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Notes from the road: Euro edition

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european vacation
So, Last week I did a bunch of shows in europe. As an ignorant american, these trips are always an experience for me. I’m a man of convenience and regiment so going out of the country to mystical far off lands definitely removes me from my comfort zone. While , in the overall scheme of things, this is a positive thing for my life, it’s still fun to keep tabs of my fish out of water experiences. So, this is that. Keep in mind, I’m openly not cultured. I mean, I’m cultured in the sense I grew up in NYC and have seen a lot of shit all over the world but I don’t know anything about anything. College drop out like Whoa. So, take all i say here with a grain of salt and understand it’s coming from a good place…well…at least an honest place.

Teen tours
My trip began with a flight to Germany. These long flights are what they are but you know what kicks them up a notch? being on an 8 hour flight with 50 midwestern teenagers. Holy shit. After this ride, I felt an urge to make an earnest plea to all people my age with no kids to continue to not have kids. Teenagers are the fucking worst. I had on headphones the entire time but it still didn’t stop me from overhearing multiple conversation that would make a fertile man forcefully remove his own testicles. What i did find interesting was to admire the high school caste system at work. The dorks, the jocks, the pretty girls, the art people. That kinda shit is fascinating. If i was a slightly more driven person I’d maybe look into studying that kinda thing but, then again, it means I’d have to be around a bunch of teenagers all the time and fuck all that noise.

German street names
Honestly, a german person telling me a street name might as well be telling me to read japanese. What’s with all the letters? Why does every street in berlin have to be a 2000 point scrabble word waiting to happen? There are only so many “Miester”, “hufffflughen” and “flurgan” suffixed names one can commit to memory. Walking around a German town , i felt very much how native american settlers must have felt in the sense that my whole way of getting around was based on sight. The same way I’d imagine an indian remembering a certain bush or tree as a marker, I was like that with bakeries and Kabab stands.

Euro people know their history
I don’t know shit about history. I took it in high school and immediately forgot about it once the test was taken. It’s clear that, in the US, knowing our history is not a top priority in education. Whether this is simply national apathy or cause our history is so , in actuality, fucked up that they don’t wan’t us to know how all this really came to be, remains to be seen.
In europe though? These people know their shit. not only that, but they talk about it…all the fucking time. Like , at bars. People get drunk and discuss history. Really makes me feel like a half wit when i consider what topics i cover with friends on any given night out. Best believe world war 1 is not on the menu.
I was in Vienna for 3 days and a common point of discussion was “Nobody here like to talk about our past cause there is so much shame about the nazis” but then that’s all we talked about. Being the ignorant person I am, I barely even connected Vienna with Nazi history outside of Hitler being Austrian but, boy did I get my learn on. Then…I forgot it all…cause I’m american and that’s what we do.

Tipping
Everyone knows that , in europe, tipping is minor. 2 euro’s at most for anything. This could be for a 200 euro meal or a drink at a bar. It’s kinda nice actually cause figuring out a tip in the states can be tiresome and it always drains your wallet. That said, that whole thing where europeans come to the states and “don’t know” how to tip is bullshit. I got to europe, I knew the customs were different. But instead of just tipping like an american, I asked people…cause that’s what you do when you’re in a place where you don’t know things. So, if you’re a european and you think that it’s okay to come here and tip 2 bucks on a $100 meal, you’re a piece of shit. Just accept that.

Limp Handshakes
Do children in europe (specifically in places like Germany, Austria and Switzerland) not get taught about firm handshakes? It’s bizarre. On multiple occasions, I’d reach out to shake a dudes hand and feel like someone places a dead fish in my palm. A grip so weak it compels me to squeeze harder. The strange thing is that the girls actually give firmer handshakes then the men. Which leads me to…

Things I heard about men from Vienna
I was talking to this girl from the US who had lived in Vienna for 5 years. She was complaining about single life in austria and how hard it is to find a dude there that isn’t…well..a total pussy. This is fine and all as I’m no stranger to bitter women who can’t find a decent guy. That’s a world wide trend. But she started dropping bombs on Viennese men in particular. The best one of all? Dudes from Vienna sit down to pee. Now, this could obviously be bullshit or simply a slight generalization. But her claim was that the men there are raised by particularly feminist minded mothers. Mothers who teach them “No, you sit down when you pee. Just like me”. While i get that being a taught practice, the fact it continues into adulthood for these guys is both hilarious and wildly depressing. Take a stand guys! literally. Your dicks like a hose for reason. Just remember to put the seat up.

Romanian Airplane food
just a heads up, if you’re on a place , flying to romania, you might wanna eat before hand. Halfway through the flight I was handed a foil plate of old ass cheese, unknown meat products and wilted vegetables as my “lunch”. They also had a “cake”. A “cake” that they somehow managed to fuck up. How do you fuck up cake? It was a simple chocolate cake with frosting but it tasted more like dog food that had been run through a homeless mans lower intestine.

My preconceived notions of who likes and dislikes each other is way off
My girlfriend is Serbian/Bosnian so I’m more aware of the weird beefs between former Yugoslavian countries than I should be. Because of this, when I was in Slovenia, I kinda assumed that even saying the word “serbia” might be a bad move. Well, turns out no one gives a shit. At least no one I spoke to. That kinda surprised me cause , earlier in the week, I had seen news updates about a pending soccer game between Croatia and Serbia that was a riot waiting to happen. They apparently had like 1,500 extra security guards there to keep the peace. Granted, I was nowhere near either of those places but i kinda assumed the other countries might take sides. I mean, if the yankees and red sox can’t get along, imagine how bad a place where legit conflict took place would be But, as far as I could tell, not a fuck is given either way in Slovenia. So, that’s nice.

