Unauthorized Biography

I had a rather transcendent moment today. I was watching the almost-gimmicky "Front to Back" reunion of Ben Folds Five. (Front to Back is a new mypspace-sponsored thing where a broken-up band gets back together for one night to perform the songs from one of their CDs--you guessed it--front to back). BF5 performed probably their most critically-acclaimed album, Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner for the show, which was recorded just over a month ago in Chapel Hill where the band started, and the video is now on myspace. Folds joked, "If I had known about this gig ten years ago, I would've sequenced [the songs on] the record a little differently."

Anyway, I was watching this performance of this downright amazing album and there was something so melancholy. Not terrible, just melancholy. I think I usually find it a bit depressing to watch a group who did (past tense) something immensely successful try to do (present tense) it again. Sometimes it just feels like a sad attempt to relive it or something. Not that I think in this case that it was at all a narcissistic endeavor on their parts--proceeds went to charity after all. But when they were performing "Don't Change Your Plans" at one moment I realized that Ben's voice was still conveying enough honesty to suggest this song still held something for him. That ten years later, this could still be quite a song to perform. And even with all the gimmicky, publicity stunt-ness of it; even with a trumpet soloist apparently from the college they were performing at and a cheering girlfriend in the audience; even with a crowd probably full of people who didn't even know who Ben Folds was when the original album came out... a song stood out as transcendent art. Every once and a while I seem to need to be reminded of the power of a song.

Let us write music that will still be something in ten years. And let that always, always, be our prayer.

Does anybody read this blog?

East Coast tour comes to a close.. Homecoming bash at Martyrs this Sunday!

Well, I'll leave it to one of the other guys to really put the cap on this.. but for the most part, our time on the road is over for this one. It was a fantastic tour though; you hear horror stories from other bands about stuff getting stolen or cars having problems or booking contracts being broken by managers/venues... and we didn't really have any of that. Other than Morgan, Vij and I being sick at points, it went incredibly smoothly. So we're pretty grateful.

In case you're in Chicago and hadn't heard, we have our big Tour Homecoming show coming up on Sunday at Martyrs. We don't really want to get in the habit of using this blog for show announcements or whatever, but this is a bigger show for us (arguably the biggest we've played in Chicago yet). It's been hard to really promote it at all because we've been gone and working on a lot of other stuff, so.. we just wanted to get the word out. :) We fully stand behind the other acts playing on Sunday too, they're really great. Sherri-Anne & Bird we met at an open mic, Micah Walk Band we played with at Cubby a couple months ago. Good times.

In other news, the lyrics "Pizza of my eye" and "BMX bike of my life" completely ruin a couple Motion City Soundtrack songs for me.

Weird and wonderful

We're playing my hometown tonight. For the first time of course. It feels weird.

That is all.

On the Road Again

Hey guys, Jake here. This is my first post, technically since the one I did with Vijay didn't count.

So we had a few wonderful days of rest at the Brooks' house(Mike's parents), where we ate like kings and were able to sleep in until our hearts' desire. And on Wednesday we drove down to West Virginia to stay at their summer home, which was a gorgeous cabin near a lake and an all around peaceful place to be.

Oh, I forgot to mention that we've been stopped by police several times in this trip, a couple times were mainly because both Morgan and Vijay's cars were missing a headlight. So while we were in Pittsburgh Morgan took his car in for an oil change and routine maintenence and to get his headlight changed. While for Vijay's car we decided to buy a headlight and do it ourselves, which begged the question: "How many musicians does it take to change a headlight?" So after reading the instructions multiple times, and struggling for what must've been at least a half-hour, we succeeded and were on our way.

Thursday came and we were excited to play our first college show down at Elon University. We have a friend (Carolyn) who goes to school there and we must thank her so much for basically setting this show up and inviting so many people out to it that we felt like actual rock stars. Also my parents drove 5hrs. to see us play for the first time(they live in NC also) and I think my mom is just glad I'm not in some crazy metal band.

Well, that's everything for now. We'll be off to play the Hard Rock Cafe in Pittsburgh in a few hours and we can't wait.

