Astra Heights Redux

GLASSHOUSE AUGUST 9 . . . POMONA IN HINDSIGHT

LEILANI HERE.

I love bookstores, especially bookstores that sell used books.  Let me plug my new favorite one: The Magic Door IV, in Pomona, on East 2nd Street, just a block down from the Glasshouse in Pomona, where Astra Heights performed on August 9. Mark and I visited there while we were waiting for the May Fire and Monte Negro to arrive for load-in last week. 

The couple who run the Magic Door are super-nice, super-supportive of the bands who play the Glasshouse, and fans of Astra Heights.  As soon as they saw Mark, they put Good Problems on the stereo system and introduced themselves:

Of course Mark ran down the block to tell the first people he could find that Astra Heights were celebrities in this town.  The first two people he found were, luckily, Bernard and James, who eagerly returned with us to the Magic Door to bask in the glow of appreciation.  While they were at it, they signed a poster and had their pictures taken as well.
I just want to point out here that Bernard is wearing a sun visor.

And that James seems to be comparing his build to that of the mannequin in the window.

Here are the proprietors, Dwain and JoAnn Kaiser, unflanked by Indie rockstars:

Mark exploited his fame to get a free copy of a Vonnegut novel.  Shameless, he is.  In any case, God bless the independent bookstore owners and indie musicians among us, all.

As we strolled back to the Glasshouse, we passed some local heroes performing on the sidewalk.  Because they were performing a truly original rendition of Queen’s “We Will Rock You,” I had to take a photograph for posterity.  This woman did, indeed, rock me.

Then I bought James and Mark each a big giant beer.  Now we were ready for the show.

The May Fire played first.  Wish I had some pictures of them, but . . . . well, it took a while for James and Mark to finish those beers.  That’s how big those beers were.  Then Astra Heights came on. 

I find myself increasingly interested as much in photographing the audience these days as I am the performers.  Here’s a shot of the fans at the Glasshouse enjoying our boys:

And while I’m at it, here’s a shot of the audience two nights earlier, at the Knitting Factory: 

Look at Striking Tall Bald Man glancing away in an endearingly self-conscious fashion, once he notices that I am photographing the striking tall bald men in the audience and not the striking little hairy guys on stage.  Meanwhile there's bass player Rob from the May Fire right in front wearing his customary, mysterious Mona Lisa smile.  Is he amused at the band on stage?  Admiring?  Or simply enduring my camera flash with apparent good nature while inwardly he's fuming at my ass-backwardness?  But my favorite is the guy behind them to the left, in the striped shirt, looking so interestingly serious.  He’s quite stern.  Is he intrigued?  Pissed off?  He looks a little like he’s wondering why the heck the white girl stage center is obfuscating everybody's view with her stupid flash camera pointed in the wrong direction from the performers. 

Anyway, back to the Glasshouse.  Here’s a picture of Bernard wondering why the heck the white girl stage right is obfuscating everybody's view with her stupid flash camera:

Here’s Annette, one of our favorite Astra Heights fans dancing in ecstasy to her favorite band:

And hey, who are these two hot mamas (literally, as in actually hot and sweaty and actually mothers to Djuna, Poppy, and Ana)?:

After the last song of the Astra Heights set, before Monte Negro headlines, Mark directs the audience to “Stay tuned for the May Fire!”  Here he is explaining to El Pipe and Cat from the May Fire why it is that he thought they should have been granted the opportunity to both open and headline at the Glasshouse, Monte Negro be damned:

And . . . . . Huh?---

Darn, my flash malfunctioned just as, in a perverse game of role reversal, Bernard was getting his chest signed by an Astra Heights fans wielding a blue sharpie.  Sorry, ladies.

And here are some shots I took of some wholesome Astra Heights fans, none of whom asked to sign anybody’s chest (that I know of . . . . but you never do know):



Oh, and here is Poppy Yaeko Appel-Riehle, in spirit if not in height the biggest Astra Heights fan ever—or at least drummer Joshua’s:

Well, Mrs. Morales, those Astra Heights boys are cute and all, but they ain't got nothing on my progeny.

Timothy has left the building.

LEILANI HERE.

As a non-member of the band I  have no business writing about this, maybe.  Maybe one of the guys should write about it.  But none have so I'm going to.