Europeans who don’t speak fluent english are blunt.
It’s kinda great. The amount of conversations I had with people who were huge fans of mine but still found a way to tell me which of my albums sucked was incredible. I know they don’t mean anything bad by it and I’m never offended but it’s always hilarious. I suppose tact is something you pick up after years and years of perfecting a language. It’s was a constant barrage of well intentioned shots fired for me to endure. But, like I said, i actually kinda like that it’s like that.

Romanian women are surprising
So, I’ve been all over the Us and Europe. I’ve seen most major cities. I’ve been in model filled bars in NYC and clubs in Miami full of nothing but 9′s and 10′s.Montreal, Paris, L.a. ect…However, NO PLACE i’ve ever been had a higher percentage of beautiful women than my show in Cluj, Romania. This blew my mind for many reasons Firstly, I had no idea Romanian women had it like that. For some reason i was imagining uni-browed , middle aged looking house cleaning types with faces littered with hairy moles. No clue where that stereotype came from but , hey, it was there. Secondly, this was at my show. A weird, underground, niche instrumental hip hop artist. If that’s what my show was like, I can’t even fathom what a place where actual hot people go to would be like. Like, what’s the most exclusive high end club in Cluj looking like? I’d imagine It’s enough to make a dude consider just throwing his life away and moving to Romania for a year. The craziest thing about it was the variety. You had the expected beautiful eastern european girls with dark hair, you had hot ass blonde girls and then, outta nowhere you had some Lisa Bonet looking ladies who turned out to be part gypsy. Just fantastic.So, to all single men out there, you might wanna plan a trip. Just saying. I’d say the only downside of it all would be if you’re one of those creeps who only dates asian women. If that’s your bag then you might just wanna avoid most of Eastern Europe all together (russia got some asians though…). Also, you’re a loser creep.

Swiss people with their power outlets and money
For some reason, I forgot that Switzerland not only didn’t use the euro (Swiss francs) but they also have their own plugs for power outlets. This may not seem like a big deal but , considering EVERY other country in europe (aside from the UK) works with the same outlets, it’s mildly infuriating. Like i said earlier, I know nothing about history and I’m sure there is some sort of valid explanation but what gives, Switzerland? You too good for for regular european power outlets? Your power grid is soooooo fucking special you need to complicate things for every person that comes to your country? I mean, the whole “Not using the euro” thing is annoying considering your location but , at least, you’re not the only european country on that “I got my own type of currency” shit. But power outlets? Now you’re just being a dick.

Fuckin’ up the wake up call
This really has nothing to do with europe in particular. It’s a trend I’ve noticed with hotels who offer wake up calls (though it’s happened to me in europe more often). It’s that thing where they don’t give you a fucking wake up call that you asked for. My last night there, I had just done a show in Wil, Switzerland (I haven’t heard of it either , bro). I had to catch a train to Zurich to catch my plane. Basically, i had to be up a 6:45 AM after getting back from the venue at 3. I’m a terrible sleeper and , when it comes to having to wake up for things like this, I tend to opt for the allnighter simply because trying to fall asleep for an hour gives me anxiety. So, I told them to give me the wake up call the prior day. I shut my eyes for a second but never fully fell asleep. 6:45 rolls around and I’m awake. No call. 7 am. No call. I bounce five minutes after that but…jesus…if I had not pulled the allnighter I woulda missed my flight back to the states. They would have truly fucked my shit up. The crazy thing is that’s the third time this has happened to me and each time I eked it out cause I was too nervous to sleep over the possibility of missing a flight. So, my advice to all of you who ever plan on relying on hotel wake up calls…Don’t. Especially in Europe. Placing an order for a wake up call in europe is like asking a waiter to make sure your french fires are “Extra crispy”. He hears you but he’s not listening.

So, yeah, those are all my worthless musings on this trip. All these things aside, I had a great time and shows were awesome. Especially the Eastern Europe dates. I continue to sleep on these places and they continue to blow me away with support and just genuinely good people. So, yeah…hopefully I’ll be out there again real soon. Till then, stand up when you pee. Always.

Notes from the road Pt. 7 (The ski town edition)

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Ahhh….Back up in it. The last 3 days on tour have been in the lovely state of Colorado or , as I like to call it, the land of mountains and the white people who love them.
Let’s get into it:

The wonders of Ski towns

The first two dates of this tour took place in Ski towns. Aspen and steamboat springs. As a man who does not particularly enjoy natures spoils, I’ve never been to places like this before and it was very interesting to take in from an outsiders perspective. Perhaps the most interesting thing about them to me was how they made me feel. Tired. Short of breath. Constipated. Yes, the altitude seriously fucked with me. In aspen, they had an oxygen machine backstage which I routinely sucked on for 5 minutes at a time cause I felt like I was constantly on the verge of my lungs collapsing. I was told it takes about 6 weeks to fully acclimate to the thinner air. Well, 2 days in and I was still breathing like premie.

