The day starts off fine as we gas up and take the “legitimate” way out of Prescott and not the back-asswards way we came in the day before. Most of it is downhill and we come across a fancy-schmancy shopping center and decide to stop for some eats. Hellfiend, Thorgrimm, and I opt for some Mexican fast food (though Hellfiend and I eat salads so as to keep our trim and lithe figures) while Abominator and Bodybag head for Subway. The highlights of this place are the bathrooms though. Immaculate with not only individual stalls for pooping, but they are almost like small rooms with no spaces underneath where you can see other peoples feet or hear the sounds of straining and grunting as someone tries to pass a big brown football out of their ass. We all partook of this last bit of luxury before hitting the real open road.
The trip to Austin, Texas is a long drive and mostly through the sweltering heat of the Arizona, New Mexico, and West Texas deserts. By the time we hit Texas, it is night which alleviates some of the discomfort of the heat. But it was brutal. The SUV would constantly heat up and once it went past a certain point on the temperature gauge, the windows would roll down and the heater turned on. We stopped at this gas station in the middle of the desert and we all bought ice cream, slushies, cold water, whatever and didn’t bother eating or drinking, we just shoved them down our pants. Heaven!
I take over the last bit of driving as we head toward Austin to our friends Haily and Jayson’s house. They live about 10 minutes away from the venue and they welcome us with open arms (luckily)! We’re all tired and cranky from driving for about 24 hours straight and everyone starts to pull their bags out of the stuffed trailer. Thorgrimm notices one of the tires on the SUV has a deep gash in it. As the rest of the guys head in to catch up on some sleep, Thorgrimm and I realize there won’t be any of that for us yet. The bitch about it is that this is a brand new tire. Jayson tags along with us and points us to a tire place nearby and we spend $200 for a brand new one. Fuckin-A. Luckily it doesn’t take too long and we get back to the house in time for Thorgrimm to crash out for a bit.
I stay up and chit-chat with Haily and we eat like a dozen mini-oranges between us. I guess I needed a significant boost in my vitamin C intake. They bbq a shit ton of ribs and sausages and Haily makes this BADASS potato salad in which I shovel down my gullet. Unfortunately time is short and we all get ready to head to the venue, aptly titled “Beerland” in downtown Austin.
We get there a bit too early as the place isn’t even open yet. Usually that isn’t a problem but Austin has to be a sweltering 90-something degrees and the humidity is 100%. As soon as we step out of the SUV, we all immediately begin sweating. Holy shit, you can cut the air with a knife because of the humidity! Shane from the grind band Phobia shows up and we all start shooting the shit. Not knowing when the place will open, Hellfiend, Bodybag, Shane, and I take off to try and visit some bars in the area. We don’t get far as it looks like Beerland is opening up for business so we head back and get to work.
Beer tickets are handed out and Hellfiend, Bodybag, and I start drinking. I haven’t had Lone Star in a while so I grab some bottles and down them. Cold beer on a hot day rules.
People start showing up and filing into the venue. Overall the attendance on a non-weekend night looks promising. We meet old and new friends. Tom (from Nokturnal) and Eloisa show up who are great friends of ours. When Gravehill was out in Texas doing a short mini-tour with Hod, they came to every show! Haily and Jayson show up as well. We all take a bunch of goofy pictures with each other and of course I look like the biggest creep in all of them. I hate getting my picture taken. It’s one of the reasons I wear a helmet on stage. Another is that I’m fugly.
Birth A.D. hit the stage first and though the music is more punk/metal, they fit in well and sounded great. Plus they were funny mofos which upped them in coolness points.
Cardiac took the stage next and near the end, their bassist Dave gets his hair caught in the guitarist Tom’s axe. They have to finish out their set next to each other and it is hilarious to watch! They take it in good stride and pull off a memorable performance.
The decision was made to have Hod headline this show (and several others) since this is pretty much their territory and most people would hang out for them so Gravehill takes the stage after Cardiac.
The night goes well until it is time to pack up and leave. The original plan was to head back to Haily and Jayson’s pad, crash for a few hours, and then take off to Kansas City. Then we decided it was probably best just to get on the road. We can’t make up our mind.
Dennis from Hod, Tom from Cardiac, myself, Thorgrimm and a few others try to load up the trailer. But a chink has been thrown into the mix. Hod decided to hire a full-time driver to be behind the wheel of the van. While in theory, this isn’t a bad idea, in practice it is a fail. The trailer is full, the SUV is full, and van is full. There is no space for any extra baggage or people. So as we are packing the trailer, extra gear shows up that wasn’t in the trailer before. There just isn’t any room. Dennis gets pissed because shit just isn’t fitting right and he finally breaks and leaves the trailer packing to a few of us. I don’t blame him though. The space situation was already an issue from day one so I am exasperated by it as well. Small arguments erupt from various band members and there’s some shit-talking. Not the joking around kind of shit-talking either.
I start to see the cracks in the camaraderie I thought we all had. I tell Abominator this in private and realize one of my worst fears was coming true. The tour we had all worked and spent a shit-load of resources on was faltering.
Gravehill decides to leave the venue after the trailer is stuffed (we can barely get the door closed) and the SUV is packed to the gills. We tell Hod and Cardiac that we’ll see them in Kansas City and take off back to Haily and Jayson’s to shower up, catch a few winks, eat, and be on our merry way.
Several calls come through on Thorgrimm’s cell and Abominator’s. I don’t know the content of these conversations but I only watch as Hellfiend grabs one of the phones and talks to one person and Thorgrimm talks to another at the same time in different rooms. Bodybag, Abominator, and I try to keep things light with Haily and Jayson because we don’t want them to be involved at all with our drama so we snack and wait
.
Thorgrimm comes into the kitchen to tell us that Hod is dropping off the tour and I’m shocked. I thought, or I hoped, that whatever was happening would just smooth over and we would all be on our way to Kansas City.
Up to this point in the tour, our pay for shows was mediocre at best. Some, like Prescott, didn’t even pay enough for gas to the next gig. What money we made from merch sales went into gas tanks or food in our stomachs. There was never any money left over and apparently Hod really felt the bite. The catalyst (in my eyes at least) was the space issue and that just boiled over into the realization that financially, Hod just could not continue.
You see folks, promises of getting paid and actually getting paid are two different things. If there’s nothing in writing, no booking agent involved, etc... you kind of just have to eat the loss. Sure, you can threaten the promoter with violence, but where would that leave you? With a hundred bucks in your pocket (if you’re lucky) and a guarantee you would never play that venue again. It’s a finicky world of politics, business, and last of all music wrapped up into one. It’s fucking tough.
