Marching pt. 2 / Intermission

We finished the Canadian dates with Johnny Winter on Tuesday and were back home by Wednesday afternoon. What a blast getting to open shows for a legend like Johnny Winter. We finally got a chance to meet him on the last day, and I thanked him for letting us open for him. What do you say to someone whose music has influenced you so deeply?

So now the month is almost done, 2 shows left before a nice long 6 day break! Meantime, Project X has a name (TBA) and hopefully a release date in the next couple of months. We're just finishing the mixing and song selection. Just a little hint, while we were in Canada, Richard and Tom visited with the fans in line for the shows and gave out SHB compilation cds. I didn't tell anyone, but I put a couple of new tracks at the end of the cd, so if you got one of the ones I made, you've got some unheard (outside the band) music!

Thanks to all our Canadian friends who always make us feel so welcome when we come to your beautiful country. I can't wait to come back this summer and have some more fun with ya'll!

Canada / Day 5

Toronto tonight, London tomorrow and then that short/long drive home. It's been an incredible trip so far. We've been playing to really receptive and kind audiences and the Johnny Winter band and crew have all been incredibly gracious. I've been in this business long enough to know that, as an opening act, it isn't always like this, but every one's been really cool. As a musician and a big Johnny Winter fan, getting to sit at the side of the stage every night and watch a true legend never stops being a thrill. Most nights, at some point I go out near the sound board and see it from the audience perspective and I can guarantee that they're getting a great show.

I hope we get to do some more dates with these guys in the future, it would be awesome!

Canada / Day 3

So with 3 shows under our belts, I can tell you that I have the best band in the world. Richard and Tom are supreme professionals. They go through tremendous amounts of crap everyday, and they always rise to the occasion. Yesterday, we drove to the gig from Quebec City, arriving @ 3:00. The load in is scheduled for 4:00 and we have no intention of being one minute late for anything. So we get there at 3:00, find parking for the van, walk across the street for lunch (at 3:30) and are back at the gig for load in. My band proceeds to blow the doors off the place and then play better tonight than last night! I'm so proud of these guys. They don't stop. They get it. It's not about the money, it's not about the adulation, it's about that intangible force that covers you when you are creating art for the sake of art and riding that sonic wave. When I stand in front of them, I fear nothing. It's actually pretty cool!

Canada / Day 1

Well, here we are in beautiful (but very snowy) Quebec City. Tonight is the first night of 5 shows opening for the legendary Johnny Winter. I'm very excited to get the chance to play to some Canadian audiences. It's been a while since we've been here and they always make us feel right at home.

It is a meteorological shock to come from the Florida Keys to the Great White North, but we will do our best to melt as much snow as possible! We've been driving non-stop for 30+ hours, so I'm sure I'll be more talkative later.

Plumas Pines

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So we all know that I am not one for heights, and honestly I am not much for mornings after great gigs where it is hard to get to sleep. But this is one for the books. Today we are up early and off to Plumas Pines Resort, its a short run, but god knows this is a memorable one.

Coffee is gotten, Tom settles in behind the wheel, loved ones are called, and the gig is advanced. Club owner is hugely receptive, so we are all psyched.

Ipod on, snoozes coming.

I wake up to find us in the middle of the woods. Some ancient high mountain road, Scott behind the wheel, Tom talking to his wife, Richard and Derek out like lites. But I glance out the window, as I am known to do, and I see were driving on the edge of a cliff, and a rock wall rises up above us the other way.

Close my eyes. Make it go away. When I open my eyes, the cliff is on the other side, and the rock wall is over there. Who needs this, faith in Scott, release it to the universe.

But it is amazing, I look down the cliff from the van, and I realize this is a giant fall. A huge one, because at the base of this cliff thing is giant trees, and they appear miles below us. What a cool sight.

After a couple of hours of rising and falling, and all of us laughing, were here.

Plumas Pines Resort. Now you need to imagine this, miles from everywhere. A resort in the big sense. Alone in nature. A giant lake, and cabins to rent, and a small restaraunt bar thing. So were thinking this is not going to be good. But the owner is awesome, the food is good, and I do not have to eat Mexican. We load in, sound check, and it is off to sleep.

But this place is to gorgeous, I gotta see some stuff. So I walk to the lake, which is the biggest lake I have ever seen. Walk around the woods a bit, and settle in at the room me and Derek have. Catch up on some paperwork, call Mom, and snoresville.

NO WAIT, we watched TEAM AMERICA. Scarred for life, I tried to block it.

