amarillo

every tour has at least one show that is completely, unexpectedly, awesome.

there have been a few of those on this tour, (the Harlem show is definitely up there), but the most surprising this time was Amarillo.

we had just spent two days traveling from Maryland, with a quick stop over and show in St Louis, when we arrived in Texas.

our bodies were stiff from all that sitting, and our brains were delirious.  (we came up with a brilliant plan to tour via horse and carriage next time.  we really entertained that shit for a solid several minutes.)

so, yes.  delirium.  that was our state when we rolled into the 806 in Amarillo.

we had no idea what to expect from the 806, and we were pleased to roll up onto a funky cafe in an happening part of town.  we were running super late, but our friend Toby- of Former Friends of Young Americans- was there and ready to go.  so he helped us unload our gear, and just as soon as we were set up he began his set.

the crowd was small (though perhaps not, considering it was 10pm on a Wednesday), but they were attentive and enthusiastic.  and i think any musician will tell you that it's way more fulfilling to play for a handful of receptive and interested people, than a room full of people that couldn't care less about new music.

by the time we got to the last couple of songs of our set some more faces had shown up at the bar, and they wanted us to play more, so we played more.  it was awesome.  they were awesome.

one of the guys who came to the show at the end offered to let us crash at his place down the street.  his place just happened to be a gigantic print-making studio, where he and another band mate also live and play music.

it was huge and dope and comfortable and awesome.

((Foxfire Experiment, if you happen to be reading this, thanks again for putting us up!!  you guys rock.))

there are many more stories i could tell, but i'm sick of writing now.  maybe i'll tell them some other time.  and i do need to let you know all about the madness/not-so-madness of NYC.

until the next,

s

currently listening to:  Joy Division

driving across the desert

i've always thought the nevada desert was not much to look at.  but right now, in the blue-gray swallows of dusk, it has me utterly captivated.

we're rolling along, homeward bound, after our first tour to denver.

there's a feeling i always get on my way home from tour, a kind of premature nostalgia.

i'm staring out over a barren landscape, thinking about the shows we played and the people we met.  i'm pondering all the things we've talked about doing when we get home.  red wants to brew beer, i'm going to start making my own kombucha... and wouldn't it be nice to buy some land or least move into an actual apartment, but fuck all that let's tour more!...  the desert is vast and muted as we head west with the setting sun; as la-la-landia as my thoughts, and big enough to hold them and let them run wild all at once. 

the desert is brilliant like that.  and so is dusk.  everything is just so fucking magical at dusk...

"did you know that you always bite the straw?" red interrupts my reverie.  "i do not!", then glancing over at the straw coming out of the cup; "oh shit, i guess i do."  he's asking me to stop it please, but then realizes i'm not going to, and just who cares anyway.

we drink water from a to-go cup when we're making long drives.  

this particular cup is from a mcdonalds in wyoming, and i'm not proud to say it.  i truly hate mcdonalds and everything it represents, but sometimes you need exactly what it offers-- convenience, speed, and something sorta resembling food that will at least hold you over til the next stop.  (and in our case, a cup with a straw.)

"do you think anyone ever uses these buttons?" red wonders out loud.  he looks the plastic lid over and pushes in the star-shaped button marked 'other'.  "they don't even use them", he adds.  we decide it's cool that the lids are still made with those buttons, even if no one uses them (except for us, this once. and probably kids.)

i fetch my phone from my purse and take a photo of the lid, chuckling to myself about posting it on instagram.  i ask red for a silly caption but he's not having it; "you are NOT posting a photo of a mcdonalds lid on instagram!"  i realize that he's totally right.

i put the phone away and return my gaze to the desert.

currently listening to:  Nulla Cur (this has become the only thing we listen to while driving long distances.  it's great for mind-wandering.)