So Hod is gone. Gravehill heads back to the venue and we all unload gear in front of Beerland at 4:00 AM in the morning. It’s awkward. I can tell there’s bad blood already between some members of Hod and Gravehill. I get it. Words have been exchanged, egos bruised, accusations made, blah blah blah. But I will genuinely miss having the guys on the road with us. Hod is a powerhouse of killer, Texas-style, blackened-death metal and I always enjoyed watching them play. I wish them nothing but success.
There is a decision to be made though. Cancel the rest of the tour or continue on? Cardiac Arrest steps up to the plate. Between us and Chicago, there is one show and that is Kansas City, Missouri. If we can use a local backline in Kansas City, once we hit Chicago, Cardiac will pull their gear out of storage and we can finish the tour with their equipment. That fucking rocks! There is no way I want to go home and I’m ecstatic that the tour can continue. Logistically, there are problems with finishing all of the tour dates but we can figure that out later once we hit Chicago. But for now, the tour is back on track!
Cardiac and Gravehill head back to Haily and Jayson’s house, shower, nap (maybe an hour or two), eat, and haul ass out of Texas in the morning. I just want to say thank you so much Haily and Jayson for your hospitality and letting us crash at your pad! You guys rule so much. I hope it wasn’t too traumatic for you!
For every dark cloud, there is a silver lining. With Hod now gone, the trailer and van are significantly much lighter. Abominator hitches a ride with the Cardiac guys while the rest of us chill in the SUV. The room is a luxury and soothes some of the tension of the past couple of days. Kansas City would be a fresh start...if we can get there on time...
Friday, October 1, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: Buried in the nameless sands and mountains of antiquity...Prescott, Arizona
I manage to grab a goodnight’s dreamless snooze before I have to meet up with the guys at 12:00 PM on Monday. I arrive fashionably late as Thorgrimm, Abominator, and Hellfiend rearrange the equipment in the trailer. Bodybag in turn arrives even fashionably later than I do. We’re very fashionable guys!
We dump one of Bodybag’s guitar cabinets and his effects case off at the studio which frees up some room but not a lot. There’s not much else we can unload as practically all of the equipment is necessary. I thought about dumping my bass flight case off since it’s particularly large and heavy. But I don’t have another case (soft or hard) for my Moser and I’m not too keen on taking my new B.C. Rich out on the road just yet. Screw it. I’ll keep it around. It’s a handy flight case and can probably be dropped out of an airplane at 30,000 feet and land with barely a scratch. I guess that would matter more if we were flying...
Off we go to Arizona! The desert sucks though. Stupid nature. Thorgrimm starts to worry because the SUV temperature gauge rises past the normal level. We’re hauling a heavy ass trailer, with five of us in the vehicle which is also packed with stuff and up and down desert mountain roads so the SUV is really getting a workout. I mention to him that if the temperature got really high, a last ditch resort would be to turn on the heater which should pull some of the heat away from the engine. [Note: I just read an article that this particular method of cooling down an engine is minimal at best, especially with newer vehicles.] Bodybag confirms this by nodding and mumbling (he’s more mechanically inclined than the rest of us). Thorgrimm blasts the heat and we roll down the windows but the desert wind doesn’t do anything to relieve the sudden blast furnace we find ourselves in. It’s scorching but luckily the heater doesn’t stay on for long.
Our way to Prescott takes us through backwater, almost dead towns in the middle of nowhere. There are communities that look like they’ve shriveled up and are nearing death, yet they hang on to that small sliver of life. It’s almost depressing but Hellfiend suddenly kicks on some Steel Panther and we start cracking up at the lyrics to songs like “Asian Hooker” and “Death to All But Metal”. That lightens the mood a bit and diverts our attention away from crumbling Native American reservation communities and tumble-weed choked deserted villages.
Up, up, up into the mountains we go! The scenery changes from bleak desert landscape to green trees and modestly well-off mountain communities full of white people. Now this is more like it!
The area of Prescott we find ourselves in is the sleepy small town district. It seems rather active as we pull in late in the afternoon and it looks like they still have decorations up from the past weekend’s July 4th celebrations. Hod and Cardiac have been at the venue for a couple of hours and Beer from Hod is schmoozing it up with a local lady and her dog. Mostly with the local lady though.
I run and do a quick inspection of the venue. The stage is small and room for equipment, much less band members, is pretty much nil. I guess I shouldn’t be expecting any kind of large stage and top of the line sound gear at a joint called The Drunken Lass.
We unload equipment and I take a quick walk down the street to try and find a place to eat. I see a few but nothing really grabs me. Plus most of them look either too fancy, expensive or they’re just coffee shops with a small sandwich counter. I get back to the venue and Adam from Cardiac tells me about a pizza joint further up the street. Thorgrimm has the SUV so I ask Abominator, Hellfiend, and Bodybag if they want to head to this pizza place. Guess we should have waited for Thorgrimm but our stomachs were guiding us so any thought of waiting around was out of the question. While we walk, we see what we assume to be the token black family of Prescott. Fascinating. Thorgrimm eventually joins us and proceeds to curse and call us fags for leaving him behind.
There are no other bands playing tonight and it looks as if Prescott is going to be a truly dead show. No one is there except for a handful of locals who closely resemble hippies with meth problems. One older lady in shorts way too high for her age comes roaring out of the dark of the night screaming with this guy in tow. Turns out she isn’t really screaming but actually singing. She fools a lot of us. Bodybag comments to her that she has the voice of an angel. Hellfiend adds on to that and says she has the face of a Mack Truck. I probably heard this all wrong. This same lady goes around and kisses everyone on the mouth as a form of greeting people. Luckily something shiny pulled her gaze away from Abominator and me so we were spared some mouth herpes.
Hod takes to the stage first and plays to Cardiac, Gravehill, and about four locals. A couple at the bar gets into Hod and the chick keeps stroking Beer’s head and pants. I guess the husband or boyfriend doesn’t mind. Some random guy walks into the bar with a bald head and a red sports jersey on. He has a beer and stands there making these aggressive movements towards Beer and I think the guy is going to try something. I think we’re all ready to pounce on this whacked out tweeker dude if anything goes down. Luckily the douche-bag gets kicked out.
After Hod finishes their set, the couple at the bar starts to argue. The guy grabs the girl and says, “Let’s go bitch!” She responds by grabbing someone’s half-finished beer and tells him, “No, I ain’t done with my beer!”