A few things I noticed about ski towns:
1)The overall vibe was strange.
The shows went off. Packed crowds of people raging but it felt as if no one really cared what music was playing. It was more they were happy any music was playing. As a performer (I use that term loosely) , it’s a weird feeling to see a crowd who’s obviously enjoying themselves but also completely indifferent to what you were doing. I could have easily spun late 90′s R&B tracks and got the same response. Also, can Dub step just go away already? I had way too many talks with people about this genre (they bought it up). If you ever wanna see me sign out of a conversation , say the words “Dub Step” and you can probably actually see my eyes roll into the back of my head and do a 360 as my mind visibly drifts to other plains.

2)Lots of people in casts
That’s self explanatory.

3)No one works?
Ski towns are funny in that they seem to run on the barter system or something. these shows were on a monday and a tuesday and fools were getting hammered (i mean, seriously shit faced) while staying out as late as they could. It’s as if schedules and responsibility don’t exist in ski towns. It’s actually kinda cool but it’s also responsible for 40 year old ski bum burn outs who seemingly emerge from the woods once a month only to purchase lip balm and red bull.

4)Where’s the crime?
I don’t mean, why is there no crime. I know why there’s no crime in ski towns. People are either rich or stoned and getting to these places takes a lot of gas and wheels that devious low lives just don’t have. However, hypothetically, if I were a thief of some sort, I would rent a U-haul and head up to any number of these ski towns (or places like Cape Cod) during the off season and just casually rob the entire town blind. First off, when it’s off season, only a small hand full of people actually live there. I’d imagine you could tell what house is filled by the car in front. No car out front after midnight = Free shit. Something I’ve noticed about small town communities with low crime rates is that people trust one another. Thus, while the door might not be unlocked (though that’s entirely possible), I doubt they’ve got an alarm system. In fact, I’d bet you could get in through any number of windows. Not to mention, these places are spaced out. A little breaking glass isn’t gonna wake up the neighbors. Once inside, I’d imagine all sorts of tv’s, dvd players and even furniture. Fuck it. Steal an ottoman. You got nothing but time.
So, yeah, I would never do this but I’m just saying, all you travel friendly crooks out there, get on this. It’s big business.

5)The hot springs
Continuing with my ever expanding horizons, I joined my tour mates in a trip to the hot springs. In the past, my experience with things like this don’t range far past sticking my head inside a sauna before deciding I’ll pass on that steamy hot room that smells like old ballsacks. This was quite different. It was an all natural array of hot pools of water you just kinda lounge in. It was like a huge community bath full of kids and hippies. That said, it was pretty fucking nice. My old joints felt great in the steaming water and losing toxins from my body in ways other then horrific dumps was a nice change of pace. We stayed in there for about an hour. I noticed my body was kinda freaking out at points. My heart was beating super fast. Almost in a panicked state. It didn’t dawn on my dumb ass that I was totally dehydrated cause , you know, I was sitting in a pool of water. When we got back to the car to continue our drive to the next location , I felt like I had a full blown flu. Eventually I slugged down 3 bottles of water and some coconut juice and normalized but , man, why does healthy shit always fuck me up? Well, not all healthy shit. The new age-ish stuff that people in Colorado do. I personally can’t blame them and should honestly lay the blame on my body being so unhealthy that any outside interference cause it to freak out. Awesome. Basically, I’d probably feel better eating fried chicken and donuts then I would after a steam bath in some hot springs and a full body message. That can’t be good.

6)Are hotel pranks some new things?
Two nights in a row, my roomie and I were awoken at 6 am cause some motherfucker had set the alarm on the radio clock the night before. In two different hotels! who does that? I’m all for pranks but where the fun when you don’t get to witness it. Serious cocksuckery , right there. Last night, we stayed at a hotel with paper thin walls. About an hour after our 6 am alarm clock wake up, the person in the room next to us put on their tv and turned the volume all the way up. The shit was blaring. I could literally follow the plot of whatever CSI they were watching cause I heard every word. This went on for three hours until the cleaning lady knocked on the door. Apparently, this unbelievable asshole had left the tv blasting right as they left the room. You know, just because. Infuriating.

Anyway, we played Fort Collins last night and it was awesome. Non ski-towns for the win! I got a whole separate blog i’mma write about a funny conversation I had with some drunk girl cause it really deserves it’s own discussion. Word.

Notes from the Road pt. 6

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Ok…Let’s see what we got.

Buffalo- don’t remember
I’m sad to say that our show in Buffalo was so long ago, I’ve pretty much forgotten any interesting details. I know if was a good show. I remember that…but that’s where it ends. That’s kinda what happens on tour. All the dates tend to blend into one another unless something sorta crazy sticks out. I did eat some Buffalo wings while I was there though. That was good.

Asheville

Asheville is a funny place. It’s as close as you can get to the northwest in the south east. In my opinion, it’s strikingly similar to Portland. Meaning, great food, tons of young people ,tons of hippies and a blind love of all things “Art”. I think what separates Asheville from a place like portland is the slight east coast influence that crept in. Sure, there are dread locked matzoh’s (I’d like to coin that phrase for rich white kids of possible jewish descent with dreadlocks) all over. That’s a given. But what about the super awesome old timey throwback Whigs? For a guy like me, it’s a breath of fresh air to see some kids in actual baggy jeans and a polo hat tilted to the side. It takes me back and asheville had a nice amount of them.
Another thing I noticed there was an abundance of hot tiny girls. By this, I mean packs of 5 foot tall girls who are all hot and partying hard. While this may seem great on paper , seeing these little crews bounce around really nailed home how old I really am. In the grand scheme of things, I’m still young. But in this world, I’m rip van fucking winkle. It’s sad to say but I’ve officially hit that wall where you see 21 year old girls and , while you wanna fuck them in the most broad sense, it’s just not something I could realistically do (if I were single, of course). I feel like an uneasy dad watching these drunk little things bop about the room. I bummed myself out just writing that but it’s the truth. Perhaps, this is what adulthood is all about. Who knows? All I know is this feeling certainly doesn’t carry over into the porn i watch so I guess it’s not that bad.

