Shortly after Valentiger wrapped things up, Scarlet Oaks played one of the best sets I’ve seen since they’ve paired with our hometown gents.  It was a little more folky and bouncy – check out their EP Canadian Dew.  Lastly, Bangups did as they do, keeping things short and simple.  Riffing and rocking into the later parts of the night.  It’s always a good time at Mulligans, though it sometimes might end in debate of whether or not Miley Cyrus’ drummer is “good.”

Apparently there had been a bomb threat in New Jersey and we weren’t even aware of such things when we were there last night.  We did notice some strange things being closed off when in Manhattan though.  Once again, Steve left for work somewhere around 9AM and we were out of his place at 10.  He had gotten a chance to burn us a disc of the audio from our show at Union Pool and we all listened to a bit of it before leaving.  It sounded pretty dandy and I can’t wait to see the final product when he puts it to film.  We also talked with his roommate a bit while taking turns in the shower.  He definitely was easy to chat with and had interesting things to say, complimenting the quality.  At one point he compared fixing the economy to having a kid on junk.  “At some point you’re going to have to chain him to the radiator.  Let him dry out,” he said.  And so some stimulating conversation got us rolling and on our way to Philadelphia.

On a more sour note, the van was parked fairly far away and it was nearly pouring rain outside.  With towels on our heads we trudged our way, block after block, carrying multiple bags to where we had left the van.  My blanket and pillow were soaked and our shoes and socks were definitely damp at this point.  Of sorts, it was a bad start to the day, but we had at least figured out how to make the GPS avoid tolls after we paid a fortune to get to New Jersey.  As a result, it swung us through Manhattan and the tunnel and into the woods and mountains of Pennsylvania.  The drive was boring but it goes more quickly now that we are expecting and accepting them.  We rolled into town to find Mike Stacey, Kehoe’s friend, at his girlfriend’s house.  We picked him up and then rolled over to his dorm at Temple where we’d be staying for the night.  The front desk took our licenses when we check in and we brought our bags up to the tiny room.  Next priority was finding some Internet, which we located in the computer lab.  Almost as it had become second nature, we were looking up record stores in Philly and making a route to deliver.  In addition, this was one of the nights on which we had not secured a show for the band.  So, we were also looking up all the open mics downtown to see how many we could hit in one night.  To add yet another layer to this mess, I’ll mention that it was the eve of Mike’s 21st birthday.

We made our way Henry Street, the “hip part of Philly,” but passed an incredible amount of murals.  I must say that some were horrendous and we later learned that it was sort of the city’s “thing.”  At any rate, the four of us decided to split up in order to cover more ground in less time.  It was still drizzling and even a bit cold outside, but we were pounding through it in the name of Valentiger.  I first met a band that was very helpful, telling me the best open mics to play and even made a phone call in attempt of getting us a radio gig that night.  After that I met another band from out of town and a number of friendly people who were excited to accept new, free music.  I stumbled across another record store on the way to my destination, finding it to have a lot of obscure, new vinyl.  However, I just couldn’t justify spending a lot of money on the road and moved on to Philadelphia Record Exchange, which had an incredible amount of used vinyl, but I just didn’t have the time to look through it all.  The owner was genuinely interested in the band and provided some insight into the current state of music in the city.  He explained most bookers for clubs had been “on strike” in a way and that more people would probably be out to see and play open mics due to the poor quality of shows.  It made us feel a lot better about our trip to the city and explained why we couldn’t quite land a show in time for the visit.

Mike met up with us after we finished the promotional aspect of the day.  We passed several doors, looking for the perfect place to dine.  Rider had been specifying all day that he needed a salad, a beer and cheesesteak.  We finally found all these things in our price range at a completely bad-ass place titled Tatooed Mom.  The inside was very vintage with awesome, beige, faux-leather bar stools with a giant back and couches strewn everywhere.  The prices were great and there were trinkets on every table including things like fake tattoos, flippy-frogs and foam gliders.  16oz cans of PBR were only $3 and we all got cheesesteaks – even Eric who dared try a veggie version.  From there, we made our way back toward Tritone where we’d play our first open mic of the night.  However, it was still early so Rider and I head across the street to Bob and Barbara’s.  I mean, how could we resist a place with a name like that.  We open the door to this place and find the walls completely covered with vintage Pabst advertisements and a huge, round and padded bar to the left.  Now, these PBR ads and signs were things that I’ve never seen before, including a whole bunch from the era where “At Popular Prices” was their slogan.  So the two of us mosey up to the bar and order the “everyday special,” which is a shot of whisky and a PBR for $5.  We met a couple of cool dudes at the bar and gave them singles while generally enjoying the slightly dirty atmosphere.

