Deep in the heart of Texas for at least 24 more hours

Bonjour, one and all. We're in Austin, glazed with sweat, owing to the 4000% humidity, getting ready for our final show with Art Brut in Houston. Sniff, sniff. We'll miss those boys (and girl) and their top of the popsness. But there is no time for glumness, since we've still got one more show and a van to pack and, since we're in Texas, meat to eat. Bring me the ribcage of a four legged mammal.

So, I mentioned last time that we changed our day off to an impromptu show day in Dallas, at an incredibly cool, divey place called the Double Wide. If you ever hear me complaining about a camoflague soundbooth with a stag's head on it and free Lonestars, you can slap me. The opener (who had, somehow, even less notice than us) was called St. Vincent, which is misleading since St. Vincent was not a band, but a girl with a guitar. She had this Jolie Holland with jazz chords thing going on, and, well, was my favorite opener thus far. We spent that night playing a few we hadn't played in ages, including No Midnight, which always goes over well in Texas. This may sound stereotypical, but Texans love the banjo. And god bless that. We could all learn a thing or two from them. Except how to select a governor...of course, we elected Arnold and Reagan, so I wouldn't take lessons from California either.

That night, we got our first good sleep in weeks, cruised to Austin and played Emo's, after some aforementioned barbequed meats and wonderbread. Have to say that Emo's treated us really well, gave us more drink tickets than William Faulkner could've used, and the sound there was, well, unreal. It definately deserves its mythic status.

For those who may be worried or wondering, Patrick Stewart had some sort of faith healing in Kansas and no longer leaks oil at alarming rates. In fact, it's been several hundred miles since we had to fill her back up. Keep your fingers crossed; perhaps that Madame Laveau comment a while back worked mysterious wonders. Only time will tell.

So: to Houston, home of NASA, our last show with Art Brut, and 7'6" Chinese centers. Onwards.