It was day two of the Corn Lovers Fiesta and the evenings festivities
were at the White Horse. The place was jammed with people most of the
night. At some points there was a line from the door to the street,
about fifty people deep. ACL really brings them in. Everyone loves that
corn.
There were five bands on the bill and a whole lot of ass kicking top to bottom. I'm not even gonna get in to specifics here, I was too busy having fun to pay too much attention to anything other than the set I had to play. And getting drunk, stoned and having as much of the aforementioned fun as was possible.
We went on at midnight and it was PACKED! Packed like it usually is for the Beaumonts, but this time they were looking at Hickoids. Our set was short and punchy. I had to ask for a little extra vocal when we did Driftwood. The little bit of monitor I had for the first few songs was fine, but when I really got to "sing" I need a little clarity. Picky son of a bitch...
When the Beaumonts went up the crowd thinned a little and the line at the front was down to nothing. Lance and I snuck out when those boys from Lubbock had around fifteen minutes left. We were attempting to beat the 2AM bar closing time cluster fuck that had been leaning down on us with an ever increasing pressure. Fail. It took twenty minutes of dodging drunken morons to get five miles down I-35. Yuck.
There were five bands on the bill and a whole lot of ass kicking top to bottom. I'm not even gonna get in to specifics here, I was too busy having fun to pay too much attention to anything other than the set I had to play. And getting drunk, stoned and having as much of the aforementioned fun as was possible.
We went on at midnight and it was PACKED! Packed like it usually is for the Beaumonts, but this time they were looking at Hickoids. Our set was short and punchy. I had to ask for a little extra vocal when we did Driftwood. The little bit of monitor I had for the first few songs was fine, but when I really got to "sing" I need a little clarity. Picky son of a bitch...
When the Beaumonts went up the crowd thinned a little and the line at the front was down to nothing. Lance and I snuck out when those boys from Lubbock had around fifteen minutes left. We were attempting to beat the 2AM bar closing time cluster fuck that had been leaning down on us with an ever increasing pressure. Fail. It took twenty minutes of dodging drunken morons to get five miles down I-35. Yuck.
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