Some of you already know that we have come to see the passing of an era in the life of Astra Heights.  Little brother Timothy has officially decided to remain in the Houston area and pursue a solo career.  He is now an ex-Astra Heights boy.

I have not spoken to him since I heard the news because I am so sad.  I think I better wait a little bit or I'll just end up conveying how much I wish it weren't the case.  When he was first planning his "leave of absence" to Houston, I told him I was mad at him: "You're leaving me!" I said, half kidding, because I have an abandonment complex and because of course what everyone does is all about me. 

"No, Leilani, it's like a month and I'm coming back," he said. 

"You better," I told him.  Now he's not.

But I'm not mad.  The man's gotta do what the man's gotta do.  I get that.  Still, I'm sad. 

In September 2006, my husband and I separated.  In February of 2007, while everything was still fresh, Mark and Timmy needed a place to stay and came to live with me for a little bit at Westgate.  (Westgate is what we call the palatial manor of which I was once the Lady).  I met him once one fine summer day when he was off to play soccer with his brothers, and then he was suddenly my roommate. It was with Timmy and Mark that I had the First Fun: hanging out, laughing, talking, and generally having such a good time that I first realized, "Hey!  I can have fun again.  Right on!"  I have an especially vivid image of sitting back on the couch next to Mark while Timmy regaled us with his perfect blow-by-blow re-enactment of Michael Jackson's video for "Rock with You."  I also remember struggling with a tough bag of potato chips for about 25 minutes, crinkle crankle crinkle crankle, wondering when this noise was ever going to cases, when Timmy aburptly grabbed the bag.  "You need some help with that, Leilani?" he said.  Smarty pants.  He then proceeded to struggle with it for ten minutes of his own.

He'd only been living there for about three days--hardly knew me--when I got a terrible email that just broke me up.  I was crying.  Timmy was the only person in the house.  Timmy plopped right down next to me like he'd known me forever and held me.  I think of that impulse as very typically Timmy.

My daughters call Timmy the Tickle Monster.

Oh the things we're gonna miss.

No more of his cute twisty-shuffling-feet dance, the one that makes him look sometimes very sexy and sometimes like a chicken imitating James Brown.

No more of those death-defying sunglasses at night, on stage.

No more interactive guitar playing.

No more of the things he says to his brothers about Babes on tour that I'm not supposed to hear because I'm a lady.  Old Eagle Eyes.  I go, "Timmy, what did you just tell your brother about that girl?" and he goes, "Oh never you mind, young lady."

Timmy always rallied us for Apples to Apples (or "Apples and Oranges," as, to his mirth, I always used to mis-call it).  Notice we haven't played Apples to Apples in a very long time?

Timmy, if you're happy, then I'm happy for you.  But I'm going to miss you.

Little tidbits from a big night.

LEILANI HERE

This is the Astra Heights blog so of course I’m gonna write about me.

Last night Astra Heights played Musexpo at the House of Blues.  People were blown away.  After the show, I overheard one man say, “They’re like Queen . . . he’s like Freddie Mercury reincarnated, but better!”   

Better than Freddie Mercury?  Hell yes!

While Astra was setting up for their show, I overheard another man talking to his girlfriend.  He motioned towards Mark’s legs and butt, as Mark was bent over plugging something in. 

“I want those jeans so bad,” he said, “I want to rip them right off him.”  And with that, he clenched his hand in a mad scientist, mou-ha-ha-ha kind of maneuver.

Another time, towards the end of the evening, I passed the photographer talking to a man in dreds.  “You missed Astro Heights?” he asked.  “Too bad, man, they blew everybody else away!”

“I keep hearing that,” said Dreds.  “Astral Heights?”

“No, man,” the photographer corrected him: “Astro Heights.”

“As in Astro Turf?” asked Dreds, clearly baffled by that final vowel in the second syllable—not an unusual predicament, I am sorry to say.  Jonesy played the Astra Heights cover of “Don’t Bring Me Down” today on the radio and then announced, “That was Astral Heights doing their cover of the classic ELO song.”

“Right!” said the photographer.

At that point I remain the silent observer no longer.  I was excited they liked the band; I couldn't just leave them there, for all eternity mistaking our boys for something akin to rolling hills covered in fake grass.

“Actually,” I said, “It’s Astr-AH Heights.”

“Ah,” said the photographer.  “That’s better.”  Dreds nodded in agreement.  “So . . . did you see them?”  he asked me.

