So we made our trek down to the Dewey Beach Music Conference 2007 a few weeks ago. This is one of the biggest events that every one in our band and friends alike look forward to every year. And every year we seem to cross the line further than the previous excursion. I’d like to think it would be hard to surpass a bloody digestive track but some how I think we managed to lower the bar even more this year.
We departed good ole’ Hershey PA, about 2:30pm Thursday, already and hour and a half later than planned, and made our way down to the shore. To me it is curious how we now are renting the largest passenger vehicle available with out a class "C" license, and I am still practically sitting on someone’s lap. (God bless right guard, shower to shower).
After several stops to empty teeming bladders and refill the cooler – that being a story in it’s own right, we rolled in to our condo at Dewey just in time for a dip in the hot tub (who knew what a focal point for the whole weekend that would become…moo) and a change into rock star costume so that we go hob knobbing, and drinking free beers and eat free food at the first nights party. I think that any one who as actually been part of the DBMC can vouch for all the wonderful freebees that Vicki Walls rewards her showcasing bands and Conference participants with. It is truly a class act event, and it’s at the fucking beach!!!! We saw many good friends that we hadn’t seen since the previous years, and had chance to schmooze and catch up and see a few acts. I don’t think anyone remembers the rest of that night, huh boys? There were a few mental snapshots that came back to me – Leidich passing out at The Rusty Rudder while sitting in his chair watching a band.
So Friday started out with a plan to do an acoustic set at the Lighthouse early in the afternoon – some radio thing. We sat around the condo scratching ourselves a lot. Someone scored breakfast sandwiched from Sharkey’s and we grubbed. We started drinking and wrapped up the acoustic rehearsal with the intent of getting over there. We watched Label President Mike Green pack and head over to the conference. I’m still not sure his point for being there. "Hi, I’m the President of the label!" Eventually, we arrived at The Lighthouse for the radio thingy and watched the acoustic act before us. Had a few drinks. When they finished, we moved in and got going. We had rehearsed a bit earlier in the morning but we weren’t sure what to expect. Jake didn’t know if he was playing by himself (something he’s good at), or if it was a 2 person, 3 person deal? I was fourth man out, so I was figuring I’m drinking. Next thing I know, Jake, Higgins, me and Leidich (playing an out-of-time tambourine…LOL) were wailing away through our songs. The first song was a bit rough but after that, we got into it. I thought it sounded pretty cool - very different but cool versions of our songs. Jake & Higgins really did a great job on that old Skies tune "Melting". So like, we didn’t think we were being broadcasted on the radio because the act before wasn’t. But after we ended, the fucking DJ did an announcement and a spot. Good think Jake didn’t swear between songs. Meanwhile, we had the crew haul all of our gear to that fabulous little club/pub Dogfish Head in Rehoboth (where we were playing a super, secret, surprise gig on Friday) and set it up. After the radio/acoustic thingy at The Lighthouse, we finally showed up at the Conference (and had to listen to our label President bitch about being by himself all day). Our Friday early evening priority was to go to that slamming, annual Conference party at Venus on the Half shells (which the food was ultra fucking exquisite by the way). We caught a few bands at The Bottle & Cork and a The Starboard, then around 9pm, we headed down to Rehoboth to play an actual paying gig there. Thank you Chris Lausch!!!!
So…yeah…sometime around 9pm we arrived at DFH and jarred our memories of the micro phallus they have that they call a stage. We collectively as a band are not small -at least no one would admit to it. So to say the least, we were bitching and complaining and having flash backs from the last time we were there 2 years ago – drummer-less, with Junior playing a cymbal-less drum set. "Why do we book this place, how are we going to fit, who is wearing my crouch less panties, my pussy hurts, get me a bottled water, wah…fucking wah!!! Then of all things who would guessed. It was time to play. We miraculously had a slamming set and good time to boot. We made lots of new fans and two from the night before came back for seconds. We were total rock stars and managed to recruit a few fans for our showcase at the Bottle and Cork on the next night. I’m not sure about the rest of the night…it was fuzzy I actually slept. However through out the night I could hear the frolicking of others, the flicking of lighters, and the mating call of some cryptic zoological unknown. All I can say is that I’m glad I didn’t bunk with Johnny Broderic on the deck… (I think I puked in my mouth a little just now…moo).