Back at Tritone, we were signed up in pairs.  Rider and I were to perform as Smith and Jones, while Kehoe and Joe were deemed Special Taste Expos.  After the house band laid down some extremely funky jams, Smith and Jones were up to play Nillson’s “Everybody’s Talkin’” and The Shins’ “Gone For Good,” featuring Rider on lead vocal.  Then we filled a little bit of time with a couple Bob Dylan songs before Kehoe and Joe came back with my electric guitar at which point they were on.  Kehoe thumped some drums while Joe sang a few songs by Spoon and Black Keys.  It was a nice change of pace from all the Valentiger material and by this time we had all bought a round of beers and we had gotten Mike started in the right direction for when he turned 21 at midnight.  However, what happened after us was one of the most intense things I have ever seen at an open mic.  A very tall man wearing a bandana, sunglasses and a trench coat cinched with a belt came up to sing with the funk band from before.  He spoke half jive, half French and then he jumped directly into riffing vocally over Sly’s “I Want To Thank You” for a good 10 minutes.  At some point in the middle I asked Joe, “Why would you even play a second song after this?  There is absolutely no way to top it.”  And boy was I wrong.  About three solos later, they ended the first jam and went almost immediately into some other popular funk song, which somehow turned into “Sex Machine” in the middle.  Things almost got boring until they went into the bridge at the singer’s request and this went on for almost 20 minutes before coming to a climatic ending.  We were singing along and may have even given him a standing ovation.  The bass players name was Cat-head.

It was time to move on to Lickety Split on the other end of Henry Street, where we’d play another opcn mic and celebrate at midnight.  Joe, Mike and Kehoe stopped at the van to share a Del Monte (vodka in a fruitcup) while Rider and I head over there to sign up.  Eventually the boys met up with us and Mike drank three out of five shots at midnight before finding his way to the bathroom.  Kehoe and I sang terrible versions of “Picture Book” and “In The City” as Smith and Jones before saving ourselves with a decent “Oh To Know” and “Leaving Town,” claiming we were covering our heroes in Michigan, Valentiger.  We did see a guy play a type of 1951 Gibson I had never seen in person before.  It was something like a J-180 and I definitely want to look it up when we get back to Grand Rapids.  By the time it was all said and done, Rider and I had challenged a very tall guy to a basketball game.  He had played Division II basketball somewhere and claimed he could murder us at 2-on-1.  We had five dollars on the line, but he somehow made his way up to play guitar and we needed to get Mike back to his dorm room and it fell through.

There really wasn’t enough room for all of us to even crash on the floor back at Temple, so we ended up in different places.  Rider and I parked the van and he decided to sleep in it.  Eric landed the roommate’s bed, who was gone, while Joe and I opted for the couches in the brightly-lit computer lab.  On the upside, there was a great view of Philly from the huge wall of windows and the two of us arranged the couches to face away from the hallway, as to avoid alarming anyone thinking there were hobos in the lab.  It had been a strange and busy day but I think Joe put it best saying, “We made the most of this city.”  And we had – especially for a Tuesday.

The band just barely made their 8th consecutive appearance at Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts.  Valentiger contacted appropriate authorities after receiving no confirmation of a day and time.  As a result, the boys narrowly an absence by filling a canceled slot, Friday at 4:30PM.  Valentiger was now making its second appearance, yet again from the City Stage, which they thoroughly enjoy.  And the crowd was large given they were not listed in the guide and a mass rain scare from newscasters.  The set was opened up with the high-energy, newer ditty “Oh, To Know” with a revised intro and from there it was full steam ahead.  The semi-famous Jam cover made it’s way into the set and the concluding note of “Man On Fire” was extended even longer than when the idea was originated during last year’s performance.  The boys were happy to represent their city once again and held true to tradition by whipping a few “Leaving Town” singles from the van window!

Valentiger made a trek in the Ford Focus Wagon to the Jeff Buckley-famous Uncommon Ground in Wrigleyville, Chicago.  Just down the road, Members of Morphine and Jeremy Lyons (whom the boys had met while on tour in Boston) was playing the Double Door.  The band had a funny feeling of things “coming together,” which somehow prompted Shirey to order a 9-dollar Bloody Mary.  It was the best he ever had.  The Rain Vodka was soaked in garlic and the actual beverage held several vegetable sticks.

Zach Blew took the stage first, projecting an incredibly soulful voice to a tight and personable audience.  And then it was Valentiger’s little piece of the pie, as they crammed a tiny floor tom converted into a kick drum into the minimal performance space.  Shirey and Kehoe were about ear-to-ear but all felt comfortable, just coming off the tour.  “Oh My God! This Weekend” and “Oh, To Know” shone for their first all-on acoustic appearance, while the classic Power Lines tunes backed them up.  Rider spotted a few patrons singing along to “Leaving Town” and then it was all over with a quick “Lament.”  Nelken then took the stage to play an incredibly pleasant set of folkish rock, including a cover of Dylan’s “You Aint Goin’ Nowhere.”  Overall, it was a great Saturday night in Chicago and the band got a chance to talk to almost everyone who attended the show.  Shirey even made a stretch down to Wrigley Field to hand out about ten singles, finding one person who’d even previously heard of Valentiger.  Morale was high for the drive to Michigan and with a little help from Burger King, it was a safe trip.  I think Kehoe is definitely annoyed by Burger King’s requirement of a fork to eat their pies.  Thanks to Rachele Eve!