“Oh yeah, they’re great aren’t they?”

The photographer says to me, “I saw you in front . . . do you know them?”

“Yeah, I blog for them," I said. 

“Awesome!” said photographer.  Photographer, if you’re reading, thank you for being so enthusiastic.

Later Dreds walked up to me.  “I been watching you,” he tells me, “and I don’t have a line or anything, but”—he gestures towards my white coat—“You got a great look.  I really like your look. Your glasses, your coat, your everything.”

Okay, stop.  I willingly admit I’m including his comment here in order to show off.  Being complemented so fiercely by a complete stranger doesn't happen every day.  Unless you’re a member of Astra Heights, that is.   Moreoever, I am never more flattered by anything a new guy puts out than a complement to my style.  Don’t tell me I got a great body (which I do, and I’ve had two kids!); don’t tell me I’m pretty or cute  (yawn); don’t even glance at my T&A (what little there are of them)—these are acts of God for which I can claim no responsibility.   But my style?  Well, if they get my style, then we’re onto something.

I crack myself up.  Am I cracking you up?

I invited Dreds to the Swinghouse party on Saturday.  I’m not on the market, but he was such a nice guy, and it’s going to be one heck of a party.  Dreds—whose name is actually Will, a good name—if you’re reading this, thanks for stroking the ego that is otherwise so bruised and battered by those cruel heartless rock stars I hang out with.

As for the cruel and heartless among you—you played the House of Blues!  You rocked a full Foundation Room!  You set the Musexpo crowd ON FIE-UH!  Touch you, you sizzle.

What a night.

TALLY:
Drinks I bought for people: 3

Cigarettes I gave away: 5-6

Mints: None.

Musical instruments I retrieved: 1 (A tambourine.  I had to cut through a crowd in the green room to get it, just as AH was about to go on.  “Excuse me!” I announced as I made my way, “Emergency tambourine retrieval in progress!”  That worked pretty well.)

"Blocks": 1, unintentional

Drinks bought for me . . . 1 (from Melanie, thank you babe!)

Number of super cute, really nice musicians with great names like “Stevie” (or was it Scottie, Mel?) speaking in brogues from all over Britain and her former colonies: too many to count. 

I'M A WINNER (or a cheater, depending on who you talk to)

Leilani gets excited about AH on Jonesy's Jukebox and writes--you guessed it--a blog about her excitement.  Click here.  

SXSW Survey

Leilani in an email to Astra Heights: "To recap SXSW. You have fifteen minutes to answer.  Look at the clock.  Go!"

1.  When you reflect upon your state of mind during SXSW, what word first comes to mind?

• James -  “Blurred yet focused”
•  Mark – “party.  duh.”
•  Bernard – “Blurry. Mostly from the meds I was using to keep my back pain at bay.
•  Joshua – “Yikes...”
•  Timothy – “insanity”

2.  What were your favorite 5 minutes of all of SXSW?

• James – “Dancing with family and friends at Project Jenny Project Jan”
• Mark  – “standing on bench watching everyone dance to Project Jenny Project Jan”
• Bernard – “Crossing a small bridge near the lake and seeing turtles and fish sunning themselves between shopping carts and old tires.”
• Joshua – “Dancing during the Project Jenny, Project Jan show on our last night in Austin.”
• Timothy – “eating with my family”

3.  What were your least favorite 5 minutes of all of SXSW?

• James – “At the end loading gear on Sunday morning after being completely spent physically and mentally”
• Mark – “walking to hotel room and being stopped at 5am by two lame dudes in lobby.”
• Bernard – “Driving around looking for a place to eat and returning to almost the exact place we started from.”
• Joshua – “Trying to work out having to pick up one of my cymbals that was left at one of the bars we played at.”
• Timothy – “loading and unloading gear”

4.  What was the funniest moment of/made you laugh the hardest at SXSW?

• James – “Way too many to recall”
• Mark – left it blank
• Bernard – “Seeing Gionne roll her eyes.”
• Joshua – “Probably seeing our friends from L.A. who were there wearing cowboy hats and actin' a fool!”
• Timothy – “hanging out with some of my friends from highschool”

5.  How many hours did you sleep while at SXSW?

• James – “Total around 20”
• Mark – “more like how many minutes”
• Bernard – “Enough actually.”
• Joshua – “Not enough”
• Timothy – “i don't know of this sleep you speak of”