Tour Tally:
Run-ins with the law: 3
Items lost: 2 (Jake's hoodie, Morgan's powerstrip)
Lost and thinking we'd never find a way out: 2
Wrong turns: 10

Jake
commonshinerlovesyou

Different Worlds Part 2

So 4.5 hours after leaving the hustle, bustle, and utter terror of Jersey City, we arrived at Interlaken Reformed Church in Interlaken, NY. It was obvious immediately that this venue was far more excited about our presence than NYC when we were greeted by this:



Their little boys only got more adorable.

We loaded in and sound checked in the sanctuary of the church (and we're talking a for real sanctuary, not a gymnasium like our church back in Chicago). So I guess that meant we were gonna have to watch our mouths, since the 4 year olds running around weren't reason enough.

So after sound checking we went downstairs for dinner which they prepared for us (post service potluck style), and it was a veritable feast, especially when compared to the graham crackers and McDonald's that had constituted most of the meals we had experienced thus far. Then the pastor asked the kids if they had any questions for us (might be our first Q&A we've ever done). We successfully convinced them that we were far bigger rock stars then we are.

The show itself went well, though we started to realize that our stage banter has depended on people drinking and talking among themselves a little too much. When everyone just watches you in rapt attention between songs, your self-deprecating stories of breaking a string one time when you played outdoors seem a whole lot more shallow.

While it did seem odd to sing a couple songs about drinking, or a few about jaded neurotic romance gone wrong in a sanctuary, I didn't think it was at all out of place. Ministry can be done just as effectively in a bar as in a cathedral, and it has become more and more clear that we were not called to do the latter. Given the conservative feel of the congregation, the fact that a couple people later said our show turned into a wonderful worship experience is testament alone to the power of God through music.

Then after the show we went to our merch table to sell CDs and T-shirts, and we didn't have to wait long before a line of people wanting to purchase merch and get autographs formed. It was odd to have people want to talk to you, rather than willing to talk to you when you offer them a sticker and ask them if they want to be on your newsletter.

Now one question you may have had right at the start of this post was "What on earth were you doing in Interlaken?" (Names included as "shout-outs") Well my freshman year of college roommate (Jeff Jackson) has been a fan of ours for a while, and he converted his sister (Tina VandeSlunt) into a fan as well, and her and her husband (Derek VandeSlunt), who's the pastor of Interlaken Reformed Church, wondered if we would ever be able to play a show out there. So there you go.

So that night we hung out with them and another wonderful couple from the church (Charity and Mark) and we chatted about a whole slew of things, while playing with their aggressively attention starved dogs (Rupp and Arena). We learned that Interlaken was pronounced with a "lake" and not a "lock." We also learned that we had offended a few people at the church before we had even arrived (mainly with the song Rosalyn). The world seemed so calm compared to where we had been 18 hours or so before.

Also, I spotted this on the wall of Tina and Derek's house:

Sorry for the blurriness of the picture, but it's a poster of the South Haven Lighthouse (my home town in Michigan). I'd never felt so at home.

The next day we started the trek back to Pittsburgh, weaving our way through the Appalachian mountains on the way, realizing the crazy difference in experiences we've already had, and we've only been on the road 4 days. What a disjointed life this is.

Different Worlds Part 1

Well after the show in Newburyport, we were excited and slightly terrified about our first show in New York City. Also, it was mine and Jake's first time ever even in the city, and as much as we pride ourselves on being big city Chicago boys, it's still a little intimidating to drive into New York.

First off, we took the Triburo Bridge to get to Manhattan where our show was, and like impending doom, the whole city was shrouded with fog, so we knew there was a giant somewhere, but we couldn't really see it. We soon got our first "welcome to New York, you sonofabitch" by paying $5 to cross a bridge (and to think I thought $3 on the Chicago Skyway was ridiculous). We found the venue, which was clearly a place where you need to pull in your own crowd. So needless to say, no one was there. Also, apparently trash is picked up off the street, because the streets were covered with trash (in bags, though there was plenty of loose trash as well).

