I'm on a little holiday in Las Vegas and I was called up on stage at the Penn & Teller show to assist with a trick.
According to Penn I did a great job, so I guess I'm adding "magicians assistant" to the resume.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
8/18/12
I'm late with this one...
Hickoids at Rudyard's in Houston with the Poor Dumb Bastards and El Pathos. All the gear goes up and then back down the stairs. I counted 21 of them. Thankfully I was using the Bastards bass rig! I guess it's better than playing out in San Fransisco where it would be gear up and down stairs every day of the week.
Saturday wasn't quite as wild with drunken stupidity as Friday, but it was a hell of a good time. Hickoids played the middle slot and we really got the crowd worked up. Davy did NOT try to kill anyone with his guitar this time. There was no need...
At some point Smitty asked it he was using the same microphone as Byron, then he stuck it down the front AND the back of his pants and rubbed in the Smitty stank real good. Byron, you are welcome.
Breakdown
You only get one free beer, lame, but folks were kind to me. I ended up sleeping most of the way home.
Hickoids at Rudyard's in Houston with the Poor Dumb Bastards and El Pathos. All the gear goes up and then back down the stairs. I counted 21 of them. Thankfully I was using the Bastards bass rig! I guess it's better than playing out in San Fransisco where it would be gear up and down stairs every day of the week.
Saturday wasn't quite as wild with drunken stupidity as Friday, but it was a hell of a good time. Hickoids played the middle slot and we really got the crowd worked up. Davy did NOT try to kill anyone with his guitar this time. There was no need...
At some point Smitty asked it he was using the same microphone as Byron, then he stuck it down the front AND the back of his pants and rubbed in the Smitty stank real good. Byron, you are welcome.
Breakdown
You only get one free beer, lame, but folks were kind to me. I ended up sleeping most of the way home.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
8/18/12
Hickoids at the White Horse. This is the second time I've played here and I like it even more than the first. It's the kind of place where they want everyone to have a good time so they can have a good time. You know, like it's a really good bar.
The Poor Dumb Bastards opened up for us and we are gonna open for them tomorrow at Rudyard's in Houston. I haven't see that bunch of fools since last years ACL. It was good to hear classics like "cum drunk" again. Byron didn't do a duct tape mask this time, I'm guessing it's ruining his looks or something...
The Hickoids set was something else. Loads of drunken stupidity. Early on David Nobody got up and sang part of a chorus on the mic. Then three other Hickoid fan/idiots wanted in on the action and they kept jumping up on stage again and again. It was like some lady told a bunch of fifth graders they could touch her boobs. These boys couldn't stop or help themselves.
So the set goes on and the crowd is getting tighter and drunker and we are playing really good and sounding powerful. Smitty is whipping the crowd up in to a frenzy. These four boys start turning my mic around to sing a chorus on one song and I grab it and swing it back, it's my part boys, I can do it. I sing my little part and I guess they thought they shouldn't use my mic or something, so they turned their attention to Davy. Rodger in particular.
Rodger is standing right on the stage about a foot away from Davy when he is singing. He is so drunk he keeps leaning in (he really couldn't help himself, you could see it in his eyes he NEEDED to sing). Davy is getting pissed. Near the end of the tune Davy starts swinging his guitar at Rodger and "stabbing" him with the headstock. Rodger is not getting it. The song ends and Jones starts berating him over the PA! "You don't even play guitar, motherfucker!" and so on for a couple of minutes. It was beautiful.
The best part was after that settled down there was this strangely awkward and anticipatory feeling in the room. Everyone was standing around waiting to see what else would happen. So the next tune comes and Rodger and some other dude (I have no idea what his name is, but he wasn't the guy who took off his shirt after the second song and walked around for a half hour after the show looking for it!) fall on the stage in some kind of bear hug and knock down all but two of the twenty beers sitting around. Smitty jumps on top of them and starts riding them to the end of the song. It was fucking hilarious. We played three or four more and called it a night, ending a pretty amazing set.
Breakdown
We got free beer/booze and we got paid. Hey White Horse, can we play again next week?