6.  Which show was your favorite to play and why?

• James – “Definitely the Scoot Inn, it was a little after noon, everybody was tired, there weren't many people except for the people working the bar, but the energy within the band felt so awesome and we sounded exceptionally good.”
• Mark – “VIMBY, no pressure, no big crowd, just us like we are in rehearsal.”
• Bernard – “Our proper showcase at Lambert's was solid.”
• Joshua – “Our official SXSW showcase at Lambert's BBQ. It was crowded and I was amazingly relaxed and ready to go.”
• Timothy – “my favorite show was our showcase at Lambert's BBQ, because they had these amazing blues musicians rocking out upstairs”

7.  What did you miss the most while you were on the road?

• James – “I'm going to be sweet here and say I missed my significant other.  It was truly a memorable experience and it would have been great for her to have been a part of it.”
• Mark – “my kid-robot, Remy.”
• Bernard – ““Sanity”
• Joshua – “My girlfriend and family”
• Timothy – “i missed that beautiful california weather, but i found ways to compensate”

8.  How much did you drink?

• James – “More than 10 times my body weight”
• Mark – “a ton o' beer.”
• Bernard – “Not much.”
• Joshua – “More than I should have, though it wasn't much”
• Timothy – “enough to make Dionysus look like a light weight”

9.  What did you drink?

• James – “Lots of Shiners, Lone Stars, and Red Bull/vodkas”
• Mark - Mark – “just beer man, ton of cheap beer.”
• Bernard – “At one party we attended, the drinks did flow and I had a gina nd tonic, mojito and bloody mary. All were excellent not to mention free”
• Joshua – “Mixed drinks and a maybe one or two beers”
• Timothy – “anything and everything that was handed to me...but i do recall having a vodka that was infused with chocolate and cherries. Needless to say....it was the bomb diggity”

10.  Describe the moment when you were drunkest (that you can remember).

• James – “At some party at SXSW, and the outside patio floor was covered in wood chips which made it really hard for me to walk without looking like a new born baby deer.”
• Mark – “was never that irresponsible..too many people and places to meet.”
• Bernard – “Never got drunk. Who do you take is for Motley Crue?”
• Joshua – “I didn't really get drunk while I was there. I kept it very moderate.”
• Timothy – “walking with my friend Derek to our other friend's apartment, but not before stopping at 711 to buy a 1/4lb. hot dog and a dozen of donuts. Tasty”

11.  What piece of clothing did you wear the most at SXSW?

• James – “My jeans, I will hopefully be wearing them everyday until the next SXSW.”
• Mark – “I pretty much wore the same outfit every minute, hour and day of the festival.”
• Bernard – “Sunglasses”
• Joshua – “Pieces: Black jeans, black hoodie, black jacket, black boots”
• Timothy – “some black jeans that were beyond the point of return”

12.    Name the 2 best bands that you saw.

• James – “Scissors for Lefty, Project Jenny Project Jan”
• Mark – “Scissors for Lefty, Project Jenny Project Jan”
• Bernard – “Shane Alexander and Jenni Alpert”
• Joshua – “Mieko from L.A. (I think that's how you spell her name), and Project Jenny, Project Jan.”
• Timothy – “project jenny/project jane and von iva”

13.  Share something that either Phil, your mother, your father, or a sibling said to you during SXSW.

• James – “I can't remember exact statements, I was just happy to have them all there.”
• Mark - “Mark, Eagle Eyes 12 O'clock.”
• Bernard – “Phil said "Just give them the hits!"
• Joshua – “My brother Phil (At Lambert's BBQ): "You guys should really thank the soundguy, man, he mixed you guys PERFECT." ... I did find him and thanked him”
• Timothy – “my mom asked me if i wanted to move back to Texas”

14.  What did you like best about the city of Austin?

• James – “The laid back casual feel, yet people are very active cause there are so many things to do outdoors.”
• Mark – “everything.  I miss that city”
• Bernard – “Cool people and good food.”
• Joshua – “The use of limestone in the old buildings.”
• Timothy – “seeing everyone being themselves....and BBQ!!”