They have a laundry, so some of us use that, but most of us doze off.

The gig, well the gig is awesome. What we did not know is all of the folks who live on the lake are thrilled to have a live band, and they all come, and they all love us. Scott and the guys whip out all the tricks, and even some new ones. The tricks are deep, and I never see them all it seems.

After the gig, Scott and I walk back to the room, and we watch Creem at Royal Albert Hall, and argue about Eric Clapton.

Early morning tomorrow, San Fran and the great record shop. Psyched to be going to that town.

Sacramento

So early in blog I talked about the greatness of the Apple Store, and the amazing sense of good will that comes from having a good ipod. Well that Ipod is now in the hands of Wendy from the band Sunspot, because I know she is giving it a good home. Drummer and all, prone to wear Volcom clothes. Who knows, but she has the ipod, and I got a new black one.

So Sacto we are staying in this joint right across the street from the State house. Which is oddly enough not occupied by the Guvernator. Rather I am sure he lives in Malibu, driving around in his hybrid Humvee. Or whatever he does.

The club is called the Stork I think. It is amazing. A big giant room, several hundred blues heads there to see our boys put on a show. Sitting in the back, an actual dressing room backstage type of thing, and we are feeling blessed. This is going to be an amazing show.

I was right. Scott is loose, and really connected tonight. The band is playing loud, probably too loud for the bar.

No wait...yes for sure too loud for the bartender.

But Scott is loose. really ontop of the groove, and giving it everything.

The only time I freaked out was when a giant, I mean like 6 ten biker dude walked up during the big Hendrix medly to get real close to Scott. I had no idea what I was going to do, throw myself in front of the bullet and get all secret service on him. WHo knows. But the good thing was he just wanted to tell Scott he was going great guns.

What a great night.

Video, we got Video

Ridgecrest, CA

So Ridgecrest...I do not honestly recall the name of the club or much about it, other than one simple fact...the hotel was literally less than 100 feet from the club. This will become hilarious later on.

Ridgecrest is a Navy town I think. There is a giant fence out on the edge of town, and signs that indicate Navy base stuff...but honestly there is no ocean, so no ships. There did not appear to be any Top Gun type of stuff, so no fighter planes. But the Navy is going to do what the Navy is going to do.

I have been rooming with Derek on the trip, and Derek is a pretty good guy. Remarkably resillient in the morning, and has the ability to move quick, and I think he is still sound asleep. Derek is the merch crew guy on the trip, and honestly I do not know him all that well, but he seems nice. Boy cannot handle his drink though.

So we get to the club, and it is a huge joint. Like a barn/pool hall/American Legion type of thing. Nice stage, and we get to use the PA. Bartender lady was really "friendly". And the boys are feeling good. So this is a good time.

The show came off without a hitch, and Scott and the guy finally pulled out Wicked Grip for me, after hearing so much about it from CE Hanifin. What a ballsy song, and Richard and Tom walk through it with the amazing power that is the Scott Holt band.



So now we get into some road gossip. The juicy stuff. The show came off, and were hanging out, and loading out to the van. Everyone is cool, and Derek is off with the ladies as he likes ot be. I think Scott and I spent the time talking about what the hell CRUNK is, and how to get Crunk.

The van loaded. We walk back to the hotel, Derek stays at the club. About 3 am, no Derek, I do not care. The boy has a key, and can handle his own. I need something to drink, and there is a gas station a block away.

I step out of the hotel, and the streets are dark. This is a desert town, nothing going on. I see the gas station is closed, and I see a man stumbling around in the street. Alone. I take a better look, its Derek.

I am a bit confused, he is going away from the hotel, the wrong direction, toward the cold desert. I yell, "Hey Derek!!!" the boy turns, and falls. BOOM.

Gets up, and says "Oh there you are, I was looking for you."

This is funny because this was a night we sat around and talked about Eddie Van Halen and his porn career for a few hours at the hotel, so he was not looking for me.

He stumbles back over, and asks if I have 15 dollars, never explaining why. There are NO OTHER PEOPLE AROUND AND NO OPEN BUSINESSES. Maybe he got a parking ticket.

Who knows.

I get him back, and I take a shower, and Derek is out in his bed. Snoring.

Heres the thing, if you step out the front door of the club, and turn left. Walk 100 feet, you will literally run directly into the hotel. THEY ARE THE SAME PARKING LOT.

Gotta love the road.