We saw Mr. Stephen Niebauer off to work at Vimeo around 9AM, at which point we were all showering and leaving his place by ten.  Joe was shadowing Stephen at work so it was back down to the three of us.  We had a lot of work to do, walking to Manhattan dropping discs at record stores and handing out singles.  And, anyway, no one wants their roommate’s friends hanging around their apartment all day.  But we did chat with one frequent, a fire fighter in the city who pointed us in the direction of both a decently priced diner and J&R music.  The diner served us two eggs, four pieces of bacon, American fries, toast, small juice and bottomless coffee for around $7.  That’s a great deal in Brooklyn and we found ourselves quite enjoying the meal while finding out we were all Sheryl Crow fans.  Rider asked, “How could you hate this?”  There were a good number of people eating alone and we observed one guy perfectly cut up his waffles and then let them sit for a good 20 minutes while staring off.  The coffee wasn’t bad for a diner, but we decided then and there it was time to go.

GPS Jill has been a bit off lately, but we eventually found our way to the pedestrian crossing for the Manhattan Bridge.  There was hardly a soul on the thing, as everyone prefers the Brooklyn Bridge, but it served as peaceful sightseeing before emptying into the real mess.  Most of the tops of buildings were covered in graffiti and we also realized none of us had actually seen anyone create it in person – a really good, detailed work.  But these are the things you talk about when you spend all day, every day with a person for two weeks.  As we walked toward J&R music, we saw a taping for an upcoming television series titled something along the lines of “In The Street.”  J&R is the last independent music place in the city and it takes up about a block of stores with both upstairs and downstairs levels.  Selling everything from cameras and appliances to CD’s, movies and instruments, it took us about an hour to look through all the items before grabbing a coke and a hotdog and walking back to Brooklyn.  This time we took the more scenic Brooklyn Bridge while Rider and Kehoe randomly handed out singles to as many people as possible.

Over in Jersey we were playing at the Court Tavern in New Brunswick, where we’ve played before with our friend Adam Streicher.  However, we’d arrived a bit early, as usual, to hand out yet more discs.  I think Kehoe stayed in the van to read and avoid parking tickets while Rider went to Starbucks.  I went elsewhere to find Internet without signing up for a Starbucks card.  Of course, GPS Jill led me to a coffee place that didn’t exist anymore, but I ended up stumbling onto The Cereal Bowl on Rutgers’ campus anyhow.  This place has a wall full of cereal dispensers that you can use for whatever you might order; perhaps a bowl of milk or yogurt.  Anyhow, I simply got a coffee and posted the latest journal for Boston before it was time to head back toward The Court Tavern.  I handed out quite a few singles to students and general pedestrian bodies before arriving back at the van to partake in a conversation about posters.  To kill a bit of time we were playing s “would you rather” game on the topic of giant, signed and framed posters of bands above the living room couch in your home.  The premise is that someone will stop into your house to use the bathroom before, say, hitting a night on the town.  And they just happen to see this poster, but never really get a chance to ask you about it. Therefore, they make this assumption about you based on this huge, signed and framed poster of a band in your living room.  For example:  Would you rather have a giant Bob Marley poster or a giant Grateful Dead poster?  Oh, and they’re all signed personally to you with the message, “Keep working on your night moves.”  When it all boiled down, nothing topped ICP as the absolute worst possible item – unless it was something blatantly racist.

Finally, it was time to load into the bar, as the other bands had arrived.  Big Tall Buildings was also on tour with another band and then Streicher’s new band, Twinks, played before we closed the night.  Previously, we had played in the downstairs music venue, but we were upstairs this time due to it being Monday.  In fact, the whole show was slated before the open mic started at 10:30PM.  And we liked our spot, figuring we’d catch Streicher’s local following, as well as patrons of the open mic.  The upstairs felt right for this type of laid back show and camaraderie between bands was high.  I even got a chance to play a bunch of Replacements and even 13th Floor Elevators on the jukebox before everyone started.  Big Tall Buildings played a sort of melodic, 90’s rock slightly in the vein of Pavement, which we enjoyed.  It was their first tour and we were having flashbacks of what that was like.  They had 6 guys in an F-150 and all their equipment in the bed, covered with a tarp which was held down with 2×4’s strapped with bungee.  Congratulations guys; it only gets better – and worse!  Streicher’s band pop-rocked their way right through a set while we enjoyed free Rolling Rock and then, next thing, we were adjusting the P.A. and preparing for a set of the dirtiest Valentiger rock.  Often times we sound good in a very cramped space, allowing us to really fill the place with sound as a three piece.  I may never hear again seeing as how I had been caught in a triangle of my amp, the PA speaker and the ride cymbal.  We really cut loose for a Monday show with “Oh To Know” stealing the spotlight and “The Girl That Everyone Forgot” and “Hard To Let Me Down” tying for a close second.  Rider had a bit of a rough time playing the other band’s kit, which had a kick held in place by the bass amp in front of it, but it all felt quite natural – At least more natural than the balding, bisexual guy with dreads who had been hitting on people all night.