15.    What word best retrospectively summarizes your experience of SXSW?

• James – “Insanity”
• Mark – “fun busyness or funny business...but that's like more than one word.”
• Bernard – “Wish I brought my fishing rod.”
• mind?
• Joshua – “Nice...”
• Timothy – “is it possible to describe such a spectrum of glory and excitement in one word? i think not.”

Day after the Showcase

Leilani here.

So in keeping with tradition, let's begin this blog with Timothy's lady friend Kristen again, who so kindly let so many of us stinky touring people sleep on her floor so many nights:

She is hot, isn't she?  But don't get any ideas.  She has a boyfriend.  Even Rock-star Timmy knew he couldn't charm her away from her one true love. . . . Thanks Kristen for everything!  I said it before and I'll say it again: You are one bad-ass woman.

So the day after the showcase began with a mellow show at the Scoot:

Everyone was feeling good from the triumph of the night before.  There were also many felines roaming the premises:

Cool Cat #1:

Cool Cat #2:

Cool Cat #3:

Because the gig was at midday after a late night for basically every person in Austin, things got off to a slow start.  So there was some waiting to be done.  Some of us used the time keep abreast of our correspondence.  Here are some text-crazy maniacs:

Once the show got started, the band was nice and loose:

Being at the same level as the audience was a nice change, and Mark and Timothy responded by breaking down the fourth wall and coming out into the room to dance, play, and sing.  Mark wore himself out and ended up spawled on the floor, a dance move which, infortunately, was not photographed.

The next stop was the Cedar Door.  This was an outdoor venue under a tent.  Once again, the place filled up just before Astra Heights began to play and the show was rip-roaring fun.  It was also a great photo-op.

Loyal friends Sarah, Gionne, and Bree.

Girls on FIRE!

Second oldest brother and original Astra Heights member, Philip, with his wife Alyssa and the baby girl they'll meet soon.  As I understand it, this is the guy who wrote the guitar riff in "The Whole World Changes" which Bernard later customized for the new line-up.

The ever hospitable Andrew and Lorraine.  Thanks again, you two.

The band onstage for their penultimate SXSW show, the one all of these fine people are spectating.

Phil, band manager.

These are two of my favorite buddies.  There's Marcus, who I hope to marry someday, and James's best friend ever since high school, Bobby.  Does Bobby look a little crazy?  That's because he is.  But a handsome kind of crazy, dontcha think?

The whole gang: Tyler (LA), Kristen (Austin), Timmy (AH), Bree (San Antonio), Mark (AH), Sarah (LA), Bobby (Houston), and Dave (LA).  Marcus (Austin) peers over the top.

I can't tell you how much I love this picture: Liz, Marisa, Rebecca, Rachel and, in the background, my future husband Marcus.

We saw two bands after these pictures were taken that I thought were great: Nico Vega and Scissors for Lefty.  Another great day for the boys at SXSW.

Day of the Showcase

LEILANI HERE

So Wednesday after all the partying, right before we got to Kristen’s to sleep, Melanie is driving the van with James in front and Kristen, Timothy, and me in the back.  We’re getting a bit lost because it’s late and Melanie’s tired and there seems to be some strange skepticism about whether or not Kristen can get us to her own home.  Why do I say this?  Well, she offers some directions and James, with the enthusiasm only a few to three dozen beers can provide, blurts out,

“Kristen, you’re so fucking lucky you’re hot, otherwise I wouldn’t listen to you.”

Hmmmmm. . . . there's a lot that could be said about this particular statement.  I'll leave it to you. In any case, we laughed at James uproariously, Timothy came to Kristen's rescue, Kristen rescued herself, and I promised to blog it and, hopefully, embarrass James a bit.  So there.

As I said, we slept at Kristen’s.  The next morning, Thursday, was blissful.  I woke up among friends, they dropped me off at a coffee shop so I could write that first blog (3/13), little birds were singing, the sky was bleu bleu bleu, a whole day of adventure was just opening up.  I wandered the city alone for a while, soaking it all in and reveling at all the strange mishaps and coincidences that brought me, Dr. Leilani Riehle, ex-married mother of two and professor of Victorian literature, to this juncture in time, roaming a pretty, music-soaked city under a blue morning sky with soft fresh wind tossing everything on the streets all higgledy-piggledy.  God truly does work in mysterious ways.  Thank goodness.