Charleston

I got a lot to say about this place. This one’s gonna need bullet points

1)Too many pounds
This isn’t just a Charleston thing. It’s actually a nationwide phenomenon. but I noticed it a lot while there. This is when, I’m chilling at the merch booth and some drunk dude comes up and chats with me. Very typical and totally fine. But what sometimes happens is said drunk dude spins out of control into a world where he feels like he much give me daps every 5 seconds. It goes like this:
drunk guy says something
I respond
daps
drunk reiterates what I just said
daps
I nod out of sheer confusion
daps
and repeat about 6 times.
That shit is tiring.
The biggest offender of this , however, is the drunken promoter. The show is over. It went well and this dude is acting like we just saved the world together (not this particular promoter in Charleston, I’m being general here). Pounds, hugs, deep emotional gazes. After a while, it honestly get’s really uncomfortable.

2) Charlotte?
There was a small controversy over whether or not I called Charleston “Charlotte” on stage. Apparently, I shouted out every one in Charlotte. Well, I didn’t. I swear. I actually made a special effort not to do that cause I was definitely thinking it. Unfortunately, I made matters worse when I got home an tweeted
“Hey Charlton , NC I definitely didn’t call you Charlotte today on stage. I swear.”
Oops. Oh well. Peace to Charlton. He was awesome on The Fresh Prince.

3)Worst crowd members ever

Every now and then, you get some real pieces of shit at your shows. The crazy thing is, I’m not talking about people who don’t like your music. No, I’m speaking of fans who simply don’t know how to act. At the Charlton show (Fuck yall, I’m rolling with that), there was a group of kids in the front row who were just fucking awful. In their defense, I’m pretty sure they were tripping on something but whatever. Master your high, dipshits.
Basically, it was three dudes and one girl in the very front row. The girl was the highest. Extremely high. The dudes were more just obnoxious. A word of advice to show goers: When watching someone perform , don’t attempt to have a conversation with them. I really can’t even wrap my head around this one but it happens every now and then. People literally asking me questions while I’m , for all intents and purposes, working. I get why a complete idiot might make requests. I’m on my laptop. You don’t know better. You think I’m DJing. It’s incredibly rude and annoying but I get it. However, the convo style is the worst. At one point, the drugged girl ran up on stage and sidled up to me. She said hi and asked me “What’s up?”
Oh, nothing, just performing in front of a crowd, you? She then asked for a kiss and get pulled of stage. I appreciate the enthusiasm but people need to refer back to the rules of proper conduct. You know, that shit you were taught growing up which let’s you know it’s not okay to shit in the middle of the street or punch strangers. The same rulebook has extensive chapters of interacting with other humans in all sorts of situations. I suggest you guys pick it up wherever thoughts are had.

That said, the actual show was great and it was a fun time. But, you know, writing about that shit isn’t entertaining anyone.

Athens Georgia

This is one of those diamond in the rough cities down south. amidst all the frightening southyness of the south (I’m a yankee, that stuff scares the shit out of me), some cities pop up and seem enlightened. Kinda like Austin in Texas. Basically, that whole stereotype just means “A city in an otherwise conservative area where people like art”. Well. Athens is one of those places. They’re always fun to play in. I really have nothing too crazy to report from here. oh wait…yes I do.
Winner for most shady bathroom at a venue goes to….ATHENS! The bathroom itself as fine. It was more the occupants that made it shady. Every time I went into pee, there was an assortment of dudes just chilling in there. In the piss covered, shit smelling bathroom. Now, normally, I’d just assume these were coke head types but they were not doing any coke. They were actually selling crack. At a fucking Emancipator/Blockhead show. These dudes were chilling in filth, offering up the lowest of low drugs to everyone patron who needed to pee. Motherfuckers need to figure out their demographics. Sure, people do drugs at my shows. People do drugs at all shows. But crack? Really?