Leaving for Ridgecrest, CA

Its just one of those things that come with the road. We gotta leave the gorgeous town of San Diego and beaches and all of it, and we are off to Ridgecrest, CA. The great thing we are all working well together. We are all really rested and feel good about this, so were off. Even if we cannot focus a camera to save our lives.


One significant thing about the above photo, look at Tom's sunglasses. The rumor is that Tom burns through sunglasses like I burn through headphones for my iPod. We got those as a 2 for 1, so there is a back up...but lets see how long they make it.

So its the van, about three hours, and the desert here in California. Totally bypassing my former hometown of LA. But that is a good thing...

See you in a few hours in Ridgecrest.

Things I learned while on the Road with the Scott Holt Band

1. The Van is home, and no amount of Febreeze covers STANK

2. The guys are serious about Ipods

3. "Milk might have been a bad choice"

4. Movie dialogue gets stuck in everyones head

5. Tyler knows everything.

Day off in San Diego

Today we decided that we were going to stay the whole day here in SD, as it is a short drive to Ridgecrest, and since we love SD.

We went to the road food book, and found a Hawaiian restaraunt, and off we went. Derrick took the day to ride public transit and go to Mexico. I gotta question the smarts of going to Tijuana alone, but that is fine.

The restaraunt was amazing. Right on the beach. Some girl interrupted us, could tell we were foreigners, and made me try some tuna dish. She was cool, so I told her I liked it.

But honestly, ick.

I am glad for the day of rest, but feel like crap if there is no show.

San Diego Nights Two and Day 3

So we got a second night in San Diego, which is good for all of us. More nights in stable hotel rooms, that is awesome. Derrick and I got to sleep in a little longer, because nothing stops the Starbucks train. It just delays it a bit.

During the day we all sort of rested, and caught up on life. We went downtown to look for the restaraunt you see there. Sort of a true California meets Hawaii explosion. Me, and the band ran to the mall that was near us at the hotel. We bought some stuff at WalMart, toiletries and what not.

I bought the band one of my favorite books, Ishmael.

It is just one of those lifechanging sort of books. Tom ended up reading it on the road. I was so proud of myself to have bought a book that Tom thought was cool.

Our day went the way most bands go, laundry, napping, grabass, arguing about LOST. And I do not care what Scott says, there making that show up as they go along. They have to be. There is no reason for a polar bear to play a significant role, or a hatch, or god knows what else is happening there. Screw that damn island. They said I needed to watch from the beginning...what is this??? HOMEWORK.

We got to the gig, and it was the same...only better. The band found a way to get Scott some room so he would stop ramming into the big pole.

We also got to meet Joannie from Blogcritics. She is a writer and a fotog, and a serious blues fan. Her boyfriend (whos name I forget) does an internet blues radio station. How cool is that?

That night we broke out a new song called OKAY, and you can find that one Scotts myspace page I think.

Then Scott broke out the long Hendrix medley. It was shocking in its power. What is even more shocking is that the show is the same for 5000 people as 150 people.

We bring it. This is a million dollar show.

San Diego, Night One

So there we are. In El Cajon. Four guys. One gig. The south California weather. Being from Wisconsin I was freaking out, my body confused, and it was a bad smell coming from our luggage. Too many days without laundry I suppose.

Either way when that Motel 6 had laundry, we knew where our days were going to be .

The club was called Patricks II. Right downtown. Right next to the Hard Rock, a really cool hole in the wall in one of those oceanside towns. A real locals only thing.

The owner Mario, cool name, was a great guy. He had installed his own PA, so that was nice. And then the band loaded in, and we found the stage to be shall we say a tight fit. Not like Hueys or anything, but a tight fit none the less.

The big Irishman behind the bar told us the lay of the land, and then it was off and running. The hardest part of the San Diego gig, parking. I think Richard and Tom parked the van in Ohio to be honest.

The club has a great open window serving area...onto the street. So we got our fair of lets just say differantly homed (or homeless) dancers. Lots of walk up people, and just generally a good show to start California off.

I could tell from where I was Scott was having a hard time on stage, being as confined as he was. There was a giant post there, and it was affecting his movement. But ultimately they overcame that and gave it 150% and showed the people of Patricks II what a great time could be had.

We met some cats from a Research Vessell. And while I do not claim to know what they do, they seemed like great guys.

This is a new song

This is a new song.

Check it out.

Things I learned while on the Road with the Scott Holt Band

1...There is a differance between a band and a BAND

2...Blue Diamond makes a Wasabi Soy delicacy

3...I am not a hard core coffee guy

4...I cannot imagine life without my iPod

5...Doug, the agent, is a champ. Prone to bouts of passionate discourse, but at the end of the day...Doug stands in our corner.