After our set, the open mic began with a featured band that was setting up a projector attached to a classic Nintendo Entertainment System.  It was intriguing but they were taking forever and we still needed to get back to Brooklyn to stay with Steve, who needed to work in the morning.  At most times on the tour we’re straddling several things at once, struggling to keep a balance.  But our allegiance was to Steve and we chatted with the other bands and a few people before hitting the road.  The band finally started as we left and they were playing a Cranberries cover, which we liked.  The drive back to Brooklyn went pretty quickly, but finding a spot to park took a bit longer.  Eventually we settled a ways away from Steve’s and made our way.  He and Joe were already sleeping and we pretty much went directly to bed.  However, we were rudely awakened and frightened the middle of the night by what sounded like a table saw.  It had started to rain and the skylights were automatically closing, apparently sensitive to moisture.  It made for nice sleeping afterward, but the rain would surely plague us tomorrow.

Rider and I were up and about around 10AM, when we first saw my Uncle Alan in the kitchen.  Seven hours of sleep was the perfect amount and it was beautiful outside anyhow.  Their house has a great view out to a river that dumps into the Atlantic and we chatted a bit with Alan over coffee and the view.  He then served us French toast, eggs and bacon with fresh fruit, of which we devoured every bit.  Once again, with showering completed we had a bit of time to spare and decided to make a field recording in their back yard.  Joe suggested we play “Oh My God! This Weekend” and so we did just that with Kehoe playing a container of Texmati rice and Rider on tambourine.  Attesting to the power of technology, we had that sucker filmed and available to the world in six minutes flat.  Just like yesterday at the horse ranch, it felt great to be part of a bit of nature and feel the sunshine.  But it was over soon, as we ate the rest of the chicken casserole from last night and hit the road again.  However, we most definitely did not depart without dunking a respectable amount of basketballs and receiving a to-go package of cookies and banana bread.  It’s the tour of bananas now more than ever.

Valentiger – Oh My God! This Weekend from Valentiger on Vimeo.

The drive to Brooklyn went surprisingly fast, considering we’ve learned to turn our brains off and accept the inevitable imprisonment.  We made only one bathroom break; we handed out a few singles and Kehoe took the wheel thereafter.  Due to some congestion coming in through the Bronx, we were actually 21 minutes late for load-in.  In fact, The Waylons were coming in from Boston, where we’d played with them the night before and we just happened to see the guitar player, Carl, walking into a Dunkin Donuts.  We screamed at him for a good minute before he even fathomed anyone would be yelling at him from the expressway.  While also in gridlock, I handed a CD to a guy in an adjacent car and another guy handed me a poster for Skanheads, while I returned the favor with a “Leaving Town” single.  He said he worked for Atlantic.  A few minutes later we could hear our music being “pumped” from behind us and he was signaling for a phone number.  I just yelled, “Website!” out the window and then he noticed it on the disc jacket.

When mentioning Union Pool across the country, we kept hearing from bands (especially those from NY), “Wow!  That is a great place to play.”   So, needless to say, we were excited to see the place and perform.  The soundman was waiting for us outside the backdoor with immediate loading information, which is, in my opinion, the trademark of a legitimate music venue.  So we carried our things through the tiny alleyway into the backstage area, where placed them behind the stage curtain.  The sound guy was projecting video on the wall of a late Black Sabbath concert with Ronnie James Dio, who had just died.  Other than the fact that he was now dead, it was still comical pre-show music considering the style of music billed that night.  This was the music venue half of Union Pool, which was basically just a square room, with a stage at the front and a bar on the side.  The stage was lined with old-fashioned vanity bulbs and was half-enclosed, causing the drums to really project.  It was nice to be playing a venue that pushes pre-sale tickets, but one can also pay at the box office at the public entrance.  The other side of the building is where most people enter the bar, which is a pretty standard room.  I remember hearing both Patsy Cline and James Brown overhead and the bathroom consisted of unisex stalls.  What was really quite incredible about the place is what’s between the regular bar and the music venue, which was a large outdoor area enclosed with high walls.  There was a sea of people out there sitting, chatting on the edge of a large fountain among other interesting seats and coves.  Someone said ?uestlove frequents the place and I could see why.

