We got to Portland, but I never got the boots. We did get tosee Sunny Day again, which was ultracool. They're such nice kids, thoseSunny Day boys. When we got to the venue, they and the Shudder to Thinkkids were standing around, and much hugs were exchanged. Jeremy fromSunny Day requested we do "Sugar Free Jazz" in sound check. Nice toknow when you're appreciated by those fine Sunny Day kids.
Backstage, the Shudder to Think stage guy, known to us and the world asAngry Dave, was sitting on the backstage couch with his arms folded."Why are you so angry, Dave?" we keep asking him. He's a medium-heightdirty-blonde guy with dreadlocks.
"I'm not angry," he always says, raising his eyebrows.
At some point in the middle of Sunny Day's set, Angry Dave very calmlywalked up to the side of the stage, removed his coat, and then suddenlyran out between Jeremy and Nate the bass player and dove into thecrowd. Five minutes later, he emerged, looking as serenely angry as healways does.
On to Seattle, Land of Sunny Day. We did a radio interview on KCMU,with a cat named Mike D. (different guy) who asked us all these cogentquestions about the differences between East and West Coast hiphop.Weird how some people consider us a hiphop band, others a rock band. Wedon't really consider ourselves to be anything. Mike had us grab CD'swe wanted to play, and sometime after we put on the Jungle Brothers'"My Jimmy Weighs a Ton" some guy called up, asking bewilderedly, "Ilove you guys--why are they playing all this music that sucks?" Weberated him. Afterwards, Mark did a point-by-point dissection of thesamples in "Sugar Free Jazz", pointing out exactly where the samples ofthe streets of Hong Kong and the escalator at Macy's were. I wanderedthrough the CD shelves, found my girlfriend Maggie's CD, and stole apicture of her off a CD single of hers. Love is weird, G.
(Just as an aside; people keep sending me e-mail asking me to confirmthis rumour that Infamous World Renowned Award Winning Poet MaggieEstep is my girlfriend, and she is indeed. We started really seeingeach other when the Soul C's were touring with Cop Shoot Cop--she wason tour with her band opening for Hole at the time, and for a while wewere trailing each other on the road. Gus would drive me out toRochester to see her when we were playing Buffalo. It became sort ofthe tour miniscandal--Cop Shoot Cop's shirt-selling guy came up to mebackstage in Detroit, and, completely out of the blue, said, "So--doesshe talk a lot?" Uh, no. Why?)
That night, the house was packed. The backstage area apparently used tobe a gym--there were all these awards and citations pertaining to theNational Drug-Free Youth Powerlifting Association on the walls. DaveGrohl was wandering around back there, and Gus walked up to him andsaid "Hey, Nirvana Boy." Gotta love that Gus.
We've been played on the radio quite a bit up there--I can always tellthis during "Screenwriters", our Big Spoken Word Radio Hit. When I getto the part where it goes "...and the radioman fucks a model too,"everybody goes nuts. He said fuck! He said fuck! As opposed to thetowns where they haven't been bombarded with the radio version, whichmutes the bad word in the middle. In those towns, everyone just looksslightly confused at the sudden profanity.
I drove around with a friend of mine afterwards, listening to the bigCommercial Alternative station. "Screenwriters' Blues" was number 7 or8 on some sort of Big Countdown or other. "That was Soul Coughing, aband from Los Angeles," the DJ said. I made my friend stop the car. Igot out, went to the payphone, looked up the radio station request linein the yellow pages, and called the DJ. "Um, I just wanted to clear upthis misconception that we're from Los Angeles," I said.
"Oh, uh," the DJ said. "How was your show?"
During Shudder's set, there was a dramatic pause in the middle of oneof the songs. Craig, Shudder's flamboyant lead singer boy, lookedaround the house coyly.
"I FUCKING LOVE YOU!" some guy yelled.
Startled, Craig looked up and seemed to compose some kind of rejoinderin his mind, and was about to say it, when the guy screamed "YOUFUCKING ROCK MY FUCKING WORLD!"
Sunny Day's set was uncanny. They are truly an amazing band. There'ssomething about watching them live that brings every pinch ofheartbreak you've ever felt in your life to the surface. William, thedrummer, is perhaps the most emotionally intense drummer I've ever seenin my life. He looks lost when he plays. Between songs he just sort ofsits there behind the drums, wild look in his eyes, looking like he'sabout to collapse, his hands covered in blood. He gets so worked upthat steam actually rises from his body. I kept thinking--Hey, isWilliam on fire? But in fact, it was just his sweat transforming itselfinto a ghostly form and wisping away.
At the end of the last song of the last encore, the chords crashed intoa single shimmering note of feedback. Dan, the guitar player who won'tgo to California, put his guitar down and walked offstage. So did Natethe bass player. William just sat there, looking like someone had toldhim the most horrifying thing anyone had told him in his life. Jeremywas mumbling something into the microphone, squeezing that one note outof his guitar. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but it soundedlike a prayer.
And then, as this amazing band does every night, William snapped thecymbals and bolted offstage; Jeremy put his guitar down, did a meeklittle wave and smile to the audience, and walked awkwardly away.
Everybody hung out backstage for awhile; it was pretty emotional. Wewere flying to Europe the next day, while Shudder and Sunny Daycontinued across the U.S. I hung out with Stuart, the Shudder bassplayer for awhile, talking about all the women we were too nervous totalk to at the show in Austin. I went upstairs with my friend Sara andwatched Jeremy sheepishly sign autographs on peoples' bookbags. Imyself signed the left leg of a trembling blonde girl's jeans--Jeremyhad signed the right side. If we ever get out of this idiot musicbusiness, Jeremy and I, I think, are going to make buddy moviestogether--Jeremy and Doughty, Toughest Cops On The Street.
"You know," Sara said, "I met Jeremy when I was working at K-Mart. Hecame in to buy some sort of action figure that I helped him find. He'slike a little boy. I hear he's a born again Christian."
I went over to William, who wrote his address down in my address bookwith bloody hands.
Ten hours later, and we were all standing around the SeaTac airport,checking our baggage and contemplating the long flight over the NorthPole to London. It was this sort of weird contemplative moment betweenall of us--very quiet, but very communicative. It was kind of thisrealization that here we were, and this was our life. I think it wasgradually dawning on us that this band was slowly turning into a sortof family.
Next week--exciting adventures in London, Amsterdam, France, andBeyond.