Anyhow, Astra Heights were scheduled to play at the Orchid in the late afternoon.  Here they are sound-checking:

And here they are warming up their voices and soundchecking:

They really do start to function like one mind and body after enough time on the road.  I'm saving the dirtiest examples of this phenomenon for my book, however.  You'll have to wait.

The Astra Heights audience continued to grow.  By the 4.45 pm show, a good pack of listeners had arrived.   Look:

Aside from starting right on time, at 4.45, only to be shut down unceremoniously because the band in the other room was running late, and then starting over minutes later, the show went smoothly.  The guys seemed satisfied:

And then, the next thing you know, it's time to load-out and take off for Lambert's where load-in is just minutes away.

Ah, Lambert's for THE SHOWCASE.  The boys were tired, the day had been pretty exhausting already, and the venue seemed to be quite some distance from the heart of SXSW.  Hmmmmmm. . . . .on top of that, this is the band who showcased before Astra Heights.  Look at the crowd they drew!

They were very tight, they reminded me of the Ramones, and for some reason I imagined that all four of them were life long buddies who now taught at the same high school.  I had an English teacher whose single act of ongoing baby-boomer rebellion was to refuse to ever wear a button-up shirt and tie.  Instead, he would wear an ironed t-shirt neatly tucked into his pants, which were belted with thin black leather and a little brass buckle.  What a wild-and-crazy- anti-establishment guy, right?  Ditto for these guys.

There were two people in the audience during these guys' show and four people after.  It was a little nerve-wracking, waiting for the venue to fill up, but fill up it did indeed.

Notice Josh is carrying around his stool.  He does that before a show, kind of like a baseball player will wear his underwear backwards or tape the same photo to his midsection to ensure the continuance of the winning streak.  Josh carries his stool around so that it looks like a platter for his head.  It's just one of those Joshua things.

And the Morales/Ramirez beauties arrived!  Check out these stunners:

That's cousin Rachel in the hat, then cousin Rebecca, then Liz (a sister), and cousin Marisa who, by the way, is about three inches away from being a licensed medical doctor.  Brains, beauty, and bad-ass attitudes . . . these girls got it all.

The Morales family showed up en masse and joy filled the house.  Spirits were high as Astra Heights took the stage.

They launched right into it.  Literally.  Bernard jumped--I'm not kidding--about 3 and 1/2 feet into the air for his first guitar blast.  It was a spectacular show.  I don't think they could have wished for better.  Even the evening's big mistake was a gem: for the last song, Choices, Mark steps up to the mic and softly sings, "We are filling up the hours. . . " but can't figure out why the band isn't in sync with him.  "Hold on, start over," he says, the band members look at each other, Mark turns to the mic and this time sings . . . . "We are filling up the hours . . . "  Wait, his face says.  Something's not right!  I'm singing the wrong song!  So he returns to the mic with a big sheepish grin, opens his mouth, and . . . can't remember the first words.

"Maybe I should leave," Bernard reminds him.
"How appropriate," Mark laughs  "Maybe I should leave."

The photos of the performance and afterwards are compiled in a photo album in the sidebar.  But, really, if you want to get an idea of how good it felt to watch Astra Heights that night, just take a look at these two:

Mr. and Mrs. Morales, proud parents.

An action shot.

And a mother and her boys afterwards, triumphant:

With the showcase behind them, now Astra Heights' real fun begins. Watch out Austin!

Astra Heights Landing in Austin

Leilani here.

Here’s where the chronology of this blog gets a little weird.  I am on the airplane back to LA, after a night in Houston with the Morales family, after four nights of madness in Austin for South by Southwest.  I am not exaggerating when I say that I do not think that I am the same person I was one week ago. I feel elated and excited, but also my internal organs feel pounded and swollen.  Especially my heart.  It was an intense expereince, seeing my dear friends endure and conquer SXSW.  However let’s talk about that later and get down to the nitty gritty of the Astra Heights universe.

In my last blog, our heroes were left resting in front of the boob tube.  We had all just arrived in Austin from Tulsa, after the Incredible Sean Askandari drove all night.  He did a superb job.  Once or twice I was jolted awake by a big swerve just in time to see that we were swishing back and forth over the double yellow lines or popping a donut, but, heck, it’s a big van and not easy to drive.  All’s well that ends well.  He’s my hero and, I suppose after everything he’s done for the band on this trip, he’s their hero too.

