Wednesday night at the Entry, Building Better Bombs is playing a show at the Entry for Lorio Barbero and Randy Hawkins. Also, Atmosphere was the "surprise guest" for the event. Before the show, Isaac shows us his tear duct.
B Cubed get pissed, rock the Entry, Isaac wears triple-guitar shirt, news at 11.
Outside, Meghan shows us how you're supposed to smoke cigarettes when you're hanging out in front of the Hard Rock cafe. Totally heroin-era grunge model steez.
McTubbins and 1/8th of Jawsdog's head are at the show as well. Fresh from the success of Hardland/Heartland, these assholes are in a positively fantastic mood.
Friday morning, we get up bright and early and head over to 50's house. We're loading up the van to kickoff TPC's two week west coast tour. That's right, this blog becomes a travelblog starting....NOW. For the next two weeks.
Locked and loaded.
Southern Minnesota recreational boating styles. Ominous cloud formations.
A giant cows ass suspended 200 feet in the air.
Northern Iowa casino styles, midwest wastelands.
At this truck stop restauraunt, the chef is apparently a snow-covered pine cone. That is fucked. I wouldn't want my breakfast made by an inanminate descendent of a tree. It's about this time that we get the word that the show in St. Louis is being moved to Iowa City. We are stoked cause, as you maybe know, Iowa City is somehow one of the awesomest cities around.
We get into town early due to the reroute, so we head to Lake McBride, twenty minutes out of the city. It is at this very lake that Jordan lost his glasses at the beach two whole months ago. To our amazement, they were waiting for him patiently at the park lost and found. Here he is, celebrating by making a weird face.
Interesting things happen on tour. This is not one of them.
In Iowa City, Beak makes a sales pitch for the Support Broke Rappers Foundation. It's totally like that crying Indian when the garbage got thrown on his mocassins. Support your local broke rapper today.
Our old good friend Jacki Becker from Lawrence, KS has recently bought what used to be Gabe's Oasis, IC's best venue. She just finished rehabbing it and bring it up to date, and TPC are playing there tonight on one of its first night's back in business.
We still have hours to go before the show, so we go to this awesome dive bar called the Deadwood where they have $1.50 domestic taps. We get a nice afternoon buzz going. Also, you can smoke cigarettes in bars in Iowa. Genius.
They have a drink called Pussy Juice.
50's begins a quest to find Jesus. This is a pure-hearted and ambitious quest fraught with trials and tribulations. He is determined and prepared for any foe, great or small. Here, he is too intense for Bill, frightening him like a small child.
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I can see how he would be confused here: the beard, the serene smile, the religious overtones. But, sorry dude, that is so not Jesus.
A dog? Now that's just absurd. More likely than not Jesus is a dude, not a canine.
50's ends his quest back at the Picador, angry, confused, spiritally bankrupt.
Jeff hangs out with our old friend Dolla Bill. Jacki is giving everyone free tallboys. Hey, she's the owner, she can do whatever she wants. Who are we to complain?
TPC is the first band to put their sticker up on the Picador's walls. Truly historic.
Beak and Jeff are making some intense gestures with their hands, making concise and confident statements to each other while selling shit tons of merch.
Also playing this night is soul legend Andre Williams and the Diplomats of Sound. He was crazy and awesome. He looked a bit like Saddam Hussein but without teeth. He kept smacking his gums and unbuttoning his shirt. The crowd loved him and his songs about having sex with 17 year olds ("Jail Bait"). Dad, I don't know if you read this blog or not, but in the off chance that you do, I think you would've enjoyed this guy.
The legend up close and personal. Each song had about 2 lines of lyrics repeated over and over, interspersed with the band vamping for 5 minutes and Andre dancing about as actively as a 65-year old can.
Jeff drinks 4 beers at once, a new world record.
A ton of free beer + good vibes = one of the drunker TPC sets ever.
Jeff in mid leg kick.
The crowd is hot and bothered and down with the jams. That's Jacki's head whipping around in the bottom right.
Afterparty at Molly's, in the basement. We listen to the new Paris Hilton record and drink beer from cans. This is roughly what the rest of the tour will be like, probably. Each night.
Our host for the night, Dolla Bill.
The next morning we go with Bill and Bob and Urs to the Hamburg for breakfast. We form eating teams, two teams of four. We compete on awesomeness of order choice, clean plate ratio, and grace of eating style.
Serious eating competition ensues. No smiles in the group, all business.
The glorius results. We split town and head to Lawrence Fucking Kansas.
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