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday…WTF happened on Saturday??? I can’t collect a clear thought from that whole day…we started the day a bit later, obviously, feeling ragged from the previous two days of hard drinking/living. I recall Jake with a Heinekin at 10:30am and a big argument about who spooged in the hot tub. The afternoon came and it was time for the first annual DBMC Volleyball tournament. So, I watched the rest of the guys in my band beat the hell out of a bunch of Emo Poofs in skinny jeans at Beach Volley ball. No shit. They played three games in a row – straight to the finals and won. The scores were like: 12-7, 12-5, and 12-4. I was kind of sad to see the Emo kids cut them selves after losing but I guess that’s what’s in these days…they sure seemed sad. Seriously, they throttled every one - that was fun, I think. I know I was exhausted having watched them and very drunk, though I’m not sure how that happened. Oh, the Lighthouse had a free MillerLite thing going on. See? It’s slowly coming back to me. After that…Blur, blur, blur. Oh, we ate dinner with Andy Browne and I fell asleep on his couch. Seriously, the guys from The Andy Browne Trio had an afternoon bar-b-que – it rocked. Monster burgers, chicken – heated over an open flame. Good, tasty flesh. Mmmm…I’m sure if I didn’t stuff my gut there I might not have made through Saturday…errr, Sunday drinking. We arrived back at the condo to wake Jake, Cheech & Chong in order to go play a show.
Blur, blur, blur – so we arrived at the Bottle and Cork around 7:30pm I think. We loaded in on the main stage. We set up and played another stellar set, at least it felt good to me - the feed back was definitely good. I’m gonna say we rocked our faces off - then drank our faces off until some time that morning. The main stage at The Bottle & Cork is a damn big stage. The sound was awesome on stage. Jake was a bit ragged. We were worried his voice was toast. Have another Camel there, pal. After the show, there was a lot of hand-shaking, chatting, back-patting. Some women told us that she hears us on the radio out in California. Of course, we’re immediately thinking she’s got the wrong band. Then she starts singing us our song. Damn, we gotta get a hold of those bastards at ASCAP – we’re missing out on some performance royalties. Anyways, we sold a bunch of CDs & some t-shirts, gave away a ton of Free Promo CDs. Leidich found Jake’s Zippo in the parking lot of The Bottle & Cork. Jake lost it the evening before but didn’t know it.
I’m told we spent the rest of the evening at The Rusty Rudder, watching bands, socializing, hanging out. It’s a bit foggy, but at one point, there was 50-60 people hanging out with us. I’ve seen the video; it’s not glamorous or pretty. I believe we shut the Rudder down, and then stumbled back to our condo. There was a party going on there. I saw some girls hanging out on the balcony w/ Jake & Johnny Broderic. Some band was there. Tony Ryder from Wayne Super genius stopped by later.
My next real memory is of brunch and wonderful greasy eggs, bacon, sausage, and prime rib…that’s right when the hang over gets tough eat cow fat. Seems to be what the body craves. Vikki & the DBMC crew send everyone off with a FREE breakfast buffet send-off. Did I mention how awesome Vikki, her crew & the conference are? I observed Jake being solicited by some lady for something about digital downloads. I thought he was going to pass out right in front of her. Eventually we finished up, snuck out of the joint and walked back to the condo to pack.
So we pretty much got everything in that we normally do on our Dewey Beach excursions. Actually, we only slacked on the Nick’s Cheesesteaks, which is way out character for our band. We have this ongoing annual passage of right, which is to make oral love to a Philly style cheesesteak from this little hole in the wall called Nick’s. The joke is that you have to wear a condom while indulging, because you will have full frontal pants emission after tasting one of these stakes…yeah…they are that good. We drove home and Jake slept and only stopped to breathe 3 times. I am convinced this is the true inspiration for the song breath, sleep apnea. Then that was pretty much it. Obviously, I’m leaving a ton of shit out in order to protect a bunch of people but as it’s heard often – what happens in Dewey – stays in Dewey.
- Thanks to our loved-ones, who allow us to make this trip each year.
- Thanks to Johnny Broderic for everything you do for us.
- Thanks to Kent Woodburn for your friendship & support. We can’t think of anyone else we’d rather have make the trip to Dewey with us. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Thanks for being part of our family! We love ya, brother!
- Thanks to Mike Green for hanging all weekend and only going to bed early one night.
- Thanks to my band mates for making me laugh, doing some really stupid things sometimes and letting me play in this band.
- Thanks to John-John for cleaning out the hot tub each and every morning. Okay, no one really spooged in the hot tub – but John did clean that thing every morning. The filters, the chemicals – everything!
- Of course, thanks to Vikki Walls and everyone that makes DBMC happen.
Go Skies!!!
- Andy Book