CONQUISTADORS TOUR DAY 20
In the morning I go for a walk up and down Main Street in Lafayette, Indiana. It's sunny and I think about the start of the tour: heavy snow falling when I left Ithaca, ice on the ground when I got to Montreal. I think maybe I have never travelled across seasons like this before. It's Sunday and people are out for brunch or coffee in the handful of open places. There are also a couple of antique shops, some bars, a bunch of unrented storefronts and some "community services" spots.
In this and other towns in the midwest, and on the radio, I have seen and heard public service announcements that April is "Prevention of Child Cruelty Month". How nice battered kids get a whole thirty days. I wonder if agitating against war counts as "prevention of child cruelty". What about scaling down the war on clean air, soil and water?
I pack up my gear and linger in Lafayette for a bit in a nice coffeeshop that charges 75¢ for a ginormous styrofoam bucket of brewed iced tea. Refills are 25¢. What? I get on the road to Dayton and listen to my newly-acquired copy of the 1975 album "For the Whole World to See" by short-lived Detroit band Death. Holy shit it is so good.
An aside, a pet peeve: your band does not "kill". It does not "melt faces". It is not "crushing". It does not "destroy" or "murder" or "slay" or even "tear the roof off" or anything like that. Let the critics and fans say that about your band if and when you manage it. And now I'm saying it about Death: Death fucking KILLS.
In Dayton I meet up in the Oregon district with Brandon Hawk, a local performer who also organizes shows. How I ended up booking a show in Dayton is one of the nicest stories I have to tell about this tour. Weeks before I hit the road I still had a couple of dates open and that's no fun. I sent a message to Brett Nagafuchi, drummer with the Dayton band Kuan. We met when we shared a bill in Ithaca last September. They blew me away then and I hoped our paths would cross again. Within days I was on the phone with Brett, who was sharing contact info and ideas about various places to play across the Midwest. Another day went by and the Dayton show was set up with Brandon, before I even talked to him! That's some Midwest hospitality, friends.
The Oregon district is not very big, but has a couple of bars and restaurants and shops. It is a little hopping when I arrive at Blind Bob's, the venue where Brandon organized tonight's show. A lot of twenty-somethings hanging out on the outdoor terrace. There are four acts tonight, and the music doesn't start until around ten, so plenty of time to get food, unpack gear, hang out. I am realizing that hanging out is dangerous on tour. It makes me so sleepy. As long as I'm doing something, anything, I don't feel the slightest bit tired. But I'm not on tour to relax.
Two Suns, a local noise duo, play first. Josh plays and processes sounds with a laptop and 'kaoss' pad, deep, ominous loops and sustained chords. Over this Eli floats and interjects, playing pitched and unpitched percussion, guitar, wood flute, switching between them almost manically. Since the club serves food, some people are still eating and I am surprised by the attention the duo gets, but they get it. I only catch a little of the second act, who play on the terrace while I set up onstage. It's very pretty violin and accordion music and they do play one of the themes from the film Amelie. There's a big crowd and folks love it. They also dig the set after mine, a singer-songwriter who impresses me with the independence of his Hendrix-inspired guitar accompaniament (no effects pedals!) and voice.
I'm down with this kind of programming, it's how I listen to music at home. Presumably others do, too, because the crowd digs my set. I like to work hard when I make music, and I work harder tonight than I have all tour, and even though I only have one more show left, I want this to be my starting point. Again, I go through a big p.a. and again, it feels good. This space is even bigger than the Black Sparrow in Lafayette, and it has a raised stage, and lights. The gear looks good up on the stage and I'm full of energy. I do Conquistadors without amplification and play and shout as loud as I can. The rest of the set comes out thunderous through the p.a. There is no vocal monitor: I've been tripped up by this in the past, but now I know the set well enough that it's fine: I can feel where my voice sits with the Farfisa, and it all works. I let the saxophone solo at the end of the set run forever and it feels great. I have this strange impression that the less people are familiar with the "conventional" context for extended technique free improv, the more they appreciate it. I'm learning to trust the way a crowd shows its appreciation, and if they shout and whistle when I play something that, in other contexts, folks normally listen to quietly and intently, it's sincere here.