Flo-rida

We hit up Tallahassee and Gainesville. I was fairy frightened of both these places as all I know of northern Florida is what I’ve seen in the movie “Bully” (was that even in northern florida?). I was expecting the trashiest meth head kids possible who would try and steal my Mac book while I was on stage performing. This is also partially due to the drive to Florida. When you see the places in between the cities, it’s really disheartening. I usually start getting skittish around the 3rd pro-life billboard. Or perhaps it’s the mystery hotel/eatery/who knows what named “The plantation” that kept popping up. “The plantation”? You sure you really wanna go there , Georgia?
That said, these shows were actually great. One thing I always forget is when you hit smaller markets, the people come out. Not only do they come out, but they are just happy to be there.
Tallahassee was awesome except for the smoke machines. I don’t know why people like things like smoke machines or strobe lights. I never will.
It’s like people want to smell like your grandma’s house and have seizures. Kids these days with the grandma smell and seizures!
Gainesville was a bit of a shit show. It turned out good but it was one of those situations where whomever put it together didn’t really plan very well. Thus far on the tour, we have been playing music venues with things like stages and a place for an audience to stand. In Gainesville, we pretty much show up to a nightclub with a Dj rig in the corner. It was a nice club that the owner assured us was high class and didn’t let in “Gangsters” (I’ll let you decipher that one yourself). After hours of figuring out how we’d stuff this large stage show into a DJ booth, we all just kinda shrugged our shoulders and hoped for the best.
Fortunately, it was awesome. Packed wall to wall with dancing kids. Very intimate. It played like an awesome house party. There were people just hanging over the booth while I played. No one got out of line though so it was fine. There was , however, one dude who stood motionless at the side of the booth , intensely staring at me the entire show. I mean, I feel like he didn’t break focus on me for more that 3 second of the entire hour. He was just sitting there, chilling in my periphery the whole time. I half way kinda thought he was gonna kill me , but only out of love and wanting me to be his very own personal musician. Luckily, that didn’t happen and he gave me a very normal pound at the end of the show. If that dude is reading this, I’d just like to say thinks for not killing me and in the future you should break your stare more often. I’m glad you like my shit but it’s a little creepy.

Also, shout outs to the guy who told me he reads this blog and the other guy who asked me if I was selling any Party Fun Action Committee Cd’s. Oh, and this crazy dude who got my old album art tatted on his arm:

That shit is ill.

Notes from the road Vol. 5

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Continuing on…
After the Burl, we hit Boston. Going there is always bittersweet for me cause I spent a little time there in college. It’s the only place I ever lived for more than two weeks that wasn’t NYC. That said, I hated it. But, i was young and being 18 in boston is pretty much pointless.
In the past, I’ve talked a lot of shit about boston. While i do think it’s wildly inferior city to NYC (or even the Burl), it’s definitely not as bad as I paint it to be. Here are a few little notes about that show:

1)Anti-yankee sentiments are strong.
In NYC, there are bars you can go to that will be Pro-Red Sox bars. This kind of offends my inner sports fan but I get it. NYC is a huge city full of people from all over. Pretty much every team has it’s “bars”.
In boston, this is not the case. Most New yorkers don’t move to boston, and if they do, it’s under some sort of compromise they came out short on. There are no Yankee bars in boston. There are nothing but pro-Red Sox bars. But it goes deeper. They go beyond just “Go SAWX!”. some of these places are actually covered in anti-yankee memorabilia. The place we played at was one of these types and the whole show I had to look over at a huge picture on the wall of CC Sabathia getting mushed. I’m not even a crazy yankee fan like that but it did, somewhere in my psyche, annoy me , as a New Yorker. But , whatever, haters gonna hate!

2)Hold my stone
As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not into hippie shit. I don’t dislike people who are but I just don’t get it. At one point in boston, this girl comes up to me and asks me if I want to “hold her crystal”. I gave her a puzzled look cause, you know, why the fuck would I wanna hold her crystal? She explained to me that it was some special blah blah blah from the mountains of blah blah. I was like “uh..ok”. and she vanished into the crowd. So, I’m sitting there feeling like the hippie guru version of the guy who holds his girls purse while she tries on dresses. Ten minutes later, she comes back, very pleased with herself for allowing me the gift of holding this rock for her. She says some more crystal related wizardry and went on her merry way. Strangely, two days later and my scoliosis has totally cleared up!
Just kidding. I don’t have scoliosis. However, when i washed my hands later that night they were fucking filthy. Thanks magic crystal!

3)I’m not Anthony from Brooklyn
I dunno who’s doing press on me but they’re seriously dropping the factual ball. I’ve had no less that 10 people come up to me and greet me as “Anthony” and ask me if I still live in Brooklyn.
Allow me to clear the air on this one.
While my name is technically “Anthony” , no one on this planet has ever called me that since I was born. I find it weird when strangers call me by my first name in general but at least get it right. Tony. You know, like “uncle Tony’s coloring book”. That’s me. I’m an uncle and I’m Tony. Anthony is some other dude.
As for Brooklyn , I have no clue. I’ve never claimed to be from there. Not even close. In fact, I’ve been pretty open about being from downtown Manhattan (some might say I’ve been obsessive over it, during my career). I chalk this up to some music writers being lazy and just assuming anyone who makes music in new york lives in Williamsburg. But , trust me, the quickest of google searches about me would reveal the truth on that one.

Moving along…
The next day was a show in Brooklyn. I have a love/hate relationship with performing in my hometown (i’ll include BK, as my Hometown even though it’s kinda not). On one hand, I love being home as much as possible. On the other, NYC crowds have never been that great for me. I don’t blame them as, after all, I am one of them. I’m the guy at the show sitting in the back with my arms folded. I can relate to not getting live at shows. Another downside to performing at hometown shows is that all my friends come. This is cool and all cause I love my friends but lets be honest here, my friends don’t listen to my music. I respect them for that but it’s just not their thing, They know me far too well to take anything I do seriously. So, while they all do come out to support, they either end up doing one of two things. Chatting in the back (like I would if I went to my own show) or going up front and yelling shit at me the whole show. While the latter is pretty funny , I can imagine the screams of “Blockhead! you’re a huge faggot!” might rattle anyone around them who doesn’t know these people know me and don’t know they’re kidding. Then the actual fans are there completely confused that a group of people bought tickets to my show and got up in the front , to simply berate me while I perform. I take it back. That’s kind of awesome. I would just prefer that to remain a thing only my close friends do.
Some notes on the BK show

1)well, i don’t wanna brag…
But we sold that shit out. I’ve never had an NYC headlining show that both that well attended and that awesome. A sincere thanks to all who came out.