Our friend Stephen Niebauer, who shot and directed the video for “Leaving Town,” came out to film the show.  We toasted him with a Del Monte (fruit cup with vodka) in the car bar before we went on first at 9:30PM.  We opened with “Have It All,” to which most people filed into the room from the outdoor lounge.  From there, the half-hour set flew by through “Bosses In Their Offices,” and “The Girl That Everyone Forgot.”  “Man On Fire” and “Courses” held an unusually captive audience before we really thumped through “Oh, To Know” and closed with an almost-sloppy “Hard To Let Me Down” and “Leaving Town.”  Kehoe was using The Waylons’ bass amp head due to Bassman issues and I had taped my harmonica holder into position on account of a stripped wing nut.  Things go wrong and equipment goes bad all the time, but its just such a different story when you’re on the road with minimal resources.  But we were happy to play for such an awesome crowd at Union Pool, making good for Stephen’s footage.  Plus, it was good to see him since moving to the city to work for Vimeo.  A lot of other familiar faces also came out, including the infamous Bradford and her parents from the hometown of Rider and myself, Sparta, Michigan.

The Waylons took the stage next while we sold items and generally shook hands.  There were so many people to be meeting and we’re really taking it upon ourselves this time around to make those connections.  Because it’s fun, we want to and we need to.  I really enjoyed two of the Waylons’ newer songs “Make Me A Cowboy” and “We Are Afraid of the Wrong Things” and it is always good to see those cats whom we met several years ago playing in Manhattan.  What a great friendship gang!  We hope you can come to Michigan one day.  Lastly, No Man No Eyes played a hypnotizing set of calming melodies and striking rhythms.  I enjoyed “Frozen” and one of their newer ditties.  Everyone was especially nice and abided by the bar slogan which was depicted spoken from a drinking pigeon, “Please don’t be stupid.”

Rider continued to hand out singles while Kehoe and I wrapped up loose ends, getting paid, packing and loading equipment into the van.  Two groups of people said they came out to see Valentiger play after reading our listing in Time Out New York.  Rider also ran into someone from Hudsonville, where he works back home.  It was really an incredible and productive night, which ended relatively early for NY at 1:30AM.  But we still needed to find parking back at Stephen’s and, after all, it was Sunday and he had work the next day.  Kehoe parallel-parked the beast and we all drug our things up the narrow stairway to Stephen’s place.  We were extra courteous of his roommates, but there was no escaping the awful noise of blowing up air mattresses.  Kehoe took the large one and Joe, the small in Stephen’s room.  I had the skinny but long couch while Rider specifically requested the floor, falling asleep on his back.  He snored at first, but Kehoe and I were good to go after I whacked his feet once with my pillow.  The skylight windows were open and we fell asleep as the city plowed on through the night.

Rider and I woke up around 10:30AM in what I think was some sort of closet.  The sun was blazing in and porcelain dolls were definitely watching us.  Grandma, or as Joe calls her, Mim, was making breakfast downstairs and we all figured a good breakfast would fix us after the horrendous day we’d had yesterday.  Scrambled eggs, bacon, orange juice and delicious fried rolls brought us right back where we needed to be.  And after we all took our turns in the shower we decided to explore the horse ranch a bit.

Almost directly outside the house, people were taking riding lessons and we made our way into one of the three stables to pet a few horses.  Now, I’m not much of a fan of horses but I did enjoy seeing them up close and observing ranch operations.  It was very sunny and windy, making for a pleasant day and it was good to be out in the “country” when almost all of the tour consists of highways and cities.  Apparently, the horses really enjoy candy and we fed them those round, after-dinner peppermints out of the palms of our hands.  Joe was feeding them hay, but some other guy was bitten so I wasn’t really in the mood to lose a finger.  Now, back in the house, Mim was determined to feed us a ham dinner before we needed to leave at 3PM.  The thing was full on, featuring green bean casserole, rolls and mashed potatoes and gravy.  We probably ate more at this horse ranch than we had in the last three days and it was absolutely delicious.  But the time had come to part ways for Boston and she sent us off with a case of water, ham AND turkey sandwiches in a cooler and a bag of chips to boot.

During the nearly 4-hour drive to Boston, I had a sort of epiphany of what my life is actually like, and what we do is actually pretty crazy and complex.  Yesterday we woke up in Detroit at 4AM and drove to Cleveland to play music and sing my thoughts on the radio.  Then we just skipped town and drove to upstate New York to do the same thing in person.  Although we walked around the city, giving away music and just meeting new people, I find the show to be the weirdest part.  Performing things that we’ve created, hoping people enjoy it enough to want to hear it again.  Or telling people about personal things or ideas and assuming they would want to know.  It’s different than doing it in your hometown or once in a while for fun.  I think it’s a very hard and special thing to do without covering it up with guitar solos, effects pedals or attitude.  I think people recognize this when they hear or see us even though they might not know how or why – or even like the music.  But then after this interaction we have to jet right out of there and drive another 3+ hours to Rexford where we stay on a ranch, wake up the next day and feed horses, walking around in the sunshiny country.  Its completely nuts to squeeze that much into 24 hours and wake up somewhere completely strange, halfway across the nation, doing something you could have never guessed.  I think that’s how we like life, in a band or not.  It’s all these things, these opportunities we’re getting or are allowed for providing music across the country.  I hope, and I know we try, to give as much back.