SET LIST4/10
Conquistadors
Rocket Ships
A Bloodletting
What We Have
Strange Lands
Fear / Caldicott
The Love Story
In this and other towns in the midwest, and on the radio, I have seen and heard public service announcements that April is "Prevention of Child Cruelty Month". How nice battered kids get a whole thirty days. I wonder if agitating against war counts as "prevention of child cruelty". What about scaling down the war on clean air, soil and water?
I pack up my gear and linger in Lafayette for a bit in a nice coffeeshop that charges 75¢ for a ginormous styrofoam bucket of brewed iced tea. Refills are 25¢. What? I get on the road to Dayton and listen to my newly-acquired copy of the 1975 album "For the Whole World to See" by short-lived Detroit band Death. Holy shit it is so good.
An aside, a pet peeve: your band does not "kill". It does not "melt faces". It is not "crushing". It does not "destroy" or "murder" or "slay" or even "tear the roof off" or anything like that. Let the critics and fans say that about your band if and when you manage it. And now I'm saying it about Death: Death fucking KILLS.
In Dayton I meet up in the Oregon district with Brandon Hawk, a local performer who also organizes shows. How I ended up booking a show in Dayton is one of the nicest stories I have to tell about this tour. Weeks before I hit the road I still had a couple of dates open and that's no fun. I sent a message to Brett Nagafuchi, drummer with the Dayton band Kuan. We met when we shared a bill in Ithaca last September. They blew me away then and I hoped our paths would cross again. Within days I was on the phone with Brett, who was sharing contact info and ideas about various places to play across the Midwest. Another day went by and the Dayton show was set up with Brandon, before I even talked to him! That's some Midwest hospitality, friends.
The Oregon district is not very big, but has a couple of bars and restaurants and shops. It is a little hopping when I arrive at Blind Bob's, the venue where Brandon organized tonight's show. A lot of twenty-somethings hanging out on the outdoor terrace. There are four acts tonight, and the music doesn't start until around ten, so plenty of time to get food, unpack gear, hang out. I am realizing that hanging out is dangerous on tour. It makes me so sleepy. As long as I'm doing something, anything, I don't feel the slightest bit tired. But I'm not on tour to relax.
Two Suns, a local noise duo, play first. Josh plays and processes sounds with a laptop and 'kaoss' pad, deep, ominous loops and sustained chords. Over this Eli floats and interjects, playing pitched and unpitched percussion, guitar, wood flute, switching between them almost manically. Since the club serves food, some people are still eating and I am surprised by the attention the duo gets, but they get it. I only catch a little of the second act, who play on the terrace while I set up onstage. It's very pretty violin and accordion music and they do play one of the themes from the film Amelie. There's a big crowd and folks love it. They also dig the set after mine, a singer-songwriter who impresses me with the independence of his Hendrix-inspired guitar accompaniament (no effects pedals!) and voice.
I'm down with this kind of programming, it's how I listen to music at home. Presumably others do, too, because the crowd digs my set. I like to work hard when I make music, and I work harder tonight than I have all tour, and even though I only have one more show left, I want this to be my starting point. Again, I go through a big p.a. and again, it feels good. This space is even bigger than the Black Sparrow in Lafayette, and it has a raised stage, and lights. The gear looks good up on the stage and I'm full of energy. I do Conquistadors without amplification and play and shout as loud as I can. The rest of the set comes out thunderous through the p.a. There is no vocal monitor: I've been tripped up by this in the past, but now I know the set well enough that it's fine: I can feel where my voice sits with the Farfisa, and it all works. I let the saxophone solo at the end of the set run forever and it feels great. I have this strange impression that the less people are familiar with the "conventional" context for extended technique free improv, the more they appreciate it. I'm learning to trust the way a crowd shows its appreciation, and if they shout and whistle when I play something that, in other contexts, folks normally listen to quietly and intently, it's sincere here.
SET LIST4/10
Conquistadors
Rocket Ships
A Bloodletting
What We Have
Strange Lands
Fear / Caldicott
The Love Story
Labels: children, Conquistadors, music, travel
posted by Keir at 4:30 PM
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