Maximum R&B (epic narrative of my weekend)

Since Wednesday, it's been non-stop, my droogs. I'm fucking burnt out, seriously.

Wednesday was the OC photos. I'm not so into getting photographed, but Laurie seems to be pretty cool. I think that I screwed up my neck posing.

Thursday night was Bad Luck City's big bad tour to Fort Collins, where we played with Badman (who are awesome). The 'tape' of the show sounds amazing as far as the band goes. The vocals sounded shitty, though. I had fun.

Friday was a fucking painful day at work. I'm glad that I don't do that shit every day. It was a special occasion.

Friday night was the baddest show in town: Reverend Deadeye (who's learnt hisself some tricks on the road), The Omens, Badman (killer set), and us. The Larimer Lounge has two blown monitors at the moment: stage right and the drum monitor. Uncool.

Saturday was picking up Mesa number two at the shop. Next, I killed some time with LRC (I wanted to buy her lunch but she had other plans). Then, it was off to the BLS band rehearsal. We're going to pull this shit off. Live music needs a little danger to be exciting to play (I think that Steve Harris said something like that once). I went home and got myself drunk (finally).

Sunday was agonizing over rehearsal tapes and then delivering 'em to BLS. Then I went to LRC's where French toast was waiting for me (with a couple pounds of bacon). Killer. We screwed around and went to the rock-stick-mega-haus because I needed another rack case for numero dos. We ate chinese food and watched Clue (I hadn't seen it through--just bits). I passed out and got a nice little nap before going to rehearsal again. We rocked.

I'm fucking tired.

I Was In This Acid Rock Band Once, Part II

I'm thinking that we require a full-time light-artist after seeing the new photos from the Overcasters MySpace page. Perhaps Phil the Fan is available since the demise of the 15th Street Tavern?

I am dying to see that video, though. I had to close my eyes and count because of the fuckin' LED strobe--there was no "playing at the speed of light" to be done. I could still discern the kick drum with minimal monitors (thank goodness for a good PA).

The video that I saw on the camera reminded me of this:



The cam video was in color, though, and K looks more like a rock-and-roll-bad-ass (tm) than Syd Barrett ever did.

The bass looks HUGE in this one. Muchas gracias a Tom Murphy for this photo. I might have to use it for the ugly bass player gallery (I love the oil projection on K's shadow...Hey! Tidwell is in there, too):

Monster Cables Suck, String Cleaning Gizmo, etc.

The hinkiness of Monster Cable isn't any real news to me, but I was starting to get annoyed. Luckily, the offending cable was found out--it seemed to be cutting out when the loud drums were hitting the hollow body. This caused the jack to vibrate and short the hinkey plug.

I've never been a fan of molded plugs. Mine are usually Rapcos (or Horizons, as the case may be) with Neutrik plugs. Switchcraft (more expensive) makes a good connector, too. My cables all have the lifetime warranty, but I usually just cut 'em up once they fail (so no 'lucky' trashman attempts to use 'em). Expensive, oxygen-free wire, silver solder and shit just isn't a selling point for me. Maybe for studio wire (a la Greg), but not for a live rig.

After the cable silliness, practice was pretty okay. It'll be better next time because the momentum won't be lost.

I got called out on dead strings! I really don't think that anyone listens to my playing, much less my tone. The current set was a week old for the Meadowlark show (I usually change 'em two days before a show, but BLC is okay with dead dead strings, so it's optional). They're just a little over three weeks old, and grimy enough that intonation is fucked up. Unfortunately, playing this much means a $20 investment in strings every other week. What to do?

The internets learnt me about this. Nichols turned me onto this denatured alcohol research. Boiling strings is stupid. I used to do that when I was a teenager (poor), but it only works for about a day with Rotosounds; the silk wraps come off, too. Now that I'm using medium-gauge los cheapies (sans silk), recycling strings seems to make more sense. This weekend, in an absinthe-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder blur, LRC and I built two of "the bass string cleaning tube." She's pretty handy with heavy inhalants like PVC cement. We needed two wine corks for the project as well, so we drank ourselves silly.

I'm cleaning my spare set at the moment. I'll switch 'em out for practice on Wednesday. I need to save $20 in strings to break even with this gizmo. It seems reasonable. If it works, I'll give one away to some poor SOB (sorry ol' bassist).