Husband/Boyfriend: “That ain’t your beer, bitch!”
Wife/Girlfriend: “It is!”
Husband/Boyfriend: “No it ain’t! Grab your shit and let’s go bitch!”
Classy stuff my friends. Better than any reality show on television as far as I’m concerned. One of these days I aspire to end everything I say after talking to a woman with “bitch” and still have her follow me out of a local dive bar for some sexy sexy times.
Cardiac Arrest takes the “stage” next and play to...you guessed it, Hod, Gravehill, and still around the same number of locals. They shred and I grab a couple of goofy pics of Adam and Jim actin’ da fool.
By the time Gravehill’s set starts, there’s practically no one in the bar except for the Hod and Cardiac guys. We decide not to put on any armor or blood and just jam out a set like at practice. We change our name briefly to “Mortuary Mountain”. Get it? Not “Grave” “Hill” but “Mortuary” “Mountain”. Get IT?? It’s nice to let my hair out and just jam without being hindered by the helmet, armor, and spiked gauntlets. After one of our songs, Abominator sees some locals walk by outside and yells at them to get inside the bar. They walk in but I think they’re afraid to leave because of Abominator’s stern order for them to stay and watch us.
Despite the shitty turnout in Prescott, it actually morphs into a fun and interesting night. All of us were more relaxed and not as on edge. Plus it’s the second show of the tour we aren’t late for...two for two ain’t bad! The few locals that hung around were interesting and the jukebox was full of metal songs and the owner of the place let us have free reign of it. Much metal karaoke was had. The owner also tore up our entire bar tab, bought merch from each of the bands, as well as giving money for gas out of his own pocket. Very cool guy. Of course he probably feels guilty but we take what we can get!
After screwing around outside in drunken debauchery, organizing everyone to load the trailer and van is a bit of a challenge. It gets done though. Slowly, but it gets done.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Stuff White People Like
"Stuff White People Like" (I didn't write this shit, but I think it's funny.)
Rock Climbing
For much of human history, when a human being saw a mountain in front of them, their reaction was, "Damn, I wish this mountain wasn't here. Why can't someone just blow a hole through this?" One day, after many roads and tunnels had been constructed, a white person thought to himself, "You know what? I'm going to climb this, look around, then climb back down. The view from the top will be worth risking my life." And rock climbing was born.
The appeal of the sport has grown in recent years, as cities and college campuses have opened indoor rock-climbing facilities. Now urban white people can experience all the thrill of climbing up something, looking around, and then climbing back down - which is the only goal of rock climbing - without having to take a long drive. There is no gold at the top of the mountain, no secret lair, not even a snack bar. The only reward is self-satisfaction and the opportunity to say, "Dude, crazy weekend. We did the summit of {insert mountain name}. It was intense. Me and a few buddies are planning a trip to Peru to climb."
Red Hair
White people with red hair are one of the rarest types of white people that you can encounter. Their hair color was created by a northern European mutation that will likely be extinct in the next hundred years. Enjoy them while you can!
The role that red hair plays in white culture is not necessarily essential to understanding white people, but it is helpful. White people associate red hair with Irish roots, allowing redheads to constantly remind others that they have an "ethnic" heritage.
Many white women are envious of red hair and will dye or declare that they want to dye their hair some shade of red. This is because red hair is seen as both natural and less mainstream, thus giving it two very desirable properties.
Rock Climbing
For much of human history, when a human being saw a mountain in front of them, their reaction was, "Damn, I wish this mountain wasn't here. Why can't someone just blow a hole through this?" One day, after many roads and tunnels had been constructed, a white person thought to himself, "You know what? I'm going to climb this, look around, then climb back down. The view from the top will be worth risking my life." And rock climbing was born.
The appeal of the sport has grown in recent years, as cities and college campuses have opened indoor rock-climbing facilities. Now urban white people can experience all the thrill of climbing up something, looking around, and then climbing back down - which is the only goal of rock climbing - without having to take a long drive. There is no gold at the top of the mountain, no secret lair, not even a snack bar. The only reward is self-satisfaction and the opportunity to say, "Dude, crazy weekend. We did the summit of {insert mountain name}. It was intense. Me and a few buddies are planning a trip to Peru to climb."
Red Hair
White people with red hair are one of the rarest types of white people that you can encounter. Their hair color was created by a northern European mutation that will likely be extinct in the next hundred years. Enjoy them while you can!
The role that red hair plays in white culture is not necessarily essential to understanding white people, but it is helpful. White people associate red hair with Irish roots, allowing redheads to constantly remind others that they have an "ethnic" heritage.
Many white women are envious of red hair and will dye or declare that they want to dye their hair some shade of red. This is because red hair is seen as both natural and less mainstream, thus giving it two very desirable properties.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: Sour Home Los Angeles
The trip home is almost uneventful. Thorgrimm starts us off in the wee hours of the morning right after the San Francisco show and takes us on this weird, back road journey. We are following Hellfiend’s directions and I guess he wants to take us on a scenic route. Scenic routes in the dark really don’t work out too well but I imagine that the terrain is really pretty and I fade off into a weird dream. William Shatner was in it. I can’t remember that much, but fuckin’ Captain Kirk had no patience for people being late to his Social Studies class so we fought each other like in a Star Trek episode; all cheesily choreographed with the stupid music playing in the background. Ironically, I don’t think I’ve ever watched an entire episode of Star Trek all the way through.
I awake as the sun starts to rise and Thorgrimm pulls over to get gas. I take over driving duties but decide to grab some donuts before we take off. My acid reflux has been hell over the past couple of days plus my appetite is returning so I’m pretty hungry. If you have acid reflux or GERD, you shouldn’t eat quickly or bad stuff will happen. Well, I am so hungry that I just start choking down donuts and I forget all about my malady. I get in the driver’s seat, drive about 20 feet and suddenly feel the donuts start to come back up along with some tasty stomach acid. I hop out and puke for a couple of minutes while Thorgrimm, Abominator, and Hellfiend make fun of me and talk shit, “Oh, so that’s how Corpsie keeps his trim figure!” Haha. With friends like these...
I drive for a couple of hours and then Abominator takes the wheel. We pull up to Thorgrimm’s pad, I leap out, grab my stuff, get the keys to my friend’s car, and speed off to my pad for a shower, shit, and sleep. I don’t sleep for long though as I still have to wash a few clothes and get ready for the show in L.A.
Eventually I head back to Thorgrimm’s place and we all chill for a few before leaving for The Blvd.