Well, along with the good comes the bad and the last three shows had gone really well.  But we arrived at Boston’s Arts at the Armory, owned by the Middle East Club, to find the Belt Sander Racing Association having a blowout in the large performance room (see what I mean about running into things you can never expect?).  And this is fine, so our show is in a smaller room they like to call the Café; only they’ve changed their policy about noise levels since we booked the show months ago.  Somehow we had not been informed there are to be no drums or even amplifiers in this room, which would be fine for just us.  However, we invited our long-time friends The Waylons from Brooklyn to play the show and they just don’t strip down like we do.  So now we have a big issue on the verge of cancellation with a band that drove from New York to play a show we’ve vouched for.  Well, things like this have happened before and so we start calling around to local bars asking if they would like some live music for the night.  Two things are wrong with this.  The first is that we aren’t traveling with our P.A. because we weren’t expecting to use it.  The other is that any bar in Boston having a P.A. in house will already have acts booked on a Saturday night.  After about an hour of scrambling Debra, who is in charge of the situation, called the guys who run a recording studio in the basement of this place.  They were kind enough to open up their doors and host the show on their tiny, but ample stage.  It turns to be Hi-n-Dry studios, belonging to the two remaining members of Morphine and we met the saxophone player, Dana Colley, who unlocked the doors for us.  Later on, the bass player for Twinemen, Andrew Mazzone, came down to run sound for the show.

The Waylons went on first for what I’ll admit was a small crowd.  Audrey Ryan, our local support, had dropped off the show, we had texted people about possibly moving the whole thing to another bar and now we were in the basement of the Armory.  It was just a very messy situation we were making the best of and the Waylons were very understanding, looking at it as tour experience and practice for tomorrow’s show at Union Pool where we’d share the stage again.  It was nice to hear a lot of their new material in a “listening environment” and the vibe was obviously laid back without banter or a drunken bar crowd.  It was kind of like sitting in on an exclusive band practice and we had that feeling in mind when we took the stage, playing mostly new songs “Oh, To Know,” “Oh My God! This Weekend” and “Why I’m Not Great.”  Eric’s bass amp cut out and my harmonica holder fell off at one point, but it was better here than at Union Pool the next night.  In all reality, the sound was good and both of us got video of us performing in the room full of a ridiculous amount of vintage equipment including a Wurlitzer electric piano, Hammond B3, Gibson J-45, and everything else everyone seeks to find.  And it had all been sucked into one central location we stumbled upon due to an otherwise canceled show in Boston.  Its funny how these things end up working out and Andrew assured us it was better than playing Tommy Doyle’s where we’d landed a last minute gig just in case.  We were glad to have met him and he gave us a few Morphine CD’s, strongly suggesting we play at P.A.’s Lounge next time we were in town.  We sold one copy of Power Lines, gave one to Andrew, passed the money from the door to the Waylons and we were on our way with the tour.

I think the Waylons were staying in town for the night and wanted to eat at Red Bones Barbeque, for which Somerville was apparently famous.  So we made our way over there to enjoy a much-needed beer after the stressful situation we’d just resolved.  Rider even said it was more frustrating than the day before where we’d done all the driving, etcetera.  Kehoe and Joe tried the local brew, Rider got hand-cut french fries and I ordered catfingers (deep fried catfish nuggets).  All of it was delicious and Joe declared he was going to “poop a flame” after trying the atomic corn salsa Sean from the Waylons had ordered.  Finally, after texting some old school macro wieners from all of our phones to Sean, we decided it was time to head to Barrington, RI where we’d be staying with my aunt and uncle.

The drive was short relative to the last few treks and it was still fairly early, arriving before 2AM.  There was chicken casserole waiting for us along with a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies, which we plowed through before calling it a night.  We made all our Internet stops and found The Narrative was listening to our disc on the rest of their tour.  We’d left it in their windshield along with a banana.  Kehoe and Joe head down into the basement while Rider and I fell asleep upstairs while watching Napoleon Dynamite on Comedy Central.

4AM came just as early as expected and I showered in the dimmest light possible. Eric’s mom works for Paul Mitchell, so we always get to try all these nice shampoos n’ things. She even made us product care packages to go, not to mention freshly baked cinnamon rolls – props to K Kehoe. We pretty much hit the road as soon as Eric stepped out of the shower, but we first needed to get some exercise. It was decided the night before we would do as many pushups as there were hits on the video we had posted from WIDR, which turned out to be 32. We had gotten about three hours of sleep, one for every hour we had to drive to Cleveland for a radio spot on 88.3 WBWC. However, we got through all of them and the skedaddled. Rider is driving most of the days and also working on Thoreau’s “Walden” via MP3 on the GPS. Unfortunately, he somehow did NOT load the first half of the book, forcing him to start somewhere in the middle. I think he’s lost but he’s chugging through it, even with Jill chiming in with directions. There was no question of stopping for coffee as soon as the sun came up. After all, we couldn’t think or speak correctly. Things were coming out as; “It’s very human out today,” when “humid” was clearly the intended adjective.

