April 17th – April 20th, ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Los Angeles' The Pirates Charles VS. New Orleans' Bourbon St. The judges still be swappin' stories to figure who won.
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We took flight at 7 in the A.M. Thursday, Los Angeles time, which meant we began rocking somewhere near 5:30. You see tired, in face, and hopped up on adrenaline in the LAX airport I found me mates by following the beautiful notes carrying down the hall in the direction of the nearest bar. As Tor's flute sang like a siren wailing to the curious, upturned heads of every Joe and Sally flying to Hoboken, and the thunderous boom of Harpoon Austin stirred the tempo of every tired heart, and Deetle plucked the bliss into every onlooker…
the bar remained closed.
My men played patiently in front of the lowered gate to some sports bar in LAX, damned if it took a single second too many for the liquid breakfast that awaited these thirsty sailors. We rocked old and new songs into the resonating halls, and watched curios folk peek around corners and stand stunned, like meerkat on the African planes. T'was just the beginning…
Once we landed it was a short order of business to secure the gear, and ATTACK!
We played a pre-PyrateCon party in Pirates Alley (There actually is a Pirate alley in New Orleans. Go there. It's rad.) and sold early edition copied of our to-be-released albums. Not to insult any of our Cali friends, 'cause Lord knows lots of you were there with us, but I've never seen a crowd dance, clap, rattle, and sing like the pirates that swarmed us in every direction. Cornered, we blasted song after song, acoustic and unamplified, and the signs of victory shone as ale and rum flowed like water, and voices sang like thunder! Gil, sea dog and official barkeep of The Pirates Charles, graced our presence for the entirety of the event, keeping thirsty brains drunk and thirsty gullets wet.
Much love and thanks to The Pirates Alley Café. Ye know how to treat guests.
Of course, once the gig were done, pirates know how to party, and The Pirates Charles be no exception. The next morning 3 shades o' belly-bilge and 4 shades o' hung over, we rose to blast the day away. We performed mightily for the convention floors, which would inevitably be mostly close friends and vendors. Moving back to the unexpecting public, we set out to be remembered by every eye that spied PyrateCon. We discovered, much to our amusement, that signs had apparently been posted for some time advertising out appearance at Hobnobbers. Flyers scattered the streets with mardi-gras beads and empty beer cups. It was beautiful. We gave an unannounced performance for the patrons and moved on to the gig that a'waited…
The Feast!!
T'were a feast the same as I'm captain. The feast was indeed for the senses, as a more beautiful collect pirates, sailors, buccaneers, and wenches I've ne'er seen. Rusty Cutlass warmed the crowd with some of the God's honest best pirate tunes I've heard; traditional and magnificent. Gracing our company were our dear friends, The Scarlett Harlott and Talderoy himself! The ears rang with joy, the bellies filled with eats and drink, and every voice were heard. We there delivered to Talderoy on his birthday, the dedicated New Steez album that features his ugly mug and thanks for all he's helped us accomplish. Thanks again, matey. We couldn't have done it without you, nor would we have wanted to.
After the feast we blasted The Tropical Isle, where Our Fiddley-Faced Fiddle Wench enamored the crowd and auctioneer alike. I maintain that not one man in New Orleans left without falling in love with that explosive woman. She teased fans fervently bidding for our signed copy of The Return of David Gale...
And then there was rock…
We performed at the top of our game, finally amplified, and ready to blast with joy and dance through all our most energetic material. Every pirate fortuitous enough to wait the 4 hours of durr it took to see The Pirates Charles was delivered exactly what they came for- a powerful storm of pirate rock steez dripping with joy and love of life. Thanks for the TRAYS of free drinks for be boys (and me lady).
Saturday marked Smuggler's Tavern, Hobnobbers, (much love to ye Claudia & Gwen!) and The Pirate Invasion Parade, where we marched at the front of the parade, following the parade above and beyond the call of duty. Indeed Pirates are hard to stop once ye get em goin'. We back-tracked to the Funky Pirate where the Pirate and Wench of the Year were hand picked by some of the greatest personalities in all of piracy, as yer ol' captain kept it movin on the drums.
Again, The Pirates Charles performance was delayed for hours. Many who wished to see us there missed out…big time. The bar had emptied to a calm lull, 1/3 of capacity or so. There we played one of the greatest show of our careers thus far, filling the Funky Pirate with "normals" off the street. Turns out the locals from Nawleans have a taste for pirate too! We packed the joint with people off the street as Scotty asked "How long can they keep playing?" "A bit longer…" was the reply. 20 minutes later the bartender's tune changed to "Don't let 'em stop!" A weary Scotty allowed us to play on in spite of our early call the next morning.
Thanks a thousand times to Andre, Piranha, and all the crew of The Buccaneers of Tortuga, and every organizer of PyrateCon 08. Thanks to Scarlett, to Talderoy, Captain Dave and the crew from The Southern California Pirate Coalition, and Ye Olde Tattoo Shop for helping get us and our gear out there! Thanks to every bar, pub, tavern, alehouse, inn, strip club, whorehouse, speakeasy, and brothel that touched us this weekend, and above all-
Thanks to every one of you that bought our new albums!!
Hundreds of you across America are hearing them now!
We couldn't have accomplished a fraction of what we have were it not for wonderful people, the likes of all of ye. Thanks to our sponsors at Old New Orleans Rum, and for all their help with PyrateCon08.
I've ne'er had a better time, save for on Cat Island herself…
-Cap'n Spoo Diggity