We arrive at The Blvd apparently late (around 7-ish). There is another tour package in town so this show is a merging of the two in one location. Insidious Discrepancy, Disfigured, and another band are playing as well. Somehow and for some odd reason, Fatalist is put on the bill second (instead of in the regular tour line up that we’ve been doing) and since they are using most of our backline, it delays the show! What the hell? I just don’t get why Fatalist is going on now. So right off the bat we start hauling shit in fast so they can get set up to play.
Another disappointment of the night is the fact that locals Imminent Death had played already and it was barely after seven o’clock! I wanted to check them out but it looks like I’ll be delayed in completing that goal yet again.
By the way, East L.A. on July 4th is quite an experience. You don’t know if people are setting off fireworks or firing guns. All you hear is “pop pop pop”. Also, are those screams of people having fun or getting shot?
I hang out for Fatalist, some of Disfigured, and a little of the one man act Insidious Discrepancy. The one man acts are cool I guess. It takes some talent to put all that shit together but the music is so chaotic and artificial that it’s hard to get into. I decide to vacate the area and hang outside.
I meet with friends and talk to a number of people. Tom from Cardiac and I head next door to this hole in the wall Mexican place and have some of the best tacos in L.A. for only a buck each. Cheap, good food rules the schools!
I should mention that Cosmo Lee of invisibleoranges.com and a freelancer for other metal zine outlets is at the show. Always beside him is this brooding, large guy with a camera. Honestly, the camera looks like a prop. I bet he’d be more comfortable with some brass knuckles and a steel pipe than an expensive piece of equipment like the camera he holds. (Note: Cosmo’s review of the show can be found here: http://www.invisibleoranges.com/2010/07/death-metal-purity-tour-the-blvd/ It’s an amusing piece on hair in heavy metal...)
So this entire time I’ve been texting and calling my friend. “I need you to pick me up from the show. You’re my ride home. It’s important that you come to the show tonight. You’re on the guest list.” Oh, did I mention I lent him my car? Well, he replies early on, “Yeah, no problem.” Showtime for Gravehill creeps up and still my friend hasn’t arrived. I try to call several times and get no answer. I leave a couple of voice mails and send a few texts. We’re about to hit the stage when I finally get a text response, “Dude, I fell asleep. It’s too late now to head to the venue. Sorry!” I am furious! I want to punch something real bad. I feel my jaw muscles clench and I see shades of red flash in front of my eyes (literally). My smooth laid out plan to get home early for some rest falls apart. I try to use that negative energy and focus it in my performance but it hinders me. My mind isn’t really there and I go through the motions but I’m not into it. I’m a pretty laid back guy and slow to anger and this is the first time in a long time that I am enraged. I don’t like that feeling. I’m a happy go-lucky corpse fondler. Not an angry one!
After we play, we hang around and drink for a bit. Someone asks if I’ve seen the merch table and I remember seeing one in the back. When I come out with the table, I get a scolding from the promoter that I had his table. Turns out ours was already in the vehicle. The Corpse just can’t get a break!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: San Francisco...we almost missed you!
We all converge on a Denny’s in Portland around 9:30 AM but the restaurant is packed and we have no time to wait around. It’s decided to just head out on the road because we want to get into San Fran at a decent time.
Thorgrimm, Abominator, and I pile into the packed SUV and the rest of the guys cram into the van. From the looks of it, this trip is going to be very uncomfortable for everyone.
I sit in the front seat trying to play navigator with the GPS as Thorgrimm handles driving duties. But Portland is fucking all of us. There are so many one way streets, dead ends, and closed off streets due to July 4th festivities, that we get lost several times. It takes us over an hour just to get out of the city.
We find a Denny’s several hours outside of Portland and it’s decided that stopping to eat is the plan. Bodybag and I chill inside the Denny’s waiting for a table while everyone else is outside. Two older lovely ladies come in, sit on a bench, and immediately start hitting on us saying they love our long hair. Bodybag is immediately drawn to them because of their unwashed, oily hair and faded four-leaf clover tattoos on their wrists that should be green but have devolved into a fungal-colored abomination. But then the truth comes out that they really like Carl (the guitarist of Hod) so we let him know as the two ladies snort and giggle like horses. Carl’s not interested.
The SUV has some minor trailer trouble so we pull over at a gas station and get our resident mechanic and overall tool, Bodybag to look at the loose wheel fenders. He retools some things, tightens others, applies silicon and other crap and affirms that the fenders are secure. Good enough! We head out again.
I begin to worry because we have a serious lack of time issue. I mention it to Thorgrimm which gets him to start worrying. Thorgrimm freaking out is not fun to be around, but I figured I should bring the subject up on whether we would actually make the San Francisco gig. It takes us too long to get out of Oregon and we are just entering Northern California late in the afternoon. We still have several hundred miles to get to San Francisco and the sun is already beginning to set.
I take over driving duties in Northern California and try to make up some time once we’re out of the mountains. We hit speeds of 85-90 mph on the I-5 south which probably isn’t too wise with a driver who’s inexperienced at pulling a trailer. Fuck it; we are determined to make it.
Thorgrimm has finally found the San Francisco promoter’s number and informs him of the situation. The promoter doesn’t seem too disturbed by the situation and keeps a cool head. He tells us to keep up the speed and we’ll make it.
Neil from Fatalist is calling Thorgrimm consistently. Fatalist has been at the venue for several hours and they are freaking out that the rest of us aren’t there yet.
We arrive in San Francisco and pull up to the venue (Thee Parkside) with only minutes to spare! Another three minutes and the show would have been shut down! Fans and friends who have been waiting at the venue help us unload quickly. Fatalist sets up and starts their set within ten minutes of our arrival. We all agree to play limited sets and cut songs due the lack of time. The door and sound guys are very fucking cool. Apparently they’ve all seen Gravehill play Frisco in the past and are really looking forward to seeing us play again. They even ask if we are going to bother putting on the armor and blood because of the time crunch. We tell them that we are getting decked out no matter what and several “fuck yeahs” are heard. Or “fuck yous”. My hearing is pretty much shot.
Several friends of mine show up in San Fran and it’s cool to see them. Unfortunately I barely have any time to hang out and chat and I feel like an ass. I apologize for not hanging out more but they understand.
The transition from each band is almost flawless since we’re all using the same backline. Cardiac Arrest goes on after Fatalist and slays, then Hod immediately starts setting up. Hod delays a little because Beer has to take a shit. Luckily it seems he must have cut his poop short and wiped deep cause less than a minute later, Beer emerges from the bathroom and they proceed to rumble.