2)Fart jokes
I was talking to this girl at the merch booth who was pitching an idea for me to score a short film for her. At one point, she brings up that she has read this blog (who knows, she might be reading this right now). Just for your information, I love knowing people read this shit. It’s more satisfying when someone tells me they love this than they do my music cause this shit is truly a labor of love. Self important, dickedheaded love, but love nonetheless.
So, this girl tells me she reads my blog and they proceeds to tell me all I write about is bowel movements. I jumped in and said “You sure you’re not talking about my twitter?” as my twitter is rife with insights to what happens when feces leaves my body. My blog though, while at times filthy, hardly centers around my shits. I mean, sure, I’ve said things on here about that kind of thing. But I’ve said a lot of things on here. I’ve spoken about shitting way less than I have my feelings about getting older or my love of olivia munn. I’m just assuming she read that one entry I wrote a while back where i detailed how my digestive system works using lil wayne’s music catalogue as a metaphor (this doesn’t actually exist).
I’m just saying, I’m admittedly low brow at times but I refuse to be written off as all fart jokes on here. Gimme a little credit. I do pussy jokes too.

Notes from the road Vol. 4

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So, I’m now 5 dates deep into this tour and everything has gone great. So well, in fact, I kinda wish I had more to complain about simply for the sake of this blog. But, like any curmudgeon worth his salt, I think I can find some shit to bitch about.
Let’s see…

The first stop on the tour was Milford, Connecticut. You may be asking yourself, “What is that?”. Well, it’s a town where they paid us to come to perform on a tuesday. Can’t be mad at that. It was a small venue with a friendly staff. Usually, the first thing we do when we arrive at any venue is check for internet and find the greenroom. This place had both. Unfortunate for us, the green room was basically a 2000 square foot attic with no heat. If my internet addiction is ever questioned (why would it be?), I think I could submit a photo of myself , in full winter gear , huddling over my laptop and twittering about how fucking cold I am.

Anyway, the show went well. For a tuesday in Milford, I think we killed it. Two little side notes about this though:

1)When work bro’s attack.
I was sitting in the back of the venue at the merch table (like I always do). As Emancipator played, I noticed something funny in my section. There were about 15 fresh from the office bro’s and bro-ette’s getting absolutely shit faced. Dressed in full office attire and drenched in the scent of unhappiness and submission, this group lined up shot after fruity shot as they intermingled with one another all while a show was going on. Now, here’s my deal. This venue was obviously a place where these types frequent. but there was a $15 door fee and super loud ass non-Dave Matthews related music playing. Meaning, they came there, and paid , on a tuesday night just to get drunk. This speaks either volumes about them or about Milford as a place where the choices are few and far between, I haven’t really decided which one it is yet. But, I will say this: obliterated , questionably gay (but definitely in the closet), arab , not quite a midget but close , business dudes are EXTREMELY entertaining to observe dance. It’s a serious whirlwind of oddity.

2)The flagrant GF
After my set ended I greeted some fans and just hung out for a bit. There was this one girl there who I had noticed earlier , not cause she was hot (She was attractive but…) but cause she looked 14 years old. The more of these shows I do the more I realize how out of touch I am with how old people look. This girl was tiny and just extremely young faced. The kind of girl they might use as bait in a “To catch a predator” sting operation. Anyway, she approaches me and immediately starts in. she lives in NY (the Bronx) and goes to school in city and want to “Party” sometime. Now, for me, this is always a weird situation. In my mind, she’s obviously trying to get down on some level without overtly saying she wants to fuck. Being that I have a serious girlfriend, this kind of this isn’t really an option. The thing is though, I don’t really wanna get into the whole “I have a GF” talk with this girl who very well just may go away any second. It’s one of those tiny problems that could easily fix itself if I just play it nice until it’s over. At one point, she basically rapes my phone number out of me (I’mma get into this a little later). While this isn’t the end of the world (My phone is filled with numbers of people I’ll never speak to who did a similar thing), it is always slightly unsettling. I don’t know this girl. She could be a total stalker and could find where I live. I sometimes think in extremes so the thought of How I would explain this love lorn woman/child to my girl if she shows up with a bottle of whiskey , wearing nothing but glow sticks and panties definitely went through my head.
Anyway, the transaction was made and I was just gonna play it as it goes. About an hour later, she texted me , reminding me who she was and reaffirming that whole “LEt’s PARTAY!” offer.. I put her in my phone as “Annie (not her real name) the 14 year old)”. While I could have ignored her text, I opted to nip this in the bud. I wrote back that I had a girl and I dunno if it would be a good idea to “party” with her. She responded with a chuckle saying “Hahaha…It’s all good. I have a BF too. We can hang. Bring your lady!”
Umm…ok. Weird response but I felt more at ease as it was clear this wouldn’t become an issue. I wrote back some simple “haha….cool!” type thing and I figured that was that. The next day , I wake up with two texts from her. One was just some “so did you have fun at the show!?!?” type shit but the other was gold. Pure, flagrant , shitty girlfriend gold that should haunt any man in a relationship with a girl of even the most vaguely loose morals.
It read (i’m paraphrasing here) : OMG, My BF is so lame. I got home and put on lingerie and heels for him and he told me to go to bed. We should totally hang soon…”
Now, it’s nothing that crazy. But the mind of young girls is fascinating…and evil.
I later found out that that girl was at the show with her fucking boyfriend. She did all this shit right under his nose. Ughh…suck to be him. I might also add that she wasn’t even a “Fan” of mine. She was seeing and hearing me for the first time. So, that leads me to believe , if she was actually a fan, she might have actually raped me live on stage. Shit’s real, bro.