The Road To San Diego

So, the next morning was a few of what will be come to the same thing...the Starbucks stop. Nothing occurs before the Starbucks stop. Richard has an insane ability to see Starbucks. Man I cannot even see road signs, and this man is spotting Starbucks. He is like a great hunter looking for a mountain goat, or whatever metaphor applies to things that can see a long distance.

Starbucks day one...red eye, and maple scone. A bit of heaven. Though that is some serious coffee, and it might be TOO MUCH for me. I worry that I look like a big sissy with all tha milk.

So we try to go this and that way in Tuscon. Finally finding the highway.

The van, our loving Ford, is a great van. A conversion van, four captain chair, and one bench. Enough room in the back for the box drum of the intrerpid drummer Tom Larson...and the holy guitars of Richard and Scott.

Then it was off, through the desert, to the dreamland of California.

While on the road the ipods came out, and a tradition was started telling what the first song that everyone heard on the ipod. Richard seemed to always find a Beatles song. At first I did not get it, then I got it.

The desert is gorgeous. Its where, like Graham Parsons, my family lays me to rest. Sorry for the downer. But it is so clear, clean. Binary almost.

So on the trip we experience Border Control twice. All the talk about immigration seems so silly. Both times the person asked, "Are you all American citizens?" Well yeah. Not drugs, or guns...or even show us some id. Just "well are you?", and then we were off.

While traveling we made our first foray into real altitude, and our loving van responsed the way all internal combustion engines would I guys...buy struggling. But the van kept on keeping on. Blessings to Tom for getting us through that mountain pass.

We made it safe and sound, and a bit sweaty. It actually seemed like a really long drive, but it was not anything like the stuff to come.

The band spent a great chunk of time talking to their wives. And children. I gotta say it was a bit strange. That is not the norm for bands in my experience. I think it reflects the maturity of these guys, and the amazing women they all leave behind.

I was also amazed at Merch Guy Dereks ability to sleep the entire time. I can say honestly in the time I was in that van, I looked to the back seat only once, and it was like a little cave.

We got to San Diego like champs, and found Patricks II easily, and then our hotel. Our hotel was in El Cajon, and a colorful place. Right next to a great little Mexican restaraunt where Richard and Derek and I ate, while Scott and Tom seached out In and Out Burger.

Then, our heads hit the pillows.

Tuscon is left full of the Blues

Well we all know I am partial to my blues raw, and energetic, and for lack of a better word PRIMAL. It also needs to be FUNKY.

We all know...

the funk is gonna do what the funk is gonna do

And I need performance and connection.

I think that is why I love the Scott Holt Band so much. They drive themselves so far for the show, that it is just gorgeous and powerful. Scott on a stage with a guitar is a real form of perfection, and energy. It is amazing. The training, the preparation, Scott and the guys are like a finely trained boxer, just needing the stage, and they can do the magic.

Well that is what Tuscon got.

The guys and myself had spent the afternoon relaxing at that great hotel, and by the time it was time to go all we needed was a little Starbucks Red Eye juice, and kapow nothing was going to hold us back.

We arrived at a part in Tuscon, and they had a gorgeous bandshell. It was just amazing. About 5000 people were there for the local cats before us, and those guys were good. It was like a 100 guys on that stage, and they kept it together. So while we were loading in Scott and I hung out in the green room, and tuned guitars. He and I had not seen each other in a few weeks, so it was great just to catch up.

I am often unsure of my spot during shows, but it was cool because Scott said, "Your going to be on stage today right?" So my confidence was boosted. For whatever reason, I like making sure my friends the performers are safe and get what they need for a good show. Years of travel with the other guy sort of made that spot comfortable for me. So I was thrilled.

So the band came to the stage, got introduced and dropped the first note, and WOW the monitors were not on, or not close...because they all started looking around like someone had kicked there dog. I could hear it too, as could the monitor guy, so we got it straightened out right away. Way to go Monitor Guy in Tuscon. Nothing like 30 seconds of panic on the first gig.

I thought it would all be okay...but I was wrong.

In the middle of the first song I took my eyes off Tom for a bit, as I thought he was okay. How wrong I was. You know how I know I was wrong...that drum stick sticking out my butt. He managed to hit me mid song, right in the butt. Its not that it is a small butt, but he did not miss a beat. Turns out he could not hear Richard in the monitors. So we fixed that.