Indeed, if the gizmo works, I'll probably switch back to stainless, with the relatively short (couple of days) half life. They start out brighter than nickel wounds, but when they start to die, you're done.

For Linda Ruth...

or others that aren't so into the Poison video-o-rama....

My Brother, Dr. E-dogg, was totally into the Poison. Our father trasheed all of those records because of the 'sex on the beach' from the 'open up and say ahh' record. Anyhow....here's the shit from él señor de amor a la roca:

Actually...it's all about 'talk nerdy to me,' LINDA. Think that I require a lime-green B.C. Warlock, really:




Indeed, I require a Warlock (and lots of cocaine);...is that the RATT or Randall sound?!? Priceless '80s video (love the Newman-lookin' father):



Overcasters require more choreography; certainly for the videos. 'F'J.N. certainly has enough banjos to pull off nonsense such as this:



Classic...I require some crazy brunette groupie (I love 12-string anything):

Triumphant

I'm all keyed up from practice this evening. The new one is really going to be something to listen to once we're not tentative. The crash-endos in the bridge really get me off. Seriously, though, playing with these people has become really easy. At first, it felt a little forced, but now, notsomuch.

Maybe I'm just not playing beyond my means enough? I'm trying to do interesting, complementary parts--leave lots of space in the verses; explore some counterpoint harmony stuff; nail the unison melodic parts; play nice with the drummer.

Here We Go Again

Should be a good time, y'all. No knife throwing this time, though.

Ellos me llaman el hombre de trabajo

• Was almost jumped by a pissed-off English Mastiff with large testicles.
• Called 911 when a dude hit a fence as well as a tree and was unresponsive to other dudes.
• Found a 30-gallon sack of weed in a dumpster.
• Made flyers at Kinkos.

I actually think today turned out pretty okay, even if my body is killing me.
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Now playing: Mogwai - Glasgow Mega-Snake

Show Post-Mortem; Gear Gripes

It wasn't horrible, but not perfect, either. I was fucking stunned when some people thanked me during dinner with my sweety (across town) later in the evening. That was really strange for me. I think that I maintained my coolness and was pleasant.

I had a moment of unfocus during "Love, It's Not Working." I was getting far too into it. The tempos were agonizing on some of 'em. It made the BLC feel like speed metal. A guitar player missed a few critical pickup notes on a solo (put on your surprised face). I missed loud drums a lot, seriously. All in all, though it wasn't too bad for two full practices and one power trio practice (that one sounded great).

Three shows in the last month or so with three different bands...that's pretty good in my book (the rules).

Post-shows gear gripes:

My SWR 1x15" sucks (we all knew this). That one is relegated to practice cab status. I don't even trust it to deliver after it fucked me on that recording session. I hate that. I can't hear it on stage.

I can't bitch about the electric grandmother too much. She's served my dumb ass well for years. I ought to check the speakers, though. Kurt wanted to do that a while back, and since they're the originals, it might be a good idea. I hate my lame tolex repairs. It's a little lacking in the low end, but kicks like a mule. If I replace speakers, I think that I'll put a couple of different kinds in there.

My Acoustic Control Corp. 406 (that ugly ass 2x15" that used to be in PMFS) sounded really smooth and nice with a little string noise; just how I like it. Apparently it was shaking clothes 20' out (just how I like it). I might transition that one into the OC when no one is looking. It needs work, so I'm moving that up in my projects list. Many of the bass players on the lists seem to be doing the Line-X thing for durability. I can dig that. Tolex gets hurt too easily, and Ozite isn't even an option if you have pets (although I've fired cat junior, feline number one is still here, for a time). The sound guy, Don, accused me of being "one of the loudest bass players in Denver." Also, he said it was a "killer rig." Awesome.

My Booger was solid, although I need to get it into a shop to fix those 4-ohm outputs and punch it up with some 6550s (probably while the mighty Tarmints are out conquering the west coast). It's not loud enough for the OC, and I'm so not into solid state sounds. If I can eek out 50 more watts, I'll be cool, at least until some damn fool guitar player gets a bigger amp or a new booster pedal. I really could get a couple of big amps going just for the OC.