The second show was in Burlington Vermont. A place I have been a few times and always had a great time in. It’s a touch hippie for my taste but, to be fair, everything that isn’t concrete is a touch hippie for my taste. The show was one of the best shows I’ve ever had. But, that’s neither here nor there.
Let’s get into the minutia of the matter.

1) THE BURL
If you follow my twitter , you may have noticed me going a little overboard pushing an agenda. That agenda was christen Burlington with the hipper and shorter nickname The Burl”. Every city needs it’s nickname and how this one has slipped through the cracks is beyond me.
“No doubt son, I stay up in the Burl 24/7″
“Yo, b, you hear that nigga got shot up in the Burl last night?
“Oh my god, I ate the best french toast in Burl! It had homegrown , organic winkleberries in it!”
That just rolls off the tongue.
I ran it by a few people and it was shot down pretty hard. But, Burlington-er’s, I beg of you, reconsider. It’s just too perfect.
Regardless of what you motherfuckers say or think, you will forever live in The BURL as far as i’m concerned.

2)Bearded children
One thing that stuck out to me about The Burl was how old the young males looked. We did an all ages show and anybody with and “X” on their hand was under 21. The amount of “X” handed dudes I saw with crazy full beards was insane. Dude walking around looking like emo paul bunyun yet can only order sprite’s at the bar.
I’ve been to plenty hippie towns before but there must be something in the water out there. Or they got a case of “Burlamin buttons” popping off.

The phone rape

This isn’t related to any show in particular but more just explaining what happens when you do shows.
Since when did it become ok to ask strangers for their phone number? I don’t mean guys asking girls and vice versa. I mean random fans thinking I wanna just give out my personal phone number to anyone who’s ever made a demo before. It’s really strange to me cause I never would consider asking someone for anything like that. Especially someone I was a fan of. it’s one of those obvious code-of-conduct life rules that you assume all people just naturally follow. But, alas, some people walk to a beat of their own drummer. A weird, off beat drummer with terrible manners.

Notes from the road Part 3

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hobo
I caught an episode of “The Price Is RIght” while chilling the hotel. What the fuck is up with Drew Carey? He lost tons of weight and is slowly morphing into Bob Barker…except Bob Barker never looked like a scarecrow with full blown AIDS.
Watching this show also put how out of touch I am with the prices of things. Being that I really only buy food and drinks I had no clue a brand new Porche, A huge pool table, a million inch flat screen TV and whole entertainment set up would only cost like $70,000. I would have guessed $250,000. And this is why I will never win on The Price Is Right. That and Plink-O is obviously rigged.

Merch booth placement is crucial. Ideally, you want a spot near or within view of the stage. Preferably, off to the side. The last few shows I’ve done the booth has been in another room. Like waaaaay in the back. Sure, this might cut into sales a little but if people want to buy shit, they’ll find you. It’s not like they stuffed me in a broom closet. My beef with distant merch booths is that it opens the door for people to corner you. I’m sitting there, way in the back. In a room or section with no other purpose for people to be in except buy shit from me. But , instead of buying shit, people sometimes use it as a “come up and talk for a 45 minutes” booth. i actually don’t mind this usually cause , for the most part, people are cool and I do like chatting people up (particularly when I’m a little drunk). However, there should be a ten minute limit to anyone chatting. ESPECIALLY guys. I don’t mean that in a “I’m trying to get pussy” kinda way at all. I’m just saying the people who set up camp in the merch booth tend to be dudes who wanna talk at length about everything. I’m down to bro-down and all…just not all night.

On a similar note,
Every now and then you get a dude who’s in it for the long haul and , pretty much always, you find out this dude is a promoter of some sort. God bless promoters. It’s a shitty job where you deal with shitty people and put on , mostly, shitty shows. Especially in small markets with unestablished scenes. It’s a labor of love for sure. But sometimes, they gotta know when to keep it moving. Chances are, if i’m performing in your city that night, it’s gonna be a while before I return. Trying to book me for a month from now isn’t helping anyone. And If i give you my booking agents info, use it. There’s a reason he and my manager exist. It’s so I don’t have to deal with any of the business side of music making. It’s the worst part and the more involved you get in it, the less fun making music becomes. So, to all promoters who wanna chop it up at shows, let me just write out what my part of the conversation will be like

What’s up man,
Nice to meet you.
Oh , word? I’d love to come do a show at _____ (your city here)
holler at my booking agent Colin@alliancebooking.com.
Cool.
Thanks.
Peace.
Now, unless you wanna talk about porn or basketball, we’re about done here.