Though the crowd sports maybe only 30 people, they are die hard Hessians that love metal and purposefully stayed around to watch us play. As we rage through our shortened set, the countdown is on. 15 minutes until the power to the stage is turned off. 10 minutes...5 minutes... It looks like we have to play an even more abbreviated set. But after the countdown ends, people are yelling for one more song and the stage manager comes up and tells us to just fucking play. This rules. We jam through two more songs and end the night with a bang. The patience of the promoter and the people who work at Thee Parkside just really rocks and I’m grateful they even let us play seeing as how late we were.
The work doesn’t stop there though. I strip off my armor and immediately begin breaking my gear down and hauling it outside. I open the trailer and again, Dennis, Thorgrimm, and I start to load shit up. I’m exhausted and I finally convince someone else to take my place in the trailer so that I can catch a breather for once and give my back a rest. I begin to see a pattern though of those who are helping to load up and those not even willing to get near the trailer. I’m very aggravated about that and this is only day two of the tour. Hellfiend is aggravated himself about being cooped up in the van and so room is made for him to join Thorgrimm, Abominator, and me in the SUV. We take off immediately for Los Angeles while the van stays behind and the rest of the guys crash at a local’s pad.
Note: There was some more shit I added to this that was quite humorous but fucking "blogger" decided I was using some stupid html code and nothing was saved. Technology is awesome.
Thorgrimm, Abominator, and I pile into the packed SUV and the rest of the guys cram into the van. From the looks of it, this trip is going to be very uncomfortable for everyone.
I sit in the front seat trying to play navigator with the GPS as Thorgrimm handles driving duties. But Portland is fucking all of us. There are so many one way streets, dead ends, and closed off streets due to July 4th festivities, that we get lost several times. It takes us over an hour just to get out of the city.
We find a Denny’s several hours outside of Portland and it’s decided that stopping to eat is the plan. Bodybag and I chill inside the Denny’s waiting for a table while everyone else is outside. Two older lovely ladies come in, sit on a bench, and immediately start hitting on us saying they love our long hair. Bodybag is immediately drawn to them because of their unwashed, oily hair and faded four-leaf clover tattoos on their wrists that should be green but have devolved into a fungal-colored abomination. But then the truth comes out that they really like Carl (the guitarist of Hod) so we let him know as the two ladies snort and giggle like horses. Carl’s not interested.
The SUV has some minor trailer trouble so we pull over at a gas station and get our resident mechanic and overall tool, Bodybag to look at the loose wheel fenders. He retools some things, tightens others, applies silicon and other crap and affirms that the fenders are secure. Good enough! We head out again.
I begin to worry because we have a serious lack of time issue. I mention it to Thorgrimm which gets him to start worrying. Thorgrimm freaking out is not fun to be around, but I figured I should bring the subject up on whether we would actually make the San Francisco gig. It takes us too long to get out of Oregon and we are just entering Northern California late in the afternoon. We still have several hundred miles to get to San Francisco and the sun is already beginning to set.
I take over driving duties in Northern California and try to make up some time once we’re out of the mountains. We hit speeds of 85-90 mph on the I-5 south which probably isn’t too wise with a driver who’s inexperienced at pulling a trailer. Fuck it; we are determined to make it.
Thorgrimm has finally found the San Francisco promoter’s number and informs him of the situation. The promoter doesn’t seem too disturbed by the situation and keeps a cool head. He tells us to keep up the speed and we’ll make it.
Neil from Fatalist is calling Thorgrimm consistently. Fatalist has been at the venue for several hours and they are freaking out that the rest of us aren’t there yet.
We arrive in San Francisco and pull up to the venue (Thee Parkside) with only minutes to spare! Another three minutes and the show would have been shut down! Fans and friends who have been waiting at the venue help us unload quickly. Fatalist sets up and starts their set within ten minutes of our arrival. We all agree to play limited sets and cut songs due the lack of time. The door and sound guys are very fucking cool. Apparently they’ve all seen Gravehill play Frisco in the past and are really looking forward to seeing us play again. They even ask if we are going to bother putting on the armor and blood because of the time crunch. We tell them that we are getting decked out no matter what and several “fuck yeahs” are heard. Or “fuck yous”. My hearing is pretty much shot.
Several friends of mine show up in San Fran and it’s cool to see them. Unfortunately I barely have any time to hang out and chat and I feel like an ass. I apologize for not hanging out more but they understand.
The transition from each band is almost flawless since we’re all using the same backline. Cardiac Arrest goes on after Fatalist and slays, then Hod immediately starts setting up. Hod delays a little because Beer has to take a shit. Luckily it seems he must have cut his poop short and wiped deep cause less than a minute later, Beer emerges from the bathroom and they proceed to rumble.
Though the crowd sports maybe only 30 people, they are die hard Hessians that love metal and purposefully stayed around to watch us play. As we rage through our shortened set, the countdown is on. 15 minutes until the power to the stage is turned off. 10 minutes...5 minutes... It looks like we have to play an even more abbreviated set. But after the countdown ends, people are yelling for one more song and the stage manager comes up and tells us to just fucking play. This rules. We jam through two more songs and end the night with a bang. The patience of the promoter and the people who work at Thee Parkside just really rocks and I’m grateful they even let us play seeing as how late we were.
The work doesn’t stop there though. I strip off my armor and immediately begin breaking my gear down and hauling it outside. I open the trailer and again, Dennis, Thorgrimm, and I start to load shit up. I’m exhausted and I finally convince someone else to take my place in the trailer so that I can catch a breather for once and give my back a rest. I begin to see a pattern though of those who are helping to load up and those not even willing to get near the trailer. I’m very aggravated about that and this is only day two of the tour. Hellfiend is aggravated himself about being cooped up in the van and so room is made for him to join Thorgrimm, Abominator, and me in the SUV. We take off immediately for Los Angeles while the van stays behind and the rest of the guys crash at a local’s pad.
Note: There was some more shit I added to this that was quite humorous but fucking "blogger" decided I was using some stupid html code and nothing was saved. Technology is awesome.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: Porkland, Oregon
I arrive in Portland to rain and cold. I packed a jacket but it’s in my luggage in the SUV which is still on the road. Curses.
I call up Tom from Cardiac to find out which hotel he and everyone else is staying at. Judging from Tom’s slurred voice on the phone, he is already thoroughly sloshed. At least he’s coherent enough to give me the hotel name. Luckily there’s a free shuttle from the airport so no money is spent on a shitty cab.