Rider and I played WBWC two tours ago and they were very good to us. Where as last time we recorded a session for later airplay, this time around we were live on the air. We always appreciate fielding good questions and WBWC delivered with ponder-worthies like “Which part of your latest release are you most proud of?” We were all tired from lack of sleep and driving but I do believe we had some noteworthy things to say about what we do. And somehow I even slipped in a few things about singing math textbooks and shamalamadingdongs. On the musical side we performed a newer ditty “Why I’m Not Great” and my harmonica holder fell down as soon as I went to play it. During the chorus, Kehoe hoisted it back up and tightened the screw for me – what a gent and a professional! From there things went smoothly through “Leaving Town” (though awkwardly acoustic at 8AM) and “Lament” stole the show in my opinion. It was a nice opportunity to promote our show in Akron when we’re on our way home next week. A big thanks goes out to WBWC for doing their thing and doing it well. We should receive a copy of the interview and performance and hope to have it posted shortly thereafter.

Now it was another 3 hours to Rochester, NY where we would play in the evening. Our no-sleep giddiness was wearing off and fatigue was setting in. A quick fix of peanut butter and apple sandwiches cured us enough to begin the trek, but the energy wore off quickly during these lazy daylight hours. There were a lot of tolls to pay and we stopped at many a rest area. We had the idea of stopping in Buffalo to fulfill our promotional aspect of the tour, but decided to knock out the rest of the driving in one stint. There is only so much four guys can handle in 24 hours on the road. Finally arriving in Rochester, we checked in at Boulder. It’s a fairly big place that makes what we’ve deemed “serious coffee,” and also has a full bar. This kind of environment is custom fit for Valentiger in the way that we can present all sides of our band to a mass, diverse audience. This was our third time playing the establishment and we’ve always done well. Sometimes people are more open to the music when they haven’t paid a large cover and can really hear our melodies and what we have to say.

It was obviously naptime at 1:30PM, seeing that we had been up at 4AM, driven 6 hours and already played on the radio. The van was parked under a giant, shading tree that whispered Kehoe and I to sleep on a very windy afternoon. Rider and Joe decided to make promotional efforts downtown and, after a few hours, we swapped places. There was an exceptional store featuring vintage folk instruments that really made all of us a bit depressed. They housed a number of quite rare items including a 1940’s Martin that was going for over $11,000. When we walked in, though, they were talking about Elderly Music in Lansing, so; overall, I think we’ve got it pretty good in Michigan, too. Eventually, we all met up again for GPS Jill to take us on the most roundabout way to Five Guys Burgers and Fries, where they are famous for all natural, fresh ingredients. It was indeed quite delicious and we all liked how they left the skin on their French fries. Back at Boulder we had just enough time to load a few journals and photos and to update Facebook and Twitter before it was time to setup for the show.

Nick Gordon opened up the show with his strangely sultry folk tunes and it was good to meet up with him since we last shared a show in Buffalo. The place was pretty empty during the day but was filling up now as Nick began. I decided to use only the hollow-body Gibson with my amp, which mostly sticks us to an awkward volume, but tonight it felt just right. I think it’s because we’ve played this room before and people were there to listen, making us really happy to be melodious and not just “rocking.” We opened with “Lament” and hit up most of the usual songs from there, but also included “Love To Forgive,” which hadn’t yet been performed on this tour. It received a pretty good response with a three-part harmony during the chorus and even “Oh My God! This Weekend” seemed to find its place here, closing the show. An incredible amount of sales came through at this venue and people were very friendly and inquisitive. I personally thank anyone I talked to – you made a difference! It really helps when you’re trying to sell art, I guess. It’s just different than selling something people need or seek out. People might be there to just drink or because friends invited them to meet, but it’s important to know that sometimes people just need or even want to be asked. And I think the reason we’re selling items at “name-your-own-price” and setting goals to “shake hands” is based on that idea. At any rate, it was a great night and Valentiger enjoyed themselves.