My Orange One needs some help--American made is too weak for my playing, apparently. She's going to get a new brass nut, a new bridge, and new pickups (duncans or rio grandes, most likely) when she's not looking. Okay for BLC, awesome for the OC, but it wasn't the right bass for 4 a.m. because the g-string is too bright. I should've turned down the treble, but I wanted crunch for the loud part. Ah, hindsight....

I need to get a bypass box for the tuner. I've seen schematics on the internets. That pedal is a little tone-robbing asshole, and the output jack is all fucked up (too much beer).

Got some bass projects, for sure. That'll keep me amused on the cheap for a month or so.

Unbeknownst To Me, I Was In This Acid Rock Band Once.

I hope that y'all are snowboarding on reality.

I have to copy and paste these (emphasis removed) reviews so that I have a record of the buzz from the first show to read years from now. They're mostly complimentary, I would say. It's quite amusing to me that the perception is that we're so psychedelic (that's the name of the record).

Linda Ruth Carter:

countdown over

expectations uncountable. zero disappointments. I wrote that on the Overcasters Myspace page early this morning within hours after their first public show.

The September 1 show at the Tarshack promised to be a memorable event. There was: artwork (equal parts beautiful and eerie layered glass paintings by Monofog's Doug Spencer); the world famous DJ, Tyler Jacobson (who didn't like my musical requests but played them anyway); knife throwing demonstrations (yes, really, knife throwing, and no, no injuries); the always interesting and and ever eclectic sounds of Pee Pee; and the formidable and impressive sounds of the hard working Mothership. All this would make for one good night if it ended right there, but at the top of the night was what I was most anxious to witness: the debut of the Overcasters.

I've been waiting patiently for a good many months to hear this band. Well, actually I've not been entirely so patient. Hearing about these songs for weeks (and weeks) but never having the opportunity to hear an actual note of any one of them...I began to get a little tetchy. I teasingly dubbed them "the Overpracticers."

But it was worth the wait. Over-rehearsed they are not. Talented and together is what they are...the result of time and effort well spent. Erin and Jeremy construct a rhythm section so tight you couldn't slide a piece of onionskin paper between the sounds then John and Kurt's guitars make a palpably dynamic layer floating just above that. You find yourself moving without thinking about it. And the vocals--lemme just say to those who've only heard Kurt sing a Tarmints song, you might be astounded at the downright pretty treatment he can give a song.

As happy as I was to finally hear them for the first time, it feels like I'll find more to love with multiple listens. And I hope that number will be beyond count.

Tom Murphy:

Overcasters (1): It might be a bit premature and biased for me to write about this band since they really have only played one show. But it's kind of a cool supergroup instead of the usual lame kind. In their line up are: Kurt Ottaway (Tarmints, Twice Wilted), Jeremy Ziehe (Bad Luck City, Red Cloud, Mr. Madonna, See Cities From Space), Erin Tidwell (Cowboy Curse, The Hot House and Tobias Jupiter/The Flashbangs) and John Nichols (Shrill, Munly, Tiny Television and The Birthday Girl). What kind of music? Like Echo & The Bunnymen with more rock and roll mixed in. More psychedelic and of course there's Kurt's signature sometimes quavering but always assured vocals. Great band in the making. But Kurt doesn't tend to fuck around with his projects. He may be my roommate but long before that I knew he was one of those people who if he's going to do something like a band he's going to do it really well or not bother.

Angora Holly Polo:

The Overcasters

Despite the knife-throwing in the front yard, the vibe at one of Denver’s most infamous artist living areas was comfortable the night of September 1st. Families talked, people ate cookies. It was a typical day at the Tarshack, though it had changed in the past year.

The Tarshack is a stark warehouse that several musicians call home. With the convenience of living without neighbors in an industrial area, the Tarshack sometimes opens its doors to a live music experience that’s unique and intimate; each local show is capped off with the Tarmints, a band that plays dirty, black-stained rock kicked around by the tortured growl of Kurt Ottaway. They only ask a suggested donation, bring your own booze, be polite, and leave the bulldozer out front alone.



Just over a year ago, moments before running through the crowd like a banshee and scream-growling from atop the donations table in the back, Ottaway introduced a song with a ranting speech: it was about making music because he doesn't have a wife, and he doesn't have a TV, and he doesn't drink, and he doesn't have a designer jeep to drive over to his girlfriend's house that he doesn't have. Not much of that has changed since then, but for one thing:

In a series of moments clearly designed by the rock gods, Ottaway found his soul mate in one who could be considered his only equal in rock-your-face-off energy (locally, at least): Erin Tidwell, the fire-haired drummer behind political Indie poppers Cowboy Curse, and a slew of other projects.