When I arrive, Cardiac Arrest and Hod are drinking it up in the hotel bar but my appetite for anything liquid or solid has completely faded. I’m not sick; it’s just my nerves and a bit of anxiety that are curbing my appetite.
Tom can barely stand and the guys in Cardiac are getting worried that he may not be able to play tonight’s show. I get flashbacks of Gravehill’s Houston, Texas show and Bodybag barely able to stand on stage much less play guitar. Tom pukes and starts to sober up so luckily that situation resolves itself.
The rest of my band still hasn’t arrived so we all hang out in front of this nice hotel while it rains all around us. Many bro hugs and slaps on the ass are exchanged. It gets really awkward after the ass slapping and we all sit around looking at our feet until the rest of Gravehill arrives. Hahahaha!
We begin to reload the trailer with everyone’s equipment. Hod drove all the way from Texas to Portland, Oregon because we are using most of their backline barring my bass equipment and Bodybag’s full-stack guitar rig. Reorganizing the trailer is daunting and I can already see that any spare room we thought we would have has flown out the window. Dennis from Hod and Thorgrimm handle the Tetris-like logistics of fitting equipment into the trailer but even their expertise in puzzle solving can’t foil the curse of physical matter occupying a limited space. Some equipment has to be loaded into the van and bags put into the SUV. Both vehicles are fully loaded and uncomfortable. The venue is only a couple of miles away though so no big deal. Unfortunately we have a 10 hour drive to San Francisco afterwards...
The venue we play is the Plan B. The stage is small but it seems bigger from the last time Gravehill played there. The staff is nice but drink tickets are limited to certain beers. Shit. Look, I don’t mind PBR, but I’d rather not drink the mess if I have a choice. I get one tall can of PBR and drink it down anyway. I decided to break down and just buy a few more brews that I like. PBR makes my stomach all shitty. Outside, friends of Jim from Cardiac Arrest come by with hot sandwiches made for all of the bands! Very cool! Unfortunately, I still have no appetite and don’t partake in the free food. As I’ve stated before in my last post, I’m an idiot.
First on the bill is Fatalist from Ventura, California. They are fellow label mates and their album The Depths of Inhumanity is pretty killer. Neil and the Fatalist fellows will be playing Portland, San Francisco, and Los Angeles with us. This is the first time I think all of us have seen Fatalist with the brand new line up. They start off promising and pummel the few people in the audience with a couple of cool death metal tunes from The Depths... The new vocalist sounds spectacular. They run into a few problems set-wise but they pull together a rousing cover of Beyond the Unholy Grave by Death at the end which destroys my ears.
Next up are Portland locals, Ritual Necromancy who just blew me away the last time Gravehill played the city. These guys have such a powerful style that it’s really hard to describe. I am floored by their performance. Deep, over-reverberated vocals, guitars tuned to the lowest depths, upside down cross stage props, red lights and massive amounts of machine-generated fog make these guys completely otherworldly. I can barely see them except for the occasional silhouette outlined in the red light and fog. Fuck they rule. I buy a demo cassette tape for $4. Totally worth it...just wish I had a working cassette tape player!
Abominator, Bodybag, and myself all gear up outside the venue. Bodybag and I help Abominator put on his armor. While we get ready, Abominator goes into an alley. I assume he has to go piss but he’s back there a long time. He comes back out fiddling with his crotch and looks really fucking pissed. He paces back and forth for about a minute then punches the trailer and yells at the top of his lungs “FUCK!” I ask him what the hell’s the matter. It turns out he can’t get his pants buttoned after taking a piss and he’s been trying to button them this whole time. The armor is restricting his arms and he can barely get his hands down there. Bodybag offers to button him up for $20, $50 for a happy ending. Hahahaha Abominator eventually manages it on his own and everything is well in the world.
Hod, Cardiac Arrest, and then Gravehill finally take the stage, but I’ll refrain from the performance reviews because we all kick ass. For the first show of the tour, it goes relatively well. We end our set with a Venom, Sodom, and Autopsy medley and fuck up the last Autopsy part. Hahahaha, oh well. We pulled it off in the end without looking like we fucked up so that rocks. We all agree that we should just stick with Venom and Sodom and decide to drop the Autopsy part. The crowd response is cool though and a lot of people joined in on the In League With Satan chorus.
Packing gear up into the trailer, van, and SUV takes a lot of time. Again, Dennis and Thorgrimm handle the organization and I find myself doing a lot of heavy lifting. The first night of the tour and my back is already screaming at me to stop.
After everything is packed away, half of the group wants to continue to party while the other half wants a shower and some sleep. Thorgrimm gets aggravated and starts yelling at everyone to get in a vehicle and just drive. I ask everyone if we should just hold hands and sing “Kumbaya”. No one responds, so I ask if they want to skip the singing and just hold hands. Still no response. Party poopers.
A bunch of the guys take the van to some dude’s home and hope to party. Apparently it’s a bust because there’s a lot of hipster homos hanging out there and most of the guys decide to crash instead. All except Hellfiend and Bodybag, both of whom can’t seem to pass up an offer for free beer.
Jim, Dave, and Adam, of Cardiac and Thorgrimm and myself pile into the SUV and take off to Tim from the Warwolves pad and crash there. Thorgrimm’s buzzsaw snores keep most everyone awake so I shower and opt to sleep in the SUV. The whole time I’m trying to sleep, I have to pee constantly. I wonder if I'm having prostate problems. Hopefully not, I'm just 21 years old and have my whole life ahead of me! I’m up and down peeing on people’s lawns and flower gardens. I stumbled on a stagnant pool of water and peed in it. Turns out it was home to a horde of mosquitoes so I get bit up. I run away and try to button my pants all the while tripping over my untied boot laces with mosquitoes attacking from everywhere. I get maybe an hour or two of rest in the SUV before it’s time to rise and get ready for the trek into San Francisco.
I call up Tom from Cardiac to find out which hotel he and everyone else is staying at. Judging from Tom’s slurred voice on the phone, he is already thoroughly sloshed. At least he’s coherent enough to give me the hotel name. Luckily there’s a free shuttle from the airport so no money is spent on a shitty cab.
When I arrive, Cardiac Arrest and Hod are drinking it up in the hotel bar but my appetite for anything liquid or solid has completely faded. I’m not sick; it’s just my nerves and a bit of anxiety that are curbing my appetite.