We had ended up in Austin at the crack of dawn.  The guys had a live performance and interview on Austin’s Fox TV morning show, scheduled to take place in a coffee shop called Progress.  While we waited for the Progress to open, for reasons that I can’t remember—I was too tired—I got out of the crowded van and went to lay down on a bench like a homeless person, that’s how tired I was.  Bernard came out and spread a blanket over me.  Thank you Bernard.  Finally the shop opened and we were all let in from the cold crack of dawn to enjoy the warm cozy aroma of brewing coffee.

The TV piece entailed the guys playing some live songs there in the middle of Progress—who were hosting a different performer every morning all week—answering some questions, and looking really really cute and wholesome.  Here you go:

Our next stop was another coffee shop (Rio Rita?), this time to do an interview for an online web magazine called LUSHLIFE AUSTIN (LUSHLIFE HERE ).  The woman who interviewed our heroes was a blonde looker with a deep husky voice and a short, short skirt, but needless to say our boys were immediately distracted from these attributes by the razor sharpness of her wit and the depth of her intellect.  And she was both hot and smart.  For me the highlight of the interview came when she said a random word to each member of AH, in response to which they had to reveal the first word that came to mind.  “Avocado,” she says to Joshua.  “Van!” Joshua bursts out.  James cracks up.  Well, we had been in the van a long time. 

After the interview:

Then we packed up and headed over to the convention center, upon which tour managers and their musicians were converging by the van load.  There the guys registered to pick up their wristbands and badges. Having been on tour for two weeks already, James automatically makes music to his registration card rather than writes upon it:

As you know from the last blog, the next stop was at cousin Andrew and Lorraine’s, who live in a suburb of Austin and who were gracious enough to welcome us for showers and rest.  After recharging our batteries, we went back downtown and dove into SXSW with a vengeance.

Oh what a night.

Tim tries to get in touch with Kristen, a family friend who turned out to be one of the bad-assest mamas in the South. Kristen, we can never thank you enough for your graciousness, your hospitality, and your golden Southern heart.  Anyway, while we check out 6th street, James is toting around a plastic bag of Mark's underwear because Mark got separated from the lucky speedos he wears for every performance and feels naked without them.  Our first stop is Volume, to see Oliver Future.  As it turns out, there is NO PROBLEM with the cover charge situation (Phew!).  I pay my $5 and walk right in alongside my wristband-wearing, badge-toting superiors.  We settle in with some Lone Stars, say hello to the singer, and the show begins. 

James clearly enjoyed himself.

The show is great, Mark appears for his underwear, and we set out for the next band.  James and Melanie check out Delta Spirit while Mark kindly offers to see a more non-wristband-wearer aeccessible show with me, Goldspot at Buffalo Billiards.

Fun show, but the highlight was:

AMBER AND ERIC!!

That's right ladies and gentlemen, it's a small small world.  Here you have old friends, two of which hail from Texas, all of which relocated to LA and who are so busy they get their quality time in by meeting in Austin. 

Next stop, the Dirty Dog, where we see the Happy Hollows who hail, as I understand it, from Silverlake.  When  the lead singer stepped out--and you can't tell here, but she was wearing black knee high socks and sneakers--you could hear "Hot hot hot hot hot hot" murmured with varying emphases throughout the crowd.  Or maybe it was just who I was hanging with.
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For me, the highlight of this show (sorry, Happy Hollows, as hot as your lead singer is and all) was spotting the singer and drummer from Foriegn Born.  Lucky for me I was inebriated enough to introduce myself and enjoyed the pleasure of their conversation.  Go out and buy their album ON THE WING NOW, now.  Before things can get too cozy, though, James appears and informs us it is time to go see the Parlor Mob (TPM's Myspace page).  After the show, we meet guitarist Paul, who further reinforces the idea that there is a genetic link between height and heavy guitar wizadry (cf. Daniel Davies in Year Long Disaster):

You can't tell from the picture, but James is actually standing on a chair.

At this point it is about 2am in the morning.  You'll be happy to know that I did, indeed, find a place to lay my head--the dear Kristen's place in Austin--along with James, Melanie, Timmy, Bobby, and Sean.  She fed us macaroni and cheese and popcorn, we put on a movie, and out like little lights we went. 

Night-night Austin until Wednesday morning.  To be continued . ., . . .

open practice

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