The Poor Dumb Bastards opened up for us and we are gonna open for them tomorrow at Rudyard's in Houston. I haven't see that bunch of fools since last years ACL. It was good to hear classics like "cum drunk" again. Byron didn't do a duct tape mask this time, I'm guessing it's ruining his looks or something...
The Hickoids set was something else. Loads of drunken stupidity. Early on David Nobody got up and sang part of a chorus on the mic. Then three other Hickoid fan/idiots wanted in on the action and they kept jumping up on stage again and again. It was like some lady told a bunch of fifth graders they could touch her boobs. These boys couldn't stop or help themselves.
So the set goes on and the crowd is getting tighter and drunker and we are playing really good and sounding powerful. Smitty is whipping the crowd up in to a frenzy. These four boys start turning my mic around to sing a chorus on one song and I grab it and swing it back, it's my part boys, I can do it. I sing my little part and I guess they thought they shouldn't use my mic or something, so they turned their attention to Davy. Rodger in particular.
Rodger is standing right on the stage about a foot away from Davy when he is singing. He is so drunk he keeps leaning in (he really couldn't help himself, you could see it in his eyes he NEEDED to sing). Davy is getting pissed. Near the end of the tune Davy starts swinging his guitar at Rodger and "stabbing" him with the headstock. Rodger is not getting it. The song ends and Jones starts berating him over the PA! "You don't even play guitar, motherfucker!" and so on for a couple of minutes. It was beautiful.
The best part was after that settled down there was this strangely awkward and anticipatory feeling in the room. Everyone was standing around waiting to see what else would happen. So the next tune comes and Rodger and some other dude (I have no idea what his name is, but he wasn't the guy who took off his shirt after the second song and walked around for a half hour after the show looking for it!) fall on the stage in some kind of bear hug and knock down all but two of the twenty beers sitting around. Smitty jumps on top of them and starts riding them to the end of the song. It was fucking hilarious. We played three or four more and called it a night, ending a pretty amazing set.
Breakdown
We got free beer/booze and we got paid. Hey White Horse, can we play again next week?
Friday, August 17, 2012
RIP Brent Grulke
Brent Grulke died the other day. There are a bunch of well written obituaries all over the web, you can find them here, here, and here and on the SXSW site. This is not an obit, I just wanted to say a little something about the passing of a really cool guy.
Every time I'd see him I knew I was in for a good story. Over the years I've heard stories about all kinds of places he'd been and about the ton of cool people he'd met. Seeing the global reaction to his death, I know he was like that with everyone, everywhere.
About a year ago I was doing my usual Sunday thing and went to the Dog and Duck. It was a little after midnight and Brent happened to be there and as usual we had some great conversations over a few pints of Guinness. He mentioned he was on a committee (or panel or board) with some folks in NYC who were involved in distributing largesse to worthy musicians. Brent said the people he nominated never made the cut because they weren't Musicians. He nominated musicians. The differences in the capitol and the lowercase m were huge to him.
Brent wasn't complaining, you could tell he really liked being involved with the program. But, he thought the capitol M musicians were going to get money from any number of other places and the lower case ones wouldn't.
Brent nominated the underdog. He wanted to help the musicians with shitty day jobs.
That was the mindset of the creative director for the largest music conference in the world. That is a rare and beautiful thing.
Every time I'd see him I knew I was in for a good story. Over the years I've heard stories about all kinds of places he'd been and about the ton of cool people he'd met. Seeing the global reaction to his death, I know he was like that with everyone, everywhere.
About a year ago I was doing my usual Sunday thing and went to the Dog and Duck. It was a little after midnight and Brent happened to be there and as usual we had some great conversations over a few pints of Guinness. He mentioned he was on a committee (or panel or board) with some folks in NYC who were involved in distributing largesse to worthy musicians. Brent said the people he nominated never made the cut because they weren't Musicians. He nominated musicians. The differences in the capitol and the lowercase m were huge to him.
Brent wasn't complaining, you could tell he really liked being involved with the program. But, he thought the capitol M musicians were going to get money from any number of other places and the lower case ones wouldn't.
Brent nominated the underdog. He wanted to help the musicians with shitty day jobs.
That was the mindset of the creative director for the largest music conference in the world. That is a rare and beautiful thing.
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