Tom can barely stand and the guys in Cardiac are getting worried that he may not be able to play tonight’s show. I get flashbacks of Gravehill’s Houston, Texas show and Bodybag barely able to stand on stage much less play guitar. Tom pukes and starts to sober up so luckily that situation resolves itself.
The rest of my band still hasn’t arrived so we all hang out in front of this nice hotel while it rains all around us. Many bro hugs and slaps on the ass are exchanged. It gets really awkward after the ass slapping and we all sit around looking at our feet until the rest of Gravehill arrives. Hahahaha!
We begin to reload the trailer with everyone’s equipment. Hod drove all the way from Texas to Portland, Oregon because we are using most of their backline barring my bass equipment and Bodybag’s full-stack guitar rig. Reorganizing the trailer is daunting and I can already see that any spare room we thought we would have has flown out the window. Dennis from Hod and Thorgrimm handle the Tetris-like logistics of fitting equipment into the trailer but even their expertise in puzzle solving can’t foil the curse of physical matter occupying a limited space. Some equipment has to be loaded into the van and bags put into the SUV. Both vehicles are fully loaded and uncomfortable. The venue is only a couple of miles away though so no big deal. Unfortunately we have a 10 hour drive to San Francisco afterwards...
The venue we play is the Plan B. The stage is small but it seems bigger from the last time Gravehill played there. The staff is nice but drink tickets are limited to certain beers. Shit. Look, I don’t mind PBR, but I’d rather not drink the mess if I have a choice. I get one tall can of PBR and drink it down anyway. I decided to break down and just buy a few more brews that I like. PBR makes my stomach all shitty. Outside, friends of Jim from Cardiac Arrest come by with hot sandwiches made for all of the bands! Very cool! Unfortunately, I still have no appetite and don’t partake in the free food. As I’ve stated before in my last post, I’m an idiot.
First on the bill is Fatalist from Ventura, California. They are fellow label mates and their album The Depths of Inhumanity is pretty killer. Neil and the Fatalist fellows will be playing Portland, San Francisco, and Los Angeles with us. This is the first time I think all of us have seen Fatalist with the brand new line up. They start off promising and pummel the few people in the audience with a couple of cool death metal tunes from The Depths... The new vocalist sounds spectacular. They run into a few problems set-wise but they pull together a rousing cover of Beyond the Unholy Grave by Death at the end which destroys my ears.
Next up are Portland locals, Ritual Necromancy who just blew me away the last time Gravehill played the city. These guys have such a powerful style that it’s really hard to describe. I am floored by their performance. Deep, over-reverberated vocals, guitars tuned to the lowest depths, upside down cross stage props, red lights and massive amounts of machine-generated fog make these guys completely otherworldly. I can barely see them except for the occasional silhouette outlined in the red light and fog. Fuck they rule. I buy a demo cassette tape for $4. Totally worth it...just wish I had a working cassette tape player!
Abominator, Bodybag, and myself all gear up outside the venue. Bodybag and I help Abominator put on his armor. While we get ready, Abominator goes into an alley. I assume he has to go piss but he’s back there a long time. He comes back out fiddling with his crotch and looks really fucking pissed. He paces back and forth for about a minute then punches the trailer and yells at the top of his lungs “FUCK!” I ask him what the hell’s the matter. It turns out he can’t get his pants buttoned after taking a piss and he’s been trying to button them this whole time. The armor is restricting his arms and he can barely get his hands down there. Bodybag offers to button him up for $20, $50 for a happy ending. Hahahaha Abominator eventually manages it on his own and everything is well in the world.
Hod, Cardiac Arrest, and then Gravehill finally take the stage, but I’ll refrain from the performance reviews because we all kick ass. For the first show of the tour, it goes relatively well. We end our set with a Venom, Sodom, and Autopsy medley and fuck up the last Autopsy part. Hahahaha, oh well. We pulled it off in the end without looking like we fucked up so that rocks. We all agree that we should just stick with Venom and Sodom and decide to drop the Autopsy part. The crowd response is cool though and a lot of people joined in on the In League With Satan chorus.
Packing gear up into the trailer, van, and SUV takes a lot of time. Again, Dennis and Thorgrimm handle the organization and I find myself doing a lot of heavy lifting. The first night of the tour and my back is already screaming at me to stop.
After everything is packed away, half of the group wants to continue to party while the other half wants a shower and some sleep. Thorgrimm gets aggravated and starts yelling at everyone to get in a vehicle and just drive. I ask everyone if we should just hold hands and sing “Kumbaya”. No one responds, so I ask if they want to skip the singing and just hold hands. Still no response. Party poopers.
A bunch of the guys take the van to some dude’s home and hope to party. Apparently it’s a bust because there’s a lot of hipster homos hanging out there and most of the guys decide to crash instead. All except Hellfiend and Bodybag, both of whom can’t seem to pass up an offer for free beer.
Jim, Dave, and Adam, of Cardiac and Thorgrimm and myself pile into the SUV and take off to Tim from the Warwolves pad and crash there. Thorgrimm’s buzzsaw snores keep most everyone awake so I shower and opt to sleep in the SUV. The whole time I’m trying to sleep, I have to pee constantly. I wonder if I'm having prostate problems. Hopefully not, I'm just 21 years old and have my whole life ahead of me! I’m up and down peeing on people’s lawns and flower gardens. I stumbled on a stagnant pool of water and peed in it. Turns out it was home to a horde of mosquitoes so I get bit up. I run away and try to button my pants all the while tripping over my untied boot laces with mosquitoes attacking from everywhere. I get maybe an hour or two of rest in the SUV before it’s time to rise and get ready for the trek into San Francisco.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: In the Beginning...
As I sit here in the confines of my sweltering office in California, I’m overcome by
exhaustion, excitement, disappointment, exhilaration, and other adjectives that describe
my various emotional states after the official end to the Campaign for Death Metal Purity
2010. The experience was fraught with ups and downs, lefts and rights, and left hooks we never saw coming. So here I sit, with an ass load of notes and pictures and now you will witness my attempt to put this whole tour into a somewhat cohesive narrative.
In the beginning
, the idea for this tour started earlier in the year shortly after Gravehillravaged Texas in February with Ibex Moon label mates, Hod. That’s all I know about
how this soon to be do-it-yourself (DIY) tour began. I’m just a bass player so I’m never
in the loop until someone needs money, hookers, or bags of flour. Mostly money
though. All that I know is that I was told in March we would be doing this thing and to
prepare. I follow orders very well.