Surprisingly, we made it out of there by 11:30PM and were now on our way to Rexford, New York, near Albany, where we’d be staying the night at Joe’s grandma’s house. We needed to push through over 3 more hours of driving, bringing the total to around 10 for the day, with performances in between. Boulder gave us coffee to go and it helped for about the first hour, but things got “real real” thereafter. At the first rest stop I bought a giant bouncy ball and we threw that around the parking lot for about 15 minutes before we lost it. However, it allowed us the opportunity to wake up and stretch our legs a bit. Somewhere around 2AM at the second rest stop, we encountered several characters and then made up ridiculous stories about what their lives were like. There was one lady working, mopping the floor inside while I was reading the Roy Rogers menu. She must have assumed I wanted to order and made her way over to get behind the counter. However, I didn’t really intend to order anything and walked away. We figure her to have been so angry. Now, by the time 3AM rolled around the jokes were lewd beyond belief, but it was getting us through the incredible twists and turns of upstate New York. None of us were sane people at this point, but Rider managed to pull the van into our destination: Double B Horse Ranch. To give you an idea of what kind of state we were in, I’ll tell you we were making jokes about horse ranch as a salad dressing.

Joe’s sister let us inside around 3:30AM as we dragged our bags upstairs to the bedrooms. It looked as though Joe and Kehoe were sharing a waterbed, while Rider and I were led into a different bedroom with a bed and a mattress on the floor. It looked like heaven to us, as we had been up for 24 hours. We even shrugged off the room Joe’s sister showed us next-door, titled the “fly room,” where flies apparently were constantly trapped and had been swept into a pile. There were also a few porcelain dolls giving us the willies, but it was only a matter of seconds after actually lying down that we were all sound asleep at grandma’s horse ranch.

We woke up around 11AM and began cooking with Eric’s mom. She prepared a delicious farm-fresh egg and veggie frittata while we round up English muffins, fruit, tea and pancakes. The waffle maker was destroyed, as we tried to use it without Pam. We watched a bit of Joe’s footage from the Strutt show while we all took turns in the shower and before we knew it our departure time had arrived.

We hit up about three record stores on the way to The Crofoot in Pontiac, handing out singles and shaking hands. We bothered no one on his or her computer in Starbucks. A few vintage music stores were browsed; Kehoe had his eye on a Wurlitzer electric piano, I had the itch for a tobacco Telecaster and Rider found a very unique, brown drum stool. Unfortunately, there isn’t much of a budget (or room) for vintage equipment on tour.

The Crofoot is a rather large music venue with two rooms, converted from an old factory building. The larger houses a taller stage with what I have been told is the best sound in Michigan, hosting bands like Wolfmother and The New Pornographers. The other, The Pike Room, is where bands like Fruit Bats and Valentiger play. Now, the odd thing about this event is the sheer number of bands on the bill due to a combining of two shows. I believe five acts performed, pushing the start time to 6PM with the Shout Aways from Midland opening at 6:30 and Skies Alive following at 7. Next, The Narrative from New York banged out a solid set before we performed around 8PM.

I somehow found it necessary for us to be drinking wine up on stage because it seemed like a funny, most un-rock star thing to do, obviously fitting for us. The bar officially had two mini bottles of Sutter Home white zinfandel and no wine glasses. So, we found some tape and put a plastic cup upside down, attaching another one to it, right side up on top. They ended up looking more like hourglass-shaped goblets, but it gave us and the crowd a good laugh anyhow. We tweaked our usual setlist just a bit, opening with “Oh, To Know” and never looking back. It was just “that kind of night,” a Thursday with 4 other out of town bands and a $10 cover in a large room. But it felt good. The stage was perfect, the sound was golden and we were playing for a decent crowd in a respectable venue. As lame as it might sound, one thing we’ve learned over the years is that it’s best just to be yourself in any given situation. Valentiger was Valentiger to a “T” that night and it showed. We received one of the stranger comments I’ve heard from a member of the audience. He said, “It looks like you guys play a lot of live shows.” And I proudly took that as a compliment whether it was intended to be or not, because on an eerily related note we talked about stand up comics and their deliveries all the way to Pontiac. Bad delivery WILL ruin good material. But at any rate, “Man On Fire” and “Courses” were particularly good once again and the whole set had a very fun and sloppy ending of The Jam’s “In The City” and “Hard To Let Me Down” coupled with “Leaving Town.” Someone who bought Power Lines told us “Man On Fire” was his favorite song that night, proving the slower songs we sometimes deem boring to be and important part of the set.

Overall, it felt like a very short day because it was, really. The show was early but it worked in a strange way, seeing that we needed to be up at 4AM the next morning. We are busy boys on this tour, with the goals we have in mind. We even managed time for “car bar” with former Merchaneer, Snax, and selflessly gave a granola bar to a hobo. But to take us down a notch, Kehoe, Joe and I preyed on leftovers from an earlier banquet at Crofoot. The beautiful and brightly frosted cupcakes reminded Eric of the food fight scene from Hook.

Back at Kehoe’s house it felt too early to call it a night, seeing as how it was only 11:30. Rider and Joe showered to avoid it in the morning, leaving Kehoe and I getting up earliest the next day. We absolutely murdered some pita bread and hummus Eric’s mom had bought for us and then we all tried to sleep. Joe and I ended up chatting, whispery sleepover style for about an hour before falling asleep. He was somehow drinking tea in the dark. I needed, once again, to vent my opinions on homelessness.