They secretly formed their relationship behind closed doors, and then formed a local supergroup in a similar fashion: behind the tightly-closed doors of the Tarshack, they created the Overcasters with Jeremy Ziehe from Bad Luck City (formerly in Red Cloud West) and John Nichols, who played with Munly. It was rumored that Ottaway wouldn’t reveal their new band until everything was absolutely perfect. All the while speculation churned outside their walls so that it was almost tangible: would the Overcasters sound like the Tarmints? It was assumed that the combination of such musical talents would combine into some great otherworldly musical combustion.

Then Ottaway suffered debilitating injuries from a motorcycle injury. His recovery dictated they push the unveiling off further. Even days before the first Overcasters show, Ottaway almost chopped off his fingertip in a motorcycle sprocket. After such a wait, presumably, nothing could stop him from playing.

The public return to the Tarshack September 1st was shocking in its familial comfort: the once-barren warehouse was now warm with paper lanterns, lit-up stars, painted red by Tidwell. It felt like a home, with Ottaway and Tidwell’s families hanging out. Monofog’s Doug Spencer exhibited art work – there was even a gallery room set aside – and Tyler Jacobson from Lipgloss DJed. People lined up to try out Spencer’s knife-throwing interactive art project (this still is the Tar-shack). People sat on the floor to watch Pee Pee’s slap-dash, whimsical porch jams. Then Mothership sent vibrations and chills through the entire warehouse with their vibrant, guitar-driven space rock.

And then friends, family, and fellow musicians gathered inside for the Overcasters to begin. Erin Tidwell’s father glanced at the door anxiously, watching the room fill up.

The first song churned along without vocals, a cool melodic body of water that would put out the fire behind Tarmints’ fury. The visual spectacle was equally calming: projected bubbles of light languidly floated over the red-headed Tidwell, adorned in a black and white ‘60s top. Ottaway’s biker growl smoothed out into a haunting, Win Butler-esque yell, a more accessible version of that vocal summoning of inner demons. They fell into characteristic Tarmints fits, black blues, grinding rock; but always settled back into cool, calm waters, calling more from the psychedelia of the ‘60s, and the echoing guitar sounds of post punk. The crowd was mostly silent throughout the show, either calmed or awed. Ottaway sarcastically thanked the crowd for being so polite. When the show was almost over, Ottaway went around and introduced the band. He introduced Ziehe and Nichols. When he got to Tidwell, there was no need for lengthy introduction; he simply instructed the crowd to listen to the next love song.

About that show...

It seemed like more than a few people stuck around. We played a great set, in my opinion. We need to work out a production bug, and work on those bogus switches. I had a good time. I've heard some ridiculous commentary since the show.

Locked and Loaded

On the eve of our debutante ball, things are going quite well. It appears that at least some people are as excited as we are to do this thing:

1401 Zuni, denber, 9-1-07, 21:00 sharp

I found a nice little write-up for the show over here (worth clicking). I know fucking nothing of the alleged myspace nonsense:

Father Guido suggests you go to the Tar-shack Saturday night for Overcasters, Mothership, and Pee Pee. This super group has been practicing and rehearsing and probably learning karate and making evil robots and unlocking the key to enlightenment, I don't fucking know, but they've been behind closed doors for what feels like forever.

They've been making hilarious claims on myspace, posting bulletins that say "Knife-throwing exhibition" and "THE CALL OF CTHULHU." Good God! It sounds exciting.

Tyler Jacobson is DJing! Artwork by Monofog's Doug Spencer! Gah!

The tension is killing me! What will you sound like, Overcasters?!

Another one:

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1: TYLER JACOBSON DJs THE OVERCASTERS, MOTHERSHIP & PEE PEE SHOW

Tyler DJs Overcasters, Mothership & Pee Pee show

The night that the Overcasters are unleashed on the world, Tyler will be providing the soundtrack to the in between times. 3 bands, 1 DJ and 1 art show. Be there to say you were there.

The build-up is getting to me a bit.
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Now playing: The Cure - Secrets