After roughly a month with shows nightly and one
night in our own beds, we're homeward bound like
Simon and the less talented Garfunkel. Tonight
and tomorrow, though, we're playing the
Independent with the Fall, so, heads up there for
the home towners.
So, we've had three shows since we parted ways
with Art Brut and tagged the Robocop Kraus like
the Bushwhackers would have done in the olden
WWF days. San Diego was dang fun, followed the
next morning by Peter asserted HORSE dominance
on my home court, no less; Earl Boykins I am not.
Then we did a double-header in LA, once at the
Spaceland and once at the Knitting Factory...
Wait. So, I have to tell a brief story. Outside the
Knitting Factory, while we getting ready to leave,
I heard something flabbergasting that has to be
shared. Without introduction, this quote (not about
us, mind you), is my best bad line of the tour:
"Yeah, but they dressed really well and that's the
most important thing." And no: not a joke. It was
depressingly hilarious though, like watching that
Home Improvement 10th banana guy host the
Oh. And "Name that Bloke" continues, with many
blokes eliminated (not Kevin Nealan, not Montell
Jordan, not Brad Renfro) but the real blokes
undiscovered, except Peter's, who was Joe Pesci.
Now, we slowly scale the Grapevine, praying Sir
Patrick doesn't start smelling like coolant. See you