Seeing Scott and the guys on a big stage is the best way. I may be partial to the full night of Scott...but when they do the festival set...all diamonds played at 100% intensity you have no choice but to go WOW.

The shows highlights were "I will make love to you anytime". That song has clearly come on in ways that I never thought were possible.

Also the crowd moved the the front of the stage, like a good festival crowd. Unlike the band that followed us, where the crowd just sat back and watched. The Scott Holt show was participatory. Scott was giving to them, and they were giving back.

Amazingly there were two youg girls, like ten, who were rigth on the barrier dancing more than anyone else. Scott jumped off the stage, and got in the crowd with everyone, and they loved it.

And if your keeping score, Scott played 4 guitars out of tune in a 75 minute set.

The finale of Polk Salad Annie, that made my hands shake.

This is a great band.

Landing In Tuscon

Well this post is really about finding time to sleep, and seeing Scott kick some level of ass that few can come close to...and leaving headliners in the dust.

For me, I hate jumping into the tour midway through, but these guys spent some time in texas, and we all know that Texas is all about driving. One spot to the next spot...its a big state.

So the night before was my family reunion, so I was up all day driving to Chicago, and then it was to sit at the airport at Midway. So I was operating on zero sleep in like three nights by the time I landed in Tuscon.

The Southern Arizona Blues Society sent a ride for me, and it was actually a family. No fault to them, but after 60 hours of no sleep, the last thing I was looking for was colorful family dynamics. I was looking for bed.

The good folks from the Blues Society got me to the Hotel in downtown Tuscon, pretty sure I was sitting in the back of there jeep drooling like a retarded puppy. But the hotel perked me up. It was officially a 4 star joint, and the attention I got proved it.

Rooms were not ready until 3 pm, you know the deal cleaning them, making beds, hospital corners...etc. Well I got there about 10 am. So that is 5 hours to kill, no sleep, no nothing, no band. Well the nice folks there took my bags, and put them in the back, and found me a nice chair out of the way. In all honesty it was a great chair, and like all music folks I knew they did not have to do that. But the sales manager saw it in my eyes that I was going to fall out, and nothing he could say was going to stop me. So better to get me out of sight, than sleeping in the lobby or the bar while I waited for my room. So much love to the Hotel Arizona, and its great staff.

I dozed off, and what felt like a few minutes later my blackberry was ringing. Yeah I am a tech savvy guy, and on this trip it paid off. It was the guys, wanting directions to the hotel. Well on this I made my first and from what I can tell one of only a few mistakes on the tour. I sent them to the wrong joint. I was exhausted, and not thinking straight...thankfully the staff heard my mistake and we got Scott and the guys on the phone and guided them in. I was really embarrassed.

About the time they arrived, the room was ready. So it was in bed for me. I greeted the guys. It was great to see Tom and Richard and Scott and to meet Derek. But I had to lay down. Van call was about 3, so I had 2 hours to sleep.

Which I did.

Starting Over...

So I am sitting at home in Wisconsin, the great north. Were coming into winter. The first thing I learned from the mighty Scott Holt band, is that nothing is for sure...only Starbucks. Nothing comes between the band and the show, but the only for sure thing is Starbucks...massive quantities of Starbucks. I mean fans give Starbucks gift cards to the band, I guess that makes it all worthwhile.

But I also got a hold of the truth that the internet, while everywhere...is truly not everywhere. It is not in the van. You would think that the van would have it, given the superior nature of the van...but the van is without wireless access points. So some of this blogging that came before is sort of haphazard, and not really any good. So I have had a few days to sit with the memories and the notes from the road, and it is my intention to tell those stories, and hope that they excite you.

And the other thing, were going to dump massive amounts of photos of the guys on this blog, and sometimes there will be a story, and sometimes not.

In these photos, your seeing some images of the band on there last trip north. To Wausau, my home. Sitting around Cafe Gelato catching up on email, and apparently cleaning up after themselves.

The young man in the photo is a cat who has started to take bass lessons after seeing Richard and what he can do with his bass.

We also see Richard turning his back on the whole technology thing. I do not think he had an ipod yet.

Sitting at Home

Dear Cats and Kittens...

I made it home. Had a great life adventure...made friends with musicians I thought of as heroes, now there my friends and better yet my family.

So I will be catching some ZZZZZ's, and then I will start the tour stop notes. The goal is to pass this along to Scott and the boys to update...but I need to talk them into it.

But I am home now. Give me a few days to do some laundry, then check back.