What’s the deal with super high toilet bowl? I’m 6 feet tall and the majority of shitters I’ve sat in at venues have been so high I’m on my tippy toes. I feel bad for you short guys. It must be like shitting on a barstool. a literal BAR-STOOL. Get it? sorry…

Notes from the road part 2

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So, we had to drive from Portland to San Diego. well, not “we” , as I don’t drive anything. I actually got to sit in the back and play some awesome IPhone game called “angry birds” for like 5 hours while everyone else dealt with traveling. regardless, we left Portland on sunday morning and arrived in S.D. monday night. Not too shabby.

Speaking of San Diego, I strolled around the Ocean Beach section and I kinda felt like I just walked into a hypodermic needle filled with piss and hackey sacks. That said, the burrito I had was fucking amazing and only cost 4 bucks. From the limited parts of S.D. I have seen, it reminds of the beach in the movie Fletch. I don’t feel at all unsafe but the majority of the people I saw were definitely not familiar with bathing and hygiene and there is a palpable low life aura to the place. The thing is, I can see how that could happen out here. Everything is cheap. The beach is right in front of you. All you gotta do all day is sell a few glass pipes a day by the sand and just kick it. One of the dudes I’m traveling with, who has lived in S.D. in the past, said how the young girls here are the hottest but once they get into their early 30′s, they start to age double time. The beach will do that to a person, I suppose.

You know you’re old when you tell someone you’re age and they say “no way! you look way more like you’re 29″ and they are being completely sincere and complimentary.

Speaking of things you know, you know you’ve been eating like shit when you get a hold of some grapes and feel, by eating them, you’re doing your body some great health filled service. Grapes. They go really well with M&M, Nerd ropes and potato skin chips.

And finally, the worst fan guy ever.
At the show in San Diego, there was this one extremely drunk dude. That may explain his behavior to an extent. I’m willing to give him that much.
This dude rolled up to the merch booth with a weird sense of entitlement that you rarely see coming from a dude who looks like the nerdy best friend on every 80′s sitcom. He did this thing where he was hot and cold. At first, he’s throwing extreme praise and the next second he’s yelling at you for some shit that isn’t even real. Our conversation started with him telling me how much he likes my music (That’s cool) and slowly drifted into him being mad at me for never playing Seattle (which I had played three days earlier and during the summer). Turns out he “knows” promoters and they’ve been “calling” “me” forever and I’m an asshole for not returning calls. First of all, I have a booking agent and a manager that handles all that shit. I explain this to him and he can’t let go of the “How come you never called me back?!?!?!” sentiment. This goes on for a while and he explains to me that he knows DJ Shadow , but he’s just “Josh” to him (Cool story , bro) and that he also works for Pitchfork.com so I should give him free cd’s. I explain that it doesn’t work like that and Pitchfork has never really given a shit about me anyway so that point doesn’t quite cut it. He then threatens to give me bad reviews on pitchfork (Super cool story, lying bro) and, without missing a beat, asks for a free cd. He was eyeing this $5 tour cd I have. I reject the awesome offer once again until I eventually get $4 out of him just so he’ll go away. He does (after about 15 awkward pounds and minor insults) and was later seen pouring beer directly on the cd I sold him. So, yeah, Fuck that guy.
Dude, If you’re reading this, I hope you’re not that much of a complete dipshit in everyday life and that you were blackout drunk. Honestly, I would believe that was possible, so if we cross path’s again, no hard feelings (but if you’re really anything like the person I met last night, please never come anywhere near me again).

Notes from the road

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Three days down…

Just a few notes:
I was at the merch table in Seattle and some kid straight up gave me forty bucks. He told me he had illegally downloaded all my albums and he wanted to repay me. That’s pretty much the coolest shit ever. Perhaps this will become a trend? (in my fucking dreams)

I did a fair amount or arm signing last night. Like 3 or 4 different arms. Still trying to wrap my head around the functionality of that but , hey, whatever floats your boat. Signing tits makes WAY more sense.

I ate Jack In The Box for the first time ever today. This will not become a trend.
While waiting for my food this weird goth/metal/hip hop hybrid guy asked the guy at the register if the sirloin burger was good. Understandably, the register guy was thrown off by anyone asking questions concerning the food quality of Jack In The Box. He lied and told the hybrid kid it was good. The kid bought 2 of them. SALESMANSHIP IN EFFECT.

I’ve heard some pretty funny pick up lines thus far.
My favorite being in Bellingham, WA when a girl asked me if she could trade me something for a cd. Seeing where this was going, I kinda just played dumb. “like what?” I asked. Her offer? Breakfast. Smooth. I politely turned her down and she stormed off calling me a “Cock blocker”. Definitely the first time a girl has called me that, particularly referring to my very own cock.

Hotels that are crappy but livable (Econolodge level) have very shady plumbing. Flushing twice to make a piss go down the toilet is a bad look. Especially when you’re not pissing.

I know it’s cliche but to say I’ve been eating badly in an understatement. And it’s not your typical “fast food every day” kinda thing. I’m more speaking on my own inability to not get the worst fucking thing on the menu. Why on earth did I order the bacon covered mac and cheese for dinner last night?
To be fair though, my homeboy who we were eating with (who is actively trying to eat healthy) ordered the “buffalo chicken salad” which is probably about as healthy as drinking cocoa butter.

Last night all the dudes I’m touring with and I crashed at some really nice big house in Portland. I actually have no clue who’s crib it is but I do know that I just woke up on the bottom level of a child bunk bed. I hope this kid likes the smell of whiskey farts.

That’s all for now…more to come.
California, we’re coming…