Then we had a total surprise when our friend Grace (who has been one of our most loyal fans for a couple years now) shows up out of nowhere. We should point out, she lives outside of Chicago. She provided a tremendous source of comfort for us, and we can't thank her enough for managing to be at our first New York show. We love you dearly, Grace!

More people did trickle in as we played, and overall we played pretty well, considering Mike and I were still getting over sickness. We also met a great band named Less than Treason, who I'm sure we will work with more in the future.

Then the adventure really began. Our good friend Amy came out and suggested that since we were only in town for the night, we should really experience more of the city. So our mission became clear. Ride the subway into downtown and get a New York slice of pizza. And what better place to go than Grand Central Station.

So in the span of about half an hour we experienced the New York Subway (which goes by numbers and letters, so score one for Chicago, since it's far cooler to say "Brown Line" then "the #7"), Grand Central Station, and Times Square. My take on Times Square is that it's an adult circus where everyone is pissed (and all the clowns are hookers). So at 1:30am we walked through the field of lights and sounds like we were in some Hunter S. Thompson acid trip, and eventually stumbled into Ray's Pizza to experience our New York Pizza. We folded our slices and went to town. It was pretty good, I won't lie.

After venturing back through "Hell by Fellini" we were more and more blown away at just how many people were out at 3am. This city is crazy! There were department stores open at 3am, and people actually going in and shopping! What kind of drinking do you need to do to decide that the one thing you need in the middle of the night is a DVD, or some packing tape.

My personal favorite part was the fact that food vendors are on the street all night. In Chicago, food vendors are done by 8:30 at the latest, so hats off to New York on that one.

Now you may think that getting from New York to Jersey City (where our friend Amy lives) would be a piece of cake (heck, it's just on the other side of a tunnel), however, we would prove that was no easy feat, as you do still need to find said tunnel. After performing a couple illegal turns, driving through a building (Grand Central station no less. It was kind of awesome), and driving through what appeared to be Haiti, we decided that following Amy's handwritten directions was no longer ideal. Luckily my car charger fit her dead phone which had GPS, which we used to finally get back to her place.

The next day was even more stressful, as Jersey City would prove to be even more perplexing. According to Google Maps, there were about 12 steps before even getting onto any sort of highway. Those steps seemed to include alleys, driveways, and airport runways, all of which seemed to have secret codes needed for discovery and entry.

So eventually, after a few thoughts of "we're never going to leave this city" we did emerge and headed up north to Interlaken, New York, in the middle finger of the Finger Lakes.

We only drove about 4.5 hours, but it was a different world. More on that later.

no other way

Being sick on tour sucks. Majorly. I kicked off the tour with what doctors believed was strep (that then moved entirely to my head), and Morgan had the same thing within a day. It was all too easy to complain: being on the road just does not lend itself to doing any of the things that doctors say to do to get over illness. "Drink lots of fluids" gets ruled out when you have a 12 hour trip to do in 10 hours; "get lots of rest" just isn't usually possible with a couch to sleep on and even more to drive the next day.

I was even more frustrated that I perhaps wouldn't enjoy our first-ever East Coast show as much as I might usually, just because I couldn't think of much outside of how annoying my throat, nose and cough were. Etc. Our first show on the East Coast just so happened to be in Newburyport, Massachussetts--about 20 minutes from where I spent the first 8 years of my life. I was quite looking forward to having three of my close friends and workmates see an area of New England none of my other friends have ever seen. But again, sickness sickness sickness. The thought I kept having was "I can imagine how much better this would be if I (and Morgan) weren't sick."

But--and this next thought may seem pretentious--I had a stoner-like revelation on the road the first day. As I was dwelling (as I do) on the annoyance of being sick, a small voice seemed to suggest... "It can be no other way." I thought about that for quite a while. It can be no other way. This was how it was. This is the way things have gone, I got whatever bug I got, and my body would just have to get over it. Things were the way they were. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it, at least in the short term.

That thought gave me a surprising peace. And it's a simple enough thought that I've probably had it before, probably forgot it, and will probably forget it again. But for now, it's brought me a great peace. And the show went incredibly well, and Morgan and I are basically better. And I can't thank God enough for the amazing things we've already experienced, and it's been a week.

I truly love you all.

-mikey