As the months wore on and the time drew near to prepare for this adventurous outing, logistical issues had to be worked out. Trailers, flight arrangements, who are we staying with in what state, etc... It was a lot of work that probably prematurely aged all of us by a couple of years. Thorgrimm took the brunt of this organizational nightmare from the Gravehill camp and he looks like an 80 year old man now. At least he has all of his teeth.
Fliers were created, shirts were made, and word on the street was starting to spread. Blabbermouth ran the announcement of the upcoming tour (with the accompanying Internet nerds talking shit) and all seemed to be going according to plan. Until one fateful day only two weeks before embarking on the tour I received a rather disconcerting call from Thorgrimm. Below is a transcription:
Thorgrimm: Dude, the tour’s canceled.
Me: Hahaha, yeah right.
Thorgrimm: ...
Me: Fuck.
Me: Hahaha, yeah right.
Thorgrimm: ...
Me: Fuck.
Tour support from the label evaporated into the air for some reason. The money we were expecting for rentals and everything else vanished. I was furious. I left my office and walked around in the parking lot fuming. After kicking a puppy into oncoming traffic, I felt a little better and talked with Thorgrimm again. I decided to go into debt and finance Gravehill’s expenses from my own pocket. Yes, I’m an idiot. But after all the hype we put into this thing, to cancel it at the last minute was unacceptable. I had met people throughout the country that were anxious to see us, Cardiac Arrest, and Hod and I felt that we had an obligation to follow through with the tour. Tom from Cardiac Arrest fronted the money for a van, while Hod’s drummer Dennis used that money to cover the expense on his credit card. We all took a hit financially.
Things had fallen apart, but they were coming back together.
Gravehill's only option was to use Thorgrimm’s personal vehicle which is a full-size SUV (With a hemi!! Whatever that is...). It was the only vehicle available that could pull a trailer as rental companies in our state are really bitchy about their van rentals, tow packages, and such (i.e. they don't allow it). I spent my own money to give the vehicle an overhaul. Everything was checked top to bottom and if a part even looked slightly worn, it was replaced. The SUV was running top notch and could hold five people so it was perfect for Gravehill. We rented a trailer on the cheap from a local friend and bought a tow package. It wasn’t a pretty trailer but it would suffice for what we needed it for. I tried to insist on stocking it with blow and maybe a dead hooker or two but everyone poopooed that idea cause we "needed the room" for important stuff. Whatevs.
Thursday, July 1st rolled around rather quickly. Gravehill met up at the practice studio in Orange, California, loaded my bass cabinet and rack, Bodybag’s guitar cabs, instruments, and personal baggage and took off. Well, most of Gravehill. I actually had a plane ticket to fly into Portland, Oregon so I would miss the first leg of the trip with the guys.
Stay tuned for the on-the-road adventures as told through the eyes of a true idiot...ME!
Campaign for Death Metal Purity 2010: In the Beginning...
As I sit here in the confines of my sweltering office in California, I’m overcome by
exhaustion, excitement, disappointment, exhilaration, and other adjectives that describe
my various emotional states after the official end to the Campaign for Death Metal Purity
2010. The experience was fraught with ups and downs, lefts and rights, and left hooks we never saw coming. So here I sit, with an ass load of notes and pictures and now you will witness my attempt to put this whole tour into a somewhat cohesive narrative.
In the beginning
, the idea for this tour started earlier in the year shortly after Gravehillravaged Texas in February with Ibex Moon label mates, Hod. That’s all I know about
how this soon to be do-it-yourself (DIY) tour began. I’m just a bass player so I’m never
in the loop until someone needs money, hookers, or bags of flour. Mostly money
though. All that I know is that I was told in March we would be doing this thing and to
prepare. I follow orders very well.
As the months wore on and the time drew near to prepare for this adventurous outing, logistical issues had to be worked out. Trailers, flight arrangements, who are we staying with in what state, etc... It was a lot of work that probably prematurely aged all of us by a couple of years. Thorgrimm took the brunt of this organizational nightmare from the Gravehill camp and he looks like an 80 year old man now. At least he has all of his teeth.
Fliers were created, shirts were made, and word on the street was starting to spread. Blabbermouth ran the announcement of the upcoming tour (with the accompanying Internet nerds talking shit) and all seemed to be going according to plan. Until one fateful day only two weeks before embarking on the tour I received a rather disconcerting call from Thorgrimm. Below is a transcription:
Thorgrimm: Dude, the tour’s canceled.
Me: Hahaha, yeah right.
Thorgrimm: ...
Me: Fuck.
Me: Hahaha, yeah right.
Thorgrimm: ...
Me: Fuck.
Tour support from the label evaporated into the air for some reason. The money we were expecting for rentals and everything else vanished. I was furious. I left my office and walked around in the parking lot fuming. After kicking a puppy into oncoming traffic, I felt a little better and talked with Thorgrimm again. I decided to go into debt and finance Gravehill’s expenses from my own pocket. Yes, I’m an idiot. But after all the hype we put into this thing, to cancel it at the last minute was unacceptable. I had met people throughout the country that were anxious to see us, Cardiac Arrest, and Hod and I felt that we had an obligation to follow through with the tour. Tom from Cardiac Arrest fronted the money for a van, while Hod’s drummer Dennis used that money to cover the expense on his credit card. We all took a hit financially.
Things had fallen apart, but they were coming back together.
Gravehill's only option was to use Thorgrimm’s personal vehicle which is a full-size SUV (With a hemi!! Whatever that is...). It was the only vehicle available that could pull a trailer as rental companies in our state are really bitchy about their van rentals, tow packages, and such (i.e. they don't allow it). I spent my own money to give the vehicle an overhaul. Everything was checked top to bottom and if a part even looked slightly worn, it was replaced. The SUV was running top notch and could hold five people so it was perfect for Gravehill. We rented a trailer on the cheap from a local friend and bought a tow package. It wasn’t a pretty trailer but it would suffice for what we needed it for. I tried to insist on stocking it with blow and maybe a dead hooker or two but everyone poopooed that idea cause we "needed the room" for important stuff. Whatevs.
Thursday, July 1st rolled around rather quickly. Gravehill met up at the practice studio in Orange, California, loaded my bass cabinet and rack, Bodybag’s guitar cabs, instruments, and personal baggage and took off. Well, most of Gravehill. I actually had a plane ticket to fly into Portland, Oregon so I would miss the first leg of the trip with the guys.
Stay tuned for the on-the-road adventures as told through the eyes of a true idiot...ME!
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