 2min.

  I got dropped off at the address that Daniel gave me, and
I fell asleep very quickly in the pitch black, full of my sleeping
road warriors.

I woke a few hours later to my usual 9am rendezvous, with a
tiny model closet next to me. On my way out the door to find
a quiet place to sit, I noticed the view from our temporary
home..



Not bad, Seattle. Not bad at all.


time to recharge, little.

ww

p.s. I write this from Los Angeles, where I have been up for most of
two days, so please enjoy any typos I may have left for you. It took
me 3 tries to type the word "crazy." I kept typing "shavey." Wife??!!